The world was such a loud place. A loud and ugly place full of loud and ugly people. Maeve found solace in the silence, on the rare occasion that things were ever silent. There was serenity in the mundane. There was refuge in the silence.She didn't always like to read, but when she did it was always scary stories. 

As she read, she held her book up with one hand and played with one of her knives in the other. She liked knives.They were shiny and sharp. They were so much more personal than other weapons. You could kill someone with magic, sure, but where was the fun in that? 

The knives she used were balisong knives and she always had at least two on her person at all times. Sometimes she had more than two. In here entire collection she had at least two dozen. The smallest could fit entirely in the palm of her hand and the biggest was more of a short sword than a knife. It was still a balisong, though. She was committed to the aesthetic. 

Maeve had to pause for a moment. She stopped twirling the knife around and flipped it closed, the handle deviding into two parts and encasing the razor sharp blade. She reread the line once more, just to be sure she'd read it right, and she had. 'That was an act of pure human fuckery' the book said, and Maeve started to laugh. She'd never heard the work fuckery before. "Fuckery", she wheezed through her laughter, which only made her laugh all the harder.