“...get a smelter from HQ, melt the bloody things into weird shapes, sell them as art pieces? Maybe.... I don't know the first bloody thing about art though, so I'll probably end up wasting the platinum and get in trouble.... How would I even get HQ to send me a smelter...?” Raymond's sotto-voce brainstorm was interrupted by someone bumping into him. He automatically muttered, “Sorry,” though after a moment's realization, he was certain he wasn't the one at fault. “Uh, are you alright, young miss?” A pantomime gesture informed him that 'she' was a 'he.' “Umm... young man?” Ray's brow scrunched in surprise and confusion for a moment, then relaxed as he shrugged. “Well, I hope you aren't hurt.” The boy made a gesture that took Ray a second to figure out. “Who me? No, I'm fine.” Ray patted his exoskeleton to show its durability. “I'm more concerned with you, speeding face-first into plasteel plating.” The boy made some more gestures that Raymond took to mean that he was fine. “Tell you what, I'll buy you a treat to make up for your nose running into a metal man, okay?” A nod and a smile and the two were underway.

“You can't speak can you?” Ray asked. The boy shook his head. Ray started making a strange sound with his voicebox. It took the boy a moment to realize from the rhythm that he was laughing. “I can't speak either. Well, not with my real voice. I lost it in an accident, and I had to get an electronic voicebox instead. Either way, I'll be sure to only ask you yes or no questions then; I don't speak sign language and I hate charades. I suck at it.” A silence held until Ray piped up again, “I don't suppose you know anything about platinum sculptures, do you?” He shook his head. “Worth a shot.”