Not Going Home


nadira_icon.gif nadal_icon.gif

Scene Title Not Going Home
Synopsis A bittersweet reunion between siblings.
Date August 5, 2010


"Abandon hope all ye who enter here."

That is the sign that rests just above the double doors that lead from the small foyer into the club proper. Once through the doors the music is all-encompassing, the heavy bass beat filling the room and senses of the club-goers. The decor is all dark, the walls painted black, the bar a sleek dark wood. The lights all have a reddish tinge to them, with the bar and DJ booth being the only places in the club proper that have more normal white light.

There are high tables with equally tall chairs circling a large dance floor, and booths set along two of the walls. But while socializing is a big part of the club, the dancing is the priority. People, some Goths, some punks, and some just people who like to dance are all packed on the dance floor. Weaving through the sea of people are servers, men and women both, dressed in black pants or skirts, and tee-shirts that have "Taratarus" written across the chest in red lettering. Likewise there are security people at the door and mixed through the club, in similar outfits, only their shirts have "SECURITY" on the back.

Nadal enters the club only after quite a bit of hassle from the doorman. He has already learned that this is the establishment where his sister works. His endeavors to find her have taken him to such model establishments such as Biddy Flannigan's Irish Pub, Orchid Lounge, Rapture, Desperado, and Fat Cat billiards. His facial expression is quite obviously mixed between confusion, disgust, and curiosity. His pass with the doorman came with the mention of Nadira's name and a crisp hundred dollar bill. His suit, his demeanor, and even his english tainted with an oxford accent place him as an outcast.

When Nadira had gone about applying for the job of bartender at Tartarus, she had already tried many other places. None of them had quite the right feel. Tartarus, in its dark colors and atmosphere, people clad in corsets, skirts, and jewelry with studs, had seemed like more of a fit than anything… because it was mysterious. These were people, playing a game of identities, and Nadira found it most interesting to watch them as she passed over the social lubrication that caused people to blossom. Leaning up against the bar, the Egyptian woman's clad in a pretty tame outfit in comparison to most clubgoers: a snug-fitting black t-shirt, a long crimson-red skirt, and a black choker at her neck. Sliding a freshly-poured beer towards a gentleman wearing eyeliner at the end of the bar, Nadira leans against the bar a bit, staring out at the patrons, blissfully unaware of the presence of her own flesh and blood in the club.

Nadal spots Nadira pretty quickly from her place behind the bar. He mashes his way through the crowd after polite means are ignored. He keeps his hands close to his body as the level of his discomfort grows. It is quite obvious to him that these people are outcasts who are very much unproductive. In the world that he thrives in it is the outcasts who can most change society. This is if they are not sidetracked in that mission by media, sin, and poor leadership. Once he makes his way up against the bar to the best spot for which she doesn't look. He leans across and rudely pounds his knuckles against the bar. "Excuse me, Excuse me, I would very much appreciate a glass of cranberry juice." He keeps his look stern as he takes in his sisters outfit. The perfect contrast to his own suit and tie. The moment she realizes who he is is the first smile the man has had in a long time.

Hearing the knocking on the bar, Nadira's certain it's likely just another asshole wanting attention. And cranberry juice? The voice was all too familiar, and she turns to look where the voice was coming from. Her hand grips the bar as her eyes widen in surprise. It's shock at first, and then she smiles. "Nadal." She murmurs, but withholds more reaction. She moves, filling a glass up with cranberry juice before walking over towards him, sliding the glass over to him.

As Nadira moves in closer Nadal softly taps the top of her hand with his. His palm is no longer the soft palm of a desk employee. Instead it is rough and scarred from labors of some form or another. This sign is something that Nadira would have never seen before in her brother. He pays no attention to any of her reactions instead his eyes drift to hers with his usual charming style. "My sister it seems you are well." The words are lipped more then spoken to try and override the noise level of the club. His free hand then slowly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a manila envelope folded in two. Its contents are several loose pieces of stone jewelry. To someone without the background of the Kamir's they are of no value. Instead this artifacts date from the time of Mesopotamia and have the crest of an obscure king. The origin is obviously from their parents.

The hand is noted with careful concern, Nadira's dark eyes scanning her brother to determine his own well-being. Whatever she finds, it's enough as she moves to take the envelope, noting the contents inside. A soft breath is released, a sigh of relief and she quickly looks to Nadal. "They are alright?" One of the pieces is removed, her fingers brushing over the stone softly, almost respectfully.

Nadal quickly shifts his eyes away and to the left. He takes in a deep breath and musters a very fake smile. "Father is sick but shall soon recover I am certain. Another mild case of exhaustion from the desert." The reality being much starker as their father has contracted a very painful bronchial infection. "Mother is well but very much worried about you." Again the words are lipped more then spoken to overtake the noise of the club. "It is you that we are all most concerned about."

Nadira purses her lips, a slight frown touching on them as she notes the smile. She knows what it looks like when her brother isn't telling the whole truth, which tells her just enough about her father's condition. She looks down for a moment before focusing on her brother once again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell anyone." The manilla envelope is slid back over towards Nadal, her fingers lingering there before releasing it. "I'm not sure how you found me, Nadal, how you knew to come here." There's a small pause. "As you can see, I'm alive and well. No need for concern."

Nadal quickly turns sullen his palm slapping against the counter before sliding the envelope back. His other hand continues to rest its palm on her knuckles. "This is not an excuse for family." His eyes shift through the club a scornful disgust vividly apparent. "I will be here for a couple of months then we shall return home together." The biting demands are reminiscent of their father. Who has been trained in such misogynistic gestures by his environment. "So come lets us leave this place and find somewhere suitable to talk."

Nadira's eyes harden and she moves, hands taking a few glasses from the bar and putting them where they belong, a slight distraction. "You do not understand why I left, brother. Think for a moment. You know me most of all, Nadal. If I left the country without warning, what would that mean?" Her eyes narrow. "I will not be returning to Egypt with you. You will not tell our parents that you have seen me, but you will tell them you received word from me and that I am well. Do you understand?" Her voice is firm, but tinged with something akin to fear.

Nadal's brow furls as he reaches out to grab Nadira by the wrist. Which quickly sets the bars security staff into motion around him. "This is not the place to talk about these things. Now come sister." It isn't but a few seconds longer that one of the guards is prying Nadal's hand away. He quickly begins to jerk and try to pull free. Which leads to an even larger confrontation. "Unhand me you filthy bastard!" The guard jerks him tighter about the wrists. "No it is time for you to leave." Nadal whips away to stare at his sister awaiting her reaction.

"It's alright, he's with me. He didn't mean to cause trouble." Nadira nods to the security, her eyes focusing on Nadal once more. "Let me talk to someone, see if they can handle the rest of the evening without me and then we'll go talk, alright?" She looks at him seriously. "Please."

Nadal nods in deference to Nadira's request. Then his hands quickly fold in front of his body as he is let go. He stares down a couple of the massive men and hurls a few obscenities in Egyptian under his breath. Then patiently waits on his sister to return with good news.

Nadira gives Nadal one more imploring gaze before she moves away, heading to the end of the bar where another bartender works. There's a bit of hushed conversation, Nadira looking apologetic, and then she moves, reaching over to where a small section of the bar opens up. She slips out from behind it, peering towards her brother. "Let us go talk."

Nadal nods in agreement with a smile fueled by a sense of victory. He moves in behind Nadira quite displeased how many people touch her. The touching is mostly unintentional and normal for a club but still upsetting to Nadal. Once they reach the parking lot he again reaches for her wrist to pull her into a tight hug. "I have missed you very much sister." His grip around her holds tight as he tries to rock her in his grasp. He plants a small kiss atop of her head a deep long breath rushing from his chest. "Father will be so happy to hear you are well."

With the club out of the way and them being in more audible surroundings, Nadira's able to focus more. She wraps her arms around her brother, letting out another soft breath. "You must know that I am eternally sorry that I could not say anything. Do not hold it against me. I am alright, and that is what matters, isn't it?" She murmurs. Shutting her eyes, she tries to formulate her words. How could she explain?

Nadal cradles her there in his arms clutching tightly. "It is ok, we all have a duty to what we must do for Allah's will. Things will be better now I have money enough so you no longer have to work in such sin. We shall soon enough be able to leave this place when my business here is done. You are right we shouldn't return to Egypt perhaps Libya or Syria we can meet our parents their." He speaks with the enthusiasm of a unrealistic teenager.

Leaning her head against her brother's chest, Nadira lets out a breath, then inhales deeply. "Nadal, I cannot return. I cannot go home. You must understand that there was a reason I left. It was not safe there. Not in Egypt, and not likely Libya or Syria as well. It is safer for me here, my brother. You have to understand, it is safer for me here." There's a pause, and Nadira murmurs in a softer tone. "And I like my job."

Nadal snorts in derision as she speaks up about the job. He then brushes off the other concerns as men have the tendency to do. "It is fine we will talk more about our return later." He then leans in again and kisses the top of her head. "So where can we find you some appropriate clothing and perhaps have a meal? You do not look like you eat well. I have plenty of money we can go wherever you wish."

"This is fine to wear. It's nothing bad!" Nadira protests. Considering, it's one of her tamer outfits. She'd gotten lucky Nadal showed up tonight as opposed to some other night. "I wouldn't mind a meal, though. I don't care where." She lets out another breath. "Nadal, you have to understand that this is serious. Do not tell anyone back home that you've seen me."

Nadal crosses his arms across his chest in defiance. "Yes well this is your city we shall find somewhere to eat. Your outfit could be worse but you are much more beautiful then the women of this city. You have no need to dress like them." As you speak about not telling anyone he lets out a slight shrug then shifts his eyes away. "Only if you agree to call father when we get back to my hotel. Then we shall start looking for a place for us to live."

The compliment earns a small smile, but it soon disappears. "I've already got a place to live, so you don't need to worry about me." She explains quickly, moving to focus on the more serious matter at hand. "Nadal," Nadira begins, lips pursed as she stands back from her brother a bit. "I cannot call him. When I said it wasn't safe for me there, I meant it. If I could have called, don't you think I would have? I don't want to put anyone in danger." There's a long pause, and Nadira shifts from foot to foot, uncomfortable. "How bad off is he?"

Instead of answering the question directly about their father Nadal pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He keeps his eyes glanced downward as he goes through the motions of lighting up. "Well he is not well sister. Only Allah knows for sure what his fate may be. If you do not call our parents then I swear to you that I will put an ad in the Cairo Gazette of you being in NYC." He looks up flashing you a tempestuous dare on the matter. "Some things are not negotiable." His hand finally slides the pack away into his pocket. "I was thinking perhaps we shall find an apartment big enough for the both of us. My organization will pay for the rent and expenses. It will also keep me from sticking out too much Americans do not care much for muslim men who reside alone."

Now Nadira's tense. Her eyes flicker to Nadal and his cigarette. She never liked smoking. It was a practice she disapproved of. The threat is not taken lightly, but it's more of the fact that her father was likely worse off than she was first led to believe. "I will talk to them. Briefly. From the hotel phone." She mentally prayed that there were no wiretaps at home, that they weren't clever enough to think of doing that. She wasn't sure how aggressively they'd pursue. "It's understandable for Muslim men to reside alone if they have no relatives in the area." She states, still a little on edge. He had made one threat already, who knows what other threats he might make. "I like the apartment I have… and it warrants me some privacy, a good space of my own. Modern Americans don't live with their family unless they really have to these days."

Nadal takes a long drag from his cigarette. A cruel tinkle in his eye as you agree to call home. "Yes well see you are still a loving daughter. Allah has not forgotten your soul sister." The words are spoken as he lets out lungs full of smoke." He flicks the ashes onto the ground as he finally lifts his eyes upward again. "Perhaps I could bribe you to come to my way of thinking on the matter. I have some concerns about living alone much like your concerns about contacting home. Say name your price I will see what I can do." He takes another long drag as he stares at you with contentment. "Never forget we are not Americans we are Egyptians. In either light I am happy to have found you my sister."

"Egyptian or not, we must fit in. And we both don't fit in for more than one reason." However, when Nadal mentions bribing her and his own concerns about living alone, Nadira looks more serious. While she knew what trouble she had gotten into while in Egypt, she knew little of what trouble he could have gotten into. "I'll stay with you, under the condition that I also be permitted to keep my apartment so that I have somewhere to go and be if I need to be alone. Somewhere that can be my space, not just a room I have in an apartment I share with my brother. Is that agreeable?" She looks hopefully at him, but her lips curve into a smile once more. "I am very happy to see you, in spite of the circumstances."

Nadal senses the cracks in his sisters living situation. "Perhaps we can then be neighbors? It would suffice I imagine. You can continue to have your privacy as it concerns your affairs. Though I am certain you are living to your faith." He drops the cigarette then snuffs it out with his toe. A glimmer of teasing sarcasm pulls into a grin across his lips. "Though I have to warn you that I would like you to take this." He pulls out a key from around his neck. He then presses it into Nadira's palm. "Listen this is to a safe deposit box. In that box is a set of documents and a large sum of money. If something happens I need you to go to Canada till things blow over. I cannot talk on the matter more then that. It is just I don't want to leave you with no options."

There's a slight frown at Nadal's verbal jab, but Nadira smirks, eyeing him carefully. "Well, you know me, brother. If you'd really just like to live in the same building, I am not opposed to that." The key, however, is gripped tightly as it's handed to her. "It seems you have plenty to run from as well. I hope you are not in over your head as well."

Nadal shrugs the question about his safety off. "It is not something I can talk about to a neighbor. Only perhaps a room mate could be trusted with such secrets." He wags his finger at you in a teasing sibling manner. "So what is this trouble that you are currently having?" He moves in closer offering you his arm. "You can tell me as we go find something to eat."

The arm is accepted and Nadira moves alongside him, a slight frown on her lips. "There are people in Egypt who are powerful that I have angered. It is why I left in the first place. If I had stayed, our parents might have been in danger as well as they would have gone to them to look for me."

Nadal pats your hand lightly. "So why did you not ask me for help? I have some powerful friends within the religious community. Perhaps there is some way I could help. I am your brother and I would do whatever must be done to protect you." He lets out a deep long sigh of breath while walking alongside you. "So what is the problem?"

"They would have killed me, Nadal. They wanted me to kill someone." Nadira frowns, eyes shifting to the ground as they walk. "Powerful friends or not, these are not the kindest of people to deal with when angered."

Nadal snorts as he leans into Nadira and presses his head near her ear. "You seem to forget we are very powerful people just as well. So how is that here I mean you have kept your secrets a secret right? You know we cannot trust these people. It is not right for anyone to know outside of our family if we can help it." He tugs your arm softly as they walk. "Yes well?"

"They found out about my ability and wanted to use it. I am not making the same mistake. Things are very different here, though. Not as much fear. People are more comfortable with these abilities, with having them. There are some dangerous groups… I've seen them firsthand." Nadira clearly remembers how she was nearly blown away with the bomb placed in the ice cream truck near her, all thanks to Humanis First. "But I am keeping it quiet. I would only let someone know if I trusted them."

Nadal tugs on your arm roughly. "No we can trust no one not here. Not in this place you do not understand. This place still holds a very ugly name to many people from our world. We cannot be trusting to anyone here. Do you understand what I am saying but cannot say sister?" He gives you a dark cold look one that makes it obvious old habits die hard.

"I said I'm being careful, brother. I know what I am doing. I'm not as foolish as you might think." Nadira states, glancing at him as he toughs. "But people can earn trust. Not everyone here would hurt us. Not everyone out there is bad. I've met some very worthy people."

Nadal turns his head and spits. "Listen we cannot discuss this you must understand sister. This people they are not good people. They are sinners and war mongers. You mustn't let this place corrupt you. You have to stay strong sister. Our god and our countrymen will one day prove this point to you. There is more to life then luxury and friends. Family and god are greater these things do not lose sight of that."

There's a frown from Nadira and she pulls her gaze away from her brother. "I know there is more to life, but… you have to understand, they are not all bad. Do not be so ignorant as to think that everyone is a war monger or a heathen. There are many good people here, people worthy of many things. Men and women alike."

Nadal nods his head as his facial expression tenses up. "I do understand. I have faith in all that you do sister. No matter what I am always on your side remember that? There is no one who would do harm to you that could escape my wrath. Here or home it doesn't matter Allah has granted me a gift to be used to protect you. I love you sister our parents love you. This is what matters but to not let father know you love him in return. He would forever be tormented." He reaches down patting your arm warmly.

There's a small nod. "It's a risk I'll have to take, then." Nadira murmurs, leaning in against her brother as they walk. "I know you'll look out for me. Just… be careful. I don't know how bad things are back there and what will happen if they show up here…"

Nadal runs his tongue over his gums as they walk along. "We shall see there is something else I want to ask you about. Do you know people from that bar who sell drugs?" He lets out a deep breath as he tries to be as dismissive of the current topic as possible.

There's a bit of a wide-eyed look at the suggestion, and Nadira shakes her head. "No one I've run across. The people I work with are good people, I've never seen anything like that. If anyone did something like that, it might just be some of the customers… and even then, nothing I've seen."

Nadal nods his head slowly. "Yes well if you run across something like that let me know?" His eyes again divert and shuttle down to the sidewalk. "I have some friends who need to find people." He brightens up and then smiles lightly. "So tell me of your life here? What have you been up to?"

There's a slow nod. "I'll let you know." Nadira murmurs, but eyes him for a moment. His question on her life, though, causes her a bit of a laugh. "I've made a few friends. I've seen a great deal of the city and explored it… it can be a beautiful city, at times."

Nadal responds with a smile. "That is very good to hear sister. So how much is it going to cost me to be your neighbor?" He smiles as he walks scuffling his feet along the pavement. "All the cities of the world can be both beautiful and deadly. It is typically the beauty that blinds people to the deadly. So I do hope you are careful. So what else has happened with you? Have you been involved in any of these evolution organizations?"

"Ah, no, I've steered clear of them. I was near a bomb that happened when an anti-Evolved organization attacked, but I was saved. I don't know anything about the different organizations out there, I'm afraid. I wouldn't know which ones to trust." Nadira murmurs.

Nadal pulls open the door to the restaurant that Nadira guided him to. He holds it open for her while suspiciously eyeing the other passersby. "Well lets eat for now. The other things they will come with time." He gives her a forced smile and places a hand on her back as she enters the building.

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