Sometimes, life is cruel.

Lincoln understands this— he’s lived it, a bit, although he doesn’t particularly see the Court as his personal perpetrator— and Gotham is a place where cruelty thrives. It feeds on the pettiness of others, on the terrible things that happen.

Which is why he’s not surprised that he’s caught a little thief.

Lincoln was walking down the streets of the more… low class parts of Gotham, minding his own business really (having a small ‘break’ from training recruits to search for more, because the Court is always losing Talons to the Bat and occasionally the League of Assassins), when he felt a small hand slip into his pants pocket.

A street rat.

A street rat who has apparently figured they could steal from Lincoln.

The man in question lights up. It’s his lucky day, to be certain. A potential new recruit coming up to him and literally sticking their hand in his pocket? How could he ask for more.

He has to play his cards right, though, if he wants to do this.

Lure them into the Court’s Nest.

He whips out his hand in a flash, firmly gripping the kid’s shoulder. Plastering a friendly smile on his face.

His eyes don’t look it.

“Hey, now,” Lincoln chuckles good-naturedly, squeezing their shoulder just a little bit, “What’re you doing here, buddy?”