diff --git a/writing/post-self/neviim/local/codrin/012.md b/writing/post-self/neviim/local/codrin/012.md
index 7d79a97f..167191f4 100644
--- a/writing/post-self/neviim/local/codrin/012.md
+++ b/writing/post-self/neviim/local/codrin/012.md
@@ -38,7 +38,7 @@ Dear hoisted its own mug as thought it was an ale-filled tankard. *"Precisely, m
 
 Codrin smiled, sipping eir coffee as ey watched. *Proper amount of excitement, indeed.*
 
-After Sarah left, the triad sat around the table, saying nothing, simply processing this new future that lay before them. It felt almost too large for Codrin to comprehend. Something new. Something enormous. Something that felt somehow larger than the launches. Those, at least, had the advantage of being something that ey could predict, a frame of reference. Society continued much as it had before, after all, hadn't it? They had decamped from Lagrange for the LVs and everything looked exactly the same, minus only the few friends who had not done so.
+After Sarah left, the triad sat around the table, saying nothing, simply processing this new future that lay before them. It felt almost too large for Codrin to comprehend. Something new. Something enormous. Something that felt somehow larger than the launches. Those, at least, had the advantage of being something that ey could predict, a frame of reference. Society continued much as it had before, after all, hadn't it? They had decamped from [Lagrange](Lagrange) for the LVs and everything looked exactly the same, minus only the few friends who had not done so.
 
 This, though, held so many unknowns.
 
diff --git a/writing/post-self/neviim/local/tycho/016.md b/writing/post-self/neviim/local/tycho/016.md
index c8442450..c61cfcde 100644
--- a/writing/post-self/neviim/local/tycho/016.md
+++ b/writing/post-self/neviim/local/tycho/016.md
@@ -1,6 +1,6 @@
 # Tycho Brahe --- 2346
 
-> *Convergence T-plus 19 days, 5 hours, 57 minutes*
+> *Convergence T-plus 49 days, 5 hours, 57 minutes*
 
 "I don't own a suit, and while I could have picked one up, it seemed like too much work for the occasion," Tycho said once the clock struck eight and he'd stood from his seat at the head of the table. "So the usual jeans and flannel it is."