"I suppose you heat anything up on the inside an' it's probably gonna burst out. Like a bad batch of popcorn."
Magically is a particularly plausible thing, here. And one that Drifter accepts even in the terms of his world. True, science and 'magic' have long since overlapped for them. But to Drifter, 'magic' is being able to change the very physics of the universe with thoughts and words. Written ones. Spoken ones. Brilliant imaginings that can bring forward change; not always for the better or the worse, light or for dark.
So yeah. 'Magically' made larger? He can accept that. The Hive make one of their own species larger all the time. The thin gangly thrall. Frail, long-nailed, fragile. Given enough change and power, they become a massive, fearsome ogre shambling after and obliterating everything in its path.
Giant hornet? Yeah, he'll accept that. Sounds like a Hive thing.
"True. If we ain't talkin' in terms of normal Earth hornets? Things come a lot tougher. Adapted to heat an' cold an' pressure. Especially layers of pressure. But still. Somethin' with an exoskeleton's gonna retain a lotta energy- and well, I ain't got one on me. Technically." He shrugs thoughtfully. "But I can make one."
And look at him handle that... Dog tag? Well, makes about as much sense as anything.
"Look at that. Looks like you got some skills too, Brother." He sounds impressed at the little spin.
"Flickin' your wrist and fingers does a lot to make the coin go where you want it to when you don't want it in your fingers no more. Or when you want it back in 'em."
He flicks his hand forward and starts to walk coins between his own fingers. Four of them. And he's grinning as he does, a playful, nose-wrinkled one. "Catch." One of them he bounces off the table, hitting it just so that it goes towards one of Connor's hands.
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Magically is a particularly plausible thing, here. And one that Drifter accepts even in the terms of his world. True, science and 'magic' have long since overlapped for them. But to Drifter, 'magic' is being able to change the very physics of the universe with thoughts and words. Written ones. Spoken ones. Brilliant imaginings that can bring forward change; not always for the better or the worse, light or for dark.
So yeah. 'Magically' made larger? He can accept that. The Hive make one of their own species larger all the time. The thin gangly thrall. Frail, long-nailed, fragile. Given enough change and power, they become a massive, fearsome ogre shambling after and obliterating everything in its path.
Giant hornet? Yeah, he'll accept that. Sounds like a Hive thing.
"True. If we ain't talkin' in terms of normal Earth hornets? Things come a lot tougher. Adapted to heat an' cold an' pressure. Especially layers of pressure. But still. Somethin' with an exoskeleton's gonna retain a lotta energy- and well, I ain't got one on me. Technically." He shrugs thoughtfully. "But I can make one."
And look at him handle that... Dog tag? Well, makes about as much sense as anything.
"Look at that. Looks like you got some skills too, Brother." He sounds impressed at the little spin.
"Flickin' your wrist and fingers does a lot to make the coin go where you want it to when you don't want it in your fingers no more. Or when you want it back in 'em."
He flicks his hand forward and starts to walk coins between his own fingers. Four of them. And he's grinning as he does, a playful, nose-wrinkled one. "Catch." One of them he bounces off the table, hitting it just so that it goes towards one of Connor's hands.