[ She doesn't seem so bothered, after all she's not exactly typing anything. Has no concept of what it's like to be that slow with it, but that's her own arrogance. Instead she does as she's been doing on and off the whole time, she begins to glow, though its no more than the lines on her palm with their clothing being so covering, the light that builds up in the palm of her hand. It feels like if static was malleable, the buzz that rolls off her mind. Background radio chatter. The hum of engines. Her fingertips press flat to the screens, presses against it, presses herself into it. THe light sweeping down her fingers as she transfers the information.

It lasts no longer than a second, but her eyes shut, she sighs, like it took some effort out of her --

-- and then her eyes open, slower, dropping her fingers away. The white of the light dims to nothing. ] There, all done. You should have the updating listings for everything I've gathered so far, plus some other notes.