Finch swipes at the dirt on his cheek with a defeated sigh -- they really got his ass with that trump-card observation -- and knows that the jig grows closer and closer to being up with every new interesting lie he concocts. How could he even blame the two troublemakers for thinking they're invincible? If their tall tales are true, and though Finch truly doesn't want to believe them, he's good enough at spotting liars to know children's bluffs don't come in this flavor, it makes sense they think they'd be invincible. If they popped out of the garden so fully-formed (and with the ability to read? Unclear), his lies about needing to be born with particular sneaky skills seems less like an mischievous adult's lie to keep them out of danger and more like a correct reality they could conceivably conform to. Fuck.
Their eyes are twin beacons of curiosity, shining upon him with curiosity and eagerness and skepticism, and Finch senses he has made a grave mistake in imparting this little piece of knowledge unto them. What were the odds that they would skitter on down to the Fingers just to prove the older thief wrong? And subsequently, what were the chances Finch would be proven correct and he would have two very angry fathers breathing down his neck once they realized their two plant-babies were lost in the mazes of the Fingers?
He ran wet fingers through wet hair, clearing the sopping curls out of his eyes. This is why no one should trust him around their young, impressionable children. "You guys are probably gonna find your way into the Fingers, huh," He groaned. It wasn't a question. It was an inevitability, he was realizing. "Probably just because I said you shouldn't. And, I must reiterate: you really, really shouldn't. It's not interesting down there. Just wet and slimy."
Their eyes are twin beacons of curiosity, shining upon him with curiosity and eagerness and skepticism, and Finch senses he has made a grave mistake in imparting this little piece of knowledge unto them. What were the odds that they would skitter on down to the Fingers just to prove the older thief wrong? And subsequently, what were the chances Finch would be proven correct and he would have two very angry fathers breathing down his neck once they realized their two plant-babies were lost in the mazes of the Fingers?
He ran wet fingers through wet hair, clearing the sopping curls out of his eyes. This is why no one should trust him around their young, impressionable children. "You guys are probably gonna find your way into the Fingers, huh," He groaned. It wasn't a question. It was an inevitability, he was realizing. "Probably just because I said you shouldn't. And, I must reiterate: you really, really shouldn't. It's not interesting down there. Just wet and slimy."
