"Settle in, then," Soldat says amiably. If they've been exuding the air of someone who wants to be left alone, they've clearly been doing something wrong. Though it's true they haven't been going out and actively trying to meet new people the past week or so. Oops.

They flash him a smile, up to their elbows in flour, the metal arm fused up into one solid piece along their forearm to keep flour from getting in the usual cracks. "I'm Soldat. I'm working on pastry for some pies right now-- what are you good at? I can point you at the ingredients or tools or whatever you need."