As a child, her ability had always been passed off as an active imagination or, simply, growing up in the generation that she did. Given her middle-class background, it wasn’t too odd to see her with some kind of handheld gaming device, or later, as a teenager, a cell phone. Much like others her age, they seemed to be glued to her hand. She liked music, even if she had never been particularly musically talented, and had a walkman until it died then a CD player until that died then, finally, an iPod.
And she does mean died in the literal sense. Her parents, while pleased at how careful she was with her gadgets, had always been confused by her heartbreak over their inevitable end.
Her walkman had been finicky, both electronically and personality-wise. It had lamented at her music choices, but had done its duty to the best of its abilities until it could no longer do so. Her CD player, in contrast, had been perky and eager to play new songs, as fascinated in different genres as she was. She broke Evan Thoreau’s nose when he snatched and broke it, in an attempt to get her attention.
Her iPod, ever since she had gotten it, had always been a bit precocious. Perhaps because it had a slightly higher computing power than her previous music players, but probably because most Apple products tended to be a little quirky. Her iPhone certainly enjoyed downloading random apps–thankfully, it restricted itself to free ones and only when using Wi-Fi–for her to flick through and discard as chosen. Similarly, her iPod liked to create brand new playlists for her everyday, so that each day would be a surprise. It had also taken to rick-rolling far more than she’d prefer, but that was just another facet of its slightly annoying, but lovable identity.
So it wasn’t all that surprising that, when jack booted thugs stole her iPod, she was more than a little pissed.
A/N: Uh… a mini-attempt at that technopath!Darcy idea I mentioned before. It’s harder than I thought it would be to articulate.