[The handshake does help, and as she attempts to stay steady on her feet, her hand squeezes his slightly. She can feel the metal sort of, harder and less forgiving than bone, but it doesn't put her off in the least.

Half-watching him, half-watching where they walk, she listens to him explain his name, or names even, with interest.]

Well in that case I ought to call you Thomas since that's the name you like.

[And Cathy is all about the things that people choose rather than enduring things they were given. After all, she'd done a little choosing herself, picking the Nightside over living a sane, boring life in London proper.]

Is everyone like you back home? Patchwork and metal, that is?

[It seems a sly sort of way of asking "By the way, what are you?"]