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Marcus Flint ([info]marcedflint) wrote in [info]finnigans_rpg,
Marcus rolled his eyes at Roger's insistence, amused all over again as he said, "Whatever you say." It was nice to think that the younger man thought he was handsome, if nothing else.

Although he didn't understand about half of the response he received, he was glad he could parse out an answer to the question he'd attempted to ask, at least. A whisper of the paranoia that had probably kept him alive a few years ago wanted to object to how dangerous it could be to accept food from just anyone, the way Roger was implying, but he recognized the instinct as one that wasn't applicable to the current situation, so he didn't voice that thought. "I'd be amazed if you could eat enough to be thirty stone with training the way it is," he said instead.

Marcus looked up just in time to see Roger's head go down, and after a moment he said quietly, "You don't have to thank me." The concept was ridiculous, actually, because where else would he be when Roger was hurt now because of him?

With a small nod of thanks, he managed to find the cutting board as directed, steering clear of everything that was unfamiliar - like the strange glass cylinder with tiny knife blades in the bottom and the bulky box on the counter with an array of buttons along one side - before going to wash his hands in the sink, the ends of his sleeves rolled up just past his wrists, though not any higher. After their conversation about tattoos the other day, Marcus didn't think that Roger would have any sort of issues if he did accidentally expose the Mark, but years of hiding it unless he was alone was a difficult habit to break.

He was beginning to realize just how true Roger's statement earlier about not having a filter really was, and he had to close his eyes for a moment against the sight of the younger man saying the word 'pornographic', though of corse that didn't help him from hearing it echo inside his mind long after the sentence was over. Thank Salazar he hadn't been holding the knife just yet, because chances were he would have sliced his own finger off, what with how distracted he was apparently able to be with just a single word.

Moving to start peeling potatoes, Marcus forced himself to focus once more, and then managed to answer, "Sure. Blackbeard was a pirate, right?"


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