Admittedly, the basement doesn't look like a serial killer's lair. Any mysterious dried bloodstains soaked into the floorboards are covered up with lush rugs, the place artfully and eclectically decorated. It looks cozy, if a mysterious basement full of poisons can be called that, and Finch begins to drift around to do his professional business of snooping. He nods as Mateo gives him permission to snoop (at least, that's how he took it) and begins examining the aforementioned greenery. Some of the plants he recognizes, some he doesn't, and regardless, he decides it may be wisest to keep his thieving hands squarely to himself this time around. It would be a terribly annoying (though karmically fitting) to touch something he's not supposed to and keep over from some mysterious and painfully poisonous thing.
"I dunno. You tell me," Finch says, laughing at the sense of utter incredulity in the botanist's words. "You meet me, a stranger, at a bar, we discuss deadly plants and you lead me back to a basement full of aforementioned deadly plants?" He runs his hands over the cool glass of a terrarium, careful not to leave any fingerprints behind. "If you weren't so charming, I might have run."
He drifts back over to Mateo, already-silent footsteps muffled further by the rugs, and levels his glinting gaze at the man who lured him here. "Well. You bought me and drink and brought me home. What's next?" The curve of his crooked mouth spiders upwards, a sly cat's grin.
"I dunno. You tell me," Finch says, laughing at the sense of utter incredulity in the botanist's words. "You meet me, a stranger, at a bar, we discuss deadly plants and you lead me back to a basement full of aforementioned deadly plants?" He runs his hands over the cool glass of a terrarium, careful not to leave any fingerprints behind. "If you weren't so charming, I might have run."
He drifts back over to Mateo, already-silent footsteps muffled further by the rugs, and levels his glinting gaze at the man who lured him here. "Well. You bought me and drink and brought me home. What's next?" The curve of his crooked mouth spiders upwards, a sly cat's grin.
