Despite himself, an amused (albeit confused) smile grows on Finch's face as the two brothers squawk and prattle, talking over each other and weaving their sentences together in and out until he feels like he's talking to two halves of one chaotic entity rather than two individual little boys. His eyebrows slowly creep up his forehead as the twins speak of being grown(?), and thieving since they learned how to walk, which would have been normal except one of them said that merely a few weeks ago. They speak with the unfettered confidence of a child believing they're telling the absolute truth, so either there's people whispering in their ears lying about how babies are made, or these two little boys are significantly more bizarre than he initially thought.
He carefully ignores Carlo's swerve into a clear pseudonym halfway through his introduction. In his line of work, no one used their real name with a stranger -- and perhaps these two weren't as clueless as he'd thought if they already had figured that out. "Finch," He replies, clasping his hand formally into Carlo's and shaking, his grip firm and professional, dodging the use of his own last name. There were more than a few wanted posted with his name on them throughout the city and the less these two little thieves got sucked into his disaster of a life, the better chance they had to escape childhood unscathed. He turned and shook Calan's hand as well, keeping the solemn air of formality.
"And yeah, you huck it out over your shoulder before the con begins. Otherwise you'll have orange peel in your mouth the whole time." He continued smoothly, as if the two never started prattling off about their strange backgrounds. He crossed his arms again and gave the two quick once-overs, catching their airs of confidence that only nine-year-olds could have in themselves. "You learned how to walk a few weeks ago?" He asked slowly, trying to make sense of their overlapping phrases. "And... You were grown? That's now how babies are made, kid," he said with a cheeky grin, more than ready to come up with some other preposterous lie about how babies are made. "Why in the Gods' names are you stealing from people on the street?" Never mind he was doing it at their age. And his current age. That was different. His careful hands ghost down to his pocket, checking his belongings once more, ensuring these little sneaks hadn't pilfered him while he was making his introdictions.
He carefully ignores Carlo's swerve into a clear pseudonym halfway through his introduction. In his line of work, no one used their real name with a stranger -- and perhaps these two weren't as clueless as he'd thought if they already had figured that out. "Finch," He replies, clasping his hand formally into Carlo's and shaking, his grip firm and professional, dodging the use of his own last name. There were more than a few wanted posted with his name on them throughout the city and the less these two little thieves got sucked into his disaster of a life, the better chance they had to escape childhood unscathed. He turned and shook Calan's hand as well, keeping the solemn air of formality.
"And yeah, you huck it out over your shoulder before the con begins. Otherwise you'll have orange peel in your mouth the whole time." He continued smoothly, as if the two never started prattling off about their strange backgrounds. He crossed his arms again and gave the two quick once-overs, catching their airs of confidence that only nine-year-olds could have in themselves. "You learned how to walk a few weeks ago?" He asked slowly, trying to make sense of their overlapping phrases. "And... You were grown? That's now how babies are made, kid," he said with a cheeky grin, more than ready to come up with some other preposterous lie about how babies are made. "Why in the Gods' names are you stealing from people on the street?" Never mind he was doing it at their age. And his current age. That was different. His careful hands ghost down to his pocket, checking his belongings once more, ensuring these little sneaks hadn't pilfered him while he was making his introdictions.
