Name: Peter Sampson
Nickname: Peter
Attire: Grey t-shirt, light jacket, jeans, sneakers
Location: Mario's Pizza
Tagging: Anyone
Peter followed Jessie and the rest in, looking around. He remembered this place. He came here when Pop was last home.
"Hey guys ya all OK with this table?" He looked at Jessie, then the table, next to the window. Peter nodded. "Yeah, that's good with me." He said, looking around. He could come to like this place, maybe. Tasty food, clean surfaces, good health rating, plenty of exits to run out of...
All the necessities of a good hangout.
"Mmmmmm smells damn good in here. Making me hungry just smelling everything in here." He sat down in one of the chairs, looking at the menu for a moment before calculating odds in his head. He kind of lied when he said he only had three bucks on him. He had a decent job, payed well, and he was eating with friends. Courtesy and Chivalry dictated that he help pay for the meal. It was sensible. In his head, at least.
Then he heard the other voice and he was reminded that he was, indeed, in the presence of other people. Right.
"So, uh," He began, straightening his back a bit. He felt a bit awkward at the fact that he was the tallest out of the group. "What should we order?" He asked, unsure. He could eat anything. Live with his father's cooking long enough and you could eat pretty much anything. He was a good family man, a good military man, but a terrible cook.
He looked at Vikki tuck her hair behind her ear, and noticed some bruising. It wasn't that noticeable, almost all the way healed, which meant that it wasn't recent. Self-harm or something else? He couldn't figure that part out. But he shouldn't bring it up. Not unless he was prompted. He didn't want to cause a scene. But what if he didn't say anything? He didn't know what would happen...
He looked at the skirmish between Trevor and John, but, for the most part, ignored it. He knew that John couldn't do anything here, not in public.
"So..." He began, trying to think of something to say. "Anyone here been called any interesting names?" Smooth move, smart guy, who wants to relive that? "I've been called a hobbit once," He said, trying to lighten the mood. "I don't know why, since hobbits are, like," He flattened his hand and moved it back and forth over the floor at the height of the subject. "Yae high. I told 'em that, then they kinda kicked the crap out of me." He took on a pensive look at that moment. "In severe hindsight, that wasn't the smartest move."
"John want to go some where else where its not taken up by ex's and losers or would you like to stay and eat here." He looked at Missy with a raised eyebrow before he dismissed her. "And I've been called much,
much worse than that. Bit unoriginal, being called a "loser", isn't it?" He asked the rest of the group. He really,
really didn't want things to escalate. If things escalated, then there'd be a fight. And if a fight broke out, well... he'd be screwed. He didn't know how to really fight properly, at least, not someone John's size. When you pitted a skinny nerd against a shit brick house, the nerd lost. Every time. He learned that early on.