Montreal

“So we’re going to continue like that didn’t just happen?” John asked in disbelief at the nonchalant attitude that they displayed.

“C’mon, Johnny, you’ve lived in the Abyss for almost two months now. You know what it’s like here. That kinda stuff happens. She’s fine, so what’s the big deal?” Jenny asked, walking up to her boyfriend and putting an arm around him. “Are you sure you’re okay to travel?”

“I’m good, I’m good. I guess I just… lost touch after nearly a week of normality. It felt nice to not have to worry about that kind of thing.” John felt his emotional defenses rise again as if physical walls were erected around him. He returned Jenny’s grasp, breaking through them to be close to his girlfriend and their friends. A clash of identity sprouted between wanting to feel the way they did and his mundane sensibilities. What’s the definition of ‘normal’ in the Abyss? “How do you guys manage it?”

“A lifetime in the Abyss,” Jenny and Grace immediately replied. That random attacks were a fact of life had begun to escape him, living as he had in protected buildings.

Then again, I guess we did attack him. If Abigail hadn’t tried to slow him down, he probably would have ignored her. That one’s on us. John shrugged, coming to terms with the reinstatement of this attitude. “You’re right. No reason for it to bring everything down. None of us are hurt, and that’s what matters. We shouldn’t be the ones worrying about stopping him.”

“I get how you feel, John.” They all turned to look at Amy, who attempted to hide behind her hands at all of the sudden attention. “I just mean- well- I’m kind of new to this too. I learned about the Abyss my entire life, but learning about it and living it are two different things. It can be scary, but people like us are trying to make it better, right?”

“Right! We’re not just killers for hire, we can take contracts that make people’s lives better. Helping out those in need,” Grace chimed in, though the contracts the four of them had been assigned hardly fit the bill. “And other people make ours better.”

“You’re right. I bet The Magician and the other Major Arcana members are looking for Strength as we speak. They have it under control.” John was at ease again, though a small voice in the back of his brain told him his words couldn’t be completely true.

The group sauntered through the street, each feeling good despite the overwhelming encounter they had just experienced. Today was a day they could shrug off their jobs and act their age. John invited his friends to his party, mostly for ease of communication should they get separated.

They made it to the travel building without incident, save for Grace dragging Abigail into a nearby convenience store for snacks. “You always have to get some snacks before you travel!” Grace insisted, waving the box of knock-off Girl Scout Cookies around.

“But there’s no travel time, we get there instantly.” His response was ignored as the five of them entered the second base’s barrier.

Abigail, who couldn’t speak due to having her mouth overstuffed with minty, chocolatey goodness, audibly swallowed before replying, “Besides, it’s not like we’re in a rush, are we?”

“Well, no... but our whole purpose for going to Canada in the first place is to go and eat,” John responded, leading the group through the somewhat labyrinthian building and to the security area just before the travelling mirrors.

“John, John, John,” Grace said with mock disappointment, throwing her arm over her taller friend’s shoulder, “if you don’t think Abigail and I will still eat L’Anecdote out of business, then clearly you don’t know us at all.”

He Jumped next to her, using Move to steal a sleeve of cookies from the open box. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Hey! That’s mine!” She attempted to snatch it out of the air as it floated toward him, but to no avail. He enjoyed his minty reward, and she grumbled to herself as she stuffed the last sleeve of cookies into her inside jacket pocket.

“We should probably find a currency exchange. I don’t know if they’re going to take our money in Montreal.” Deciding that was a sound idea, the party made their way to a stand conveniently placed before the security area, each exchanging about a thousand dollars to Canadian dollars, resulting in them each getting about C$1,350. When John put it back into his inventory, he noticed that a separate counter appeared below the normal one, denoting the amount of Canadian money in his inventory. A pop-up appeared as a result.

You may now exchange currency directly from the inventory, though .5% (rounded to the nearest dollar) of all money exchanged this way is lost. You may only use currency types you have had in your possession.

Would that be counterfeiting? Where does it all come from? What about the money I get from quests? John wondered, satisfied with the amount of money he had exchanged already. Better not to go down that rabbit hole. The rate is slightly better than what the Rider-Waites offered though… I’ll use it in the future.

The security presented few problems, each of them paying for a round-trip. They received a small ticket which was valid for one trip from any Canadian base to any American base in the next week. John was allowed to proceed with his guns in his inventory because he was a member, and none of the others had any weapons to speak of. The biggest delay was analyzing the space in Jenny’s case, but no weapons were found and she was allowed to proceed.

The cool Canadian air felt good against their backs, not nearly as cold as John had been expecting. It was about this cold the other night in Springfield, I guess there’s not as much of a difference as I thought.

“You’ve never been to any of the really significant Abyssal cities, have you, John?” Amy asked, looking to the impromptu leader of their group.

“No, why do you ask?” John replied as they exited the Rider-Waite building. He expected to come to the edge of a barrier, but instead he saw a massive sprawling of streets with shops, restaurants, and bars.

“This is the most popular Abyssal city in Canada!” Grace exclaimed, making a wide sweeping gesture with her arms. “It’s got two entrances to the Inferno, a ton of shops that are huge on the Auction, and like half the city is covered in this giant barrier we’re in. There’s a Fateweaver base here too, or at least there’s rumored to be one.”

John looked out to the street before them, and realized that those weren’t mundane people walking on the sidewalk. Everyone had at least a small aura, and some weren’t humans at all. A group of five alabaster skinned elves walked past, and the one in the back gave Grace a flirty wink before turning back to her group.

“The diner we want is in the real city though. We have to get out of here.” They followed the Brit to an alleyway, exiting the barrier and entering the mundane world.

“We came all the way to Canada for a diner?” John asked, incredulous. “You know we have those in America, right?”

“Yeah, but your diners don’t serve poutine! It’s good nosh,” Grace explained, taking out her phone and checking the map. “It should just be a couple blocks this way.” It’s a mundane place, but Abyssals love it.

Wonder what crazy stories the owner could tell, John thought as he and the girls followed Grace to the diner in question. It was surprisingly small, with only one table in the whole place that could serve the five of them. They seated themselves, and soon a waitress came by to place down waters and to take their orders.

“Une grande assiette de poutine pour la table s'il vous plaît?” Grace asked, flashing the waitress a charming smile. Despite her poor accent, the waitress understood the order and smiled at the Brit before walking off.

“What was that?” Abigail asked, looking to her multilingual friend in confusion. “I didn’t get to say what I wanted!”

“I ordered a large plate of poutine for the table, you guys will love it, it’s great! Trust me.” The rest of the group sipped their water suspiciously as they stared at their brazen friend. “It is the whole reason we’re here.”

They changed their mood when the steaming hot plate was brought out before them. The salivating smell of the meaty gravy that coated the fries was enough to make them all hurriedly dig in, manners forgotten.

After the poutine, other standard diner fare was ordered, burgers, sandwiches, chips. They all left the restaurant perfectly satiated.

“Well? What did you lot think?” Grace had a smug grin on her face as she turned back to look at her friends.

“Totally worth coming here,” Abigail said, hand on her stomach. John, Jenny, and Amy voiced their agreement. Grace, meanwhile, had noticed that the pub across the street had opened while they were in the diner.

“Well, we ate, why not have a few drinks?” Grace asked, leading the group across the street. They crowded into the mostly empty bar, John and Jenny ordering a row of shots for themselves. Amy and Abigail, who had little experience drinking, took to a table in the corner to talk amongst themselves. Grace walked up to one of the only patrons, a scrawny man in his early twenties.

He had apparently ordered a mixed drink, and she placed a hand on his shoulder as she took it from his grasp and downed it. Not expecting this interruption, he shouted, “Mais pourquoi diable me fait ça?”

She gripped his somewhat lacking bicep and answered, “On s’en coliss.” This made the man stomp on her foot and storm out.

“What did you say to him?” Amy asked, looking at her friend left standing at the bar with an empty plastic cup.

“Honestly? No idea,” Grace answered, setting the cup on the bar along with a couple of dollars.

“I’m going to beat you this time, Jenny,” John boasted as the bartender filled six small glasses with rum.

“Dream on, Johnny. I’ve got years of experience on ya,” Jenny replied as the man did the same for her. “Say, buddy, could ya give us a countdown?”

“Americans,” the man grumbled to himself, but honored her request. When he hit one, John and Jenny both took off, downing the shots as fast as possible. Whether due to experience, superior Agility, or both, Jenny finished her last one just as John started his.

“Ah, better luck next time, Johnny.” She patted her boyfriend on the ass as he downed his last shot, frowning. “Unless you want to go again?”

“Abigail, Amy, come join us.” Grace waved her friends over to the couple, though the **** virgins had no idea what they were in for. “Alright good man, six shots for each of us.”

Though the bartender found their drinking habits personally irresponsible, he wasn’t about to turn down such business. He poured them each their shots, opening two more bottles to do so and scrutinizing John and Jenny who had seemed thus far unphased by theirs.

Grace took the first in her hand, and the others did the same. “Alright! Ready… set…