[ Robby can do bravado. You need it if you're dealing with people who can kick your ass, putting on an act to charm people, to worm your fingers around belongings, you need it. Pretend you belong where you are, in the clothes you've put on.

And he gave up on that life, why should he be shamed for it?

...it's easier to deal with anyway, than the part that Mob actually addresses, where there's a shame from the moment he speaks, 'I don't look up to you because of lies.' He does look over at Mob, but he can't hold any gaze, looking back at the concrete under their feet. Someone might find it bizarre for a guy to care about this than the whole lying and stealing history.

But it does make him feel good. It makes him feel useful, enough that he can disregard if he's the guy who should be helping out some multi-talented psychic guy in a city with other multi-talented people. ]

I don't like it just for myself. [ Robby stops as he says that, turning to face Mob, his eyes coming onto him after a reluctant second. ] I like thinking it helps you too, and seeing you sound happy about what we do. In your own way.

[ His own small way. ]

Maybe helping you is helping me too, but--I never said I was perfect.

[ Which isn't what he's embarrassed about for the second he looks away, but Robby lifts his gaze back. ]

We're both trying.

[ To be better versions of themselves. ]