[ The cart he's rigged together for ease of lugging his work back and forth from the scrapyard to the small apartment he shares with Sabo is dragged up alongside of him, tipped forward to park it as he reaches out to steady the short locker with the flat of his palm. ]

For the most part, yeah. Metal's not hard for me to work with —

[ The ends of his fingers ignite, into flames that he holds up before him. A simple explanation, before he shakes them out. ]

And it keeps my mind off of things I don't want to waste my time spiraling about. Do you like it? You can look it over, feel free.