In truth Jeremiah nearly died from his powers back when he was young; for two years his lungs continued to slowly fill with poison from his not quite manifested ability. The damage had been severe, to say the least, and if it weren't for a small group of others like him...well Drifter would've been dead long ago. Once they helped him draw out those latent abilities though, well the Cajun boy took to flight and being weightless/form with relative ease. To him being a super was simply second nature, and while the destructive side of his powers once gave him pause that trepidation long since faded away. "No need to go feeling bad about it at all, mon ami. Ya are good at tearing shit up, and I do love watching ya work."
Murk wasn't sure how things would've played out had she been brought up in this world of powered folk. Yet he figured some spark of that brave, and sweet, woman would always be a part of her. "Now dat's a power I could get behind. Like one of those Greek gods...the one who was in charge of wine and partying. Fuck, I'd call him or her a dear friend, long as they hooked me up with the booze." Just thinking about had his mouth watering, and after fishing out his flask Drifter took a large swing of the moon shine he had brewed up in his tub. A soft cough escaped the man for a second, but as the liquid burned it's way down his throat Miah sighed contentedly.
He knew Penny was right about getting Red back, but some lingering shred of doubt tickled at the back of his mind. Even through the narcotics he feared for his missing friend...and that fear didn't sit right with him at all. It was only when she spoke up again that Drifter managed to turn his thoughts back to the present, and with a warm little chuckle that eyebrow of his arched slightly. "Maybe, eh?" With a playful wink Jeremiah leaned closer; those soft lips of his finding purchase against her bare neck, so lightly trailing just a few little kisses along her flesh, until Penny could feel him gently nibbling as well.