Safe As A Paperweight


alia_icon.gif devon2_icon.gif

Scene Title Safe As A Paperweight
Synopsis Alia finds Devon and gets a look at the robot taken from Midtown.
Date August 6, 2011

Skinny Brickfront : Endgame Safehouse and Somewhere in New York City

If there's any such thing as a typical day at the safehouse, this afternoon would certainly fall into that category. It's a lazy afternoon, meaning at present there's little activity to be found. Most of the denizens have disappeared to attend to their own tasks, in their rooms or perhaps in the basement. In short, it's left the common area quiet and void of life but for one. Devon, in blue jeans and t-shirt, fills up a spot on the floor with legs crossed and folded in front of him and a bottle of water resting beside his hip. A half eaten sandwich is grasped between two hands, apparently and temporarily forgotten while the teen stares at the pages of a book resting open in his lap.

There is an odd sound that may or may not be hearable, as a skateboard approaches the rear of the townhouse… the sound of someone going up the fire-escape, coming in on the second floor, then coming down the stairs is likely more noticable. Nobody ever said Alia did things the easy way.

The lady chose a simple t-shirt, a beanie style cap, a set of jeans, and a comfy set of tennis shoes for the day. On her back is a backpack, into which her skateboard, among other things, has been tucked. She nods to Devon, recongizing him from the description given for who she was supposed to meet today.

Steps from behind pull Devon's attention up from the book and toward the stairwell that leads down from the upper levels. And appearance of a strange woman has him moving with deliberate care to close his book and set his sandwich down. The nod is received with a lifting brow, askance of the arrival. Without speaking, the boy stands slowly, expression slightly guarded but not unfriendly.

Steps from behind pull Devon's attention up from the book and toward the stairwell that leads down from the upper levels. And appearance of a strange woman has him moving with deliberate care to close his book and set his sandwich down. The nod is received with a lifting brow, askance of the arrival. Without speaking, the boy stands slowly, expression slightly guarded but not unfriendly.

Alia coughs slightly. "You, Devon?" The words are friendly, but clipped. "Alia Chavez. Robot for me to look at?" She offers her hand for a handshake.

"It's not here," Devon answers, extending his own hand to shake. "Yeah, I'm Devon. Robot's hidden outside." A roll of his shoulder indicates that outside is a vague answer, outside being well beyond where the safehouse rests. "It's a bit of a walk to get there," he continues, an offer to show her rather than say where it's at.

The book the teen had been reading is placed onto a spool serving as a table, meanwhile the sandwich is finished in maybe two bites. He looks at Alia and tips his head toward the door, the main door and not the way she'd entered moments before, a wordless invitation to for the woman to follow him. The action is followed in turn with Devon leading the way out and toward the streets.

It's better defined as a hike than a walk, the route Devon leads on roundabout and leaving slim chance of being followed away from the safehouse. Past bus stops and subway entrances, he speaks little save to direct to the next turn. Some few miles are traveled in this manner, through more derelict neighborhoods until the boy turns onto one walkway and follows it toward the house still standing at its end.

Alia walks along without a problem, though she watches to see if anyone is watching her. She seems nervous more about being seen then about being out and about. "Nice choice." She says as they come up on the house.

Devon looks over at Alia, one shoulder lifting slightly, unsure of the compliment. He doesn't go up to the front door, but around the side and to the back. Like most houses in this abandoned neighborhood, it shows the neglect and abandonment with broken windows and disrepair of its structure on all sides. Without apparent regard for the soundness of the house, the teenager moves through the back door and into the rear of the home, pausing only long enough to motion for Alia to wait.

And it isn't a terribly long wait. Several minutes pass before Devon's reappeared carrying the backpack which holds the disabled spider-like robot. He takes a good look around the yard as he emerges again, watching for anything out of the ordinary. His eyes, after his survey of the grounds, drop to the pack as his hands partially pull the material away from the robot. "This is it," he says, looking up at Alia.

Alia takes the robot carefully looking it over, before digging out a screwdriver from her backpack to open it up and take a look inside. It's not long before she's frowning, and getting a rather far away look as her body just stays still a brief moment or two, then she sighs. "Disabled it how?" She asks very softly, almost a sad tone in her voice.

Frowning himself, Devon's hands shove into his pockets as the robot is taken. He watches in silence, unmoving, as though the act of watching would shed light on some secret of the beast. His eyes flick from the robot to Alia at the question, then returns to the robot with a shrug. "Drove a length of rebar into it, then it got flooded with water."

Alia nods a little. "Water." She sighs as she works out how to say what she was going to say. "Technopath, or copy of one." She says very carefully.

Devon's eyes tick back to Alia, brows lifting again. That explains the intense staring at the little robot. "So… what can your technopath ability say about that thing," he asks, hesitantly.

Alia shakes her head. "Not much. Picture of you and someone else. not sure if transmited or not. Has GPS. Seems to have a communication link, dead now." She leaves off a few other details she can surmise from the general build and programming style. "Did you see others?"

Picture of himself and Jaiden. Devon sighs and tips his head back to look skyward. "There was one other robot that I saw," he replies. "One with a head like a horse. The GPS, is it functioning now or has that been disabled too?"

Alia shakes her head. "Water fried." She frowns. A horse headed… yes, that's about right. She sighed. "Right." She rubs her forehead. Too many things to think about to jump to conclusions just yet.

Lowering his head a little, Devon looks at Alia again. "Is it safe to bring it home with me," he asks, slanting a look toward the spider-bot. "And… What else can you tell me about it? Or the horse-headed one?" He pauses, then adds haltingly. "There's a third kind, cat-like. Know anything about those?"

Alia twitches at the mention of the cat-like ones. "Safe as a paperweight." She sighs. "I… know too much about them." She says, and looks like she's trying very very hard to not be pissed off with herself. "Dangerous."

"I know, right?" Devon nods toward the spider-like robot with a sort of scoffing laugh. "That thing shot out fire and got an image of my face. The horse one had a turret firing off high caliber bullets and blew out negation gas." He hasn't actually seen one of the cat-like ones, but trouble travels in threes and the first two were definitely trouble. He kneels down and pulls the pack somewhat up around the robot. "Whatever you know about them," he says quietly, glancing sidelong at Alia, "it'd be good for me, and the others to know."

Alia sighs. "Mobile. Obviously. Infrared and normal vision. Designed as hunters. Hector Steel. Collen Verse." She tilts her head, then shakes it. "possibly a copy of me driving." She states this last part with a decided distaste for the fact.

"How do they hunt," Devon asks, collecting the last of the pieces and placing them in the pack as well. The names are filed away, to be brought up when he reports to Elisabeth later on. "I guess… why are they hunting? Rumor has it they're targeting Evos."

Alia shakes her head. "Dunno. Likely are. DoEA has 'em. And HF has them." Alia looks at the dead robot with a decided amount of dread. She, too, is considering how to tell this to Liz. And to Cat.

"No surprise Humanis First has them if DoEA does." Devon regards the robot a moment longer before pulling the zipper to the pack as closed as he can. "You got any Firster names that're controlling the robots? Are they anywhere else or just in Midtown?"

Alia shakes her head. "Not concrete. and Staten Island. Air Force Base." She states dryly. "Liz knows." She sighs and rubs her forehead.

"Possible names are better than nothing," the teenager points out. He pulls the pack up onto his shoulder, straightening again. He looks out over the yard, toward the corners of the house. "Staten Island, and the air force base?" His teeth catch his lip as he looks to Alia again. "Who's suspect to have them?"

Alia sighs. "Georga Mayes. And… the General. Miller Air Field." Her words are jumbled, and she's obviously fustrated with her lack of ability to communicate as clearly as she'd like.

With another nod, Devon looks toward both corners of the house again. "Thanks, Ms. Chavez," he offers as he pulls the other strap onto his shoulder. The weight of the robot is settled against his back. "If you think of anything else, anything, about any of these robots, let us know."

Alia looks at Devon, then states very calmly. "The cats, can't hear." she says simply, as that's about all she has to add, as she turns to head back to the safe house, and to find Liz. She knows she needs to tell about this post haste… it's just a matter of timing.

He stands there, watching Alia turn to leave, his brows drawing together. The cats can't hear? Devon, as he did with everything else, files that away as he heads the opposite direction to depart the run down neighborhood as well, though his final destination will also be the safehouse.

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