[He's eaten at least one hybrid, either accidentally (there is little discrimination to be made when hunger hits you) or because they attacked him first. They're bound to be his family, there isn't really any way around it, but it's not something he really thinks about.]
[ She straightens, her eyes (up until this point girlish and bemused) suddenly finding a sharpness — not quite animal but not quite innocent. A presence that comes with declaring her own name (it's a source of shame and strength in her world; you do not fuck with a Saint or they'll buy up your debt just so that they can eat you). ]
Philomela. [ The highest houses have rules as to what they can name their children. She doesn't need to say 'Saint'. Theirs is the only family allowed a Philomela. (They cut out of her tongue and cut off her hands. Mother thought she was being clever; she thought I'd never survive.) ]
Philomela. [He nods for briefly, brows pinched at the mention of the mother in the girl's thoughts. It keeps him quiet for a while longer, wondering - otherwise the name doesn't produce any signs of recognition in his eyes.] I'm Bass.
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[But what do you know, Bass...]
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Talking just makes some people stranger.
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Losing interest is a bad idea. Getting used to it— [ She shrugs. The jury's still out on that option. (She likes the third option better.) ]
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What's the third option?
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You make them go away.
[ (And eat them.) ]
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Your name.
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Philomela. [ The highest houses have rules as to what they can name their children. She doesn't need to say 'Saint'. Theirs is the only family allowed a Philomela. (They cut out of her tongue and cut off her hands. Mother thought she was being clever; she thought I'd never survive.) ]
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