Is it rude to whisper under an artificial intelligence's commendably thorough debrief? Possibly. But without eyeballs to look into or even the illusion of a face—Fred the golem has one of those—, it's difficult to restrain herself from the impulse to draw Ellis in closer via a clever tightening of her arm so as to very quietly say to him, "I could be entirely mistaken of course, Mister Ellis. But I suspect we're in no immediate danger."
—Before returning her attention to oooing and aahing at all the bits and pieces of the introduction which seem most qualified to receive it.
"Mister Jarvis," isn't as tentative an address as it might be. Really, there's little functional difference between addressing the air of the room and speaking into her sending crystal. And this is hardly the first time she's found herself in a strange place asking strange and obvious questions. "Where in the tower are you located? And could you explain how this picture you're showing us is made? And also—"
And so on and so forth.
Suffice to say, Wysteria can conjure enough questions to fill the requisite time. The close cinch of her arm, meanwhile, doesn't loosen.
no subject
—Before returning her attention to oooing and aahing at all the bits and pieces of the introduction which seem most qualified to receive it.
"Mister Jarvis," isn't as tentative an address as it might be. Really, there's little functional difference between addressing the air of the room and speaking into her sending crystal. And this is hardly the first time she's found herself in a strange place asking strange and obvious questions. "Where in the tower are you located? And could you explain how this picture you're showing us is made? And also—"
And so on and so forth.
Suffice to say, Wysteria can conjure enough questions to fill the requisite time. The close cinch of her arm, meanwhile, doesn't loosen.