"Yeah, it's Maeve," said Maeve, shifting her weight. She lowered her lean onto her forearms against the back of the sofa, and the smell of new leather wafted up where the black material puckered around her elbows. "But 'ginger bitch,' and 'Oi, you!' probably also get the job done." 

"But yeah. My bet is on either sacrificial offerings, or possibly a weird luxury fuck cult for an eccentric patron. Our ready bodies offered to either the Allfather, or All-Daddy." She raised her voice a bit at the end  her blasphemous joke, feeling satisfied as the Blessed now listening in stiffened where he stood. 

"And speaking of ready bodies," she muttered, possibly less under her breath than she had hoped, as the Gym Blonde (possibly named Silvery? Maeve hadn't spoken to her half as often as she had seen her,) joined the room. 

"Oi!" Maeve called with a wave, "Come sit with us, would you? We're discussing whether our keepers plan to kill or fuck us. I'm starting a pool."

[@Daemanis][@echoicchamber]