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Emily and Concordia in the World of Darkness
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"We do need to eat and sleep, yes," she says. And then adds "for now," because that sounds appropriately mysterious.

She briefly converses with Concordia.

"And no, we don't have a place to stay. We were going to handle that today," she continues. "Since we arrived so late yesterday. But it sounds like you might have a place in mind?"

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"Not a specific place, but I can help you out." She takes a wallet from her pants pocket and hands Emily a wad of cash: Four green $20 bills, three purple $10 bills, four blue $5 bills. Being Canadian, rather than American, they're made of flexible polymer rather than cotton. "Should be enough for a few days' expenses, or one night in a motel. A computer in a library should tell you where to find one." She takes out her phone to send a text message.

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"Thank you," she says, accepting the bills. "That's generous of you."

She splits the bills with Concordia, briefly explaining their relative values.

"We should probably use it on cleaning up, if we need to impress a prince," she suggests to her. "But we can figure that out later."

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Concordia doesn't look away from their interlocutors, because she has not decided that this is a romance story, and therefore unlikely to erupt in (unforeshadowed, unproductive) violence.

"Yeah, later."

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Florence's phone buzzes. "The Prince is busy right now. You're to go to the main entrance of Casa Loma at sundown tomorrow. You'll present yourselves then." She puts her phone away. "The Tremere primogen has already agreed to support you, so you're not in much danger of being rejected unless you do something stupid, like lie to the Prince or insult someone."

"Good luck." Florence turns away.

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Florence is leaving, but the man in the tattered suit comes up to Emily. "She said not to lie, and she's right. But people here don't know much about magic. Say the name of your teacher or whatever as though it's impressive, and they'll assume it is." His posture shifts, becomes more threatening. "And whatever else you do, do not forget the Masquerade. This is the era of smart-phone cameras, the secret can spread fast. You reveal us to anyone, accidentally or on purpose, and we will stop being friendly so quickly your head will spin, then come off. Understand?"

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"U-Understood!" she agrees.

Concordia grips her hand more tightly.

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"Good!" Instantly, he's back to the friendly posture, a warmer tone of voice. "Sun's rising soon, so we have to get going. See you this evening. Good luck."

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The group gets back into the van. The woman with the costume jewellery stares at the girls for a few long moments, but then she, too, gets in.

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Emily releases a deep breath, relaxing once they've gone.

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"What was that?" Concordia asks. "I am certain that I did not catch everything."

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Emily nods. "Yeah."

With the adrenaline fading, she is now intimately feeling the fact that she jumped timezones and didn't get a full nights sleep. Plus, she hasn't eaten since lunch yesterday.

"Let's ... let's find some food, and then we can go over everything and make plans," she suggests.

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Concordia takes a deep breath. It's not Emily's fault that nobody here speaks a civilized language.

"Alright," she agrees. "Breakfast first."

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Emily rapidly discovers that there are no Dunkin' Donuts in Toronto. There are, however, various other fast food restaurants that will do just fine.

She quietly reads the menu to Concordia, and does her best to pick whatever looks like it gives the most protein per dollar.

A few minutes later, they're sitting at one of the tables, eating their cheap breakfasts and trying to figure out what comes next.

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Concordia makes a face.

"Why is this so sweet?" she asks.

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"There's ... a lot of sugar in this style of cooking," Emily says. "But it's food, and not too expensive."

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Concordia nods, accepting it for what it is.

Over the next hour or so, they hash through what just happened, and what they can plan to do about it. Eventually, they set out to find somewhere that they can clean up — at least washing off the sweat from their running and fighting, but ideally also get some fresh clothes.

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"... we might not have enough money," Emily notes, counting through their remaining bills. "But hotels also don't start checking people in for hours. If we can't find somewhere good, we can try doing some street magic for more money, maybe."

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"I'm not too sure many people will pay for a characteristic divination," Concordia notes. "Especially if we have to pretend that it's trickery, to avoid breaking the Masquerade."

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Emily bites her lip.

"... yeah. But, I don't really have a better idea. Look, let's just try to find somewhere to get cleaned up."

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Not too far from the diner, there is a recreation centre. Windows show an indoor pool, with a few people swimming laps in the early morning. The change-room should have some showers in it. There's a laundromat a few blocks away from it, and Emily remembers passing a clothing store they passed yesterday, when they were walking south from the scene of their teleportation.

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God bless Toronto.

Emily takes them to the clothes store first, so that they'll have a change of clothes to change into. Normally, she would want to wash second-hand clothing before wearing it, but that sounds like an unnecessary complication at this point.

She flips through the racks looking for something clean, fitting, cheap, and still vaguely acceptable to meet a prince in.

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Concordia holds up a sparkly purple leotard.

"What fabric is this?" she questions, looking at it dubiously. "That can't be Amethyst grains. Is it a mage-crafted material?"

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Emily would normally be pretty excited to explain modern textile manufacturing, but she just ... can't. There's too much she's responsible for, and Concordia's depending on her, and she doesn't—

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Concordia pulls her into a hug, leotard flung to drape over the rack.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be demanding."

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