Private Tales The Monday Hip-Hop Bop

[Hop Littlethorn]

Hop Littlethorn awoke to the smallest beam of sunlight peeking through the corner of his window past his curtain. His home was his workplace, the 6 Dragon Cafe, and as he stirred, so too did a few of the little dragons he shared this residence with. Periwinkle, his little blue dragon roughly the size of a cat, always slept with him regardless of the circumstances. Sometimes his little white, Chamomile, would sleep with him as well, although she was prone to cuddling up with some of the other little dragons as well. Shadow, the small black, would always sleep alone, to the point of moving in the middle of the night if Chamomile tried to get close. Jade and Scarlet, the green and red, always slept together in a small basket Hop used to use for making bread, for which he'd had to purchase a new basket. Finally, his little gold Archimedes always slept on a small pile of coins in the corner of bedroom, a hoard which he guarded as jealously as a dragon one-thousand times his size.

Hop himself must have seemed peculiarly ordinary in terms of appearance compared to the small colony of dragons he was fostering. He put his clothes on in a quite normal way, and pulled up his stockings like anyone else might. Once he was finished, he was ready--dressed in the garb of a waiter, with a rather dandy appearance and a small apron to complete the look. He briefly combed his hair before finally heading down and preparing the kitchen, eating some bread when he had a moment. Finally, it was opening time for the little cafe, and by now each of the dragons had assumed their stations. Chamomile had already warmed the coffee and tea, Shadow and Jade had both thoroughly cleaned the dining area (they did this last night at closing, too, but you know dragons need things to be extra tidy), and Archimedes was characteristically guarding and counting the previous week's earnings; Hop thought about buying Archie some spectacles to complete the look. Scarlet was already making bread and had her ingredients to make some of the other foodstuffs of the diner, and Periwinkle kept close to Hop, as he always did.

It was an auspicious morning. Well, it at least seemed that way. Hop always had to be optimistic in this job, because even a higher-class cafe such as his was always at risk of going out of business. Things were fine for now, but they were just fine, and at this point Hop began to feel that it may have even been a rut of sorts. Despite this, he went to the front door, turned the "closed" sign to "open," and waited at the little counter of the little diner, ready to help any and all who came through the doors of the 6 Dragon Cafe.

Lyra Rosewood

 

[Bassel]

Mondays meant to Lyra that Sunday was officially over. Her six day work week had began and it was best to start the week off right. Waking up early, making her bed, then taking her time with her hair. Brushing it twice, applying a light oil to the ends, and then tying it away from her face in a series of knots and twists that intersected into a neat bun behind her. She washed her face next, carefully and skilled, knowing every grove without getting any sort of water onto her hairline.

She got dressed, choosing her favorite navy dress and pairing it with a white blouse. It was such a standard governess look, especially with how pressed and tidy her clothes were. A pair of brown boots, sturdy yet feminine, were the final touches to her attire. Lyra never wore her jewelry or added on any other sort of unnecessary frivolous items. The three noble girls she taught probably would have inspected them and then deemed they cheap.

Just as how they constantly asked Miss Rosewood when she was going to find a man.

Thinking about Ariel, Beatrix, and Cecelia reminded Lyra to go to her humble bookshelf and pick out the well-loved copy of fables she had promised to read to them. On her small desk she had the stack of books for today’s lessons and she placed the Seitz fables at the top of the stack. She opened up her messenger bag, fitting in the books as well as her leather bound journal and portable ink and quill.

And then she was off. At least off in the sense that she was going to get some breakfast. It was a Monday tradition— and the only way Lyra could get out of bed without groaning and wishing to sleep more. Considering her early start on Mondays, it was almost a guarantee that she would be at 6 Dragon Cafe five minutes after they opened, and that was including the time it took for her to greet her neighbors, remark how tall some of the neighborhood boys were getting, compliment dresses of young girls and women, and listen to an old man or two complain about their body aches.

It wasn’t long until she was at the cafe’s door, and she opened it, a bright and cheerful smile on her face. The fragrant smell of coffee and tea warmly greeting her. And of course, the first thing that meant Lyra’s eyes was Hop himself, with one of his adorable little dragons right beside him on the counter.

“Good morning,” Lyra chimed, much like she always had, waving briefly at the owner of the cafe. She had been coming here for almost as long as it had been open, and had fallen in love with the concept first, but continued to come back for the food. “Everyone seems to be hard at work already,” she remarked, noticing Shadow and Jade rearranging the same things over and over. It looked perfectly fine to Lyra but what did she know about symmetry? Dragons had a more keen eye than she did.

Hop Littlethorn

 

[Hop Littlethorn]

It wasn't long before she came in, along with a few other early regulars looking for their morning brew. Hop knew this woman well; a regular, and therefore one of his best customers, or, at least, one of his most consistent. He didn't know her name, or if he'd learned it he'd forgotten it with how long she'd been coming to the cafe, since their first introduction. Periwinkle fluttered his wings upon seeing her (although, truthfully he did that for many guests, since it pleased the little blue to see their reactions). Nearly forgetting himself in the moment, he responded to her at last.

"Good morning, and a pleasure to see you here, as always," Hop said, with a little bow, as Periwinkle mimicked him with a bow of his own. "Shall I get you your regular, or are you looking to spice things up this time?"

He gave her the same characteristic smile he gave most guests. After all, that was the job. He remarked on how tidy she always looked, and how he wished he could maintain a similar standard throughout the day. Inevitably though he'd always end up unbuttoning one button and rolling his sleeves up before the day was through, particularly on the busier days. For now though, he looked about as clean as a waiter could look.

 

[Bassel]

“Mm, let’s see,” Lyra said, that smile never leaving even while she spoke. She looked down at Periwinkle, forcing herself to not reach out a hand and pet the little guy. She was still unsure if these little dragons were apt to bite others, despite the fact that some of them seemed so friendly. Tapping her chin thoughtfully, even if only for two seconds, Lyra looked at Hop with a beaming grin. “I’m thinking today is going to be something out of the ordinary, so if it won’t be too much of a hassle for you, I’d like to have whatever you think will be good on a day like today.”

It was out of routine. Lyra had proceeded to get the same thing over and over and over. She had always gotten black tea, had always used two teaspoons of sugar with just a splash of milk. She had always ordered the same meal over and over: over easy eggs with the rustic wheat bread. Eggs had to be over easy so she could dip the bread in the yolk— it was an absolute must.

And of course, she would go and sit right at the table that she always sat at, in the corner, near the window. Lyra turned ever so slightly and saw that a couple had snagged that spot. Actually, all the window seats were taken. Well. This was… out of the ordinary. Lyra looked back at Hop and clasped her hands together.

“I mean, I trust your tastes. I think… something new will be nice a change of pace is all, but I’m quite indecisive at times.”

Hop Littlethorn

 

[Hop Littlethorn]

Something out of the ordinary?

Orders like this were always difficult to ascertain; what could she even want? She was a regular, to be sure, but he didn't know much about her other than that she frequented most often to write, or perhaps just otherwise prepare for her day.

"A change of pace, huh? I think I can help with that," he said with a wink and a smile. He then showed her to her seat, although he knew that her favorite seat was taken, so he instead took her to one closer to the counter, where he could attend to her needs more readily--customers with broken routines could be quite ornery. He then gave a quick bow and headed to the back, where Chamomile and Scarlet were busy working to make the vital vittles of the cafe.

"Chamomile, I need something more... experimental. One of our regulars is 'feeling strange.' I'm counting on you to come up with something that'll spice things up for her."

The little white turned its head back and forth, perhaps the dragon equivalent of stroking its chin. Finally, she got to work brewing something, the result of which Hop could only guess, as he was already turning to Scarlet to request the meal.

"Scarlet, I don't know if you overheard, but I need some help here--one of our regulars wants to shake things up a bit today, and--"

The little red barked, stopping Hop before he could go any further. It then motioned to what Hop could only describe as one of the largest batches of quiche he'd ever seen, even for her. He supposed it was Scarlet's way of beating the Monday rush. But where did she get all the eggs? It seemed to be a combination of egg, mushroom, spinach, and little bits of bacon. Nothing particularly special about it, but it was at least something different.

Did Scarlet sneak something else into that quiche? It seems too normal. Oh well, no time to think about that now.

He readied a plate of the quiche using a dainty spatula, which he swore made his ritzy clients happier for reasons he couldn't quite explain; it's not like they ever saw the kitchen. In a few minutes, Chamomile would be finished with the coffee. Hop took the pot, the plate, and a little bit of creamer as well in case the guest wanted some. Unbeknownst to him, it was a superheated medium mocha blend with an accent of cayenne, which would indeed 'spice things up,' but Hop had no way of knowing before bringing it to the table at last.

"Here you are," he said with his characteristic smile. "A bit of quiche and a bit of 'surprise me' coffee. Enjoy!"

He left her with a bow, returning to the front to greet more guests. He hoped she was satisfied...

Lyra Rosewood

 

[Bassel]

Lyra followed Hop to her table, and she tried to think positively about it all. Sure, not by the window, but! It was still a nice table. She got out her leather journal, as well as one tome she had been using for research. Lyra wasn’t interested in creating the next great Allierian novel, no, instead she was more focused on spreading literacy throughout the world. After all, it would just make more sense, especially when majority of those in their world still had to look at pictures to know things.

She had come across many trade workers who couldn’t even identify a letter, or any letter. And she wanted to change that. After all, if she could teach three rambunctious noble girls, then couldn’t she write a tome about how to teaching reading and writing to everyone in general. She’d be doing a service to her generation and the many, many future generations to come!

So excited she was about how she’d make the future a better place that it took her a moment to realize that Hop had already returned. She smiled brightly at him, moving her journal and tome out of the way for the time being. Everything smelled delicious, as usual.

“Thank you, this is looking and smelling wonderful.” She gushed. Despite Lyra’s fairly petite frame, she had a hearty appetite on her. And so, as Hop left to tend to others, she prepared her coffee as usual— a good amount of cream— and was about to take a sip but then glanced at the quiche. Shouldn’t she have a bite of that first? And so she did, raising up a napkin as she chewed with a pleased expression on her face. And then for the coffee.

She lifted it up, took a sip and swallowed— and almost choked the liquid out. She raised the napkin quickly to her mouth as she sputtered, forcing herself to swallow, eyes tearing up and turning red. Unfortunately, Lyra didn’t do spicy whatsoever, couldn’t even have too much black pepper in a soup sometimes without hacking away! The moment she swallowed, she gasped for air, her pale face turning beet red— whether from the choking, lack of breathing, the spicy cayenne, or embarrassment of all eyes on her, one couldn’t tell. Although it was probably it was all four combined.

Hop Littlethorn

 

[Hop Littlethorn]

At first, Hop had been encouraged by Lyra's reaction to the food; high class clientele such as his were a temperamental sort, and getting their order 'just right' was always a matter of extreme importance. He thought this, only to discover to his horror that the little regular writer was not only displeased with the 'surprise', but was actively spitting it out across the room and possibly some of the guests--a disaster all around, as he would probably lose both her and many of the other clients presently in the building, including one table that immediately stood up and left at the sight of it.

Wasting no time, Hop rushed back to the kitchen to tell Chamomile of the situation.

"We need a peppermint tea, on the double," he said, with all the urgency of a military commander. But instead of compliance, he was instead sassed by the little white dragon, in small and belligerent barks.

"Yes I know she said she wanted to 'spice things up' but I guess she didn't mean that literally!" Chamomile responded with the draconic equivalent of an eyeroll, the kind any chef who's had an order returned might give. "Look, just get the peppermint tea done before we lose any more customers. I'll give you a double helping tonight."

This seemed to encourage the little white, who proceeded to quickly brew and prepare peppermint tea in a little porcelain teacup, serving it to a saucer with a little flourish. She seemed quite impressed with herself. Hop thanked the little dragon, then returned to the dining area with tea in hand and a new napkin in the other, the whole exchange having taken maybe a few minutes.

"I'm so sorry about that, miss," he said, serving the tea and the napkin for her eyes. "This peppermint tea should cool your throat--please, drink it. And if there's anything else you need today, it's on the house."

He gave her a sheepish smile, praying that she would accept the offering with little incident. He hoped the rest of the week wouldn't prove to be so volatile.

Lyra Rosewood

 

[Bassel]

Oh no, oh no. Lyra could feel all eyes on her, could hear the soft whispers that came after a pause in other table’s conversations. Her leg began bouncing up and down rapidly as she hunched into her self, coughing slightly in hopes of getting that spice out of her throat. That had been the main issue, the cayenne tickling the back of her throat and placing that entire burning sensation along it.

Coughing didn’t really help. Lyra figured as much, but she was still and quiet, waiting for the whispers to disperse so she could try to cough again and see if it worked a second time.

With teary eyes she looked at Hop as he spoke, and glanced at the cup of peppermint tea on the table. Hesitation was clearly written all over her fair features and she cleared out her throat some, folding up the old napkin. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. The back of her throat still burned, and perhaps the peppermint tea would help some.

“I… I’m sorry for the commotion,” she said softly, looking at the tea instead of Hop’s eyes. She felt horrible. Her cheeks were still red and she lifted the tea cup up to her lips. Closing her eyes, half expecting more cayenne to be hidden inside, Lyra took a sip. This time she held the tea in her mouth, seeing if there was indeed any sort of unsavory thing inside, and then swallowed.

“This does help me. Thank you.” She glanced over at Hop, proffering a small smile, mostly because she was about to apologize. “It’s my fault, I should be apologizing, not you. I should’ve been more clear that I am not a fan of spice. Please, it’s alright. I am more than happy to pay for my meal. The quiche is delicious anyways. I just, ah, how to say this, perhaps I feel like I may have caused you more trouble than necessary over my mistake.” Lyra looked over at the table that had left and frowned before looking back at Hop. “They paid, right?”

Hop Littlethorn

 

[Hop Littlethorn]

Hop watched with great trepidation as she finally sipped the peppermint tea, watching with a distinct curiosity as a wave of relief seemed to hit her features at the taste of it.

Well, Chamomile will be pleased to think it wasn't technically her fault.

What she said next, of course, would surprise him quite a bit; he couldn't remember ever having a customer like this before, who was polite and even took some responsibility for the situation, even though it was entirely not her fault, and then even offered to pay after he'd already offered the food for free... He looked into her eyes, then wondered... he felt his heart skip a beat... could it be... was she... the perfect customer?! He wasn't even that upset about the people that left; after all... now he had someone who would come here every day, potentially regardless of any mistakes... and in this economy? Well, even Hop couldn't resist taking advantage of it just a little bit...

The little gold, Archimedes, had gone over to the table of the two patrons who had left without paying their tab, taking its little notebook and scratching something down in it.

"Well, judging by Archimedes' reaction, I'd say they probably didn't pay..." he said, sheepish again. "But that's alright, I just want to make sure you're taken care of after that little mishap. I'll accept your payment if that's what you wish, but I assure you it's no trouble if you don't want to after what happened."

They'd been talking long enough that he started to notice some of her personal effects. Chief among them, of course, was a book and a pen. Was she an author? Wait... was she a reporter?

His heart was truly racing now. This could mean disaster. He might seriously go out of business. One unimpressed reporter was the death of little cafes like his, and for what just happened, there's no way he'd be getting out unscathed. So he did what any desperate small cafe owner might do, and got on one knee, smiling and blinking slowly at her, taking her hand in both of his.

"Please... don't hesitate if there's anything more I can do for you. Your happiness is my top priority here at the 6 Dragon Cafe."

After an admittedly awkwardly long moment awaiting her response, he stood back up, ready to turn and scamper back behind the counter to lick his wounds after the disaster that was this little incident...

Lyra Rosewood

 

[Bassel]

Lyra frowned immediately when she realized that they hadn’t paid. Who did that? Eat a meal, enjoy it, and then just leave just because one woman choked on some spicy coffee? And it wasn’t like Lyra hadn’t covered her mouth! It’s not like she had gone right up to that table and spat in their faces or done more horrible things. And yet they felt so… ah, what was that word? Oh, right, entitled, that they hadn’t even bothered to lay down some coin.

And the woman did feel responsible for them leaving, even if they were obnoxious enough to just leave without paying. Besides, Lyra secretly had a soft spot for Archimedes as it fed her inner teenage fantasy of liking unavailable men and possibly forcing them to open up and turn into a huge softie. If she could ever pat the gold dragon just once she could easily die happy.

Lyra was about ready to offer to pay for their tab, even though she was worried how large their tab was, but then— Lyra raised her free hand to cover her mouth. She gasped slightly from the shock of the cafe owner grabbing her hand, and then going on one knee. Was he… proposing to her? Her gray eyes were wide in disbelief, was she somehow in a fairytale story geared towards noble women in their thirties? A man falling in love with a woman after looking into her eyes was surely fiction. But, if it wasn’t, then how wonderful would it be to smugly tell Ariel, Beatrix and Cecelia that she had found a man by just sitting down at a cafe and choking on some coffee!

“I, uh, oh my,” Lyra mused quietly to herself before shaking her head. Yes. It was fiction after all. It seemed Hop just felt really bad about the ordeal. Nothing more, nothing less. Lyra felt that heat in her cheeks even after he let her hand go and she looked down at her open palm. “Well, thank you.” Was all she could muster out before taking another sip of tea.

Her stomach had flipped a bit considering the sudden actions of the man, and perhaps Lyra’s overactive imagination, but the peppermint tea was cooling. And grounding. Conversation around the other tables seemed to resume and Lyra decided that now that the attention was no longer on her, she could go back to eating her quiche.

She went to take a adjust the peppermint tea as it was close to the table’s edge, and rather unceremoniously, her elbow knocked over the cup of coffee from before. As if the morning couldn’t get any worse, it spilled, the cup landing on the quiche so the coffee could splash all over her opened journal.

“I…” Lyra whispered, to herself, staring at the mess. “I… really, really need some napkins.” And she stood up, knocking her body against the table so that the coffee spread around further.

Hop Littlethorn

 

[Hop Littlethorn]

“Well, thank you.”

Good. His attempts at apology seemed to be going over quite smoothly. Maybe this food critic would be kind to his little cafe after his fervent efforts to correct her dining experience, and...

...and she just spilled the cayenne coffee everywhere, oh gods, this is not happening. He thought he felt some movement by his foot, but didn't check what it was as he began to apologize anew.

"Oh no, miss, please, we can fix that--"

He tried to step forward, but the little black, Shadow, had just snuck up to his foot, ready to clean once the situation had resolved, but not thinking that Hop might need to move--so when Hop tried to step forward, just to turn around, he instead tripped and fell into the now-standing Lyra, yelling Shadow! as he fell to the ground to her side as some of the coffee then splashed them on the ground.

And all Hop could think was: Yep. The cafe is definitely doomed. I might as well close up shop now.

He sat up quickly, brushing himself off as if it would help with the new coffee stains, then staring towards the back of the cafe, too ashamed to even look her in the eye, his cheeks flushed and his face pale. It basically didn't get much worse than this, and he imagined there was going to be some screaming soon, a perhaps trivial concern as more guests packed up and left...

Lyra Rosewood

 

[Bassel]

They had somehow, and exactly how Lyra didn’t know, fallen onto the floor. Was it her? Was it the shop owner? Some other sort of fate? There was that voice inside Lyra’s head that snidely told her: See, this is what happens when you don’t follow routines. You look like a mess. A spazz. A troglodyte. And now you’re going to be late on top of costing this poor man his business.

“I am,” Lyra gasped, her entire body shocking. She could feel it again, that dreaded sensation of all eyes on her, could hear the swinging of the door and shuffle of feet as people promptly began to leave. “I am so sorry. I… I…” she turned onto her hands and knees despite the unladylike posture and stood up still trembling. Her white blouse sleeves were stained with a splatter of coffee and she sighed, shaking her head.

“I didn’t mean…” She stammered before sighing and then reaching a hand down to Hop. “Oh, here, let me help you up. I may not look like it but I am fairly good at cleaning things up, almost as much as I am at making a mess of them.” Even Lyra herself winced at that sort of joke, because really, it was not aptly placed at a time like this.

That was when her gaze caught sight of her journal. Some pages were crumbled up due to the fall, which wasn’t the worse thing ever as that would just require smoothing them out. What was the worst thing was how wet these pages were looking. She could always see the ink smearing about from where she was writing things over the weekend. She felt the knot forming in her throat before even realizing that her eyes had started watering.

All her hard work, what she had written out so seriously with the intent of sharing, was now gone. Sure, she remembered the gist of everything, but there were a few things that were just so well written right inside there and she didn’t know if she could ever recreate those perfectly solid yet simple descriptions in explaining letter sounds.

Hop Littlethorn

 

[Hop Littlethorn]

The journalist's notes, he figured, were ruined at this point, but it was of little consequence, for one did not need a journal to remark on a dining experience as terrible as this one. He was almost paralyzed as it seemed that his every move would only serve to invite more disaster and destruction, and he felt lucky that at least his porcelain dishes at this point hadn't been destroyed--small positives, he supposed, and maybe those would be enough to get him through today.

He looked at her for a moment as she was apologizing, and felt his blood chill as he noticed the stained book, stained clothes, and now mussed-up hair. She was a woman his age, something he hadn't really noticed until now despite her being a regular, and that was what chilled him to the bone, for in her disheveled state, he saw himself there in an incoherent babbling pile on the ground, unable to make rhyme or reason of the situation she was in, constantly apologizing for mistakes that anyone might make... and in doing so, looked at her for an uncomfortable moment. He remembered himself, and what she said, and responded.

"It's really no trouble--Shadow and Jade love to clean, you see," he said, rubbing his neck, the little black hoisting himself onto Hop's leg. Without thinking now that his mind had wandered, of course, he took Lyra's hand, not thinking of the potential consequences when her legs were already so shaky, and tried to stand with her help...

Lyra Rosewood

 

[Bassel]

Things just couldn’t get any worse. The worst had already happened. Lyra chanted this over and over in her head in an attempt to drown at that nagging voice that thought now would be a good time to remind her that she should’ve just gotten her usual like she always did. She feebly smiled at Hop. In truth, this was all her fault, he had done nothing wrong, she just tended to be such a klutz. And really, she was inclined to apologize to him all over again.

“It’s my fault, please don’t apologize, really, I should be saying sorry, not you.” His hand was in hers and she attempted to pull him up but… dear Kress, years of sitting down and writing really did nothing for her strength, did it? And so without hesitation, her other hand clasped his as well and she pulled upwards with all her might, face turning red as she strained to try and accomplish a task that seemed so easily.

Her hands were clammy due to the embarrassment and so a second later, she lost her grip and fell back, landing hard right on her bum. “OOF!” She winced, not realizing that with her legs splayed apart, her long skirt had hitched up. The moment she realized she turned beet red, immediately placing her hands down on her lap and leaning forward.

“I-I-I,” she stammered, now really unable to look the cafe owner in the eye. “I’m not an unsightly woman, I swear. I’m so sorry….” Now he probably thought of her as a common… a common… well, Lyra wasn’t even going to think of that word. She never liked it much anyways, and it wasn’t fair it was only used on women. “You didn’t see anything, did you?” She asked meekly.

Hop Littlethorn

 

[Hop Littlethorn]

Maybe things would finally calm down, Hop thought. He accepted her help, but he couldn't help but notice as she did so how shaky she was, yet more concerning was the clamminess of her palms, which anyone might find unpleasant to the touch, but really the issue was that said hands were slippery... slippery enough that he watched Lyra tumble backwards as he was almost to his feet, her clothes flowing around and her skirt in particular doing something Hop's poor mind couldn't have fathomed. However, given the timing of when she fell, he started to stumble to his feet, only to fall backwards at what perhaps would have been the worst moment for him to see Lyra, but was nonetheless a painful fall that had him hitting both his back and head on the floor.

That's going to turn into a nice little knot, I'm sure, he thought, as he immediately sat up from the fall, rubbing the back of his now-throbbing head. Periwinkle was now sitting on the table, shaking his head at the two of them. At this point, Hop noticed the awkward position Lyra was now sitting in, as she relayed her newest apology... and concern.

"See anything?" He asked, still rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, I saw the ceiling for a bit there, before I hit the ground."

Wait, unsightly? What was she talking about?

"Miss, I don't think you're unsightly at all; you look fine to me--"

Then he really paid attention to her, saw the blushing and the way she was covering herself and holding on to her skirt for dear life. Hop was old enough that he knew exactly what her fears were, and his cheeks were tinged with a sudden red.

"Miss," he said. "Oh dear. No, I don't think I saw anything you wouldn't want me to. Assuming I don't presume over-much about your proclivities..."

Judging by the redness of her face, he hoped she'd be inclined to agree. He stood up, brushing himself off again. Against his better judgment, but feeling some pity for this poor woman, he offered his hands this time in return to potentially help her up.

"How about we get you standing?" He said, cracking a slight smile.

Lyra Rosewood

 

[Bassel]

If Alice, Beatrice, and Cecilia saw their prim and proper tutor now, what would they think? Lyra couldn’t help but think of how the three young ladies would be giddy with laughter over her and Hop’s misfortunate turn of events. It was supposed to be a nice breakfast. The weather was so nice outside. She woke up feeling refreshed. Shouldn’t this mean that today, even if it was Monday, would be a good day?

It had soured so soon, like a flower picked before it could rightly blossom. Lyra adjusted her self, slowly bringing her knees to the ground and swinging her legs under her. She looked up at Hop with her wet eyes, and tried to remind herself that even he admitted he had just been looking at the ceiling. Absently, she looked up herself, seeing nothing interesting above her, but wondering what it must have felt like to fall right back and bonk your head.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, sincere just like all her other apologies and sniffed. She wanted to wipe her nose on her sleeve but refused from doing so. Just because it was stained didn’t mean she could get snot all over it. “Please… don’t drop me as revenge. I promise I hadn’t done that at first, but writing really only works out your wrist you see,” Lyra murmured, lifting up her hands and placing them in Hop’s. She took a deep breath. For Kress’ sake, she hoped Hop was sturdier than she was.

Hop Littlethorn

 

[Hop Littlethorn]

"Please… don’t drop me as revenge. I promise I hadn’t done that at first, but writing really only works out your wrist you see,”

Wait... has someone done that to her before? This poor woman, he thought.

"I have no intention of dropping you; after all, you are an esteemed guest of my little cafe, and I intend to do, well, whatever I can at this point to make sure you have a satisfying experience," he said, offering a joking smile. In a moment, he'd help her up with his hands. Maybe the timid thing was an act, and she would nail him later in the press when he couldn't change her mind? It was nonetheless a strange situation, and while there had certainly been accidents before, there hadn't been anything like this...

Jade and Shadow were already on the scene. The little green was cleaning the table, using its breath to clean and sanitize as the little black already had its little broom and dustpan, cleaning up the little bits of quiche off the ground. Archimedes now sat atop a chair, like Periwinkle, although it was clear he was expecting her payment anytime.

"I uh... never got your name, miss, but let's call this little accident a day and it's no trouble if you don't want to pay, considering the spicy coffee is what started this whole mess. I'm Hop, by the way, and it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, beyond just seeing you in here almost every day. I hope that this isn't the last time."

He gave her a real smile. It was about all he could think to do now.

Lyra Rosewood

 

[Bassel]

Lyra’s closed her eyes as Hop hoisted her up, still expecting that somehow her hands would slip from his and they would both end up back on the ground. Yet, the moment she could feel herself solidly up on her feet, she opened her eyes and sighed in relief. Finally, something that had actually gone right. It was then that as Hop spoke, she nodded her head to show she was listening, but turned around so that she could pick up her journal, doing her best to not get in the way of the little dragons.

“My name? Oh,” Lyra glanced up from her damp journal, her hands gentle in their dealings with the book showcasing all of Lyra’s efforts. “Lyra Roselane.” She responded finally, a small smile appearing and then held out a hand for Hop to shake. It was an unusual gesture, really she should probably be curtsying or bowing, but they had already touched one another’s hands twice so Lyra didn’t see the harm in a handshake.

“I’ll be back. I mean, I love this place.” Her smile soon turned into a frown as a solemn look came about. “I’m really quite sorry about the mess, truly. It’s my fault, after all, if I had just ordered the usual then everything would have gone the way it was supposed to.” Lyra’s gaze faltered back down to her journal and she closed it with a resolute sigh. She’d salvage what she could later, rewrite what couldn’t be saved. She was just happy that the tome she was using for research was safe.

She grabbed her messenger bag, placing the tome and the journal back inside.

“I’m also really sorry if I cause you… permanent damages.” She didn’t know how else to apologize for the fact that so many customers had just walked out. The idea still peeved Lyra, especially the people who left just because she had coughed a little.

Hop Littlethorn

 

[Hop Littlethorn]

A handshake was certainly an unorthodox way for a woman of her status to be greeting him, especially given the circumstances, but Hop figured that her clumsiness perhaps extended beyond the physical, which was completely possible, and after all, he was a charming waiter, right? Lyra--ah, that's her name--wouldn't have been the first woman who had lost her figurative balance around him. But that's what kept the tips flowing in, too. That and the little dragons that only added to his charm.

Then again, she seemed to be taking this really hard. And he wasn't about to exploit her when she was so clearly having the worst morning.

"It may seem like ordering something different may have caused this, but this might have happened to anyone, Miss Roselane. As for the damages..."

He looked at all the empty, unpaid tables.

"...Well, there's more to worry about in life than money. I'll be fine... as, I'm sure, you will be too. Just make sure to come back tomorrow for a fresh cup of coffee, okay?"

He gave her another trademark smile, releasing her hands, and hoping his answer was satisfactory for setting her on the right path again. And, on the path back to his cafe the following morning, of course...

Lyra Rosewood

 

[Bassel]

“But it’s your business,” Lyra interjected, a firmness to her voice. Or, as she liked to call it, her governess voice. Not quite akin to chastising yet with a maternal note and a fierce look to show just how much Lyra believed in this fact. “I appreciate your kindness, and your words of comfort,” she gestured around them with one great swooping motion of her arms, “but it’s not fair that everyone just left because… because I made a mistake.” With a huff, Lyra crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head.

“People left just because I coughed. You’d think I had the flux and was coughing on them by the way they were acting! Ridiculous. If they were nearby I’d chase after them right now.” The fire from her expression slowly ebbed away. Having red hair, anytime she got slightly angry, people always seemed to chalk it up to that. But in reality it was probably because she had some sort of cortosi blood in her, maybe a great-great grandfather or grandma that was washed out from her features but still thriving and humming in her hot blood.

“And the poor, darling dragons.” Lyra mused, looking over at Shadow and Jade, cleaning so reverently, doing such a great job at the mess she had made. An exasperated sigh. What was done was done, there was nothing she could do now. “Just please tell me that this whole event won’t make you go bankrupt over night?”

Hop Littlethorn

 

[Hop Littlethorn]

Perhaps it was because of the energy she was putting into the conversation, or perhaps it was because she seemed to feel genuine remorse, or maybe it was because she had a certain appeal to her appearance unlike most of the highborn ladies who ventured into the Cafe. Or, maybe it was just because he'd fallen and bumped his head; regardless, he decided he would speak to Lyra on a more personal level than before. After all, there wasn't anyone left to leave except her, right?

"Well, for starters, I won't go bankrupt, though it's kind of you to be concerned," he said. "But you should know that they weren't concerned that you were coughing, nor that you might be ill, but rather that the food was so offensive that you couldn't help but hack it back up. Appearances are everything, and while it isn't your fault, that's just business."

She'd said a lot, but he had a lot to say, too.

"Chasing won't do you any good. It's possible some of them left just because of the commotion. They might even come back tomorrow," he said, with a little bit of an impish smile. "My doors are never closed to those who might want to do business here, and besides, my coffers are plenty full from all the noble stock who dine here..."

He paused for a moment. It was probably too much to reveal all at once to the poor woman given what had already happened, but she was speaking earnestly, so he was, too.

"I fear more for you, Miss Roselane, for that dress can't be particularly convenient to replace, and coffee stains are some of the hardest to get out... and I would know," he said. "That said... perhaps you could swing by, when you've got some free time, and I can have Jade go to work with cleaning it." He flicked his head towards the little green that suddenly had its gaze transfixed on Lyra.

"They are little dears, and they love to help out," he said. "So it's no trouble, and I hope you'll take me up on that offer."

He gave her a half-smile in encouragement. It was the right thing to do, right?

Lyra Rosewood

 

[Bassel]

Lyra balked. That the food was offensive? Just from a cough? Was this some of that noble “sign language” she had often heard whispers about. Like how if someone pursed their lips to the left it meant something bad while to the right it could be considered a playful smirk? She may have been in her late twenties, but that didn’t mean that she understood all these micro expressions that the wealthy and noble often displayed to only be understood and recognized by them.

“But what if they don’t?” She pressed. Was it guilt at this point or was she just trying to seek more assurance? Lyra wasn’t sure and was about to argue further how she had ruined everything for Hop for the next decade or so until he pointed out her state of dress. She looked down at the white sleeves of her blouse, and sighed.

“This is my favorite blouse.” Lyra murmured, twisting her wrist here and there and checking out the dark splatters. It reminded her of a starry sky but not in a good way, and she glanced at Jade. She had no idea were to begin in trying to fix this, but could a little dragon do better? They had magic after all, she was just a regular human woman.

“It wouldn’t be a trouble if I came by during the evening?” She asked, hesitant yet hopeful all in one. Morning wouldn’t do, she would immediately go back to her routine the instant she stepped out of this cafe, but perhaps on her way back from teaching young little minds… well it wouldn’t hurt to come back for just an hour or so?

 

[Hop Littlethorn]

Hop felt he'd already assuaged Lyra's concerns with his previous comments, and so elected to ignore that one last question about whether or not his business would be alright. It didn't matter, asking it--either it would be, or it wouldn't, and he'd spent far too many sleepless nights already on such a question. It wasn't her business anyway, he figured. He instead pushed the conversation towards her blouse again, as it was a sensible one for business, as after all, one long-term customer was worth a lot more than a few haughty women who can't stand the sight of a woman like Lyra hacking up a lung at her spicy brew.

What kind of woman was she, anyway, apart from being too apologetic? He was shaking his head internally.

"No, it wouldn't be trouble at all. Jade loves cleaning, and she does quite a good job of it. It even leaves a nice scent afterwards, in case you noticed it on my clothes."

The little green did leave a scent behind, which smelled of aloe and some other natural fragrances Hop wasn't sure about. But it did smell alright, at least to him. Jade wagged her long, slender tail excitedly at the prospect, her eyes focused on the stains on the blouse.

"Dining closes at 3PM--you can drop by any time after that, and we'll see that your blouse is tidy as can be. I'll look for you then!"

It seemed it was a deal, at least. He was starting to take a strange interest in Lyra, though. Was she a journalist, or something else? He'd corner her later about it, get some answers, and maybe that would set his mind at ease...

Lyra Rosewood

 

[Bassel]

Lyra mused silently for a moment about what would be the right thing to do, because really, was it fair for her to come back and expect Hop to ask Jade to clean one of her blouses? But when she looked at the little green’s dragon eager expression— or rather, it was the fact that she wagged her tail that made Lyra assume she was eager— the woman finally relented.

Taking a step forward, she leaned in, dipping her head down close to his shoulder and taking a sniff. He was right. His clothing did smell nice. Fresh but not overbearing. Lyra was always careful about scents, it was just part of the practice of being polite. She took that step back, clasping her hands in front of her and nodding her head.

“You’re very right, you do smell good. I’d really appreciate it, then. But, I won’t be able to stop by until the evening, about six o’clock. I’ll pay you for it of course.” There. Some way she could feel like she was taking responsibility. Sure it wasn’t enough to cover all the other tables that had gone up and left, but it would be enough for now. “Oh, but I ought to get going. Here, for the meal. It was delightful, really.” She pulled out her coin purse from her bag, and left it on the table before scurrying off and waving good-bye, hoping that this quick escape kept him from noticing that she had left far more than what was needed.

---

HOURS LATER​

Lyra’s feet felt weary as she made her way back to Hop’s cafe. The girls had been rambunctious as usual, but her disheveled appearance made them more rowdy than usual. There had been a steady stream of questions and snickers that Lyra had been very patient with for the first five hours. It had only been that during lunch that Cecelia thought it would be hilarious to reenact what she thought happened to Lyra to look so unseemly that caused Lyra to huff and glower.

It only caused the three girls to giggle instead of stop.

She couldn’t wait to fix her blouse though. And hopefully get that same scent that Hop had earlier. And so as she was on the doorstep to the cafe, she put a hand on the handle but didn’t turn it. Was she just supposed to walk in? Was she supposed to knock? What time was it? Too late? Too early? Was six really a good time? He could be having dinner right now, or perhaps feeding the little dragons. What if one of them got ill and he was no longer there?

What if a meteor fell on the cafe right now and a huge dragon appeared, c’mon, Lyra, stop being such a worrywart! She thought to herself. Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle, surprised to see it was unlocked, and peeped her head inside.

 

[Hop Littlethorn]

“You’re very right, you do smell good. I’d really appreciate it, then. But, I won’t be able to stop by until the evening, about six o’clock. I’ll pay you for it of course.”

While he was pleased that she found the scent amenable, and he should have been more than willing to take the payment from her, Hop nonetheless found himself unable to accept these terms lying down. But then, before he could react, she'd already plopped the coin pouch on the table, its unceremonious thud and jingle catching his ear and eye momentarily--as well as those of the little gold, Archimedes, who slowly flew over and landed next to the pouch almost immediately. It also occurred to him that there was no way she could have counted all that gold, and, more worryingly, he wondered if she could really afford that, given that while he found her appearance to be agreeable given his own station, her own was not that of a noble lady, but perhaps someone who worked for one.

But that was none of his business, right? She was just a customer and he was probably overthinking this. Probably. She didn't seem the type of young noblewoman who often came in here and fell for him, or the dragons, or both, with an infatuation he'd exploited far too often to remember for his own personal gain. But he had to make a living and as shameful as it was to use the little dragons for profit, it was at least a symbiotic relationship. Still, given where he'd gotten them...

No, he didn't want to think about that, right now. Lyra had reached the door before he could say so much as a word, so he cried out, hurriedly: "O-oh, thank you! I'll see you then!" He added a wave as well, though he doubted she saw it.

What a commotion, he thought.

******

In the time while Lyra was gone, he helped Jade and Shadow tidy the place up a bit. He allowed Archimedes to take the coin pouch and count it, but he was still deliberating about that little pouch through the rest of the time he was serving new customers. He did decide to close a little early, around noon or so, as the morning excitement had him feeling a little timid. As the doors closed, he breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the last customer walk away through the window glass. He found he was doing that a lot more lately.

Hop had some lunch after that, making some simple bread and butter with a little bit of leftover dragon-grilled chicken. Scarlet's fiery breath was perfect for the task, whether grilling or roasting, something he was thankful for daily, just like little Chamomile and her brewing skills. Having the little dragons certainly made it cheaper to run his establishment, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was too much work for them, sometimes, even though he was closed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. He assumed they would just stop working if they didn't want to, but he knew they were far more intelligent than even the average house cat, and he worried they were pushing themselves just to please him.

He took a short nap after that, with his regular snugglers Periwinkle and Chamomile finding their way to the bed as well. In the corner, he could hear Archimedes with the coin pouch, doubtless counting the coin pouch that was causing Hop so much concern... After all, a reporter could say that he charged exorbitant prices, even though she gave the pouch freely... They were paranoid thoughts, to be sure, but they lingered on his mind as he slipped into a light slumber.

When he awoke, he sat up and immediately smoothed over his now-messy hair from the nap. He had no idea what time it was, but it seemed it was still the afternoon. He got dressed again in more casual clothes and headed down to the dining area, going to the counter to retrieve his ledger of income, expenses, and of course, how much he'd owe in taxes from the bills and tips. Periwinkle, as always, shadowed him wherever he went. As Hop sat down, Archimedes joined him, bringing with him both Lyra's coin pouch as well as a second one. Hop inspected the pouches and counted them for himself, realizing that Archimedes had counted the exact total for Lyra's order and placed it into one pouch, and the rest into another.

That's brilliant, he thought. Well, it lifted the burden of choice from his shoulders, at least. And she'd be coming by any time, right?

As he started the daily counting, he heard the door creak open. Archimedes perked his head at the door, though Periwinkle was fast asleep on the table. Hop turned his head to see Lyra, who seemingly had decided to take him up on his offer.

"Welcome back," he called out, standing up from the table to greet her. He could always finish the books later. "How are you? Ready to get that blouse cleaned up?"

He'd have to find Jade first, but having another person here would be strange. He rarely ever saw other people after hours.

Lyra Rosewood