Francis doesn't look any more thrilled than Lester. He's tall, scruffy blonde hair, and a seeming fondness for the color purple. A bit on the lanky side, but with shoulders that came with using a bow from the time he was old enough to figure which way the arrow went. He cocks his head at the man's words, a slight curl of his lips, though it thins with the announcement of what's expected of them. "Yeah well, killing people doesn't make you special."

Not as if Francis could ever keep his mouth shut, and especially not here, when something about the guy just rubs him the wrong way. On the upside, this guy isn't someone he's got a whole lotta qualms about cutting sins into, though he's a little less thrilled about the concept of the inverse.

Not that he regrets any of his supposed sins; he'd been fighting to survive. It was what it was. But letting this guy carve something into his skin? That's a lot less appealing. He picks up the knife, flipping it in his fingers.

"Well, this is new. Not sure I'm a fan."