"Planet I was on, not really mine, not that mine's much better now. Suppose Earth's half dead?- it's complicated" Things he breezes past in thought and speech to avoid, well. Dwelling. If he dwells he'll hunt around for something stronger than wine and that doesn't ever lead anywhere good. He's got work. That'll keep him busy enough. Getting the mill worked up for powering the adjacent buildings takes his mind off of it, the puzzle that is the power grid of the bunker keeps him from getting too maudlin.

The walk to the forge isn't all that far, even in the cold. Effort keeps the chill from getting to him while he's away from the hearth . "Usually there's a little more flash in my proposals but we're dialed back to relatively normal, here. Not a lot of gunpowder or any kind of magic to go around."

There's a hesitance around the word 'magic'- not distaste so much as disbelief. Where he's from? It's not a thing- is a thing but- it's just science he hasn't figured the rules out for yet, that's all.