Carlisle's eyes narrow, his brow knitting together as Marian absolutely loses him.

"Right. Going to have you stop there, because I have no idea what it is you're going on about. I don't particularly" —his gaze flicks to the device on her back, then returns to her face, uncertainty coloring him— "...like technology." Or trust it. He questions the communicators on a near-daily basis. "So you're going to have to either explain some of that to me, or just take my initial answer."