Seeking Shelter


devon2_icon.gif emily_icon.gif

Also featuring:

berlin_icon.gif curtis_icon.gif huruma_icon.gif lucille4_icon.gif

Scene Title Seeking Shelter
Synopsis After a sleepless night, Emily takes a bus to Rochester to see Devon.
Date June 1, 2019

The Bunker

June 1 10:43 am
Um… hey
June 1 10:44 am
Can you come outside?

The chirp from his phone isn't a startling surprise, but it is unexpected. It pulls Dev’s attention from the paperwork he's been working on forever — alright, since yesterday, but it won't end — and to the device sitting on the low table beside his bed. He pushes away from the desk and stands to retrieve the phone.

“What?” The word bubbles out with a confused chuckle. “Outside? Why?” His eyes flick to the window, which shows nothing unusual in the sky. He shakes his head, puzzled, and taps back a reply.

June 1 10:46 am
Sure? I'll let you know when I'm outside

Five minutes later…

The main entrance into the Bunker opens to the outside. It swings effortlessly on an almost silent hinge, framing a small section that is the main corridor of the paramilitary base. The contrast of light between the outside and in makes it difficult to pick out great details, but a familiar silhouette crosses the threshold. A full step out of the building and onto the pavement reveals a vaguely confused Devon. His eyes are on his cell phone, thumbs just getting into the motion for typing a text.

Mouth opening and closing, Emily opts not to immediately call out, standing afar with her backpack slung on her back. Words aren’t her strong suit at the moment, clearly, or she wouldn’t have shown up without notice. Instead, she hits send on a message she’d been fussing over following his last response. Better late than never?

June 1 10:50 am
Do you remember when you said I could visit any time?

The message pops up when he's half way into writing his own, and Devon pauses to stare at it. For all of his book smarts, it still takes him a beat to do the math and look up from his phone. Then it really doesn't take him long to find Emily. She stands out against the concrete and sparse greenery.

Instead of finishing the message he'd started, Dev shoves the phone into his pocket at starts across the courtyard. “You're really here.” He doesn't call out, maybe mindful of who might be nearby. But he's obviously surprised. And happy. “I would've met you at… whichever station.”

“I didn't know if I'd end up making it,” Emily explains with a shift of one shoulder. Translation: this was unplanned. Her gaze flickers up and down him quickly, a spotcheck for anything wrong, and finds him to be well. Perhaps that was enough and a simple FaceTime would have sufficed, but here she was.

Her hand shifts up the strap in her bag, adjusting it. It might be packed for the night.

“I definitely should have called though,” she notes belatedly, blandly. What if they'd all been busy here? Good question.

“Do you have any plans today?”

“Too late to worry about it now.” That's Devon refusing to let hindsight turn things sour. He smiles when he stops in front of her, then angles a look over his shoulder. At the entrance. “Nope. Nothing important anyway.” The work he's got covering his desk inside isn't on a deadline. “Thought I'd raid the lounge for leftovers later.”

He looks at Emily again and tips his head toward the building. It's an invitation inside, if she'd like to. “I can easily reconsider my food choices though. There's a place a few blocks from here that's pretty good.”

The thought of scavenging for leftovers pulls one side of Emily's mouth back in a small smile. “Hey, either way is…” she starts to say, feigned nonchalance fading as she looks back to the bunker door. Right… Inside. Here. This place. The bunker campus is imposing, unfamiliar, and she lets her gaze wander the yard.

Her gut flips and starts making like it's going to have her walk off, but her feet hold her in place. Emily tries to kickstart her thought process again, brow twitching.

She looks back at Devon, a quick smile coming to her. “It's good to see you either way.” is all she says. Apparently she’s going to need pried from her current spot.

After watching the switch flip and indecision come strong, Devon takes hold of her hand, reassuring. It'll be alright, he'll make sure of it. Somehow. “I'm glad you made the trip up,” he replies, taking the first step toward the Bunker. “Really happy to see you.”

With a gentle tug, Dev motions toward the building again. “We can stow you bag,” he explains. “Take a short tour if you want. Then wander around town a bit?” All suggestions, normal things as they both usually desire. Hopefully enough to ease Emily's apprehensions so she can enjoy herself.

With a flicker of a smile in return, Emily lets herself root into Devon instead of the ground, following his lead. "If that's all right," is all she says to the multiple different suggestions, torn and not wanting to turn any down. She peers back at the building skeptically before she asks, "Who's all around?" and follows it with a slightly more awkward, "Is it all right?"

She's still in the starts and stops, hesitant to fully follow after. Her pace stutters, usually accompanied by a new round of peering each time. After a moment of awkward silence passes, she suggests, "Dinner out could be nice if leftovers aren't appetizing."

“I'm not actually sure what's in the fridge.” It isn't a rush to get inside. Dev meanders, with frequent looks at Emily. “Probably spaghetti, maybe a chance at the unidentifiable casserole.” That isn't a joke, although he wishes it were. “And there's always sandwiches.”

As for who's around, he shrugs. “I know some of the team’s setting up in the Safe Zone. So I'm not totally sure who actually is around this weekend.”

He slips his hand from hers to open the door when it's within reach. “It's totally alright,” Devon offers assuringly. “Don't worry so much, we’re going to have a good time. ” He smiles and ushers Emily into the Bunker.

“Yeah…” slips from Emily uncertainly, though there is some comfort in knowing that yes, some people are definitely down in the Safe Zone.

With luck, maybe even her father was still among that number.

She turns back at him at the suggestion she not worry as much, trying not to look like someone standing on very slippery ice. “Yeah,” she says again, forced cheer in it. He’s right, of course. Everything will be fine. If nothing else, the place is physically safe, even if it’s a landmine in other ways.

The shift in light once they’re indoors takes a moment to adjust to, eyes squinting as they step into the lobby. The sleek marbling of the floor seems to be the only color in the overall gray space, and she draws her arms into a tight fold while she considers the broad, undecorated area. Man, this feels pretty… she starts to think to herself, but Emily can’t quite put her finger on what it is.

Industrial? Prison-like? She was trying to be kind to the space and give it a chance.

“It might be better to have dinner out somewhere, then,” Emily relents, not sounding enthused at mystery-casserole. She was all for being frugal, but there were lines to be drawn.

“It's not as cold and imposing as it looks,” Devon explains quietly, following a moment of watching Emily take in the immediate interior of the building. “It's utilitarian or institutional, but… I mean, so are colleges.” Imagine colorful posters advertising for social mixers and Greek houses hanging on the walls and it's probably not a stretch.

After another moment, he starts pointing out some directions.

“That way’s the business side. Armory, hanger, offices.” It's motioned to with a nod of his head. Not boring, but not a tourist destination. At least not right now but maybe another time. “Through there's the training hall.” Which is probably self explanatory. Weights and mats and all of those things.

Taking her hand again, Dev turns to another hallway. “This way to the living quarters. Everyone’s got their own room. And there's the lounge, like a communal living room.” Probably where he'd be finding that mystery casserole he mentioned earlier.

The ambiance of the bunker is already rather calm and quiet, up until now. It makes it all the more startling when Devon and Emily hear a shouted echo through the corridors Devon points out last.


One of Avi's favorite things to shout. Although this isn't Avi, it's Huruma, stalking around the far corner of the hall, ability already making her wiser to the two sneaking around the Bunker. She's not here for them, though. At least, hopefully not—

One, she's in a satin robe, Two, she has a pasteless toothbrush sticking out of her mouth like a cigar—

Three, it's more than a little intimidating having Huruma coming right down the hall towards you, as irritated as she appears to be. Wolfhound knows her alleycat moments. Emily, not so much.

"Children." Hello, Devon, Emily. A greeting as she nears, terse but not entirely impolite.

"Does anyone ever say Francis' name without screaming?" Nathalie steps out from a hallway that leads to the gym, a towel around her neck and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She's mostly teasing, with how she gives even a terse Huruma a crooked smile. But that smile spreads wider when she sees Emily and Devon there.

"Em!" she greets warmly, but at least there's no hug. She's been working out and she's not totally cruel. "Dev, I didn't know you were bringing her by. We could have, I don't know, put down a rug or something." Somewhere in her mind is the idea that one is to make their home presentable when visitors come by. But hell if she knows how to manage that.

Emily starts at the sound of the initial yelling, already starting to slink back like maybe she shouldn't be here, feet stuck into the ground like they're encased in cinderblocks once she actually sees Huruma. Her dread of seeing anyone else is at once deepened and twisted into a sort of ease — Huruma is dressed non-threateningly. (But she also carries herself still intimidatingly. It's complicated.)

So thank goodness for Berlin suddenly making an appearance. She looks genuinely relieved to see a friendly face, even if she doesn't make it as far as doing anything so at ease as to smile. “Hey,” she manages in reply, slightly more confident in tone than it would have been before. “I just— stopped in for the weekend. I really don't want any fuss,” Emily explains awkwardly. Read: she'd prefer not to be noticed, or have attention drawn to her presence.

For one, who knew who else might show up. More practically, though, she wasn't sure what exactly the guest policy around here was.

"The hell?" Is muttered as Curtis pokes his head out into the hallway at hearing the shouting and hollering. He turns his head and spots… Hooms. Terrorizing people. "Ahh." There's a snort from the soldier before he spots Devon and Emily and lofts a brow. "This the girl?" He calls down the hall to the blonde man. He steps out of the doorway but doesn't crowd the pair, hanging back a bit. "Standing still is good. Don't run from Huruma. She might chase." Teasing Emily a bit, though it… might.. not be… entirely a joke. It's said in a deadpan voice at least. He just folds his arms over his chest and watches from just outside the doorway of his room.

The yelling both brings Devon's gaze up to find the source and causes his hand to tighten slightly around Emily's. Not to keep her from fleeing but to reassure himself. And her. There's a subtle tension in his shoulders that eases when it's only Huruma who appears.

In a dressing gown.

With a toothbrush hanging from her mouth.

“Hey.” The greeting starts on a more cautious note, instead of the lippy response the woman might’ve gotten months ago. He begins to follow up with a look to Emily, but then there's Nat. And Curtis just a second later. Which isn’t bad. Except that a clean get away is now impossible.

“I didn't know,” he admits to Nathalie. “She texted me from outside.” Which does produce a small smile. It's a nice surprise. It's a short lived one though. He glances at Huruma before answering Curtis. “Yeah. This is Emily.”

"No." is Huruma's answer to Nathalie in regards to the junior Harkness, whipping the brush out of her cheek, thumbing at the corner of her mouth. She seems to note Emily's desire to hide, at the very least. A narrow look tilts at Curtis, what a side-eye it is before her frame unwinds. "I will not chase you. Today. Apologies for the …barging." The hand holding brush gesticulates in a vague circle to Demily, her voice drawling faintly. Going through the motions, literally.

"Harkness was supposed to—" A pause, "You know what, nevermind. I'm angry and he's heading that way at a clip." Huruma jabs a finger to the southwest, indicating somewhere behind concrete and metal.

"He cannot run from me forever." The way she says it, dark and foreboding, brows knit, is a tone she uses for shivers and spines; her free hand scrubs over shorn ebony scalp, lips pulled in an irritated expression.

It's quite possible she doesn't regard the fact she is still in a robe as problematic; the hem of it only stops above her knees, the front loose. Nothing untoward. Yet, anyway. The Pack knows her too well to assume she'll care one way or another, though.

"Francis might want to run," Nat says to Curtis' advice, her tone amused, "like, fast." Poor guy. She turns back to Emily and Devon, shaking her head. "Okay, no fuss. But sorry if you stumble across a mess." And the mess may be weapons, who knows. "The kitchen's always stocked," she adds, gesturing in that direction.

She also seems unconcerned by Huruma's state of dress and any possibility of it getting unseemly. Maybe they're all too used to it by now.

"You gonna show her the jet?" Nat asks with a sudden smile. That would be first on her list, anyway. Their toys are pretty cool, after all.

Well, there’s no need to run. No need for them to run, at least. Whoever Francis is, though…

Emily glances sidelong to Berlin, agreeing with her assessment. Afterward, her attention travels to the man who’d made the comment perhaps she should run, regarding him with an arched brow. “And who are you?” she asks, trying to keep challenge from entering her voice. It’s hard, though, with her being referred to simply as the girl.

Well, it was a step above Epstein’s daughter, at least.

As her thoughts go back in that direction, Emily looks back Berlin’s way, a silent question in them. Should she worry about running into him, too?

Curtis can't help the smug expression that settles in place at… everything. A brow is arched at Hooms as she gives him that look, his smirk pulling wider as his attention swings from the dark woman to the rest of the group. "Oh Francis definitely wants to run." He agrees with Berlin with a quick nod. "Like Ivanov fast. Not that it will help him. Only delay the inevitable." The smug expression relaxes into an easy smile. "Autumn, Curtis ma'am." The big soldier turning that relaxed smile on Emily. "You take care of our packmate yeah?" He glances in Devon's direction, a quick flash of concern on the man's face before he looks up and down the hallway. "Also you should totally have him show you the jet." Curtis agreeing with Berlin with a couple quick nods of his head, a hand reaching back behind him to open the door to his room, intent on leaving Emily and Devon to their time at the Bunker.

Whistling as she walks out from the training area, Lucille is sweating. A towel laid across her bare shoulders, the dark gray tank top darker in some spots because of the moisture. One look across the hall and she stops and tilts her head: huh. They had a guest. She was feeling refreshed, recentered. The tall woman is unwrapping her hands as she pads barefoot towards the group. "Oh hey." Eyes sweeping across them all but settling on Emily.

There was a time when this would have been an epic showdown between the two women. Full of sass.

After their "coming to terms" at the hospital when Devon resurfaced, it was nothingggggg now. Those simmering feelings of dislike they had shared. Now Huruma feels that calmness that she's come to know as Lucille's base. Breathing easy, chest slowly rising up and falling down. "You here to have lunch with your dad?" That's sweet. She needed to see her dad, come to think of it.

“Maybe,” Dev answers Nathalie slowly. He'd thought about it, the jet is pretty awesome, but that's likely something he'd have to clear through someone with a higher pay grade than him. “I'll see if we can't get into the hanger. Maybe I can convince Mini Harkness…” His eyes flick toward Huruma and away again, but it's enough that Nat and Curtis (and Huruma if she's watching) can catch the implied reasons.

A shift of his feet intend to draw himself and Emily from the impromptu gathering. Except there's Lucille now too. Dev’s grin becomes a little forced, especially when Emily's father is brought up so casually.

"Ah, what a party in here." Huruma's response to awkwardness getting yet one more addition is dry. She lets out a breath through her teeth, swinging on past Devon and Emily, one hand absently tightening her belt. "As long as you two don't break anything—" Which, she sounds quite doubtful about, "Just show her the bloody jet." Huruma's laugh is a little sharp, echoing the others more clearly. "Or take one of the other beasts for a test drive."

"Rochester is much nicer a hangout." Especially in this case. With her words out. Huruma steps away, padding down the hall to where she had been heading. Soon after she turns the far corner of the corridor and departs, they hear a barked, "Harkness!" echo back. She'll find him. Don't worry.

Nat looks back at Emily, the unspoken question getting a small shake of her head. It should be safe. Hopefully it stays that way; Nat wouldn't want Emily's first impression on the bunker to get ruined. And in the same vein, she steps over to Lucille, hooking her arm through her friend's before she starts to pull her along. Away from Emily. "She's here to see her boyfriend, Luce. No one wants their dad around when they're with their boyfriend." When she looks back to her sister, her look is an apologetic one.

"You guys want some privacy? We can go… do target practice. That's far away. And loud." In the interest of privacy. "Right, Luce?" Right, Luce?

When Curtis introduces himself, the order ensures Emily thinks the man's first name is Autumn. She's heard stranger names, after all. The encouragement to look after Devon doesn't exactly make her expression fall, but she nods, gravity to it. Her hand settles back into Devon's with a bit more purpose, her thoughts elsewhere for a moment …

Until Lucille makes her appearance. The teenager's brow pops up in surprise, at first a pleasant one. A pleasantness that's washed out to sea at the mention of her father.

"I'm more likely to have lunch with your father than with mine," Emily states evenly. Nathalie's distraction earns her a glance, probably a thankful one, but trying to stay on the level ensures it's a guarded, if not flat thing. She turns back to Devon, suggesting, "Everyone's pretty insistent on the jet, Dev."

"Waugh" As Nathalie pulls her away, Lucille follows along and looks over her shoulder, "I mean I guess but," Lucille looks back at her best friend and leans in, "He works/live here." She whispers hotly at her friend and fixes her face to turn back towards Emily and Devon and offer a wave, "Yes the jet is amazing, have Francis take you out for a spin." Hmmmmmm.

An offering for you. Dear Emily. Lucille flashes that dazzling smile and those eyes twinkle, she looks like she's one of those fitness models advertising an unbelievable cross fit lifestyle.

Okay, okay they are leaving the building. Lucille waves again, "Nice seeing ya! I'm gonna go teach Burr how to handle a Uzi." It's the best she can do, the forced enthusiasm, the pressing of her teeth together as Nathalie drags her out of the way. Looks like Team Luce's blasting off againnnnnnnn.

“It's a pretty cool jet,” Devon asides to Emily. Since the whole team — at least of those present — is insisting so hard about seeing it, he turns the other direction. It leads away from the living quarters and common gathering places. So hopefully by the time they make it back, everyone’ll have gone back to their rooms.

“It's this way,” he states. And he goes on explaining about the various properties of the jet. It's probably not very interesting, all technical jargon interjected with descriptions of what he means, but he sounds fascinated all the same anyway. At least Em will have some idea of its capabilities when she and Dev finally reach it.

And if they're (un)lucky, Emily thinks to herself, they'll even run into the Francis everyone's talked so much about.

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