"Maeve," she answers, casting a sidelong glance at Alex. She doesn't exactly look like riffraff, not by Maeve's standards, but her clothes are cool and she gives off a kind of vibe that Maeve figures means she's legit when it comes to finding the right place for a thrift shop.

"I like your glasses," she offers. "Your whole look, really. Better than the shit they gave me at the Home to try and deal with until I can get my own clothes."

She has her boots and her jacket and all her jewelry. At least she hadn't arrived without any of her armour.