#𝐦𝐚𝐞𝐯𝐞 / ft. eliza marquis

[havntedhouses]

At least Maeve wasn't the only one who preferred craziness to stability, it really did get boring quickly. And if anyone that read your future claimed that nothing bizarre or strange would ever happen again, they weren't being honest. Walking a couple steps behind her, she tried not to be surprised when she asked who she was, remembering that technically they had never met even though Maeve knew just about everything about Eliza. It came with the territory of dating Thomas for as long as she had, probably a lot longer than had been wise. Reaching out, she took her hand and shook it firmly with a warm smile. "Maeve. It's a pleasure to meet you, Eliza."

— SHE CLAPPED HER HANDS together in delight, a laugh lilting past rose petal lips. " the crazier the better ! " , she assured her. " given my life so far, it wouldn't feel authentic without at least a little insanity awaiting my future. " eliza shot back the last sip of her drink, shooting her new friend a smile, before she turned on the seat of her chair and slid down.

beckoning for the other to follow, fawn-colored curls twirled down her back as she sauntered to the exit. she'd never been much of a patron of the occult. still, an after-dark tarot reading ( among other potential ooky-spookiness ) was exactly what she needed to spice up her horrifyingly dull night. a chill of excitement prickled along her arms.

stopping just short of the door, eliza turned on her heel, leveling the lady with a curious look. " i don't usually go home with strangers. after all, pretty girls are known to go missing around here . . . " she mused, her hand extending outward. " so i should probably introduce myself. i'm eliza. and you are ? "

[havntedhouses]

It wasn't that Maeve didn't like Eliza, she simply didn't know her. She knew of her, she had practically been a third wheel the entire time she'd been dating Thomas and she didn't hold any of that against the woman - it hadn't been her fault. Still, there was something about her that didn't exactly rub Maeve the right way. Something she couldn't quite place but she tried not to dwell on that and usually didn't even think of it until she said something like cute in a voice that made her feel like she was being judged by someone who knew nothing about her. But no matter. "Now?" Maeve asked, immediately laughing not at the idea but at how much it actually sounded like a good option. "I mean, we could, I don't see why not. But you might have to excuse me if the reading is a little insane, I have had a few drinks." Honestly, that might make things even better, Maeve had never tried it before. "If you want to keep the party going, I do have a couple of bottles in my apartment over the shop, we could make a real night of it."

— ELIZA WASN'T SURE HOW much she believed in the occult mysticism that many of the superstitious townsfolk obsessed over. though she possessed a wild imagination, her mother had been a woman of science and logic. ouija boards, tarot; it was all good fun, but nothing to realistically fret over. though the raven-tressed woman's passion could be considered admirable or enticing, eliza found it cute— in the way a child gushing over their favorite cartoon or doll is simply . . . 'cute'.

still, as little as she swallowed the spiritualism schtick, eliza had fallen too deep into the rabbit hole of what unknown future this person would bestow ( or curse ) her with. and patience was not a virtue she'd taken the time to nurture. " well, how much is your after-hours special ? " , she asked in a syrupy voice, trying not to let the eagerness show so clearly. " it is your shop, isn't it ? so what's stopping us from taking our drinks to-go and having kumbaya . . . "

[havntedhouses]

"If I ever do try and get into palm reading, you'll be the first to know." She quasi promised. It had never been Maeve'e forte, and she wasn't sure how much she believed was true but there were moments when people could clearly predict someone's life from the lines on their palm; tracking the life line as it bent and curve, the love line growing and fading. She could appreciate it even if it wasn't her calling. "I'm open pretty much whenever I want to be." She shrugged, smiling softly at her. "I'm open tomorrow ...and how much are the readings or how much of a discount?" Maeve asked with a soft laugh.

— AN ANNOYED PUFF OF air escaped eliza. she hated being corrected, even when she was blatantly wrong. alas, this was all terribly confusing and way out of her wheelhouse. the only 'stars' she was familiar with were the ones laid on the hollywood walk of fame, and her knowledge of crystals went no further than how best to accessorize them.

splayed fingers curled back into her palm as she pulled her hand back, letting it rest comfortably in her lap. " bummer. " , she sighed. as impossible as it sounded, eliza had genuinely hoped the pseudo-psychic had all of life's answers. but, just as quickly as her interest had begun to feign, her tune switched back to one of delight. arching a brow, eliza replied: " seriously ?! that would be so fun ! when do you open ? and, like . . . how much exactly . . . "

[havntedhouses]

"With the rubies." Maeve gently interjected, not wanting to ruin this vision Eliza had created for herself. "You have to have the rubies too or else we're back in the innocence zone of just pearls and who wants that?" Not Maeve. Not in any definition of the word. There was far too much societal weight on innocence, and it tended to ruin things - almost everything. Far too overrated in her opinion. "I am." Maeve agreed, slowly nodding. It was always a fantastic moment when someone's mind was changed, exuding skepticism until something clicked and she couldn't help but register that kind of moment happening in Eliza's eyes. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I've never been much of a palm reader so if you want some part of your future read, you'll have to come to my shop and get a proper reading. I'll even give you a discount if you want because, honestly, I'm pretty curious myself."

— A FRENCHED NAIL RHYTHMICALLY tapped against the bar top while the other strummed on. she swerved between listening curiously and losing herself in aimless thoughts, a terrible trait she'd always had. eliza had a flighty attention span and, unless it was something that was of deep interest to her, it was always a struggle to stay engaged. however, this talk of crystals and spirituality struck a chord of familiarity, compelling liza to dive into her memories and discern why.

" so what i'm hearing is : i'm destined for success. each pearl strung around my neck is just another stepping stone to fame . . . " her comment was mostly in good fun, but there was that hint of hope sparkling in her eyes. unwinding the coil of hair from 'round her finger and tossing it over her shoulder, she leaned in closer, curiosity finally piqued. any version of 'you're bound for greatness, it's written in the stars' was all she needed to hear ( or, in this case, interpret ) to finally focus her full attention on the raven-haired woman. " you're really into all this stuff, aren't you ? can you, like, see the future ? or read palms ? " before the familiar face ( she still couldn't quite place how she knew her ) could reply, eliza had already stuck her hand out, fingers wiggling expectantly. " will i be famous ? or at least, you know, decently successful ? am i gonna get married ? oh, oh ! can you see who i'm going to marry ? it better not be . . . ha, nevermind. it'd never be him. oh, check to see when i die, too ! i need to make sure i fit my bucket list in, first. "

[havntedhouses]

Maeve had always had a complex, not in a negative way, feeling towards Eliza Marquis, the woman she had felt like she was dating at the same time she dated Thomas, if only because of how many times he brought her up. She didn't hold it against her, not in the least, and in the short time she'd interacted with her, she seemed perfectly pleasant to be around. All that to say, Maeve still didn't really know her. "They definitely do and many people associate pearls with purity, innocence, and faith when talking about spirituality." Although Maeve often used the term spiritualism lightly, anything else often scared people and they were just starting to accept that as something not inherently evil. Plus, the idea of faith when it came to this town...Maeve had her doubts with anything related to the church. Mainly because she couldn't manage to get her mother away from it. "July? That's a great month and did you know that if you wear rubies and pearls together it's supposed to stimulate leadership qualities in the wearer helping climb the ladder of success - or, at least that's what they say." Maeve loved talking about this realm of the world, the spirits, the magic, the wonder but she also knew most of it being peddled these days was full of shit. It wasn't the real thing that she had grown up with, it was always too dangerous for that, but it was still entertaining.

— A BASKET OF FRIES painted in red sat untouched on the worn bar top. 'a gift from me to you, kiddo. welcome back 'n all.' scooter had mumbled after throwing the unwanted food in front of her. he'd scurried off through the kitchen doors before she could badger him about a short-term job— the hellcat's den was already heavy on her pride. too caught up in a mish-mash of scattered thoughts ( how many weeks would her savings last ? was the bartender aware of how her hair looked from the back ? would it be poor taste to bum a cig off that same bartender ? why had scooter drowned her fries in a bloodbath of heinz ? ), she'd hardly noticed the chattering woman at first. finally tuning in to the excited one-man exchange, eliza tilted her head and batted thick lashes in feigned interest. " umm, like swarovski ? " her nose wrinkled in confusion, manicured nails twisting and twirling her cinnamon coils. in every other alternate universe, eliza likely ignored the stranger or rolled her eyes, or even scooted her barstool as far left as it went. in this one, though, she found the stranger's excitement somewhat endearing. besides, the evening had been awfully boring. what harm was there in indulging little miss chatterbox's fanaticism with rocks ? she allowed her cherry-glossed lips to curl up into a half-interested smile before humming : " i've never been much of a crystal girl. ruby's are fine— they aaare my birthstone— but my favorite's most definitely pearls. they go with everything, don't you think ? "