Connor's not bothering to stifle his grin at Hank's annoyance; he can be as mad as he wants - he's still put his drink down and taking the axe, so Connor wins in the end. (The fact that Hank has noticed what colour his eyes are totally escapes him - he's noticed Hank's as well, it doesn't seem like a big deal)
"I always succeed in my mission," he murmurs. Possibly the worst joke he could make, but he's so gleeful all of a sudden it just bursts out of him.
"OK, I was watching other humans do this and it looks like they find it easier with both hands." He shifts to face Hank, grabs his free wrist and plants his hand on the handle. The axe blade is close to his own chest this way, but Connor's not paying attention to it - even if he thought for a second Hank would do something, there's nothing he could do at this angle and distance. "Somebody mentioned it was like holding a baseball bat, so think of it that way."
Connor's never seen baseball, but Hank knows...sports. The general monolith of 'sports'.
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"I always succeed in my mission," he murmurs. Possibly the worst joke he could make, but he's so gleeful all of a sudden it just bursts out of him.
"OK, I was watching other humans do this and it looks like they find it easier with both hands." He shifts to face Hank, grabs his free wrist and plants his hand on the handle. The axe blade is close to his own chest this way, but Connor's not paying attention to it - even if he thought for a second Hank would do something, there's nothing he could do at this angle and distance. "Somebody mentioned it was like holding a baseball bat, so think of it that way."
Connor's never seen baseball, but Hank knows...sports. The general monolith of 'sports'.