Maeve
"I've been told I'm the best by people who ought to know." She's one of the most popular at least. The madame reminds her frequently that she's a favorite amongst their visitors and that she keeps them on business. Maeve isn't sure that's entirely true. The madame was doing fine before she showed up and would probably be fine if she left. Except Maeve never leaves. She has no reason to. What is there for her outside of these walls? Nothing. Nothing but disappointment. As she said before, at least you know what you're getting here.
Maeve lays out her own cards, pretending to pout, "I told you. I'm not very good." Her hand is nothing more than a high card. Definitely not anything impressive. Maeve shrugs her shoulders, "Not everyone is like that. There are some that I've been seeing for seasons. If one disappoints me there is another waiting to fill their place. I'd even consider some friends." She's not lying. There are some that she's grown close with. Sailors who warm her bed and bring her gifts and dote upon her when she's hear. She's a lover and somewhere to rest without worrying about commitment. That suits her. Most of the time.
Finally. She has a name. Maeve nods, giving him her cards so he can reshuffle, "Locke." She tests it on her tongue with a hum, liking the sound of it. One syllable. Sturdy. It suits him. "Do I like working here? Isn't that a question... I can't complain. There are worse ways to make a living. I'm treated well. I have a roof over my head and food in my belly. I like meeting people. So yeah... I guess I do like working here. What do you do? And don't bother lying. I've fucked plenty of thieves. Nothing surprises me anymore."
Maeve lays out her own cards, pretending to pout, "I told you. I'm not very good." Her hand is nothing more than a high card. Definitely not anything impressive. Maeve shrugs her shoulders, "Not everyone is like that. There are some that I've been seeing for seasons. If one disappoints me there is another waiting to fill their place. I'd even consider some friends." She's not lying. There are some that she's grown close with. Sailors who warm her bed and bring her gifts and dote upon her when she's hear. She's a lover and somewhere to rest without worrying about commitment. That suits her. Most of the time.
Finally. She has a name. Maeve nods, giving him her cards so he can reshuffle, "Locke." She tests it on her tongue with a hum, liking the sound of it. One syllable. Sturdy. It suits him. "Do I like working here? Isn't that a question... I can't complain. There are worse ways to make a living. I'm treated well. I have a roof over my head and food in my belly. I like meeting people. So yeah... I guess I do like working here. What do you do? And don't bother lying. I've fucked plenty of thieves. Nothing surprises me anymore."
when you are not fed love on a silver spoon
you learn to lick it off of knives
you learn to lick it off of knives
