The Hmm Cafe



'''Welcome to the Hmm Cafe! Have a cup of tea or maybe a homebaked muffin. Take a seat and breathe in the sweet smell of baked goods. Everything here is homemade and made with all natural ingredients and even real brewed tea.'''

Menu
/Menu/

Employees
 Owner/Manager: Jordan Park

 Cooks: Holly Bateson

 Waiters/Waitresses: Emerald Daniels

Archives

 * Archive One
 * Archive Two <--
 * Archive Three
 * Archive Four
 * Archive Five
 * Archive Six
 * Archive Seven
 * Archive Eight
 * Archive Nine
 * Archive Ten

London and Davu
the boutique was closed today, since london had some business to conduct away from the store, and none of there were no employees around to fill in gaps between schedules, so he just decided to give everyone a break and go out to hogsmeade for inspiriation. his jacket, an original he had made, was patterned in kente exclusively imported from ghana, and threaded with gold to match his black jeans and cotton shirt. he had his usual smile, but was avoiding the eyes of people around him.

london wasn't a coffee person. never was. never will be. he didn't need coffee anyway, he functioned on his own natural hyperness. he was tapping his foot as the line pushed forward, and involuntarily studying the shirt of the person in front of him, wondering if this was the inspiration he'd come for.

he simply smiled at davu when he looked back because he smiled at everyone. his eyes followed davu's shirt as davu stepped away, studying the pattern of it. he shook himself from the distraction and ordered butterbeer and large chocolate chip cookies before stepping away and pulling out his notebook to quickly sketch the pattern of the shirt while he still could.

he quickly put his pen and notebook back in the bag and went up to get his order, hoping the person with the shirt wouldn't leave soon so he could study it.

london froze, feeling the coffee soak into his clothes. not only was it hot, it had ruined his jacket and his shirt. his eye twitched, but he took some deep breathes and closed his eyes to stop himself from yelling at the stranger. "it's fine," he said through gritted teeth. "it's fine."

"this is an original that took hundreds of galleons to make," he said calmly. "trust me, your wallet won't survive the cost to replace this. just, just, calm down." he placed his hand on davu's wand before he cast the spell. "i'll do it myself, just calm down, please. there's no reason to make a fuss over it."

"i—" he stopped, staring at davu awkwardly, not knowing what to do. "you've been forgived?" he said, although more like a question. "there is something you can do, just calm down and we'll work it out. okay?"

"you can take this money and buy yourself a new cup of coffee," he said, pulling money out of his bag. "and then we can talk about the circumstances." ew, he could feel the coffee soak into his clothes. he needed to fix this as quickly as possible.

"aigoo," he remarked in korean, under his breath. "he's making a scene." he breathed out through his nose and placed the money in davu's hands. "please. take it. i promise you, everything will be fine if you just take the money, sir."

he nearly responded but just pressed his lips together and firmly exhaled. he turned around and went to find a seat, muttering aigoo, to himself as he went.

"yes, and also, is it in your nature to be so incredibly stubborn?" he remarked rather dryly, taking a sip of his butterbeer.

"what else was i going to do with it?" he asked. "i can't just take this to the dry cleaners and this will take hours to remove the liquid so i just figured i'd give the money to someone else. speaking of that, you were very adamant about taking the money. my mother would've been offended if you hadn't taken it. korea has this giant thing with sharing and community over the individual. you're lucky this is britain or we would still be arguing."

"the cloth is magic resistant. trust me, the spell wouldn't do much," he reassured. "i'll just have to take it home and fix it myself." he waved his hand dismissively and took another sip of his butterbeer.

"i didn't get them, i made them," he explained. "it's a personalized choice i'd rather not explain."

"apparently you've never heard of the industry of fashion design," he remarked. he offered davu a cookie and took one to eat. "people still do that, yes."

"depends on the type of fashion design. some fashion design is made for mass production, so yes, you're right about that part, but some fashion design is specifically for shows to fit a theme, or made for celebrities to wear to events. these are one of a kind originals. handmade. and require extreme precision to make and maintain," he explained.

"i have this thing with individuality. i can't wear anything mass-produced, so i just make my own clothes. also proves for more flexibility." he took a bite of his cookie and smiled. "i gave everyone a free day today."

"you realize you can just call it a company, right?" he laughed, his smile growing bigger. "that's what it is. a company. a fashion brand essentially. am i confusing you in anyway?"

"what do you mean?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "degrading? commoner? you talk almost as if you're... oh."

"i mean, you literally referred to normal things as commoner, so it wasn't very hard to tell," he said, giggling a little. "what's a prince doing in hogsmeade?"

"old towne vibe," he agreed, offering davu another cookie. "good for inspiration when i'm running low on it. plus, their butterbeer is out of this world."

"from france actually. and before that, south korea. it's weird adjusting. i have to learn another language, get used to customs and culture. it's a roller coaster, really."

"you must be new here then?" he asked. "did you move to britain recently? i've been here for a couple of years now. you get used to it. europeans are dramatic people. western civilization is dramatic in general."

"my mother still live in france, so i take occasional day trips. you must live far from here then."

london raised his eyebrows, taking a sip of butterbeer as he took the information in. "i was born in france but moved to south korea when i was really little. either way, i wasn't a giant people person when i was little so no, i don't. not really."

"same. people have this preconception i'm extroverted because apparently i smile a lot, but people are so tiring sometimes," he said. "probably a bad idea to go into business then but oh well, what can you do?"

"you own a flower shop?" he asked. "where? my main boutique is in lincliff city."

"possibly," he murmured, sipping his butterbeer. "but i'm not a huge flower person. maybe just on the street."

"neither. i just don't really like flowers," he said with a shrug. "not a gigantic nature person. there's so many gnats and mosquitoes. i prefer the indoors and air conditioning."

"i spent the majority of time indoors or on the street. to me, outside means nature. so yes, i didn't spend much time near any of it."

london broke out in another smile, laughing a little and leaning over, careful not to knock his butterbeer over. "sure, what are you having trouble with exactly?"

"ah, i rarely work with apple technology unless it's for designing but i guess i could lend some advice?" he said, slightly uncertaining. "what are your security settings?"

"that's the issue right there," he said. "would you mind signing into your phone for me? if you can?"

he hummed in acknowledgement and located settings. he tilted the phone so davu could see what he was doing and explained as he went. "so you go to security and click lock screen. and you're going to need to use thumb print again to get in so you change options."

"yeah," he said. he bit his lip, glancing over to davu with careful consideration. "could i help you with something else?"

"could i help you put my number in your phone so we can plan a date, flower boy?" he said, flashing him a white-toothed grin.

his grin grew as he pulled out his phone. "of course," he hummed.