Oh, Angua was just in a wonderful state of affairs this morning. Not only was she still having issues coping with the weekend, but it was just about her favourite time of the lunar cycle and she was pretty sure she was getting addicted to coffee.

Why else would she be in here right now if she wasn't?

Especially since a vampire in the joint hardly made it a preferable escape from the station. She tried not to seem annoyed with the fact that you could barely turn around on this island without finding a noseful of bloodsucker, but, really, it would be impossible for her right now. Thus the grunt and the general look of distaste in that direction as she waited behind someone who was taking far too long to order a drink. It was coffee. Coffee! You shouldn't need fifty words to describe how you wanted it!

She should have just stayed home and tore up some phone books or something.

And it was when the person in front of her claimed that, no, she didn't say skim, she say skinny soy, that Angua realized that there actually were things worse in this world than vampires. They were coffee snobs.

She grudgingly gave what's-his-face vampire a morosely appreciative sort-of smile for at least his empathy.

Angua scoffed a little, shaking her head. That, her expression firmly said, especially as the customer started to go into percentages of foam-to-milk, was a hell of a lot nicer than what she would like to do. But what she would like to do right now was no way for anyone to gesture, especially not someone standing there with a badge on her collar.

Again, Angua shook her head, lifting a hand and waving it casually in the air to suggest that strangling was also too wishy-washy. And then a whole ordeal started up regarding the difference between a small and a short, this time actually propegated by the barista, and that hand, as well as the other, and every hair on Angua's body curled tightly in frustration.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," she finally conceeded, abandoning the line and pulling out a chair from the vampire's table to just sit down because when your body wanted to start becoming quadripedal, it took a lot out of you physically. She slumped and looked sourly at the counter.

"And not even that!" said Angua, almost too irritated to notice that she was sharing space with a vampire. Almost. Then again, you could barely take two steps here without that seeming to be the case, although Angua was a bit prone to exaggeration right now. "I'd take ground pebbles and mud at this point. That's most of what I'm used to, anyway."

Angua was a bit sensitive to everything right now, and her lip curled to tell Mitchell that. Her eyes were still burning into the counter.

"I'm good," she muttered. Even if she wasn't so touchy, she'd shared enough fluids with vampires lately to last her five more lifetimes. "I'd just leave and go to the cafe or something instead, but now I want to make a point."

Point was pronounced like it could be substituted with a great many other words, most of them colourful and all of them bloody.

Urg. Vampires. Angua didn't know how they did it, but they always seemed to know just what to say to sound enticing. Because right now, violence was almost too appealing to pass up. Thankfully, though, Angua was the one who wanted to do the violence, so she wasn't about to let someone else have all the fun.

"Won't be necessary," she said. "Last thing I'd need, for this to turn into an ordeal and actually ahve to work. It's not a good day for work..."

Certain criminals in Ankh-Morpork knew about those days; they arranged their whole crime schedule around the phases of the moon now.

nd there was a stony look to make trolls jealous.

"Trust me," muttered Angua, "you'd be lucky if you got out with just a kick."

She had remembered running into him as a wolf, and how he seemed the only vampire in this place who really had any clue at all about werewolves, so she was going to just assume that's what he meant. And that he could at least tell. As much as she hated it, it actually made her like him somewhat more than the others: the others' obliviousness was infuriating.

She closed her eyes for a moment, rubbing her forehead, and just wishing she could curl up somewhere for a week and call that good.

She then cracked one open to glance at Mitchell. "Your...friend deals with this a lot, too, I take it?"

Angua was just going to pause for a moment, staring at Mitchell and making sure she'd heard what he just said.

But then realized that she should expect as much from a werewolf who was friends with a vampire.

She gave a soft grunt, because mention of mint just made her want to go find some lazy shepherd who didn't pay enough attention to his flock...

"I guess we all handle it differently..."

"I think the coffee's mostly a cop thing, actually," Angua admitted. "A Fandom cop thing."

You'd have to be mad or a dwarf to think of touching it at Pseudopolis Yard.

Her fingers were tapping a cadence on the table, tails drumming out impatience. Once she realized she was doing it, though, she stopped, curling up her fingers as if she wished she could retract them like claws. She always kept her fingernails relatively well-kept, but, as usual, they were starting to feel like they were just so long and sharp. She cleared her throat.

"I go in for chickens, mostly. But," she shot him a firm look, "I always leave money."

"Deer around here?" asked Angua, her attention going toward Mitchell with something akin to actual interest.

She'd been wondering if there were adverse affects to their teal colour.

There was that flat look again, the one that said the next thing Mitchell would be telling her was that they lived next door to a troll and a dwarf that were about to be married, as well.

"That must be lovely," said Angua, in a way where lovely meant insane.

Angua looked appalled. "Compensating?" she guessed, because that's the only way she could think of a werewolf taking on a habit like that.

And she did understand, at least. Really, she did. This was, after all, the time of the month when she felt so hairy and unkempt that she forced herself to take... to take...