[ No one... uses telegrams anymore....? Anymore. Like it's an outdated concept. The thought is.... shocking, spikes Edward's anxiety immediately, and it's with that discomfort that he listens, brow pinched, features tight, more disturbed than he is curious....
A person in fancy dress serenading someone while they're working? A person acting as a telegram? If he didn't look distressed enough already, he's certainly looking the part now. His stomach aches with anxious knots, heart giving nervous spasms. Anyone else might inquire further about these.... birthday telegrams..... but for the moment, he can only handle one horror at a time.
So he's listening to what Kieren describes in regards to the "computer", eyes slowly traveling back to look at the screen, squinting again at its brightness. There are many terms he doesn't understand — internet, chatroom, forums — but he does grasp the gist of it. Communication. It would be fascinating if he wasn't so shocked by the idea, just staring blankly at that screen and then down again as the boy touches a strange little item that rolls and makes it do clicking things. He doesn't like that at all! It's weird!
But he's starting again as something appears on the screen then, shifting uncomfortably, everything within him wanting to tense away from this. Edward is no pursuer of knowledge, hardly driven by a thirst for the unknown. He has no desire to endanger himself or cause himself a necessary discomfort in the pursuit of understanding more. He'd very much like to turn away from this and not look at it again.
...But he won't abandon this young man (Edward it is not that deep, he's just showing you some technology).
And so, he's... trying. To understand. Still squinting, he scans what's on the screen, realising they are messages. God above, what..... ]
Eee mails. [ He draws out the 'e' a bit too long, looking uncertain; what a strange... word. He's so confused about so many things! ]
....How does one... sign them? These letters? Can ink even attach to such a..... surface? [ He lifts a gloved hand in gesture to the computer screen (not too close to it, mind.) ]
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A person in fancy dress serenading someone while they're working? A person acting as a telegram? If he didn't look distressed enough already, he's certainly looking the part now. His stomach aches with anxious knots, heart giving nervous spasms. Anyone else might inquire further about these.... birthday telegrams..... but for the moment, he can only handle one horror at a time.
So he's listening to what Kieren describes in regards to the "computer", eyes slowly traveling back to look at the screen, squinting again at its brightness. There are many terms he doesn't understand — internet, chatroom, forums — but he does grasp the gist of it. Communication. It would be fascinating if he wasn't so shocked by the idea, just staring blankly at that screen and then down again as the boy touches a strange little item that rolls and makes it do clicking things. He doesn't like that at all! It's weird!
But he's starting again as something appears on the screen then, shifting uncomfortably, everything within him wanting to tense away from this. Edward is no pursuer of knowledge, hardly driven by a thirst for the unknown. He has no desire to endanger himself or cause himself a necessary discomfort in the pursuit of understanding more. He'd very much like to turn away from this and not look at it again.
...But he won't abandon this young man (Edward it is not that deep, he's just showing you some technology).
And so, he's... trying. To understand. Still squinting, he scans what's on the screen, realising they are messages. God above, what..... ]
Eee mails. [ He draws out the 'e' a bit too long, looking uncertain; what a strange... word. He's so confused about so many things! ]
....How does one... sign them? These letters? Can ink even attach to such a..... surface? [ He lifts a gloved hand in gesture to the computer screen (not too close to it, mind.) ]