( Ah yes, there's some relatable gallows humor. It puts a grim, understanding expression on Ian's face — not quite a smile, not quite a grimace, something in between. I'll try to live long enough-- is exactly why he's made close friends with the guy who's been distilling the moonshine here. )
I can--
( He starts, and then shoots a glance around the steady population headed toward the supply line. Grabs up his package, and nods his head toward a spot a little more out of the way. )
When I started I could only do, like— tool sized, you know? Change the shape of screwdrivers, hammers, stuff like that, but after a few months...
( There's a flat sheet of metal making up one of the walls of the theater. A thin line fades into existence, carving out the distinct shape of a door. No knob, but it swings open at a perfect ninety degree angle as though bent. )
Twenty-five cubic feet at a time exactly. In... ( A conceding shrug. ) Any... real variation, but total maximum area is always the same. When I'm not outright duplicating, when I'm... just, rearranging what's already there, it seems to be confined by the law of conservation of mass.
( He can't make it disappear and he can't just add on an additional foot where it doesn't exist. Not without sitting down and deliberately thinking about duplicating, like, a foot of material in a completely separate process. )
There are... rules, there's a consistent logic system in what I can and can't do, I just don't understand why. Plus, I keep thinking... you know, if I can rearrange physical structure, why not atomic? Lead into gold, you know what I mean? But... nothing, so far.
no subject
I can--
( He starts, and then shoots a glance around the steady population headed toward the supply line. Grabs up his package, and nods his head toward a spot a little more out of the way. )
When I started I could only do, like— tool sized, you know? Change the shape of screwdrivers, hammers, stuff like that, but after a few months...
( There's a flat sheet of metal making up one of the walls of the theater. A thin line fades into existence, carving out the distinct shape of a door. No knob, but it swings open at a perfect ninety degree angle as though bent. )
Twenty-five cubic feet at a time exactly. In... ( A conceding shrug. ) Any... real variation, but total maximum area is always the same. When I'm not outright duplicating, when I'm... just, rearranging what's already there, it seems to be confined by the law of conservation of mass.
( He can't make it disappear and he can't just add on an additional foot where it doesn't exist. Not without sitting down and deliberately thinking about duplicating, like, a foot of material in a completely separate process. )
There are... rules, there's a consistent logic system in what I can and can't do, I just don't understand why. Plus, I keep thinking... you know, if I can rearrange physical structure, why not atomic? Lead into gold, you know what I mean? But... nothing, so far.