poorgirlsarcee: (Lucifer)
Mira Greson ([personal profile] poorgirlsarcee) wrote in [community profile] srwug_alpha_rp2012-11-05 12:41 am

Geeking moment

Mira sat in one of her favorite places, Lucy at her side, though the guitar was being ignored as she went over things that Tony Stark had given her. Some of the plans for the advanced Cyclone were modifications that she could do to her bike with a little work. She hummed a little, the song was an oldie that she thought amusingly fit with him.

Soon she was singing the lyrics, in a low whisper, not even knowing if there were others in the secluded room she was sitting on the floor in.

Her fingers danced over the holographic keyboard as she checked to see if they had supplies to try the mods with.
psychosemantics: (Grin)

[personal profile] psychosemantics 2012-11-06 09:34 am (UTC)(link)
I'd have known you had it if you were playing it, obviously. But even listening, I can only get a general location of things.

But that's hardly important at all. Music, right? Mind leading the way, Hilde?

[[The woman nods and leads on, toward the hangar. Not a room, the hangar.]]
psychosemantics: (Default)

[personal profile] psychosemantics 2012-11-06 06:20 pm (UTC)(link)
That's because iiiiiiit's... [[He looks around a bit... and taps his foot. The woman kind of stomps a bit too, making him shift his pointing to a massive green 60 meter quadraped machine.]]

There. That's my studio. My home. My garden. All that good stuff.
psychosemantics: (Default)

[personal profile] psychosemantics 2012-11-11 12:34 am (UTC)(link)
Oh? Well... it's mine. My home, my studio, all that jazz. If I ever get kicked out, at least I'm not homeless. Just a wandering blind DJ...

[[So, with that, the armored chick leads on, which, it's pretty well set up and organized to get from ground level up into the studio parts of the machine. It's... really a huge, professional sound booth and all!]]
psychosemantics: (Default)

[personal profile] psychosemantics 2012-11-12 04:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Lets move along please. [[The armored woman chimes up. She can't have strangers meandering about. Not that there's secrets, but, it's not her home.]]

Yeah, gotta show you the crates, lady.
psychosemantics: (Default)

[personal profile] psychosemantics 2012-11-15 05:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Bah, you're never too old for formalities.

[[It makes the poor armored girl blush because... they've had the same conversation with the same result. But more adventuring through the mech ahead, they get into large room with an elaborate set of turntables in the center.]] This should be it.

It is, sir
psychosemantics: (Sad face?)

[personal profile] psychosemantics 2012-11-16 03:18 pm (UTC)(link)
That so, eh? Whas that s'posed to mean?

[[Behold... crates, and crates of records, mostly stacked (and locked) to sections of the walls, however, there's a few loose ones locked in place the turntables]]
psychosemantics: (Lady Hilde)

[personal profile] psychosemantics 2012-11-17 06:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[[Since he looks totally confused...]]

It's mostly a fashion and attitude thing, sir. Something you'd actually have to see to understand.

[[Did she just...??]]

Oooooh, a'ight. [[Looking no different, he just moves over to the turntables and holds his hand out.]] Pick one and I'll show ya how they work.
psychosemantics: (Default)

[personal profile] psychosemantics 2012-11-20 04:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh? I thought you just wanted to see how they worked. I don't mind if I do though.

[[Reaching out for the record, he sets it in place, followed by an array of red displays shooting up from the turntables; quite like Tony Stark's fancy setup, only, red so he can see the damn stuff with HIS eyes (he has echo-locating implants after all)

And so, a remix was spun!]]