"Irrelevant going forward in this specific way," the SOLDIER grumbles, wiping his hands on his pants instead of anything more useful like an apron or towel. "Here I am not dying, losing my mind or able to cause anyone else to suffer the same affliction." Still a monster, but one with its wings clipped and claws filed and teeth extracted; he can do no harm that he doesn't intend to, and it was one of the greatest blessings this ship offered. Not a day went by where he wasn't grateful for it.

It absolutely colored things, but so did having that pressure stripped away. "Let's pretend I haven't been making use of anything here and have just been spinning wheels since I arrived." He crosses his arms over his chest, watching not Shaw but the oven. "What resources should I be making use of?"