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Located on the South side of Diagon Alley in London, past a number of other shops you notice a quaint building. It is a café in this fairly busy part of section. What makes this different from the other shops? Their logo for one, resembling a wispy stag that moves every now and then in the window, illuminating from a quite distance in the evenings. One can't help but chance a glance as they pass by.
Approaching the café you get a large sense of security as a warm haze falls over you upon entry. There were tables outside the place, where diners could have their meals and chat among themselves as well as indoors. Heading on the inside you are greeted with the sight of many Patronuses floating throughout the walls behind the other stag logos of the café. The flooring a pleasant velvet red, further emphasizing the pleasant warmth one would experience whether for a quick stop or a romantic scenery.
Floating around you see the wispy forms moving around the walls featuring creatures such as phoenixes, zebras, otters, horses and many other magical creatures. Perhaps your own will join the walls if you stay long enough? The tables are compact and decorated with candles that automatically light up keeping the darkness at bay. Along with additional small booths near the back for more privacy. The Menu illuminates right behind the counter as you approach to order. As soon as you sit, you can't help but feel as if you're right at home.
Text Cut: menu
Breakium Emendo *items served all day
- Apple & Berry Bircher Muesli - 11 Sickles
- Cheese / Chocolate Twist - 12 Sickles
- Croissant - 13 Sickles
- Fruit Salad - 14 Sickles
- Porridge - 12 Sickles
- Yoghurt - 13 Sickles, 10 Knuts
Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
He told himself it was just nostalgia and one of those restless, in-between days where his feet carried him somewhere that was familiar. Back when everything had been uncertain, sure, but simpler in its own strange, scrappy way. Back when a room at the Leaky Cauldron and a decent cup of coffee had been enough to anchor him.
The Alley hadn't changed much. Or maybe it had, and he just couldn't see it through the haze of memory. Either way, it pulled at him the same. When the scent of coffee drifted out from Espresso Patronum, it wasn't really a decision.
Jordan stepped inside, shoulders loosening almost instantly as the familiar warmth wrapped around him. He ordered an espresso, keeping it simple this time, and turned from the counter, cup warm in his hand.
He didn't mean to stare. He really didn't. But something about the way the guy sat at the table caught Jordan off guard. There was an ease to him, the kind Jordan recognized but hadn't quite mastered himself yet.
And, yeah. Okay. The guy was quite handso—
Jordan hesitated only a moment before crossing the room, confidence settling back into place when he decided to stop overthinking.
"Hey," he said, stopping beside the table, a small, easy smile curving at the corner of his mouth. "I know this is a little out of nowhere, but—" he lifted his espresso slightly, like that explained anything at all— "any chance this seat's taken?" Were there other seats he could have taken? Plenty. Was he hoping the stranger before him wouldn't point that out? Perhaps.
He’d only just taken a bite from his veggie flatbread when Collin felt another person’s presence stop next to him. He glanced up through the corner of his eye to make sure they were intentionally standing near him and not just pausing on the way to somewhere else. Determining that the first option was the case, Collin flashed the man an easy smile and threw in a nod for good measure. He swallowed hurriedly and took a long gulp from his latte - which hadn’t quite cooled enough, whoops.
“Not at all,” he said, his voice coming out slightly hoarse from the warmth of the drink. He gestured vaguely to the table and empty seat in front of him. “It’s all yours.” He hardly considered that the man had other options, and truthfully, he didn’t mind the company. It was rare that he was out without Ghost in tow, and somehow it felt a bit… lonely.
He’d worry about the codependency with his owl later.
It took him an awkward second to realize that his food was taking up a good portion of the table. He rearranged things to give some more room if needed. Then, satisfied, he settled back against his chair and turned his full attention to the man. “I’m Collin. Do you come here often?” He wanted to cringe as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but managed to refrain. It was a genuine question. Really.
Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
"Wow," he said with a soft huff of laughter, sliding into the seat across from him, setting his espresso down with an almost deliberate sort of care. "Straight to the classics. Bold move."
There was a glint of humour in his eyes, warm and a little teasing, as he leaned back slightly, settling in like he fully intended to stay a while.
"I'm Jordan," he added, tipping his cup slightly in a half-toast before he brought it to his lips. He took a measured sip, letting the espresso sit for a second. It was sharp, grounding, exactly what he'd needed. It was also too hot, but that was something he didn't pay any attention to. "And, uh... not really. Used to, though."
His gaze flicked briefly around the café, taking in the familiar details before drifting back to Collin. Up close, the ease he'd noticed earlier was still there. Jordan found himself quietly appreciating it.
"What about you, Collin?" he continued, resting his forearms lightly against the edge of the table. "You've got a whole setup going on here," he added with a small nod toward the spread of food, one brow lifting just slightly. "So I'm guessing this is either a regular thing... or you just really commit when you decide to treat yourself."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth again, softer this time.
Bold move. Collin chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand. He briefly considered denying the intent. It was a perfectly reasonable question - maybe this was his usual seat and Collin had taken it or something. The man seemed fairly unbothered, though, so Collin figured there was no harm in playing along. “If it’s not broke, and all that, you know…”
He gave a half-smile. After a small sip to check the temperature, Collin took another drink from his latte as he watched Jordan. The used to answer warranted several follow-up questions. He’d answer some of his own first, though. It was only fair.
He glanced down at his breakfast then back up, smiling easily, laughing again. He ran a hand through his hair, always in some sort of movement.
“Could be both,” he suggested, considering the options. And considering that smile across from him. “This place has the best coffee, I think. And weekends deserve quality breakfasts.” He paused. Another sip. “I also work in Diagon Alley, so I find myself here more often than I’d like to admit.”
Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
"Yeah," he said, nodding once as he wrapped his fingers loosely around his espresso cup. "Hard to argue with that logic." His gaze flicked briefly to Collin's latte, then to the spread of food. "And I'm starting to think I severely underestimated what a 'quality breakfast' looks like."
When Collin fidgeted—hand to his neck, then his hair—Jordan's eyes lingered perhaps a few seconds too long before he distracted himself with taking another sip of his drink that was still too hot.
"Working in the Alley, though..." he echoed, leaning forward just slightly now, interest threading into his tone. "That's got to be a mixed blessing. Convenient, sure. But I feel like it'd ruin the novelty a bit." His eyes lifted back to Collin's, a glint of curiosity there. "Or maybe not, if you're still ending up here frequently enough."
After a moment, he added, "I used to be around here a lot more years ago. Leaky Cauldron, mostly. Back when... well." He shrugged his shoulders, casual, but not dismissive. "Different times."
There was a brief pause, not awkward but just a natural beat where Jordan seemed to weigh something. His thumb tapped lightly against the side of his cup.
"What do you do?" he asked, the question easy but genuine, head tilting just slightly. "In the Alley, I mean. I'm trying to decide if I should be impressed or concerned." The corner of his mouth lifted again, teasing slipping back in to soften the curiosity.
Collin laughed softly, giving his head a slight shake. Now didn’t seem like the best time for a lecture about how important breakfast was, both physically and spiritually. He appreciated Jordan’s humor, anyway, and couldn’t help but notice the way the man’s attention lingered. But that was also a consideration for another time. Perhaps.
“It does, for some things,” He agreed before taking a sip of his latte, mostly to force himself to pause while Jordan continued speaking. “This place keeps things interesting, though. I keep wondering if I’ll see my patronus show up one of these days.” He nodded to the wall nearest the two of them and the shifting, wispy forms of various patronus charms.
A brightness returned to his eyes with the continued teasing tone. “Impressed,” he suggested. His tone could be taken for serious, possibly, or similarly joking. The both joke was right there, once again. “I’m an alley proprietor. And I run the Owl Post.”
He shifted his weight away from the table, settling an ankle over the opposite knee. He held his latte loosely with both hands, food all but forgotten on the table. “So if times were different,” he let the words hang for a moment, giving Jordan an ample amount of time to back out of personal information territory if he so desired, “What brings you back to the alley today?”
Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
His gaze flicked briefly toward the wall Collin had indicated, catching on the soft, shifting glow of Patronuses drifting like living light. For a moment, he contemplated asking the man what shape his would take before he dragged his attention back, grounding himself again with another sip of his espresso.
Jordan's brows lifted slightly at the information that had been revealed—alley proprietor, Owl Post—and this time the interest that crossed his face wasn't just playful.
"Okay," he said, a quiet note of genuine approval slipping into his voice as he gave a small nod. "Yeah, that's... actually pretty impressive." His mouth curved, just enough to take the edge off anything that might've sounded too serious. "I was hoping you'd say something like that and not, I don't know, 'pooper scooper' or something equally alarming. Certainly reassuring knowing that, should I need Owl Post services, my parcel would be in good hands."
His gaze lifted again, meeting Collin's more steadily now.
He let out a small breath through his nose, shoulders easing as he leaned back slightly, eyes dropping briefly to the rim of his cup as his thumb traced along it.
"Honestly?" he said after a beat, tone still light but carrying something a touch more grounded beneath it. He shrugged, one shoulder lifting and falling in an easy, practiced motion. "Didn't plan it. Have the day off work, you see. It just happened to be one of those days where you wake up and your brain decides you're going somewhere before you've had a say in it."
Kimothée Chalamet • The UWU Agenda • Once Baby, Now Trouble • All Growed Up
Ask anyone who knew Nikita Vitvinina-Grahn about her potential location anywhere in the world, and Diagon Alley wouldn't be in the top ten list. Maybe not even the top twenty - but here she was today. Let the record show, however, that she didn't hate the Alley. It simply was not her first choice to run to, but since she'd started her university studies in muggle Oxford, it ought not to be a surprise that she would sometimes yearn for a magical atmosphere. She was a long way from Oxford, but Nikita always had plenty of reasons to find herself in London anyway.
Besides, since it wasn't the summer break yet - although it certainly would be a few days from now when the Hogwarts kids arrive - Nikita did not have to deal with the surge of foot traffic that consisted of teenagers and parents alike. She did not hate people, but oh how quickly an introvert could get overwhelmed amid a sea of bodies pushing past each other. The best time to be here, if any, was now.
Vaguely remembering that there was a café in the Alley - and not knowing which part it was, wanting to avoid talking to strangers if she could manage - Nikita was relieved to see she'd chosen the correct end to venture. The south side. She'll have to remember that now, can't miss the moving stag on the logo. She would not have minded walking the entirety of the Alley if it came to it for she could entertain herself by observing people and window shopping along the way. Happy chances.
How she wished the coffee wouldn't disappoint her. A lady would never admit, but she was quite the coffee snob. But if she got herself a safe order, perhaps a latte, then could it really go so wrong? (Yes, some cafés can in fact ruin a simple latte, but she shall keep her sentiments to herself.) She could sit outside too and read whilst indulging in some people-watching. Now that's a plan.
__________________
When all is going wrong and you're scared as hell..._________________________ _____________________...Maybe a hundred bad days made a hundred good stories
He told himself it was just nostalgia and one of those restless, in-between days where his feet carried him somewhere that was familiar. Back when everything had been uncertain, sure, but simpler in its own strange, scrappy way. Back when a room at the Leaky Cauldron and a decent cup of coffee had been enough to anchor him.
The Alley hadn't changed much. Or maybe it had, and he just couldn't see it through the haze of memory. Either way, it pulled at him the same. When the scent of coffee drifted out from Espresso Patronum, it wasn't really a decision.
Jordan stepped inside, shoulders loosening almost instantly as the familiar warmth wrapped around him. He ordered an espresso, keeping it simple this time, and turned from the counter, cup warm in his hand.
He didn't mean to stare. He really didn't. But something about the way the guy sat at the table caught Jordan off guard. There was an ease to him, the kind Jordan recognized but hadn't quite mastered himself yet.
And, yeah. Okay. The guy was quite handso—
Jordan hesitated only a moment before crossing the room, confidence settling back into place when he decided to stop overthinking.
"Hey," he said, stopping beside the table, a small, easy smile curving at the corner of his mouth. "I know this is a little out of nowhere, but—" he lifted his espresso slightly, like that explained anything at all— "any chance this seat's taken?" Were there other seats he could have taken? Plenty. Was he hoping the stranger before him wouldn't point that out? Perhaps.
A genuine smile tugged at Collin’s lips without his control at the notes of approval in Jordan’s tone. It was undeniably nice to be recognized for the position he held. Not - and he laughed brightly at the suggestion - a pooper scooper or something equally alarming. Not that he judged such occupations, and had held similar ones in the past, but he’d paid his dues and worked his way up and he was proud of where he was.
He met Jordan’s eyes, an easy smile still playing on his face. It faltered slightly as he watched the man move, cataloguing the small details of his nonverbals. It made Collin want to dig in further. Learn more. It also gave him a sense that doing so too much, too soon, would have the opposite effect from what he wanted.
Interesting. He always wanted others to feel comfortable with him, of course, but this one felt… different.
He lifted his own drink and took a long, measured sip, creating a slight distance that Jordan could fill if he so desired. “Love those days,” he commented thoughtfully. “As if your body is moving on its own accord toward what you need.” He paused. Keeping his head lowered slightly toward his cup, he lifted his gaze. “Was it the espresso pulling you in, do you think?”
He leaned back in his chair again, settling in a bit, and let another question break through. “What do you do for work?”
SSRPG Admin Gladrags Mod Quibbler Mod Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor
Sea Serpent
Join Date: Aug 2010
Location: The Paths
Posts: 41,304
Hogwarts RPG Name: Professor Cox
Ravenclaw
Graduated
Hogwarts RPG Name: CJ Miller
Gryffindor
Third Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Nyle Harden
Hufflepuff
Sixth Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Iris Harden
Ravenclaw
Sixth Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Calliope Barrington
Slytherin
Fifth Year
Ministry Department Head:
Charles Hollingberry
Minister's Office
Ministry Department Head:
Airey Flamsteed
Mysteries
Diagon Alley Proprietor:
Victor García Massey
Ollivanders
x12 x12
astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
Quote:
Originally Posted by Kimothy
Ask anyone who knew Nikita Vitvinina-Grahn about her potential location anywhere in the world, and Diagon Alley wouldn't be in the top ten list. Maybe not even the top twenty - but here she was today. Let the record show, however, that she didn't hate the Alley. It simply was not her first choice to run to, but since she'd started her university studies in muggle Oxford, it ought not to be a surprise that she would sometimes yearn for a magical atmosphere. She was a long way from Oxford, but Nikita always had plenty of reasons to find herself in London anyway.
Besides, since it wasn't the summer break yet - although it certainly would be a few days from now when the Hogwarts kids arrive - Nikita did not have to deal with the surge of foot traffic that consisted of teenagers and parents alike. She did not hate people, but oh how quickly an introvert could get overwhelmed amid a sea of bodies pushing past each other. The best time to be here, if any, was now.
Vaguely remembering that there was a café in the Alley - and not knowing which part it was, wanting to avoid talking to strangers if she could manage - Nikita was relieved to see she'd chosen the correct end to venture. The south side. She'll have to remember that now, can't miss the moving stag on the logo. She would not have minded walking the entirety of the Alley if it came to it for she could entertain herself by observing people and window shopping along the way. Happy chances.
How she wished the coffee wouldn't disappoint her. A lady would never admit, but she was quite the coffee snob. But if she got herself a safe order, perhaps a latte, then could it really go so wrong? (Yes, some cafés can in fact ruin a simple latte, but she shall keep her sentiments to herself.) She could sit outside too and read whilst indulging in some people-watching. Now that's a plan.
Diamond had secured her table like it was a press box. A cappuccino sat just off-center ― the one that had two pumps of caramel, one of vanilla, and was cinnamon dusted with oat milk because she had standards ― and beside it a croissant she'd barely touched (for aesthetics, mostly) and adjacent to that a fruit salad she did intend to eat eventually. Brain food, she’d told the exasperated barista, with a smile as she collected her things with her freshly manicured hands.
The rest of the table was a controlled disaster.
Parchment sheets layered over one another in a system only she understood consisting of interview questions, player stats, and half-written opening lines or segways for her segment. A quill tucked into one of her space buns and another in hand. Her sunglasses rested atop a folded copy of her other notes and a small collection of items from her bag — lip gloss, a compact mirror, a beaded charm, bottle of deep pumpkin nail varnish, and so on — served as paperweights against the light breeze of Diagon Alley.
WWN listener numbers didn't lie and for the past several months her segments had been sitting comfortably at the top. Something burgeoning into something bigger than just 'promising talent' or 'newcomer's luck'. She was becoming required listening.
Naturally. Duh. Had been since she was a baby babbling on air on her mum's segment.
"Let’s see…" she murmured to herself, tapping the end of her quill against her lip as she scanned a page. Just a couple more tweaks and she could start on her fruit, perhaps. Finish up within the next hour or two and still have plenty of time to pick up some flowers to bring back to Theia before dinner.
A breeze swept through just then and one of her looser sheets slipped free from under a lipstick tube, lifting into the air with traitorous enthusiasm. Diamond’s head snapped up as the page drifted across the space and landed near another table. She rose immediately, heels clicking with purpose as she gave chase.
The page in question wasn't just notes. It was a moving headshot, the image of a Quidditch Seeker mid-hover, wind whipping through his hair as he turned slightly, looping the same confident glance every few seconds and dashing, debonair smile.
"Oi! A foot or anything on that?!" she called out while shimming between the narrow space of two chairs filled by two people who apparently couldn't bother to scoot in and make her life easier.
__________________
We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back.........................................
But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass.....................................
The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like
Kimothée Chalamet • The UWU Agenda • Once Baby, Now Trouble • All Growed Up
Quote:
Originally Posted by sweetpinkpixie
Diamond had secured her table like it was a press box. A cappuccino sat just off-center ― the one that had two pumps of caramel, one of vanilla, and was cinnamon dusted with oat milk because she had standards ― and beside it a croissant she'd barely touched (for aesthetics, mostly) and adjacent to that a fruit salad she did intend to eat eventually. Brain food, she’d told the exasperated barista, with a smile as she collected her things with her freshly manicured hands.
The rest of the table was a controlled disaster.
Parchment sheets layered over one another in a system only she understood consisting of interview questions, player stats, and half-written opening lines or segways for her segment. A quill tucked into one of her space buns and another in hand. Her sunglasses rested atop a folded copy of her other notes and a small collection of items from her bag — lip gloss, a compact mirror, a beaded charm, bottle of deep pumpkin nail varnish, and so on — served as paperweights against the light breeze of Diagon Alley.
WWN listener numbers didn't lie and for the past several months her segments had been sitting comfortably at the top. Something burgeoning into something bigger than just 'promising talent' or 'newcomer's luck'. She was becoming required listening.
Naturally. Duh. Had been since she was a baby babbling on air on her mum's segment.
"Let’s see…" she murmured to herself, tapping the end of her quill against her lip as she scanned a page. Just a couple more tweaks and she could start on her fruit, perhaps. Finish up within the next hour or two and still have plenty of time to pick up some flowers to bring back to Theia before dinner.
A breeze swept through just then and one of her looser sheets slipped free from under a lipstick tube, lifting into the air with traitorous enthusiasm. Diamond’s head snapped up as the page drifted across the space and landed near another table. She rose immediately, heels clicking with purpose as she gave chase.
The page in question wasn't just notes. It was a moving headshot, the image of a Quidditch Seeker mid-hover, wind whipping through his hair as he turned slightly, looping the same confident glance every few seconds and dashing, debonair smile.
"Oi! A foot or anything on that?!" she called out while shimming between the narrow space of two chairs filled by two people who apparently couldn't bother to scoot in and make her life easier.
As Nikita was about to leave her spot right in front of the café and to settle with ordering a latte, some thinky part of her mind made her reconsider. What if she got a cappuccino instead? Less milk than a latte, so she could really taste (and judge) the quality. Or perhaps the plainest of all - an espresso. But even that was risky. Any off taste and Nikita would not be so forgiving.
She was more decisive than this. Surely. It's just coffee. Except if it disappointed her, then her only other alternative was the Leaky Cauldron, and even the former Ravenclaw knew that place did not suit her.
This was an even more glaring sign that she needed caffeine in her system.
Here came a photograph that settled just beside her heeled feet, effectively disrupting her train of thought. Nikita looked down to meet the two-dimensional eyes of a Quidditch player, who happened to be... flashing a smile at her? And was he winking at her, too, or did her brain make that up as well? Either way, it brought the slightest of pinks to her cheeks. (Embarrassing. It was a mere photograph, Nikita.) But she did bend down gently and carefully - skirt safety - to pick it up and, just as she tilted her head sidewards, she deduced that the photograph belonged to the girl over there.
She was familiar. Nikita, ever the introvert, spent her four terms in Hogwarts mostly tucked in corners. A wallflower, who took pleasure in observing the world around her, did not forget faces, especially of those who seemed to have been naturally born into the spotlight. (Could never be Nikita!) "Yours, I assume?" Nikita lifted the photograph to show and confirm.
...Was it obvious that she was trying hard not to look at said photograph again?
__________________
When all is going wrong and you're scared as hell..._________________________ _____________________...Maybe a hundred bad days made a hundred good stories
SSRPG Admin Gladrags Mod Quibbler Mod Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor
Sea Serpent
Join Date: Aug 2010
Location: The Paths
Posts: 41,304
Hogwarts RPG Name: Professor Cox
Ravenclaw
Graduated
Hogwarts RPG Name: CJ Miller
Gryffindor
Third Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Nyle Harden
Hufflepuff
Sixth Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Iris Harden
Ravenclaw
Sixth Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Calliope Barrington
Slytherin
Fifth Year
Ministry Department Head:
Charles Hollingberry
Minister's Office
Ministry Department Head:
Airey Flamsteed
Mysteries
Diagon Alley Proprietor:
Victor García Massey
Ollivanders
x12 x12
astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
Quote:
Originally Posted by Kimothy
As Nikita was about to leave her spot right in front of the café and to settle with ordering a latte, some thinky part of her mind made her reconsider. What if she got a cappuccino instead? Less milk than a latte, so she could really taste (and judge) the quality. Or perhaps the plainest of all - an espresso. But even that was risky. Any off taste and Nikita would not be so forgiving.
She was more decisive than this. Surely. It's just coffee. Except if it disappointed her, then her only other alternative was the Leaky Cauldron, and even the former Ravenclaw knew that place did not suit her.
This was an even more glaring sign that she needed caffeine in her system.
Here came a photograph that settled just beside her heeled feet, effectively disrupting her train of thought. Nikita looked down to meet the two-dimensional eyes of a Quidditch player, who happened to be... flashing a smile at her? And was he winking at her, too, or did her brain make that up as well? Either way, it brought the slightest of pinks to her cheeks. (Embarrassing. It was a mere photograph, Nikita.) But she did bend down gently and carefully - skirt safety - to pick it up and, just as she tilted her head sidewards, she deduced that the photograph belonged to the girl over there.
She was familiar. Nikita, ever the introvert, spent her four terms in Hogwarts mostly tucked in corners. A wallflower, who took pleasure in observing the world around her, did not forget faces, especially of those who seemed to have been naturally born into the spotlight. (Could never be Nikita!) "Yours, I assume?" Nikita lifted the photograph to show and confirm.
...Was it obvious that she was trying hard not to look at said photograph again?
She closed the remaining distance, her gaze flicking from the photograph to the girl holding it, then back again. There was something vaguely familiar about her and Diamond, who prided herself on never forgetting a face, found the lapse of recollection almost offensive. Still, if the girl could not be placed instantly, c'est la vie. Clearly, Diamond's mind was occupied with matters of far greater consequence.
"Yes," she said smoothly, extending her hand without hesitation. "Mine."
Her fingers closed around the moving photograph, but her attention had already shifted to the faint flush blooming across the girl's cheeks and she just barely managed to contain her eyeroll.
"Yeah," she added lightly, the edge uncontained now. "He tends to have that effect... right up until you realize he collects admirers faster than Snitches and with about as much discernment as an Erumpent in a glass shop."
Very erumpent energy in general, actually. The adjective, not merely the beast... though the name was suddenly painfully apt once her attention settled on it. All that surface-level charm erupting outward with reckless abandon, utterly indifferent to whatever it trampled in the process. Delightful, in its way, and excellent for content... but she supposed she could indulge in a touch of civic virtue. After all, sparing the world one fewer casualty hardly required her to break a sweat.
"Trust me. You're not missing out on anything except a headache and a very predictable headline."
Probably one that she wrote, for that matter.
"Thanks."
And with that, she pivoted cleanly on her heel, already moving back toward her table.
__________________
We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back.........................................
But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass.....................................
The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like
Reign felt slightly burnt out or maybe she was getting fully burnt out, never the less she really needed to get out of the house and stop working about work because what was the point of thinking about work on her day off. She made her way to Diagon Alley and to her favorite coffee shop. Reign couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement as she stepped into the bustling coffee shop, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee wrapping around her like a warm hug. Today was going to be different she could feel it! No more sticking to her usual routine, no more hiding away at home on her days off. She was ready to shake things up, starting with her coffee order.
Her eyes danced over the menu, scanning the endless possibilities. What would it be? Her heart raced a little as she imagined herself trying something bold and new. Maybe she'd ask the barista for their favorite recommendation after all, they were the experts, right? The thought of stepping out of her comfort zone filled her with an unexpected thrill. Reign stepped forward, a determined smile on her face, ready to embrace whatever caffeinated adventure awaited her. Today was the day she’d say yes to something new, and who knows where it might lead?
__________________
dandelion, born to live free, riding on a breeze,
on a summer night tucked back in the weeds, guess that's just me in a bed of red roses, i'm the one growing up on the wilder side
so if you're tired of thorns, i'm a little more, dandelion
Kimothée Chalamet • The UWU Agenda • Once Baby, Now Trouble • All Growed Up
Quote:
Originally Posted by sweetpinkpixie
She closed the remaining distance, her gaze flicking from the photograph to the girl holding it, then back again. There was something vaguely familiar about her and Diamond, who prided herself on never forgetting a face, found the lapse of recollection almost offensive. Still, if the girl could not be placed instantly, c'est la vie. Clearly, Diamond's mind was occupied with matters of far greater consequence.
"Yes," she said smoothly, extending her hand without hesitation. "Mine."
Her fingers closed around the moving photograph, but her attention had already shifted to the faint flush blooming across the girl's cheeks and she just barely managed to contain her eyeroll.
"Yeah," she added lightly, the edge uncontained now. "He tends to have that effect... right up until you realize he collects admirers faster than Snitches and with about as much discernment as an Erumpent in a glass shop."
Very erumpent energy in general, actually. The adjective, not merely the beast... though the name was suddenly painfully apt once her attention settled on it. All that surface-level charm erupting outward with reckless abandon, utterly indifferent to whatever it trampled in the process. Delightful, in its way, and excellent for content... but she supposed she could indulge in a touch of civic virtue. After all, sparing the world one fewer casualty hardly required her to break a sweat.
"Trust me. You're not missing out on anything except a headache and a very predictable headline."
Probably one that she wrote, for that matter.
"Thanks."
And with that, she pivoted cleanly on her heel, already moving back toward her table.
Nikita didn't think she was that much of a recognisable face. It was not a self-perception issue, but it was only logical that most people would not remember or even care to look at the corners. She'd have been more surprised if the other girl did in fact know her.
She instead offered a faint smile in response to the confirmation of ownership, and held it closer to the other girl. There you go, random flying man with the flashy smile.
Oh. Well. Wasn't she just easy to read? No doubt her cheeks had betrayed her again. Nikita wished they would stop doing that often for they've placed in her some awkwardly inescapable situations in the past. But what really caught Nikita's attention was being considered an admirer, and ever so slightly her brows furrowed. "I am not..." She began almost cautiously. "I do not even know him." Other than he was obviously a Quidditch player - which, though she is aware of the sport's popularity, was nothing she fancied - but it cannot be denied that he had quite the smile even for a photograph. Hence the blushing.
Why was she explaining herself?
Although, growing up with a Fear Of Missing Out was a real issue for Nikita, but at the moment she didn't feel that it was, at least where the Quidditch boy was concerned. "I am certain I don't have any more space for male-induced headaches, but thank you for the assurance." If the player was anything like how the other girl described him, factoring in any exaggerations, then consider Nikita spared.
"You're... welcome...." Nikita hadn't expected the conversation to last long, but that sure was fleeting. But that meant, if she could hurriedly place her order inside, then she could at least occupy the empty table beside the other girl's. It was a decent spot, and it was a better space than over there beside the pair. They were too loud for Nikita's liking.
Latte, it is. And please let that table be free for the next five minutes. An introvert never asks for much.
__________________
When all is going wrong and you're scared as hell..._________________________ _____________________...Maybe a hundred bad days made a hundred good stories
Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
Quote:
Originally Posted by squidnie
A genuine smile tugged at Collin’s lips without his control at the notes of approval in Jordan’s tone. It was undeniably nice to be recognized for the position he held. Not - and he laughed brightly at the suggestion - a pooper scooper or something equally alarming. Not that he judged such occupations, and had held similar ones in the past, but he’d paid his dues and worked his way up and he was proud of where he was.
He met Jordan’s eyes, an easy smile still playing on his face. It faltered slightly as he watched the man move, cataloguing the small details of his nonverbals. It made Collin want to dig in further. Learn more. It also gave him a sense that doing so too much, too soon, would have the opposite effect from what he wanted.
Interesting. He always wanted others to feel comfortable with him, of course, but this one felt… different.
He lifted his own drink and took a long, measured sip, creating a slight distance that Jordan could fill if he so desired. “Love those days,” he commented thoughtfully. “As if your body is moving on its own accord toward what you need.” He paused. Keeping his head lowered slightly toward his cup, he lifted his gaze. “Was it the espresso pulling you in, do you think?”
He leaned back in his chair again, settling in a bit, and let another question break through. “What do you do for work?”
Jordan's mouth curved faintly at that phrase—what you need. He didn't comment on it right away, though. Instead, he let the thought sit, turning it over quietly as he lifted his cup again, the warmth seeping into his hands in a way that felt grounding rather than incidental.
"Maybe," he said after a moment, glancing down into the dark surface of his espresso before flicking his gaze back up. "The coffee helps." A small pause, just long enough to suggest there was more to it. "But I think it's more the... familiarity of it." His tone stayed light, but there was a thread of honesty woven through it now, subtle but present.
His index finger tapped once against the side of his cup before he set it down, leaning forward just slightly again, elbows brushing the edge of the table.
"I work in the Ecological department at the Ministry," he said, the answer coming easily enough. "I'm a botanist. My specialty is monitoring magical plant life, making sure nothing decides to proliferate where it shouldn't, and tinkering with making hybrid plants. Not nearly as exciting as the post."
His gaze held Collin's a second longer this time. Then, after a brief pause, his eyes flicked once more to the forgotten food between them before returning to Collin.
"You should probably eat, by the way," he said, tone easy, almost absent-minded but not unkind. "I'd hate to be the reason your 'quality breakfast' goes cold." A small smile followed, softer again, like he didn't mind being the reason at all.
SSRPG Admin Gladrags Mod Quibbler Mod Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor
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x12 x12
and THIS is why I apologized to you xD
astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
Quote:
Originally Posted by Kimothy
Nikita didn't think she was that much of a recognisable face. It was not a self-perception issue, but it was only logical that most people would not remember or even care to look at the corners. She'd have been more surprised if the other girl did in fact know her.
She instead offered a faint smile in response to the confirmation of ownership, and held it closer to the other girl. There you go, random flying man with the flashy smile.
Oh. Well. Wasn't she just easy to read? No doubt her cheeks had betrayed her again. Nikita wished they would stop doing that often for they've placed in her some awkwardly inescapable situations in the past. But what really caught Nikita's attention was being considered an admirer, and ever so slightly her brows furrowed. "I am not..." She began almost cautiously. "I do not even know him." Other than he was obviously a Quidditch player - which, though she is aware of the sport's popularity, was nothing she fancied - but it cannot be denied that he had quite the smile even for a photograph. Hence the blushing.
Why was she explaining herself?
Although, growing up with a Fear Of Missing Out was a real issue for Nikita, but at the moment she didn't feel that it was, at least where the Quidditch boy was concerned. "I am certain I don't have any more space for male-induced headaches, but thank you for the assurance." If the player was anything like how the other girl described him, factoring in any exaggerations, then consider Nikita spared.
"You're... welcome...." Nikita hadn't expected the conversation to last long, but that sure was fleeting. But that meant, if she could hurriedly place her order inside, then she could at least occupy the empty table beside the other girl's. It was a decent spot, and it was a better space than over there beside the pair. They were too loud for Nikita's liking.
Latte, it is. And please let that table be free for the next five minutes. An introvert never asks for much.
How quaint, someone trying very hard to correct a narrative they hadn't asked to be part of but were practically broadcasting anyway. Diamond’s brows lifted ever so slightly, watching her with the faintest hint of amusement.
"Relax," she said breezily. "No one's filing a report. You're allowed to appreciate a face without drafting a marriage contract."
Her gaze lingered just a moment longer, sharper now — noticing the restraint, the way the girl carried herself, the instinct to retreat rather than perform. Reminded her a bit of someone.
"Space for male-induced headaches is a finite resource," Diamond added, almost as an aside, as she settled back in her seat. "Best not to waste it on someone so… " But she didn't finish the thought, he hand gesturing vague in the air as she picked up her cup and took a slow sip ― all the while watching the girl from over its rim.
As the other girl moved inside to order, Diamond's quill resumed its rhythm across parchment, her cup down set down with a delicate click against the saucer. She adjusted her setup again, making sure everything was properly anchored securely.
Diamond didn't look up again, much. Okay, she did peek the view just a little while the other girl moved past her seat.
And if the table did stay unoccupied, well, she supposed she wouldn't mind the company.
__________________
We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back.........................................
But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass.....................................
The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like
Kimothée Chalamet • The UWU Agenda • Once Baby, Now Trouble • All Growed Up
Text Cut: :D
Quote:
Originally Posted by sweetpinkpixie
How quaint, someone trying very hard to correct a narrative they hadn't asked to be part of but were practically broadcasting anyway. Diamond’s brows lifted ever so slightly, watching her with the faintest hint of amusement.
"Relax," she said breezily. "No one's filing a report. You're allowed to appreciate a face without drafting a marriage contract."
Her gaze lingered just a moment longer, sharper now — noticing the restraint, the way the girl carried herself, the instinct to retreat rather than perform. Reminded her a bit of someone.
"Space for male-induced headaches is a finite resource," Diamond added, almost as an aside, as she settled back in her seat. "Best not to waste it on someone so… " But she didn't finish the thought, he hand gesturing vague in the air as she picked up her cup and took a slow sip ― all the while watching the girl from over its rim.
As the other girl moved inside to order, Diamond's quill resumed its rhythm across parchment, her cup down set down with a delicate click against the saucer. She adjusted her setup again, making sure everything was properly anchored securely.
Diamond didn't look up again, much. Okay, she did peek the view just a little while the other girl moved past her seat.
And if the table did stay unoccupied, well, she supposed she wouldn't mind the company.
Nikita would indeed be guilty as charged for multiple counts of Walking Herself Into Situations Like This. She would never outright admit it. Like so.
"I—well..." Firstly, yes, she was aware of how often she needed to relax. Ev and Claude remind her so many times. One would think that, after being caught in such situations frequently, it would have toughened her skin, but no, apparently not. Secondly, this conversation was jumping from one thing to another. How did boyish smiles turn into a discussion on marriage? "Definitely not thinking of marriage right now." Even more so with a guy who, despite the nice smile, she had no interest with. Blind dates? One thing. Blind marriages? Another, entirely. Pause. "...Or ever. With him. I don't know him." Just to be crystal clear. So thorough, this Nikita.
The other girl fading and not finishing her sentence felt intentional - Nikita can respect that - and so the former Ravenclaw found herself needing to know the end of it. Curiosity, coupled with the introverted squirm-fest that was the past three or so minutes, forced her legs forward towards the counter where the barista stood.
Quick pleasantries were exchanged. An order for a simple latte was placed.
A trio of friends (or siblings, or cousins, who would know?) entered the café, queueing behind her. Please don't take my table.
Nikita glanced behind, out the window, to make sure the table remained unoccupied. I should've left my book out there to reserve the space.
Waiting for something out of her control under these circumstances was such a race against time. It doesn't take so long to make a latte. Please. Nikita tried busying herself by looking at the food menu, place her attention away from the impatient manner she was picking her nails, even though the last thing she wanted at the moment was a mince pie.
As quickly as she thanked the barista for her drink, she pivoted - the grace of a ballerina ever so present - and brisk walked herself back outside. Well, as fast as she could manage without spilling her drink all over herself or the floor. The cup's handle even felt a tad silly in her hand, but whatever.
Nikita only let out a breath, that she didn't notice she'd been holding, the moment she sat down. Phew. So her drink did slosh a teeny bit, but it landed on the saucer, okay?
Anyway!
"...You didn't have to leave me hanging," Nikita finally said, tilting her head to the side at the other girl, once she'd settled down and allowed herself to relax. Relax was a generous word to describe it.
__________________
When all is going wrong and you're scared as hell..._________________________ _____________________...Maybe a hundred bad days made a hundred good stories
SSRPG Admin Gladrags Mod Quibbler Mod Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor
Sea Serpent
Join Date: Aug 2010
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x12 x12
can only unleash her on people who do XD
astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
Diamond didn't even bother hiding the eye roll this time. The earnest tongue-tying earned a slow blink over the rim of her cup, amber eyes catching the light like stage spotlights, before she set it down with deliberate care ― no clinking. It was hardly a crime to notice someone was attractive and, if it were, she would have sent several quidditch teams to Azkaban because of their one-on-one interviews.
Her attention snapped back to her work, the moment dismissed as efficiently as a half-forgotten tweet. Her table was once again a spread of controlled chaos. A few smaller slips of parchment — charmed to stick and unstick like Muggle post-its — were scattered among her main notes kept in place by the contents of her bag, each bearing sharp, punchy fragments:
"Golden Boy or Golden Liability?"
"Seeker Saves the Day—After Nearly Ruining It?"
"Off-Pitch Entanglements: Harmless Fun or Team Distraction?"
"Chasing Snitches, Dodging Commitment"
"From Hero to Headache in One Match Flat"
Diamond underlined the first and the second-to-last with a slow swipe of her quill, her lips quirking into a sly almost mischievous smirk. She reached for a piece of watermelon from her little cup of fruit, pressing it between fingers and brought it to her lips to suck the juice off, eyes never leaving her notes.
It wasn't until the girl sat down again — and spoke — that Diamond looked up, one perfectly arched brow rising in mild amused confusion.
"…I’m sorry, were we mid-conversation?" she asked, blinking slowly, the corner of her mouth twitching with restrained humor. Her attention had already moved on three topics ago. She let her gaze drop back to the scattered papers, picking up her quill with an almost ceremonial flick of her wrist and the piece of watermelon entirely disappearing into her mouth. "If I stopped to finish every passing thought out loud, I'd never get anything done."
__________________
We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back.........................................
But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass.....................................
The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like
Kimothée Chalamet • The UWU Agenda • Once Baby, Now Trouble • All Growed Up
Quote:
Originally Posted by sweetpinkpixie
Diamond didn't even bother hiding the eye roll this time. The earnest tongue-tying earned a slow blink over the rim of her cup, amber eyes catching the light like stage spotlights, before she set it down with deliberate care ― no clinking. It was hardly a crime to notice someone was attractive and, if it were, she would have sent several quidditch teams to Azkaban because of their one-on-one interviews.
Her attention snapped back to her work, the moment dismissed as efficiently as a half-forgotten tweet. Her table was once again a spread of controlled chaos. A few smaller slips of parchment — charmed to stick and unstick like Muggle post-its — were scattered among her main notes kept in place by the contents of her bag, each bearing sharp, punchy fragments:
"Golden Boy or Golden Liability?"
"Seeker Saves the Day—After Nearly Ruining It?"
"Off-Pitch Entanglements: Harmless Fun or Team Distraction?"
"Chasing Snitches, Dodging Commitment"
"From Hero to Headache in One Match Flat"
Diamond underlined the first and the second-to-last with a slow swipe of her quill, her lips quirking into a sly almost mischievous smirk. She reached for a piece of watermelon from her little cup of fruit, pressing it between fingers and brought it to her lips to suck the juice off, eyes never leaving her notes.
It wasn't until the girl sat down again — and spoke — that Diamond looked up, one perfectly arched brow rising in mild amused confusion.
"…I’m sorry, were we mid-conversation?" she asked, blinking slowly, the corner of her mouth twitching with restrained humor. Her attention had already moved on three topics ago. She let her gaze drop back to the scattered papers, picking up her quill with an almost ceremonial flick of her wrist and the piece of watermelon entirely disappearing into her mouth. "If I stopped to finish every passing thought out loud, I'd never get anything done."
The eye roll was so valid, and maybe hours from now Nikita would feel oh so sheepish about this exchange when she looks back at it or when she crawls in bed in the evening to replay her day and remind herself of how embarrassing this entire exchange was been for her thus far. Which was a frequent occurrence for the likes of her, but she liked to think she was doing better at the actual socialisation.
She was going to focus on how glad she was the table at remained unoccupied until she sat down. Tiny victories, some would say.
But if there was anything that could get this introvert to talk - and maybe be less awkward, though that remained subjective - it was curiosity. And Nikita genuinely wanted to know what the other girl had to say. It would eat away at the corners of her brain if she didn't at least clarify. "I suppose not when I had to leave to place an order, but..." Nikita said, lifting her drink from the saucer and using a paper towel that she'd managed to steal from the counter to wipe away the beige liquid on the mug's base. "Well, I'm curious. You don't seem to like him." Was that enough reason? Nikita thought it should be.
Or, you know, the other girl can tell her to mind her own business. It would be a response Nikita could respect, but not the one she was hoping for at this instance.
__________________
When all is going wrong and you're scared as hell..._________________________ _____________________...Maybe a hundred bad days made a hundred good stories
SSRPG Admin Gladrags Mod Quibbler Mod Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor
Sea Serpent
Join Date: Aug 2010
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Hogwarts RPG Name: Professor Cox
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Graduated
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Third Year
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Hogwarts RPG Name: Iris Harden
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Hogwarts RPG Name: Calliope Barrington
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Charles Hollingberry
Minister's Office
Ministry Department Head:
Airey Flamsteed
Mysteries
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Victor García Massey
Ollivanders
x12 x12
astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
Her quill continued its steady rhythm across parchment, finishing off a line with a decisive flick before she finally paused to glance up at her, one perfectly sculpted brow arched once again like she was choosing whether this was worth her time.
A soft exhale escaped through her nose — half sigh, half laugh — as she leaned back in her chair, tapping the end of her quill against her lip and not getting caught in her lip gloss thanks to its long-lasting-no-stick enchantment. "I don't like most pompous men," she corrected. She didn't like men in general, but that wasn't the discussion on the table. "His type is especially. Frozen spit that makes glorified cubic zirconia look expensive."
Her gaze flicked briefly to the photograph she'd reclaimed, then back to her coffee mate.
"But for any real details, you'll have to tune in to my show or check out the next issue of Witch Weekly or… well, I’m actually not sure which magazine is going to buy this scoop exactly, so just keep an eye on the headlines."
She reached for her drink and took a long sip, eyes watching the other girl over its rim once again, debating something for another fraction of a second before rolling her eyes and starting to collect all her trinkets and papers back into her bag.
“If you’re going to keep interrupting,” she said coolly, not even looking up as she tucked a sheet into place, “you may as well do it from the same table.” A jab and an invitation all rolled into one. “Sit.”
__________________
We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back.........................................
But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass.....................................
The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like
Jordan's mouth curved faintly at that phrase—what you need. He didn't comment on it right away, though. Instead, he let the thought sit, turning it over quietly as he lifted his cup again, the warmth seeping into his hands in a way that felt grounding rather than incidental.
"Maybe," he said after a moment, glancing down into the dark surface of his espresso before flicking his gaze back up. "The coffee helps." A small pause, just long enough to suggest there was more to it. "But I think it's more the... familiarity of it." His tone stayed light, but there was a thread of honesty woven through it now, subtle but present.
His index finger tapped once against the side of his cup before he set it down, leaning forward just slightly again, elbows brushing the edge of the table.
"I work in the Ecological department at the Ministry," he said, the answer coming easily enough. "I'm a botanist. My specialty is monitoring magical plant life, making sure nothing decides to proliferate where it shouldn't, and tinkering with making hybrid plants. Not nearly as exciting as the post."
His gaze held Collin's a second longer this time. Then, after a brief pause, his eyes flicked once more to the forgotten food between them before returning to Collin.
"You should probably eat, by the way," he said, tone easy, almost absent-minded but not unkind. "I'd hate to be the reason your 'quality breakfast' goes cold." A small smile followed, softer again, like he didn't mind being the reason at all.
The way that Jordan spoke intrigued him. Collin became suddenly, almost painfully aware of the way he’d been subconsciously tracking the man’s movements. He dropped his gaze down to the food in front of him, grateful for the excuse to look at something else. He really, apparently, needed to get out more.
A deep breath and quick sip of his coffee helped to clear his head a bit, and when he looked back up, he was smiling. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” he said easily in response. Still, he did take a bite, chewing thoughtfully and paused for another sip of his drink before speaking again.
“Don’t get me wrong; I don’t want to downplay the adventure that is the post,” the teasing hint was back to his words, “But I’ve heard that the Ministry has its moments too.Politics and research, and all. Is there any specific sort of hybrid that you’re working toward?” And look, he’d even take this opportunity to eat more of his food. No worries here, Jordan. Keep talking all you want.
Espresso Patronum 
x8 
x8
