See No, Hear No, Speak No...

[Guest]

If one were to hear this situation right now, what they would hear would be rather simple. The sounds of a fork clattering onto a plate, and the muffled sounds of a person eating their food. If one were to walk in on this situation, they would see a youthful woman, sitting at a table and eating from a couple of small plates. She would not make many movements, simply moving the food from the plate, to her mouth, and then replenishing the now-empty fork with some more food--eating at a relatively slow pace. Upon the small plates were some items of relative cheapness. On the first was a half-eaten slice of cake. Upon the second was a muffin, and upon the third was a cup of tea, steaming slightly in the mid-morning haze. Sitting at the only seat to this table was a woman of rather small stature, with shoulder-length blue-black hair and glasses upon her face. Sighing softly, the young woman finished up the last of her cake (it was a carrot one), lifted the teacup up to her lips and drank calmly from the china piece, smiling quietly as she did so.

There had certainly been some inherent difficulties in procuring this drink. The major one being the lack of communication--she rarely frequented this small shop, so the shop-fronters didn't actually know her face yet. This presented certain problems, especially when it came to trying to tell them what she wanted. Even if she signed angrily at them, stating each part of her order clearly, it was never enough. The look on her face didn't work either--she had no actual way of being able to tell them: "I want a slice of carrot cake, a blueberry muffin and a nice cup of Cretan Breakfast tea." It was just impossible. Despite having had many years to come to terms with it herself, it was difficult for Sara to be able to explain it properly to others. Maybe it was just that people didn't seem to understand that the girl in front of them was both deaf and mute, and didn't have any way of communicating other than through sign language? Well, there was the obvious writing what you wanted to say on paper, but that never conveyed exactly what... ugh. And now, rambling in the mind of Sara Richter would begin... right on schedule. Who else could you converse with if nobody could understand...?

[Guest]

There was a small 'cling' as the door to the quaint cafe opened up, knocking the bell held just above it and signalling to the workers that a customer had entered. Tugging his scarf down from his face, Oliver did a quick scope of the shops before pacing towards the counter. "Good afternoon," the waif of a man muttered to the current server, a pleasant smile on his mouth as he dug into his coat pocket in search of Anton''s list.

Bringing the folded piece of paper out, Oliver slowly peeled it apart with his needle like fingers and gave it a glance over. "Looks like it's the usual today, though he wants and extra shot in his coffee," peering up from his Boss's shopping list, he eyed the man serving him, "must have been one of those nights." Both men chuckled at Oliver's slight joke, a small trick in order to stay on these people's good side and ensure that Anton's order was delivered with the best intentions. Oliver never ordered anything himself, something you could vehemently believe by staring at his build - now verging on the side of uncomfortably thin given the past few days.

After the man had finished ordering and paid, he wandered over to the small seating area and began to wait. Green eyes regarded little of the room with interest and he seemed to either not recognise Sara or in fact had never really taken the time to memorise her face. Either way, there was no eye contact.

[Guest]

If there was a 'cling' as the door opened, it would have been impossible for Miss Sara Richter to notice--instead, her eyes were fixated completely on the dessert food that was on her plate. Food was certainly something tasty and nice to think about. If she could speak, then she would be making noises like 'mmm', and 'this is so nice!', but those sort of things were not available to her. Instead, she had to suffice with the words being in the back of her mind, formulating themselves in ways that she had never heard before. She had, obviously, written Amestrian before. She'd written it and she'd see it written. That didn't mean that she'd be able to speak it--in fact, quite the opposite. Having never heard it being spoken before, Sara had no way of knowing what it should sound like if one were to speak it. Slowly raising her head up towards the counter in order to keep tabs on her surroundings, she noticed somebody there. Somebody who, though for reasons that were not currently known, looked familiar to Sara. She could try and get their attention? She needed to remember a name, though.

Sliding out of her chair, the woman in relaxed clothing approached the man with careful steps, quietly making her way through the people in the cafe until she stood next to him, staring for a second and taking in his features. He was quiet-looking, and most certainly pale to a degree. As well as this... he was lanky. Didn't look like he'd eaten anything. Sighing softly (since she could make a 'sigh' sound) the girl held up a hand and clicked her fingers. Now, unlike the clicking of fingers that most people made, Sara's was twice--no, three times as loud as the average person's, and most certainly a sharp noise. This was how she who could not speak would get the attentions of people around her. As soon as she had his attention, and was sure that he was looking, she held up her hands and started signing furiously. A person who was anything from advanced to expert in sign language would understand--anyone else would think her crazy. Can you hear me, sir? I want to know if you can understand what I have to say!

[Guest]

Still seated as Sara approached, Oliver had been drumming his long fingers on the table and occasionally checking the time, not wanting to leave his Boss alone for too long - the man might collapse from exhaustion if he wasn't there to feed and water him.

The small, bespectacled girl caught his attention as soon as she began to wander over, though he didn't really think her coming to him see him until she rested in front of him and began to snap her fingers in front of his face. The clicking was rather loud and obnoxious, though the young woman's expression implied she wasn't meaning it to seem so. Oliver raised an eyebrow and turned to face her, expression only deepening in confusion as she began to flap her hands around madly.

It was evident that Oliver did not know sign language and was currently deciding whether Sara was having a fit or possibly a bit 'special'. "Are you alright?" Oliver finally spoke, turning to the shop clerk as if hunting for an explannation to this odd girl's antics.

[Shula Brighton]

{BUMP}

[Sponsored content]