Watching Sanji at work, even from his limited view, really does give Mark the chance to see the changes in him over the course of a year. The care for food, meticulousness in preparing it, the easy friendship despite any gruffer demeanour — all of that remains, stays obvious to him. But the health benefits involved, really looking at the way his body moves now (respectfully)...
There's little different about Mark, who really has just been coasting along on natural gifts (for however much he has to learn to control them and himself both now). He's just kind of. The same, which at least keeps the earnest friendliness intact, too. ]
Health benefits... [ Listen, flavour is one thing, but pretty much everything he's had that Sanji has made has been incredible. He doesn't doubt that this will be too, secret recipe or not. He leans forward a little. ] Like... they'll keep you full, give you greater endurance, more energy? Keep you from getting sick, that kind of thing?
[ Recipes being guarded by people sounded kind of silly to him at first — be like Sanji! Share food! — but thinking about the other secrets they may hold... Okay, he can maybe get why Sanji has to work so hard for them now. ]
Any dish that takes nutrition into account can manage all those things. [For all the snacks he whipped up for the ladies back at the house, Sanji did calculate the nutritional values of the meals he prepared for everyone on the show. He's never been sick a day in his life, though, so he can't promise anything on that front; at least he knows how to soothe an ill body with the correct dishes.] But something like that. Those recipes strengthen the body of the person who tries them. I could actually feel power coursing through me after a single meal, but it's supposed to show through physique, too.
[Imagine if he fed these recipes to Nami and Robin and Asa and Anna and Ritsuka and Dorothea and Kat and Wednesday—oh, his face is straining against a wobbly smile! No, no. He presses his lips thin. Focus on the ducks. Mark needs food. Cooking is love, and Sanji's heart will not be sidetracked.]
[ A little tilt to his head, since it kind of seemed like Sanji's mind went elsewhere for a second there, but Mark isn't going to question it. Especially when he's not exactly well-versed in food prep, which is where he assumes Sanji's mind still is.
Rather, he's going to turn his focus back to recipes that strengthen the body. (A mental note — oh, maybe that explains Sanji's physique nowadays. Okay, that makes sense.) That he could feel power coursing through him...
Mark worries at his lip a little before answering. ]
That sounds like it'll be good for your crew... I mean, it'll be good for all of your friends, right? So that's pretty cool.
[ Though there isn't exactly a lot of enthusiasm in his voice. On one level, Mark knows he actually does need to get stronger, but while he's here, effectively on a kind of vacation, after what he's come from... he kind of doesn't want to.
So he's definitely hoping for some nice, normal duck. ]
Sanji plucks the last of the feathers, sets the ducks down on a small slab of stone, and moves on to preparing the seasoning with the native herbs and some rocks. This meat is going to have flavor.]
Yeah.
[It's the coolest thing, really. Not only will it enhance their looks, it'll also keep them safer by making them stronger. There's nothing more torturous than the crushing weight of helplessness . . . though strength probably isn't a concern in Mark's case (except for when it is).]
But for you, what's important is that you don't get lost on an empty stomach.
[As such, Mark is getting some kind of duck, because most (if not all) the animals of this nation sport luscious locks and the occasional stubbles for reasons. All of that's gone now. It's just meat here; granted, it isn't much, but surely Mark's sense of direction isn't as awful as Zoro's.]
[ A moment after Sanji sets the ducks down Mark gets up, figuring he can at least, like. Look at them. Get a better view of what Sanji is doing with the herbs and rocks too, because he's never really roughed it before, but it also feels kind of... respectful? To see the ducks like this, on their way to becoming food.
He looks back up at the notion of getting lost on an empty stomach, and that does a good job of snapping him out of any melancholy he might've been feeling.
You don't have to do this for me is on the tip of his tongue, but he catches himself. Knows better than to actually say that out loud, taking one lesson to heart from way back when Sanji had essentially begged him to think about himself too, after what his dad did. (Also the part where food is important to Sanji. It's two reasons to not try to brush this off.)
Instead, ] I appreciate that. Really. [ Soft smile. ] I know I'll find my way eventually, but it'll be a lot easier on a full stomach, so, thank you.
[ Pause, looking back to the ducks. This really is the closest he's ever come to hunting... ]
When's the first time you worked with food like this? Like... out in the open, everything coming directly from nature.
[ He knows Sanji had started working with food young, but picking up ingredients from the grocery store(? If that's how Sanji had started? Mark really can't imagine it happening any other way) and being out on an island like this feels like they're worlds apart. ]
[Earnest as always. While Sanji focuses on what his hands are doing, he glimpses Mark in his periphery and glances over to catch the latter's smile. Definitely earnest. Even after everything he's had to go through, Mark hasn't forgotten the power of gratitude.]
If you're talking food, I've been fishing since I was a kid. The Sunny also has an aquarium on board for the crew to throw their catches inside in order to keep them fresh. The only difference now is that I had ready access to a kitchen back then.
[This time around, he started with a single pocket knife and a heavy scoop of resolve after finding the kitchens heavily guarded in anticipation of his arrival. In a way, fending for himself from the ground up has been very helpful.]
You never know when you'll find yourself stranded somewhere without food at sea. [It's debatable how much of a problem this would pose for Mark, but the sentiment very much remains for Sanji, who grinds away at the herbs.] We're lucky this island is as bountiful as it is.
[ He falls quiet, thinking, gaze zeroing in on the herbs. ]
That's a good idea. The aquarium on board, I mean... [ He doesn't sound entirely present, though, like that isn't what he's actually thinking about. Like he's on autopilot.
Mark stays silent a moment longer, watching Sanji prep. ]
... Yeah, this island seems really good. I mean, I—
The place I was, when I killed that guy. [ Soft exhale. He did do that. That is a thing that he did. ] It wasn't anything like this. The guy could jump between dimensions, and he brought me to one that was like... dead? I don't know how else to describe it, all there was was sand and like, the remnants of buildings. Nothing else. So I get that. About being stranded.
[ He's just going to. Sit down now, actually. Right on the ground, spoon block still in his hands. ]
I wasn't there long enough to be starving or anything, but, [ weak smile he does not entirely feel, ] I guess you don't know what you've got until it's gone, huh?
[Studying the result between the rocks, he nods to himself and deftly slices the duck next, the meat of which he soon has cooking over the fire. Then he looks at Mark, whose attempt at a smile he doesn't return, with an appraising gaze.
Sanji imagines it: Mark, standing over a battered corpse in the middle of nowhere, hands stained irrevocably with blood and restless from the remnants of adrenaline. No glory or relief, just guilt and horror in deafening silence. It would take somewhere as far as another dimension to strand someone like him. A part of him is probably still back there. In another life, Sanji might have been in a similar position—only, he wouldn't have been so scrupulous or kind, deranged as he'd been.]
Most people only learn the true value of something once they've lost it. Food, people, even freedom and sanity . . . There's a lot we take for granted. Once we realize that, everything feels different.
[One learns to be grateful. At the same time, that's when the shame starts to weigh on one's shoulders. Sanji holds a hand out, eyes falling on the block in Mark's grasp and then back up to the latter's face. Seeing Mark like this, that weight will never alleviate in full . . . but Sanji can at least make sure he's fed and strong enough to stand just a little straighter.]
[ Sometimes, when he shuts his eyes, it really is nothing more than a desolate wasteland and blood on his hands. He's wondering when that's going to go away, but... everything feels different. There are things now that he's hyper aware of — what it feels like to have something staining your skin, the deafening sound of silence with only his own voice and maybe the wind to break it, the weight of another's life on his shoulders—
He catches the movement of Sanji's hand in his periphery vision. Looks back up. Takes it, assuming it's for him, to stand back up, block still in his other hand. ]
... Yeah. Shit, I shouldn't even— I mean, freedom—
[ Mark doesn't know what it is to lose that. Does know what it is for Sanji to have it, and he feels really selfish for a second there. There really is only so much he can impose...
He inhales, taking in the scent of duck cooking, normal and good. Maybe he's not used to it out in the wilderness like this, but it's the principle of the matter — real food being prepared by a close friend. ]
I guess on the bright side, it lets you appreciate it more when you've got it back. [ When, not if. Because Mark got out of a dead wasteland, got the comforts of life back. His innocence and sense of right and wrong may be shattered, but he can pick up the pieces, so it'll be fine. It'll be fine. He nods at Sanji, a little too forceful of a movement to be directed solely at him. ] I mean... I'm never going to forget this.
[ The scent, the kindness behind creating it, the friendship behind that... He'll cling to it with all he has if he has to.
A beat. ]
Anything I can do to help?
[ Even if he caught the food... the urge to do something, to not be useless, is creeping back in again. It's a lot easier to be inside your own head when you also have other things to look at. ]
[His lips part as he squints at Mark's misunderstanding of his gesture. The guy is seriously tactile. What's more, Sanji has the sneaking suspicion that Mark has also misconstrued what he meant by freedom, because it's not something purely physical. The freedom of expression—to allow one to be oneself, to feel without restraint and fear—is equally important.
Sanji is lucky. He's more than likely contributed to his share of irreversible damage against his foes, but he's yet to cross the line of his principles. Mark's lost that innocence, and he can cope with it . . . but that's never going to come back. Some horrors will never go away. At least he's got the right idea of hanging onto the good.
For Mark's sake, Sanji stands up, making use of their joined hands without the awkwardness of just dropping them. He does pull back afterward to extend that same hand again, palm upturned as he gives it a languid shake, his expression tame and casual.]
For starters, you can hand me that block, so I can finish carving out a spoon. We may be outside, but it's bad manners to eat with your bare hands.
[ Mark doesn't get to be free of restraint. He knows this all too well now. Freedom is... being able to go up into the sky, drift among the clouds, experience something limitless; it's being able to do what you want, with no external forces holding you back. No bars, no cages. Just you.
(He needs to learn to hold himself back, no matter what. He can't go there again.)
Mark smiles, small and grateful, at that languid shake. It's all good. He'll be good— ]
Oh.
[ He's an idiot. Small laugh, as he relinquishes the block to Sanji's far more capable hands. Right. Right, ]
[Sanji easily takes the block and, just to make things a little less awkward for Mark, goes back to whittling away at the wood while standing. He'll sit down in a minute.]
Not this particular dish. Just because there's a stream we can wash our hands nearby, doesn't mean we have to be brutes.
[His tone is casual. A reasonable, civilized person would eat with utensils; sometimes, it's as simple as that.]
[ Brutes... for eating with their hands... much to think about. Especially since utensils definitely were not on his mind before. Maybe they would be if he'd been out here as long as Sanji...
He could ask about that, sitting back down when he does. Or, ]
What about a spork? I don't know if that'd be any better, or easier to carve, or... whatever, but maybe it would help, even if the prongs aren't that much?
[He cants his head to the side, appraising the spoon that's slowly taking shape in his grasp.]
It'll take a little longer, but we can give it a shot. [He shoots Mark a sidelong glance.] Not bad.
[At least he can trust Mark not to choke from shoveling food down his throat with his bare hands. That's a small mercy he always appreciates in people.]
[ Hey, when you have big feelings but at the moment they're fragile, raw, and unmoored, a little goes a long way. He'll take every little bit he can get and hold onto it, tight.
Sanji's answer does earn a blink, though. A curious little tilt of his head, but no movement otherwise. It's just nice to be with good company. ]
My mom'd like you. [ It just slides out, his smile relaxing. Really, most of the people on the show she'd probably like, or at least tolerate, but Sanji would be way up there on her list, he's pretty sure. ] I mean, it's not like I don't have table manners, but... yeah, if I'm lazy enough, I'd just use my hands.
[ And being stranded on an island feels like a good time to be lazy in at least that particular avenue of life? Sanji's so much more put together. So proper. Debbie wouldn't even bat an eye at the whole pirate thing. ]
[He gives Mark a look, because admitting to brutish convenience is a betrayal within the context of this topic. It's nothing so serious, though, and he pulls back to carve out the spork some more.
Most people don't know the character it demonstrates to like a pirate openly. Pirates have a sour reputation for a reason, but they're often demonized and accused of crimes that aren't theirs. For a public figure, it's also best not to be associated with them. Sanji never doubted the character of Mark's mother, but the certainty with which Mark speaks of her says so much more than he probably realizes.]
Don't embarrass your mom. [This is said in jest, but also:] If I catch you using your hands on anything that isn't finger food here, you're getting it.
[He can put up with friends being guys, but if it makes a fool out of Mark's sweet mother? No.]
Okay, okay! No hands, I promise. [ His grin is easy, in a good mood, relaxing into the moment. Everything's alright here. Things are good right now. ] That especially goes for when I'm at the Baratie. I won't embarrass her, but I'm not gonna embarrass you either.
[ Especially since his mom isn't here to suffer any embarrassment. Sanji, on the other hand... and when he'll be aboard a restaurant, at that...
Although he'll probably end up finding some other way to inadvertently embarrass Sanji, but at least it shouldn't be food-related. Probably. ]
Don't worry about the restaurant. If anyone's an embarrassment, it's those guys.
[Patty, most of all. Little does Sanji know, his hideous wanted poster is plastered all over the walls of the Baratie. If it's between Mark and the cooks at the restaurant, however, there's no contest as to who the bigger clowns are.]
The only rule there is that nobody goes hungry. The cooks get into fights with pirates often enough that all the waiters jumped ship at one point, but everyone gets to eat. Don't kick anybody out, and you won't have trouble with the owner.
[This seems worth pointing out, because Mark is a conscientious guy who might find it difficult to sit back when there's a scuffle. Best to nip the potential crisis over restraining himself versus protecting someone before it can have the chance to form. The cooks can and have been taking care of the establishment for years now.]
[ Mark might even feel obliged to take down the wanted posters whenever he sees them. Something will click in his brain and he'll understand that first meeting of theirs.
In the meantime, though, he pauses. ]
So... don't do anything stupid. [ Like capitalize on his need to play the hero, which even he isn't entirely sure about these days. Mark stares at his boots for a second. Back up at Sanji. ] Got it.
[He'll take them down, only for new ones to crop up in within the hour. Sanji's restaurant family is nothing if not dedicated.
In any case, warning Mark ahead of time seems to have been the right choice. Still, isn't he being a little too hard on himself? Sanji's gaze lingers on him for a moment before he finishes up the spork by carving in the tines.]
If anything, you'll be helping those guys out. Don't be afraid to let Patty know when his food tastes like slop.
[It's really not that bad. In fact, Patty is a great patissier; he and Sanji have long traded insults, however, and that's not going to change anytime soon on either end. It's also a fact that Zeff, the owner, is by far the best chef on the ship, as well as the progenitor of most of Sanji's cooking techniques, so his dishes will be more familiar and luxurious.
The Baratie hosts a rowdy bunch of society's misfits, but they mean well. Mark will be in good hands, or Sanji will give them a thrashing upon his return.
Finally finished, Sanji holds out the spork to Mark. It's a touch crude, yet serviceable. As soon as that's out of his hands, he leans forward to fetch the cooked meat from the makeshift grill, which he deftly plates with some greens he'd foraged earlier on slab of stone that he then sets down in front of them.]
[ Then he'll take the new ones down too?? Eventually he'll probably give up by TBD how long that takes...
Food tasting like slop, though... Mark opens his mouth like he's about to protest, he wouldn't just? Say that?? But then here's a spork, made far better than he could ever manage, and then there's duck, also plated far better than he ever could. Let alone the fact that they're on an island, with none of the familiar comforts of modernity, and Mark's just gotta stare for a minute.
Inhale, and oh, god. ]
It smells amazing. [ Piercing a slice to rip it away from the rest and popping it in his mouth, and Mark tips his head back, shutting his eyes as he makes a blissed out little noise. For a moment, all of his problems can fall away. Being a murderer, being in a world he doesn't know, having to leave his friend behind for a time while here... none of it matters in the present moment.
Chews. Swallows. Looks back to Sanji, grinning wide. ] God. This is so... good.
[ Understatement? He's going for another piece already. ]
Momorio duck tag... [ mispronounces the first, already forgot how the rest of the last word went. Either way. ] Is this one of the recipes you learned here?
[Mark can just say that. He's allowed—just as he's given a pass for the mispronunciation, because this is a cursed island to Sanji, who uses leftover slivers of the wood as a pair of makeshift chopsticks to help himself to the meat, for so many reasons.]
Nah, it's something I made early on in the challenge. I hadn't eaten in a day, and the kitchen was guarded . . . so I experimented with what was around me.
[Imagining that he was making food for Asa gave him the second wind he needed to overcome hunger and fatigue. If nothing else, his imagination (read: delusion) is his most powerful weapon. Mark's expression, on the other hand, is a very real balm to Sanji's soul as he grins around his morsel.]
Come to think of it, I also made zeppoline and acqua pazza with the duck fat back then. I didn't prepare them this time, because we're in a hurry, but I can ready a full course meal when you're back. It's important to eat a balanced meal that's rich in nutrients.
You hadn't eaten in a day... a full course meal... You're amazing, you know that?
[ He's taking in everything Sanji is saying bit by bit, letting the meaning of his words actually pierce his brain amid each flavourful bite. As soon as he says it Mark is pretty sure he's complimented Sanji in that fashion before, but why not really drive the point home? Especially when Sanji is smiling like that. ]
Yeah, I can see how this would be better than just eating a bunch of candy and calling it a day. [ This Mark has had an actual chance at maintaining university life before his current breakdown, he's almost certainly done this more than once.
He goes for another bite, but first, ] I'm sure I'll be fine while I'm here, but... mmmm.
[ Give him a second again. ]
I know you cooked a lot for us back at the house, but I wish I could share this with even more people. [ His mom chief on his mind, of course; even if the whole Omni-Man thing has been largely smoothed over thanks to his wish, Mark still remembers a different version of her, like. Crying sometimes. The desire to do nice things for her isn't going to go away. ] Your crew is going to be in the best position when you're all done here.
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no subject
Watching Sanji at work, even from his limited view, really does give Mark the chance to see the changes in him over the course of a year. The care for food, meticulousness in preparing it, the easy friendship despite any gruffer demeanour — all of that remains, stays obvious to him. But the health benefits involved, really looking at the way his body moves now (respectfully)...
There's little different about Mark, who really has just been coasting along on natural gifts (for however much he has to learn to control them and himself both now). He's just kind of. The same, which at least keeps the earnest friendliness intact, too. ]
Health benefits... [ Listen, flavour is one thing, but pretty much everything he's had that Sanji has made has been incredible. He doesn't doubt that this will be too, secret recipe or not. He leans forward a little. ] Like... they'll keep you full, give you greater endurance, more energy? Keep you from getting sick, that kind of thing?
[ Recipes being guarded by people sounded kind of silly to him at first — be like Sanji! Share food! — but thinking about the other secrets they may hold... Okay, he can maybe get why Sanji has to work so hard for them now. ]
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[Imagine if he fed these recipes to Nami and Robin and Asa and Anna and Ritsuka and Dorothea and Kat and Wednesday—oh, his face is straining against a wobbly smile! No, no. He presses his lips thin. Focus on the ducks. Mark needs food. Cooking is love, and Sanji's heart will not be sidetracked.]
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Rather, he's going to turn his focus back to recipes that strengthen the body. (A mental note — oh, maybe that explains Sanji's physique nowadays. Okay, that makes sense.) That he could feel power coursing through him...
Mark worries at his lip a little before answering. ]
That sounds like it'll be good for your crew... I mean, it'll be good for all of your friends, right? So that's pretty cool.
[ Though there isn't exactly a lot of enthusiasm in his voice. On one level, Mark knows he actually does need to get stronger, but while he's here, effectively on a kind of vacation, after what he's come from... he kind of doesn't want to.
So he's definitely hoping for some nice, normal duck. ]
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Sanji plucks the last of the feathers, sets the ducks down on a small slab of stone, and moves on to preparing the seasoning with the native herbs and some rocks. This meat is going to have flavor.]
Yeah.
[It's the coolest thing, really. Not only will it enhance their looks, it'll also keep them safer by making them stronger. There's nothing more torturous than the crushing weight of helplessness . . . though strength probably isn't a concern in Mark's case (except for when it is).]
But for you, what's important is that you don't get lost on an empty stomach.
[As such, Mark is getting some kind of duck, because most (if not all) the animals of this nation sport luscious locks and the occasional stubbles for reasons. All of that's gone now. It's just meat here; granted, it isn't much, but surely Mark's sense of direction isn't as awful as Zoro's.]
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He looks back up at the notion of getting lost on an empty stomach, and that does a good job of snapping him out of any melancholy he might've been feeling.
You don't have to do this for me is on the tip of his tongue, but he catches himself. Knows better than to actually say that out loud, taking one lesson to heart from way back when Sanji had essentially begged him to think about himself too, after what his dad did. (Also the part where food is important to Sanji. It's two reasons to not try to brush this off.)
Instead, ] I appreciate that. Really. [ Soft smile. ] I know I'll find my way eventually, but it'll be a lot easier on a full stomach, so, thank you.
[ Pause, looking back to the ducks. This really is the closest he's ever come to hunting... ]
When's the first time you worked with food like this? Like... out in the open, everything coming directly from nature.
[ He knows Sanji had started working with food young, but picking up ingredients from the grocery store(? If that's how Sanji had started? Mark really can't imagine it happening any other way) and being out on an island like this feels like they're worlds apart. ]
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If you're talking food, I've been fishing since I was a kid. The Sunny also has an aquarium on board for the crew to throw their catches inside in order to keep them fresh. The only difference now is that I had ready access to a kitchen back then.
[This time around, he started with a single pocket knife and a heavy scoop of resolve after finding the kitchens heavily guarded in anticipation of his arrival. In a way, fending for himself from the ground up has been very helpful.]
You never know when you'll find yourself stranded somewhere without food at sea. [It's debatable how much of a problem this would pose for Mark, but the sentiment very much remains for Sanji, who grinds away at the herbs.] We're lucky this island is as bountiful as it is.
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That's a good idea. The aquarium on board, I mean... [ He doesn't sound entirely present, though, like that isn't what he's actually thinking about. Like he's on autopilot.
Mark stays silent a moment longer, watching Sanji prep. ]
... Yeah, this island seems really good. I mean, I—
The place I was, when I killed that guy. [ Soft exhale. He did do that. That is a thing that he did. ] It wasn't anything like this. The guy could jump between dimensions, and he brought me to one that was like... dead? I don't know how else to describe it, all there was was sand and like, the remnants of buildings. Nothing else. So I get that. About being stranded.
[ He's just going to. Sit down now, actually. Right on the ground, spoon block still in his hands. ]
I wasn't there long enough to be starving or anything, but, [ weak smile he does not entirely feel, ] I guess you don't know what you've got until it's gone, huh?
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Sanji imagines it: Mark, standing over a battered corpse in the middle of nowhere, hands stained irrevocably with blood and restless from the remnants of adrenaline. No glory or relief, just guilt and horror in deafening silence. It would take somewhere as far as another dimension to strand someone like him. A part of him is probably still back there. In another life, Sanji might have been in a similar position—only, he wouldn't have been so scrupulous or kind, deranged as he'd been.]
Most people only learn the true value of something once they've lost it. Food, people, even freedom and sanity . . . There's a lot we take for granted. Once we realize that, everything feels different.
[One learns to be grateful. At the same time, that's when the shame starts to weigh on one's shoulders. Sanji holds a hand out, eyes falling on the block in Mark's grasp and then back up to the latter's face. Seeing Mark like this, that weight will never alleviate in full . . . but Sanji can at least make sure he's fed and strong enough to stand just a little straighter.]
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He catches the movement of Sanji's hand in his periphery vision. Looks back up. Takes it, assuming it's for him, to stand back up, block still in his other hand. ]
... Yeah. Shit, I shouldn't even— I mean, freedom—
[ Mark doesn't know what it is to lose that. Does know what it is for Sanji to have it, and he feels really selfish for a second there. There really is only so much he can impose...
He inhales, taking in the scent of duck cooking, normal and good. Maybe he's not used to it out in the wilderness like this, but it's the principle of the matter — real food being prepared by a close friend. ]
I guess on the bright side, it lets you appreciate it more when you've got it back. [ When, not if. Because Mark got out of a dead wasteland, got the comforts of life back. His innocence and sense of right and wrong may be shattered, but he can pick up the pieces, so it'll be fine. It'll be fine. He nods at Sanji, a little too forceful of a movement to be directed solely at him. ] I mean... I'm never going to forget this.
[ The scent, the kindness behind creating it, the friendship behind that... He'll cling to it with all he has if he has to.
A beat. ]
Anything I can do to help?
[ Even if he caught the food... the urge to do something, to not be useless, is creeping back in again. It's a lot easier to be inside your own head when you also have other things to look at. ]
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Sanji is lucky. He's more than likely contributed to his share of irreversible damage against his foes, but he's yet to cross the line of his principles. Mark's lost that innocence, and he can cope with it . . . but that's never going to come back. Some horrors will never go away. At least he's got the right idea of hanging onto the good.
For Mark's sake, Sanji stands up, making use of their joined hands without the awkwardness of just dropping them. He does pull back afterward to extend that same hand again, palm upturned as he gives it a languid shake, his expression tame and casual.]
For starters, you can hand me that block, so I can finish carving out a spoon. We may be outside, but it's bad manners to eat with your bare hands.
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(He needs to learn to hold himself back, no matter what. He can't go there again.)
Mark smiles, small and grateful, at that languid shake. It's all good. He'll be good— ]
Oh.
[ He's an idiot. Small laugh, as he relinquishes the block to Sanji's far more capable hands. Right. Right, ]
Sorry about that. I... guess duck isn't exactly finger food, huh.
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Not this particular dish. Just because there's a stream we can wash our hands nearby, doesn't mean we have to be brutes.
[His tone is casual. A reasonable, civilized person would eat with utensils; sometimes, it's as simple as that.]
A spoon isn't ideal, but it'll get the job done.
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He could ask about that, sitting back down when he does. Or, ]
What about a spork? I don't know if that'd be any better, or easier to carve, or... whatever, but maybe it would help, even if the prongs aren't that much?
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It'll take a little longer, but we can give it a shot. [He shoots Mark a sidelong glance.] Not bad.
[At least he can trust Mark not to choke from shoveling food down his throat with his bare hands. That's a small mercy he always appreciates in people.]
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Longer isn't bad. It'll make them taste better when we get to dig in, right?
[ He leans back a little, resting on his hands. Okay, now he can ask. ]
Did you eat with your hands more when you first got here, or were you kind of always thinking about utensils?
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Of course I was!
[He ambles toward Mark and plops down on the ground beside him.]
I had table manners drilled into me as a kid. The only way I'd use my hands is if I were stranded on a rock.
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Sanji's answer does earn a blink, though. A curious little tilt of his head, but no movement otherwise. It's just nice to be with good company. ]
My mom'd like you. [ It just slides out, his smile relaxing. Really, most of the people on the show she'd probably like, or at least tolerate, but Sanji would be way up there on her list, he's pretty sure. ] I mean, it's not like I don't have table manners, but... yeah, if I'm lazy enough, I'd just use my hands.
[ And being stranded on an island feels like a good time to be lazy in at least that particular avenue of life? Sanji's so much more put together. So proper. Debbie wouldn't even bat an eye at the whole pirate thing. ]
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Most people don't know the character it demonstrates to like a pirate openly. Pirates have a sour reputation for a reason, but they're often demonized and accused of crimes that aren't theirs. For a public figure, it's also best not to be associated with them. Sanji never doubted the character of Mark's mother, but the certainty with which Mark speaks of her says so much more than he probably realizes.]
Don't embarrass your mom. [This is said in jest, but also:] If I catch you using your hands on anything that isn't finger food here, you're getting it.
[He can put up with friends being guys, but if it makes a fool out of Mark's sweet mother? No.]
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Okay, okay! No hands, I promise. [ His grin is easy, in a good mood, relaxing into the moment. Everything's alright here. Things are good right now. ] That especially goes for when I'm at the Baratie. I won't embarrass her, but I'm not gonna embarrass you either.
[ Especially since his mom isn't here to suffer any embarrassment. Sanji, on the other hand... and when he'll be aboard a restaurant, at that...
Although he'll probably end up finding some other way to inadvertently embarrass Sanji, but at least it shouldn't be food-related. Probably. ]
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[Patty, most of all. Little does Sanji know, his hideous wanted poster is plastered all over the walls of the Baratie. If it's between Mark and the cooks at the restaurant, however, there's no contest as to who the bigger clowns are.]
The only rule there is that nobody goes hungry. The cooks get into fights with pirates often enough that all the waiters jumped ship at one point, but everyone gets to eat. Don't kick anybody out, and you won't have trouble with the owner.
[This seems worth pointing out, because Mark is a conscientious guy who might find it difficult to sit back when there's a scuffle. Best to nip the potential crisis over restraining himself versus protecting someone before it can have the chance to form. The cooks can and have been taking care of the establishment for years now.]
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In the meantime, though, he pauses. ]
So... don't do anything stupid. [ Like capitalize on his need to play the hero, which even he isn't entirely sure about these days. Mark stares at his boots for a second. Back up at Sanji. ] Got it.
[ A beat. ]
Maybe being here will help me out after all...
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In any case, warning Mark ahead of time seems to have been the right choice. Still, isn't he being a little too hard on himself? Sanji's gaze lingers on him for a moment before he finishes up the spork by carving in the tines.]
If anything, you'll be helping those guys out. Don't be afraid to let Patty know when his food tastes like slop.
[It's really not that bad. In fact, Patty is a great patissier; he and Sanji have long traded insults, however, and that's not going to change anytime soon on either end. It's also a fact that Zeff, the owner, is by far the best chef on the ship, as well as the progenitor of most of Sanji's cooking techniques, so his dishes will be more familiar and luxurious.
The Baratie hosts a rowdy bunch of society's misfits, but they mean well. Mark will be in good hands, or Sanji will give them a thrashing upon his return.
Finally finished, Sanji holds out the spork to Mark. It's a touch crude, yet serviceable. As soon as that's out of his hands, he leans forward to fetch the cooked meat from the makeshift grill, which he deftly plates with some greens he'd foraged earlier on slab of stone that he then sets down in front of them.]
Here we go: Momoiro duck tagliata!
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Food tasting like slop, though... Mark opens his mouth like he's about to protest, he wouldn't just? Say that?? But then here's a spork, made far better than he could ever manage, and then there's duck, also plated far better than he ever could. Let alone the fact that they're on an island, with none of the familiar comforts of modernity, and Mark's just gotta stare for a minute.
Inhale, and oh, god. ]
It smells amazing. [ Piercing a slice to rip it away from the rest and popping it in his mouth, and Mark tips his head back, shutting his eyes as he makes a blissed out little noise. For a moment, all of his problems can fall away. Being a murderer, being in a world he doesn't know, having to leave his friend behind for a time while here... none of it matters in the present moment.
Chews. Swallows. Looks back to Sanji, grinning wide. ] God. This is so... good.
[ Understatement? He's going for another piece already. ]
Momorio duck tag... [ mispronounces the first, already forgot how the rest of the last word went. Either way. ] Is this one of the recipes you learned here?
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Nah, it's something I made early on in the challenge. I hadn't eaten in a day, and the kitchen was guarded . . . so I experimented with what was around me.
[Imagining that he was making food for Asa gave him the second wind he needed to overcome hunger and fatigue. If nothing else, his imagination (read: delusion) is his most powerful weapon. Mark's expression, on the other hand, is a very real balm to Sanji's soul as he grins around his morsel.]
Come to think of it, I also made zeppoline and acqua pazza with the duck fat back then. I didn't prepare them this time, because we're in a hurry, but I can ready a full course meal when you're back. It's important to eat a balanced meal that's rich in nutrients.
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[ He's taking in everything Sanji is saying bit by bit, letting the meaning of his words actually pierce his brain amid each flavourful bite. As soon as he says it Mark is pretty sure he's complimented Sanji in that fashion before, but why not really drive the point home? Especially when Sanji is smiling like that. ]
Yeah, I can see how this would be better than just eating a bunch of candy and calling it a day. [ This Mark has had an actual chance at maintaining university life before his current breakdown, he's almost certainly done this more than once.
He goes for another bite, but first, ] I'm sure I'll be fine while I'm here, but... mmmm.
[ Give him a second again. ]
I know you cooked a lot for us back at the house, but I wish I could share this with even more people. [ His mom chief on his mind, of course; even if the whole Omni-Man thing has been largely smoothed over thanks to his wish, Mark still remembers a different version of her, like. Crying sometimes. The desire to do nice things for her isn't going to go away. ] Your crew is going to be in the best position when you're all done here.
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