all the time in the world

Agatha had thought she was doing rather well at this whole modern world business until now.

"Let me guess," The albino girl behind the counter says dryly, shooting an unimpressed look at the money Agatha is holding out to her. "Recently surfaced immortal?"

Agatha hesitates. Sophie has told her this shop is the hub for all non-humans in the area, but to be identified so quickly--

"Er. Yes. I suppose. Is this not a sufficient amount of money?"

"Shillings aren't legal tender anymore." says the girl flatly. Her name-tag says Anadil. "Also, you're paying way too much."

"Ah." Agatha draws back, embarrassed. This is the first time she's attempted to buy anything. "Um--"
"Oh, just hand it over, we have places we can exchange it."

"Oh." Agatha hands it over, bewildered. "I apologise for the inconvenience."

"Whatever. We'll bring your stuff, go and sit down."

"Of course, I thank you--"

Agatha backs away from the counter, suddenly feeling unsure of herself. Eighty years is not a long time, by her standards, but it seems she has missed rather a lot whilst she was asleep. Sophie warned her of it, but she hadn't really listened-- until now.

The currency has changed, everything seems to have plastic wrapping nowadays, everybody has funny rectangles that show pictures, and motion pictures are now in colour. There are probably a million other things she is yet to understand, as well.

Rather overwhelmed, she takes a seat in the corner, and tries to find something that she recognises. She has been doing this every time she encounters something new this past week. (She has been doing it a lot.)

She tugs at her collar nervously, casting an eye around the shop. One of the baristas has lots of tattoos. Agatha has tattoos too, though hers are from the 1920s and not nearly as colourful. There is an ogre sat in the back corner. She once met an ogre, in 1654. There is a pixie, just leaving. She has never had good experiences with pixies. And...

No, that is it. Everything else seems to be a sleeker, shinier version of things she knew. Even the drinks menu is longer. She has never heard of a frappuccino.

Agatha finds herself quickly transfixed by the screen above the counter. She has never seen such a high quality picture in her life, and she cannot see a projector, either. It appears to be a news programme. How funny. Do they not use radios anymore--?

She is jerked out of her trance by her coffee and cake being slammed down in front of her.

"Never seen you around here before." says her server, the tattooed barista she had noticed earlier. Now she has turned around, Agatha can see she had curled horns, like a goat.

"I have never been here before." says Agatha shortly. She doesn't get the impression this girl likes her, and she is sensing something--

She catches sight of her clawed hands and winces. A demon. She has never met a demon before, but they are supposed to get along with vampires, similar creatures that they are--

"And you said you're immortal?"

"I am eternal, yes."

"That's not what I asked, sweetheart."

Agatha eyes her coolly.

"Do you interrogate all your customers like this?"

"Only the ones who I think have interesting scars."