âsee, thatâs what you say now but trust me when i say its been proven i can bequite distracting.â she appreciated his polite writing but it would be rude if she didnât give him a truthful, upfront warning. âplus, once you decide to get coffee, thereâs no way you can get not get coffee,â gage agreed, spouting nonesense in a mock-wise manner. ânah, iâve been around since before the rush. free internet is a godsend, yaâknow?â
âHow can you even prove something like that? I feel like thatâs pretty subjective depending on who youâre distracting. Because itâs really hard to distract me, unless you move around a lot or something,â he shrugged and wrote. "Yeah, once I got here, there was no way I could leave without coffee. Youâre right, free internet is the best. I went to a coffeeshop that didnât have it once, and I donât know if they understood that the main reason people sit in coffeeshops for hours is because of the free wifi, but Iâve never gone back.â
mariana grinned when she realized sheâd bumped into peter, bumping her cart against his playfully, careful not to knock it too hard. âWell jeez,â she said, signing with it, âyouâre a menace to the rest of us with carts!â her face and voice were teasing, and she gave peter a smile, leaning on the handlebars of her cart. âyou stocking up for the storm too?â
âI know, I canât believe I havenât hit more people yet. Distracted driving kills, you know,â he signed and smiled. âYeah, Iâm not sure how bad itâll be, so Iâd rather be prepared even if it turns out to be nothing. At least now I have an excuse to stay inside and do nothing. Do you think itâll be bad?â
mariana hummed as she meandered through the grocery store, pushing her cart along. she wasnât particularly worried about the hurricane - or the threat of a tornado, honestly - but sheâd take any excuse to hole up with some warm food and drinks while it poured. she stopped in front of the teas and coffees, looking around for a moment before stooping to grab a box of hot chocolate and tossing it into her cart. she continued down the aisle, pushing her cart out of the aisle and letting out an oof when she bumped into another shopper. âsorry!â she said, smiling sheepishly, âguess the rain affects the driving even inside.â
Peter couldnât pretend that he wasnât kind of excited for the storm. He knew it was dangerous, but he loved bad weather, when everything got dark outside and the sky would occasionally light up with lightning. He wasnât worried about the storm, but decided to stock up on groceries just in case it got bad. He wasnât paying attention when the other cart hit him, and looked up to see Mariana. âNo, youâre good. I totally understand. Iâve been so out of it today, I should have been paying more attention,â he signed.
finn was buried in his usual field notebooks. however, they werenât filled with potential artifacts for the museum like they had been in the past. the pages were covered in theories and notes on his wife and her murder. what had happened? who were the suspects? he pored over them his eyes red and strained from reading his small, cursive handwriting. something had to be in here. he snapped into reality for a moment when he felt a tap on the shoulder. he did a quick scan of the cafe confirming there were no other open spots. âuh, sure, be my guest,â finn motioned to the seats across from him. he swept his arm around the notebooks, drawing them closer to his own side of the table. âsorry about the mess, i am trying to get some work done.â
âThank you,â Peter typed as he sat. He managed to navigate through the pile of notebooks on the table to set his coffee down and was able to type more quickly, âItâs okay. I donât need much room. If Iâm interfering at all, let me know. This looks like a lot of work.â He gestured to all of the notebooks as he set the phone down for the other man to read.
bea jumped a little when she felt the tap on her shoulder, looking up and blinking at the phone in her face. she read the words on the screen and shook her head a little. âitâs - iâm - iâm fine.â she said unsteadily, pushing her hair back - clearly she wasnât fine, but she wasnât quite sure how to articulate all of what she was feeling just then. âiâm - panic attack. anxietyâs a bitch.âÂ
Peter felt bad that he had scared her when she was clearly in a bad state, not meaning to make the situation worse. He strained to read her lips as she spoke, but the last two sentences she said were clear. He nodded and wrote, âIâm sorry. I understand how it is, and I understand if you donât want to tell me anything. Obviously, Iâm a stranger. But if you need someone to talk to, or you need me to take you somewhere, Iâd be more than happy.â
looking up from his laptop, archie raised an eyebrow at peter. âit will cost you ten dollars per minute,â he signed with a grin, before tipping his chin towards the seat across from him. it was a joke, pulled with an easiness that came with their friendship. quickly, archie stacked up a couple of books and papers that were scattered all over the table, âfancy seeing you here, though.â
Peter rolled his eyes, knowing that Archie was just messing with him. âAs if youâre worth that much,â he joked back, sitting across from his friend. âGreat minds think alike and all that. Are you working on something?â he asked, gesturing to the pile of books and papers.
jace was jotting down lyrics as they were fresh in his mind, so he was a little irritated when someone tapped on his shoulder, interrupting his stream of consciousness. he immediately felt guilty for that irritation as they asked, via text, if they could sit there. jace nodded politely, biting his lip in embarrassment. he quickly scribbled down on his paper, âare you deaf?â and slid it towards the person now sitting to his right. he then took it back and wrote âps sorry if that was rude to ask, iâm not familiar with the etiquette :/â.
Peter smiled as he sat down and tried to read the paper. He was about to respond when the boy took it back and wrote more, sliding it back to him. Peter laughed when he saw what he had written and wrote back, âYeah, Iâm Deaf. Youâre totally fine, itâs a fair question. I donât think thereâs a proper etiquette anyway.â
bea stared at her phone in horror as she reread the larriesâ post - sheâd been dreading their threat of revealing secrets, and what theyâd said about her.. sheâs actually the one who burned down the diner. she got tired of working there, and we suppose she just snapped one day. they couldnât have been further from the truth - she loved the diner more than anything. she wasnât tired of working at the diner; she wouldâve worked there forever if sheâd been able to. her heart constricted and her chest tightened, and she was suddenly very sure that she was having a panic attack. leaning over, she tucked her head between her knees and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to slow her breathing.
Peter was walking to work when he saw someone on the ground, breathing heavily. Worried that she might be hurt, he leaned down and started typing furiously. He tapped her shoulder as gently as he could to avoid scaring her and showed her his phone, asking, âAre you okay? Do you need help?â
a snort escaped her before she could consider it would be rude- then again, even if she deemed it might, she probably would have let it slip regardless. âdude, itâs cool. a few spooks wonât kill me. it just shows i need to be on my toes a bit more. all is forgiven, for real.â she assured him, easily moving past the mini heartattack heâd given her. she watched him take a seat and offered a grin. âseriously, no problem worries. iâm gage, if i bother you at all, you let me know.â she answered back, eyes crinkling with mirth as she proped her chin up with her fist. âyou picked a helluva time to get coffee, huh.â
âI doubt you will, but thank you. Itâs nice to meet you,â he wrote and smiled at her. âI know. I didnât realize how busy it would be until it was too late. Did you get caught up in this too, or were you lucky enough to not wait in line for so long?â
sawyer had been sat in the corner of the cafe for what felt like hours on end, completely lost in his computer screen. now that heâd finished his studies, he had nothing truly important to be doing, but fucking around on the internet and playing the sims surely beat dwelling on his own issues at the moment. looking up only when he felt someone tap on his shoulder, he smiled as he read the message, nodding enthusiastically. âsure, dude, the seatâs all yours,â he said, widening his eyes slightly in embarrassment almost immediately, âoh, sorry. should i be, like, typing stuff out for you?â he pointed to the phone, then, hoping he was getting his message across. the last thing he wanted was to be an inconvenience to anyone.
Peter smiled as he sat across from him, glad that the boy had been considerate enough to ask if it would be easier for him to type. âIf itâs not too big of an inconvenience, that would be really nice. Thank you,â he wrote, blushing as he showed the phone to him. He knew that it wasnât a huge deal to ask someone to do something that would make his life easier, and, in theory, he hated when people refused to make an effort to accommodate him. Still, he was always a little nervous they would think he was asking too much or being annoying. âIâm Peter.â
âOh, would it be ignorant of me to ask if you can hear even though youâre deaf?â She wrote back on the paper.
Peter tried to bite back laughter, unsure of whether she was being serious or not. âI wouldnât say itâs ignorant, but, no, I canât hear. Being unable to hear is kind of like a prerequisite of being Deaf.â
â the unfamiliar voice had harley looking up with a confused blink. he didnât recognize the man, but he relented, âoh. yeah, go ahead, sâlong as you donât mind if i do weird poses with my hand?â he wiggled the fingers of the hand that he was currently holding in front of him. his other hand rested over an open sketchbook, filled with hands in various angles. a number of them had been scribbled out. âor, actually, if you wouldnât mind letting me use your hand, thatâd be cool too. youâve got draw-able nails.â he grinned at the stranger.
Peter raised an eyebrow at the request, unsure if he had read his lips right. When he looked at the sketchbook, he realized he must have been right and shrugged. âThank you? I donât mind at all. What do you want me to do with my hand?â he wrote, still a little bit confused but grateful for the space.
with her items cramed onto the chair beside her, there were two empty seats left at the table she was occupying. truthfully, gage often tried to avoid taking up one of the fourtops but in this situationâŚwell, sheâd been there since before the rush had occured and it was one of the only ones that had access to an outlet. which left her slouched in a chair as she looked over the paper she was in the middle of writing on death penalties in the judicial system. she was actually so engrossed that when there was a tap on her shoulder, she physically jumped. âoh shit, dude!â she exclaimed as she whirled around to look at whoâd wanted her attention. âyou scared me. not coo-â she paused, eyes trained on the phone as she read it. âhuh,â she squinted at it for a moment before looking up at its owner. âsure, man. feel free, i donât need all this space.â
Peterâs eyes widened as he realized he scared her. He quickly deleted the text from his notes app and replaced it with, âIâm so sorry, I didnât mean to scare you at all. I should have been more considerate, Iâm sorry.â He smiled slightly as she gave him permission and sat across from her. âThank you. Iâm Peter. If I bother you at all, please let me know.â
âNo, I would love to have you.â She said moving her stuff off the table. âMy name is Maia by the way, whatâs your yours.â
Peter smiled as she made room. âItâs nice to meet you. Iâm Peter. Iâm Deaf, so if I get in your way, just tap on my shoulder to let me know,â he wrote.
Peter had just gotten his coffee from the barista as he looked up to see that the cafe was completely filled, save for a few empty chairs at already-occupied tables. In the corner was someone sitting by themselves at a table that could fit four, so Peter made his way over, typing on his phone to ask for a chair. He tapped on the personâs shoulder and showed them his phone, asking, âDo you mind if I sit here? I wonât be a bother.â
( Sean Berdy, cis male, he/him ) â you wonât believe who i just saw walking down main street! SEAN BERDY! what do you mean thatâs just PETER KEATS? who? a 26-year-old FLORISTâŚinteresting. and they are FRIENDLY & HELPFUL, but i should watch out for when they are ABSENTMINDED & WEAK-WILLED? will do.
Hey guys!! Iâm Isabella, and Iâm super excited to rp with yâall!! This is my babe Peter whom I adore!! Iâm super open to any plots, so hmu!!
Background (cancer tw, death tw)
Peter was born as the only Deaf person in a family of hearing people. From an early age, his parents disagreed on how to raise him. His mother wanted to give him a Cochlear implant and try to make him pass as hearing, while his father thought that Peter should be the one to make any decisions about getting a Cochlear implant later in life, wanting to raise him to be proud of who he was, rather than ashamed. They compromised; Peter was sent to a Deaf school, but went to speech therapy four times a week in order to learn how to speak and read lips. His mom knew very little sign language, trying to encourage him to speak more; all this did, however, was drive Peter away from her and towards his dad.
He was raised in New York City, where both of his parents were prominent attorneys. While he was able to go to a Deaf school, he was often bullied outside of school, and grew to rely on his older brother to protect him.
His family had a vacation home on the cape, so he and his brother spent a large part of their childhoods there.
When Peter was 14, his father was diagnosed with brain cancer and died less than a year later. Peter fell into a deep depression for years after. After his fatherâs death, they stopped going to the cape and eventually sold their house there.
Four years later, Peter went to university and never looked back. He had never had a good relationship with his mother, and it was as if their lives were entirely separate. His brother had been in college for two years, and the two years he spent alone with his mother were the loneliest years of his life.
After college, he felt lost and decided, on a whim, to return to the cape, where he had so many incredible memories from childhood. It was the place where he was always the happiest, so he moved back as soon as he graduated and opened a flower shop.
Peter can speak, but prefers not to. He usually reads lips or speaks to communicate with someone who doesnât know sign language.
Extras
can get easily frustrated when people make no effort to be accommodating, especially as he puts in the effort to read lips
just really friendly and nice; he loves people and wants to be everyoneâs friend
Peter is gay, but has never been in a serious relationship for fear of coming out to his mother
