"Things..." which is the obvious answer, the one that Robin himself had called it, but Phalanx is quite aware of how poor of a response it is. After a fidgety tilt of their head, they try again.

"Things that, mm..." Phalanx reaches into the sleeve where the latest junk had fallen from, fishes around to see if there's anything left, and comes back with a rusty metal bolt. "Shine... and roll, or click. Quick. Pick. I just... pick them up."