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[nourfk]

“I feel very small. I don't understand. I have so much courage, fire, energy, for many things, yet I get so hurt, so wounded by small things.”

Anaïs Nin, from nearer the moon: the previously unpublished unexpurgated diary,1937-1939

[nourfk]

May Calamawy as Layla El-Faouly / Scarlet Scarab Moon Knight | 2022

[nourfk]

Crap. It was always hard to accept a newsflash due to her ramblings. Nour tended to word vomit when she got nervous, but it was hard to figure out exactly why she did it now. Was it really because of Phoenix or her utter embarrassment of meeting with the gravel beneath her only moments before? It has to be both, Nour resolved, heaving in a deep breath. Struck with embarrassment, her gaze gets a bit shifty, finding it difficult to look at her for too long. "Yes and no," she nods. "I guess, in comparison, you could say I am. I've been here for..." she hums, trying to add the years together quickly. "Over fifteen years. Something like that." While Nour wasn't a stranger to telling people how long she'd lived in Stillwater, it didn't make it easier. It always stung to remember just how long it's been since she's seen her family and the last time she's seen her entire family in person. "Nour," she adds, smiling.

Surprised by the woman's rather bold and brazen statement, Phoenix could feel her eyes instinctively widen as the compliment left her lips. Truthfully, it was nice to know that she had made such an impression. After spending so many years thinking she'd never amount to anything, here she was living in her dream state, being someone who hadn't managed to fade into the background in a town full of somebodies and nobodies.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, but I'm flattered nonetheless. My name's Phoenix. I've lived in Stillwater a little less than a year now. Are you from around here?"

[nourfk]

Nour couldn't deny that she felt a bit intimidated by Joselia. She was so young and seemed so sure of herself with an identity to be envied. Although she had a distaste for the art form, she found those within this community(?) to have this certain air she found difficult to obtain. It was confident and daring. She felt this entering the shop, but when Joselia pulled her into the back, she felt it even more. Even though Nour was starting to see her as a reflection of all of her shortcomings, she was determined to keep it from getting in between them. It seemed dramatic, but Nour found it difficult to keep her insecurities at bay. These days, all it wanted to do was keep her from swimming.

She laughs, envisioning men with tattoos, doodling in a notebook. "Well, when you put it like that... this is just like daycare, isn't it?" she grins. Nour then brings the white paper bag she was holding in view, holding it out for her to take. "Hopefully, you're a fan of pie. It's from Ruby's."

Joselia didn't have a lot of women in her life. Other than her mother, who... wasn't so much in her life anymore, Jo found herself unintentionally steering clear of femmes and feminine energy. She had a way with men, whether they were her father or her brothers or guys in the MC-- they were easy, Joselia knew what they wanted... but women required a greater deal of self-reflection, an activity that Joselia purposely avoided. Still, it was lonely. She'd connected with Phoenix, who had been a godsend (if she believed in that kind of shit), and her friendship had begun to chip away at Joselia's notion that she wasn't any good at talking to women beyond one-night stands.

Meeting Nour felt like the next piece of the puzzle. Where Phoenix and Joselia fell into step easily thanks to shared experience, Nour was different entirely... which is why Joselia was shocked to see Nour floating through her door. "Well, welcome!" Joselia said, pushing off of the counter and standing to drape an arm around Nour's neck. Her smile grew at the apparent discomfort on her friend's face, and Joselia took the opportunity to lead her to the sitting room in the back. It was still just as gaudy as the front, with sketches and pin-up girls and whatever weird fucking 'vintage' decor the guys brought in littering the walls, but it was currently unoccupied. "It's not so bad," she promised, taking a seat cross-legged on the black leather seattee and motioning for Nour to do the same. "I mean, you'll get used to it." She dropped her voice and leaned in, smirking as she confessed, "The guys have to make it seem super badass to make up for the fact that they sit around doodling all day. Fragile masculinity's a bitch."

[nourfk]

She's taken aback by his question but takes a moment to really think about it. She's not sure why she has to take a second to decide whether or not she is enjoying all of this 'role play,' but it doesn't take long for her to decide that she does. Even though she was suffering from the repercussions of being the murderer, Nour took a liking not having to be in her own shoes for a day. Still, it was hard to deny keeping her own personal feelings under the guise of it playing a part. She was trying not to think so much about it now.

Amused by his quick thinking and backtracking of breaking out of character, Nour can only find herself smiling in response. She's unsure what to say at first, deciding after a few moments to keep up with the act for a bit. "Well, it feels cheap now to piggyback on that sentiment... but I'm failing to come up with a better excuse. If we're not pointing the finger at the help...," she pauses, gesturing between the two of them. "By the way, I may be connected to the family, but I didn't start out that way... I know my roots," she whispers, laying her hand beside her mouth for dramatics. "My money is still on the aristocrat." Nour wants to say more but stops herself. If she speaks anymore about people being desperate for money, it'd be hard to defend herself— or Clara, that is. She then breaks into a soft grin, relaxing her shoulders. "And I do enjoy it, more or less. I'm Nour, by the way," she adds, extending her hand.

Another drag from his cigarette and a beat of silence later, Nick purses his lips, smoke expelling. "Be honest, are you into all this?" Though not usually a cynic, he found himself feeling exceptionally morose for some reason. Couldn't shake the lingering feeling that something bad was going to happen. It was strange to be in front of a crowd of people, and not behind the bar. It was frequently his social shield; he loved his ability to hide, there. Be was so well-known there, often overlooked — a fixture. But now, when everyone was looking at everyone, even under the guise of a game, he felt paranoid, and uneasy, and tense. Hence, stalking around outdoors, all but scowling, and now likely ruining someone else's fun.

"Nah, sorry, forget I said that," Nick shook his head, like he could shake his thoughts away like an etch-a-sketch. "Everyone always suspects the help. Like we've all got ulterior motives or something. What's up with that?" He flashes a grin in earnest, all teeth but no sincerity, and hopes his counterpart can forgive his transgression. "Alright, let's practice your accusation speech."

[nourfk]

As much as Nour was desperate to pretend that she met Dee under different circumstances, the weight of her guilt was simply too much for her to consider otherwise. She felt awful. He was clearly confused, and the desire to be liked by him begged to tell the truth. A part of her regretted meeting him in such a vulnerable way and wished he was just a little bit more awful.

"Before... uh, nothing. I've been here for a bit longer than a couple of years... we're actually coming up on year nine." She's a bit shy when she says it, but it's really because saying the years out like that was sort of a wake-up call. Nour realizes the length of time she's spent being a mail courier, and it leaves a sour taste in her mouth. Had she really been here for that long? Was she really going to make it to year ten? "I was in nursing school before this," she nods, looking off to the side. "It... uh," she gulps, immediately uncomfortable even mentioning her time there. "It wasn't really meant for me." She meets his gaze again, her grip on her lunch bag getting tighter.

Not much. Dee took that with a tired nod and a needful drag, jaw a little tighter. Wasn't any kinda surprise, right. "Appreciate the honesty." He meant that, really; Even though Nour was just doing delivery, like she'd said, she'd know better than he would how unlikely a real answer was. Kinder to admit the facts of the thing than spin too-hopeful bullshit. "Yeah, it's - it all went through a whole lotta hands, I guess..." Still. He'd just had to ask.

At least he wasn't alone, waiting on whatever the postmaster probably wouldn't turn up. Cheeks hollowing, he took that smoke in, let it slip away slow as Nour talked work. Maybe he just kept catching Nour on bad days, but... that uneasy edge made it hard to picture her surviving most of the jobs that came to mind. Like Elly's, with all those people to deal with, tourists, quick to get pissed and bitch over nothing. Waiting tables, running a till at Crawford's, pouring drinks - same reason. The post office, all that walking, alone - seemed a good fit, with what she'd shown so far. Peaceful. No rush. Hardly any assholes to put up with, he'd think. And a mental game, sure, she seemed like she'd be into that sorta thing. "Cool. Well, hope they stay good to you. Nothing like a shitty boss to fuck up a solid gig." He'd had his share. Nour'd have it worse. "What'd you do before?" Just a couple years, she'd said - she seemed about him and Eloise's age, thereabouts. Left a lot of time to be doing something else. Dreaming of something else, like Elly always was...

[nourfk]

When & Where: "Outside of The Rabbit Hole" ...midday!

🤩 @hopefms

It wasn't always a priority for Nour to set aside money for new clothes. If anything, it was (at least) the fourth thing on her list of financial priorities. Her main focus was always to send money back home, so when she came to realize there was some cash left over for that new coat she was eying at The Rabbit Hole, Nour knew she couldn't pass it up. It wasn't like her to pass the signs she looked for in life. She loved clothes, she loved fashion— even if that extra cash could've gone to something more productive, it'd be hard to convince her otherwise. All Nour could think about was styling that coat. She figured it'd look so great with both jeans and a maxi skirt, smiling to herself at the vision. However, just as she was about to enter the shop, she noticed someone a few feet away. There wasn't anything necessarily interesting about what she was doing— but Nour couldn't shake her curiosity. When she finally turned to show her face, her face dropped. Hope Harris? The Hope Harris? In Stillwater? Her excitement got ahead of her, moving towards the redhead before her conscience reminded her of what manners were. "...Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, but... are you Hope Harris?" she greets shyly.

[nourfk]

I just need to find him. Nour smiled, but she was sure Elly was too wrapped up in finding Dee to figure that her eyes said otherwise. As she started looking amongst the crowd, Nour began panicking. Every fiber in her being was begging her to escape. She started to reason that Elly would understand if she told her she wasn't feeling well. That they always had 'next time.' As far as she knew, Nour was as excited to meet Dee as much as Elly wanted them to meet. She had to be happy. But she wasn't— and she knew she'd feel this way, one way or another, but she never imagined it'd be this soon. It was a silly thought, of course. Nour had known Dee for a few months now, but she supposed it was her own delusion that protected her from what was real. And now, it was coming to bite her in the ass.

She spotted him almost the same time Elly did. She immediately looks away, hoping he wouldn't spot her right away. Nour turns off to the side as he makes his way closer, fixing her hair and outfit nervously. She heaves a deep breath as they start speaking, turning slowly with a pressed grin. Their eyes meet and Nour responds by raising her brows in an effort to seem surprised. She was a good liar, but that only proved to be true in letters and over the phone when she'd talk to her parents. She didn't really know if that was also true in person. "Oh!" she pulls back, pointing at him. Her heart starts beating fast, but she ignores it. Or, at least, she tries. "Dee? —Wait, you're that Dee?" Every line made her stomach churn, her smile falling every time she didn't have to speak. @eloisemeadows

"I managed to convince him to come along." Eloise was outright glowing, thrilled at the idea of introducing her friend to the great love that she'd only been able to tell Nour about. Their friendship wasn't new now, though it had fallen in the time after Dee had shipped off to Vietnam; Elly was pretty certain she'd mentioned Nour in her letters, though wasn't sure if Dee would remember. They'd become fast friends, and Elly was practically buzzing with excitement at the idea of finally being able to introduce two of the most important people in her life. "We all know I love a good myster, even if I think I might be better at reading them than solving them. Anyway, yes, he's here, I just need to find him.." She'd slipped away to the restroom, lost track of him, but he shouldn't be too hard to track down; the party might be bigger and more bustling than she'd originally envisioned, but she kew she'd easily be able to pinpoint his face in the crowd. Just as expected, he was not far off and Eloise's smile brightened as she held up a hand to wave him over. "I mentioned you a few times, in my letters. Mostly just referring to you as a new friend, but I think I mentioned your name a few times."

@dee-voss

[nourfk]

Nour wasn't sure why she asked him that. She was painfully aware that the more she stuck around, the more guilt she felt, and the more guilt she felt, the harder it'd be to hide the truth. She didn't always feel that way, but meeting Dee changed everything. At first, it started with an episode of overthinking. She realized what was so great about him the day after meeting him. She had wondered if Elly's words of him were true, but it didn't take more than a few minutes for Nour to agree. Sure, one could say she was rushing to place him on some pedestal, but Nour would argue that it was hard to find people, let alone a man, to even have a fraction of his kindness. The idea weighed on her so heavily that she felt terrible now for her flighty reputation. She wanted to help him in any way she could (within reason, of course), but the moment he spoke of mail, Nour felt that same chill go up her spine.

Still, it didn't click right away. Of course, it was a mail issue. They were in the kingdom of letters and parcels. Nour would have nightmares and dreams about this place. That much didn't surprise her. It was when he continued that Nour began putting things together. Her last letter must've left only a few days before Dee's arrival. The timing was all off. She breathed —finally, but it didn't help. She found it difficult to relax, haunted by the letters. Nour hoped that now that Dee was here and there were no more letters to be sent, what she had done would just disappear. It would go away and she'd never have to face the music. But now, the whole damn band was in her face.

"—Right," she nods, apologetic. There's a beat. "The most we can do is make a few calls, but you're right... There's not much we can do." Another beat. "The postmaster might know more, though. I guess there's some truth to just being the one that delivers them." She rubs the back of her neck, persistent in the belief that Dee could feel the awkward tension between them. She could even hear it in his words and the way he shifted his gaze just as much as her. Trying to make her more comfortable, no doubt. "For a couple of years now, yeah," she nods. "If you're not too bothered by either of those things, it's more of a mental game, with the memorizing and the time you have to yourself. It can be nice if it suits you."

Yeah, no, not really. Man - sounded like Nour'd had a long damn day already, the kind that left you drifting, coasting through conversations. Dee knew the type, for sure. "So long as it got done, hey?" Shelves, fridges, lunch bags. They all needed stocking.

He half-shrugged as she asked after Janine, and... that. "Ah, I don't - it's just..." What was it, exactly? Explaining this whole thing a second time around wasn't any easier. "Some shit to do with the mail," he decided on, feeling stupidly obvious. Dee started digging his smokes out, fingers itching for something, anything to do. "I don't know if anybody can do much of anything about that, like... letters get lost, right. It happens." Especially when they had so far to go. Then again, if Elly's letters had stopped showing after he got shipped to Japan, with the change of address, change of country, then that'd make some kinda sense. But her mail had followed him from basic to 'Nam and all over there, through a warzone, without any trouble. And - Christ, none of the explanations he'd been trying to fit into the middle of this mess really sat right.

Wasn't Nour's problem, anyway. Sliding a cigarette from his pack, Dee clicked that old lighter. "This where you work, then?" Obvious, again; why else would they have her lunch behind the desk? But small talk was just that: small. He'd stopped looking at her, even - seeing as it didn't seem to do her anything but discomfort, alright - to let his eyes wander, idly, across the PO boxes and pictures on the walls. "Seems like an alright sorta deal. If the weather and the dogs are decent..." Small, small talk.

[nourfk]

Nour never thought she'd ever come face to face with a tattoo shop. The sentiment was a bit dramatic, but she couldn't help but feel so out of place just standing in front of it. She had been eying it from across the street for a while, a treat in hand for her new friend, Joselia. It was a passing invitation, mentioning that she should "stop by and say hello" when they talked about each other's workplaces. Nour couldn't help but want to invest herself by actually following through with wanting to see someone again, even if her anxious mind was telling her, 'That's just what people say.' Joselia was kind and friendly when she met her, so even if she didn't mean it and was only looking for someone to work on... Nour still wanted to seem genuine. She was younger and so much different than her, but that was the fun part— scary but fun.

After walking through the doors with her treat, it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't told her she wasn't actually a customer— or planned to be one. The realization made her sink, but she smiled anyway and shook her head in response. "Actually, I came to just stop by and say hi," she grinned. "I was in the neighborhood and always wondered what this place looked like inside." She looks around, visibly uncomfortable. She tried to hide it, but her slight fear of needles started to kick in. "It's... kind of scary," she whispers the last bit, the corner of her lips turning upwards with knitted brows.

open starter, at the joint tattoo + piercing, just before 11 p.m. @swstarters

Weekdays were always slow, and after the four-hour back piece she'd completed this afternoon, Joselia was grateful for a breather. Cigarette dangling between her lips, she propped her boots up on the desk and doodled in the flash book. Her dad had always reckoned Joselia was some kind of artist, what with her 'bohemian soul', but she was twenty-one before she discovered her love for visual art. A late bloomer, or maybe she just never had time for artistic pursuits in between Daddy's ups and downs.

When the front door jingled open, Joselia peered up from her sketchbook and surveyed the customer. She leaned forward, lips curling upwards. "Please tell me you've got something nasty that needs to be covered up," she teased. "What is it-- an ex's name? A mom heart?"

[nourfk]

  ― Billy-Ray Belcourt, A History of My Brief Body

[text ID: To love someone is firstly to confess: I’m prepared to be devastated by you.]

[nourfk]

Embarrassed, Nour shakes her head in a hurried effort to explain herself. "Oh... I might've eaten there once, but I've definitely seen you at Grooves. I love it there. I go there monthly, I'm sure... but yeah, I guess I just remember because you've got a unique look, and people like you tend to be memorable..." she rambles, quickly realizing her words were not making the best first impression. The woman before her was... well... good-looking, and that sort of effect always caused Nour's thought process to run off course. Not to mention her clumsy fall, which she was still reeling from. She wanted to tell her she had a good memory, but it seemed like such a dishonest cop-out. Still, she couldn't help but tack onto her ramblings. "—Sorry, I mean... I just meant that I've got a good memory and remember things about people... sometimes." Did I say that already?

While she could certainly empathize with the other woman, Phoenix knew that she would have died of embarrassment had the same thing happened to her. There was nothing like causing a scene in front of others. The brunette's only saving grace was that it had happened before entering the home.

"I, uh. Yeah, I do." Raking her fingers through her hair, Phoenix found herself smiling shyly. While she hadn't been expecting the question, nor the comment, it was nice to know she'd made an impression on somebody unexpected. "I'm there most days. When I'm not working at Grooves."

[nourfk]

Nour can feel her smile falling thin, lips pressed together in an effort to make her smile seem genuine when she brings him up. It wasn't as though Elly never brought up Dee. In fact, it was one of the many topics they circled around regularly. It was her guilt that made her different as it continued to churn in her gut in painful twists. She feels a stomach ache begin to take precedence when she mentions that he was here— Oh, Allah Yakhtehk. Me... right now. Nour shakes her head, laying her hand across her stomach. "Oh— wow, is he?" she looks around, brows knitted as she feigns, searching the crowd for who Dee 'might' be. "Yeah, I'd... I'd love to," she nods, trying to convince herself that before she fell for Elly and created the mess she made, she was a friend first. ...She was... right? "—Where is he?" she asks timidly, almost hoping that a different Dee would appear.

"I agree. It's definitely fun to play the part, even if on my end that means playing the part badly. I avoided drama and theatrical arts at all costs during schol." No, Eloise had always been the type to prefer to stay out of the spotlight, though something like this was different: it tied right into her interests....and the mystery novels beginning to stack to a precarious height on her nightstand and the party was too bustling for eyes to be solely on her. Speaking of: "I know, I've been so busy with Dee getting back home. It all hapepned so quickly." Extraordinarily quickly, considering Elly hadn't even known that he was coming home at all. That was still a mystery itself that she'd have to unravel, but she was in no hurry to push for answers; they'd come in time (or woudn't). "But being busy isn't an excuse for falling off the face of the planet, so consider this a formal apology. I should be back in orbit soon, and would definitely love to have one of our coffee dates soon. Also, speaking of things I'd love," Eloise's smile ticked up further, and she peeked around the room briefly, "Dee is here, somewhere, and I'd love for you to meet him."

[nourfk]

Nour grins, humored by Lester referring to himself in the third person. "Fair," she nods, finding his sentiments to match her own— and her, as in herself and not Clara Beaumont. When he goes on, Nour smiles a bit more, trying her best not to allude to the fact that Clara has those exact motives. Still, wasn't it easy to accuse a woman of murder? Especially as a woman whose emotions were 'incapable of being contained?' It was probably best to keep pointing fingers in other places. While Nour wasn't competitive, she didn't want to make the guessing game that easy. She found it amusing to play the antagonist, but to say she found it comfortable would be an outright lie. The whispers, the looks— guests wondering if it was Clara made her feel unsettled. She wasn't Clara... but she was still Nour. The same Nour that experienced the same thing herself for far less.

"Harvey?" she questions, brows arching with interest. She recalls her own card, tucked away in her skirt pocket. Clara was dating him; she had to play the part. "Quite the accusation. Though, I suppose it's a fair one. It sort of seems wrong to blame the help. Like we're scapegoats or something." Nour made it a point to include herself in that sentiment. However, considering Clara's affiliation with Harvey, she wasn't sure how well that would carry. Nour wasn't even sure if she even met Harvey yet. It was hard to mingle in such a big crowd like this. It almost made her want to shrivel into a corner and lay low until it was all over.

Nick recognized the woman in that way that he recognized everyone — somewhat, and merely as a product of his job. He wondered if she felt similarly about him, and felt some momentary guilt over not being able to place her name.

"Hmm," he hummed around his cigarette, giving a little nod. He withdrew it, expelled his smoke, then responded. "Maybe Lester Bernd finally wanted to retire, give up on spending his entire life catering to the whims of others." Recognizing he sounded a bit too serious, a bit too close to home, he pivoted with a laugh to her other accusation. "Money is always the fatal motive, isn't it? There's a lot of things I'd do for it." Nick took a moment to check his little note card. Noah. He hadn't paid much attention to his friend tonight, but wouldn't put it past him to totally be the killer and not say a word. "I dunno, my money's on the kid. Seems like a no brainer. Hello, inheritance."

[nourfk]

The 'situation' pertaining to Elly and Dee no longer felt like a 'situation.' It was like the snowball effect, masking itself as little surprises that soon manifested itself as hard ice, rolling down a twelve-story hill, getting bigger until it crushed her. Nour knew the situation she had gotten herself into (and, admittingly, created) would eventually blow up in her face... so she couldn't help but find that this whole 'small town situation' was just karma finding its way back home. Acceptance was nothing but a neighbor.

Nour found comfort in small talk. She was used to it, tallying her 'Hi's' and 'Hellos' on an everyday to-do list. She always talked about the weather or discounts at Crawfords that seemed to excite middle-aged women on her route. Though, before Dee, Nour couldn't manage a single thought. She drew a blank, unable to form a real word until he handed her that lunch bag. She can't fight her smile when he mentions groceries, letting out a chuckle in response. Could she laugh? Was that allowed? "Yeah," she nods, realizing just how tough it was to look him in the eye. She does, however, even if it was only for a moment. "Well— no, not really. My roommate went the next day instead." She's unsure whether or not she owed him an explanation. She didn't, but... she did, in a way. Even just thinking about lying felt like she was handing herself a shovel for that hole she was digging herself. Better not address it, she decides. "Is uh.. Janine helping you out, okay?" she offers instead, half whispering in case she was within listening distance.

Seemed like Nour needed a moment, for some reason or other. So Dee let her have it. His small talk was rusty as hell, anyway. Those burnt-crooked fingers settled into their familiar tremor, sunk in his jacket pocket. Was it that, strumming across the back of his nerves? Or just how her stare kept skipping around, over him, away? Both, maybe. Probably.

"Hey," Dee echoed, when she got there. He glanced over his shoulder at that old clerk, who was doing a real pointed job of delivering what looked like someone's lunch; she set the bag down by the till, gave it a pat-pat, eyed Nour, then Dee, and started off to find the postmaster. Supposedly. "Yeah, I mean - small town." Not that small, but... one post office kinda small, at least. He gave the coincidence a lopsided shrug. Might've mentioned that she didn't have anything to be sorry about, but. Apologies she didn't need to make were already very much a part of the picture he had of Nour, so far. She looked just about cemented in place, so after a moment of his own, hesitating, he took that lunch bag and crossed the floor. Just putting the pieces together. Trying to be helpful, or whatever. "Guess you got those groceries after all, huh?" He held out the bag, with the best smile he could work up for a near-stranger, on short notice. A near-stranger he'd last seen sick with panic in a parking lot.

[nourfk]

It never occurred to Nour that the events that took place on Halloween would ever have to do with her. She has let go of her paranoia since it was birthed during her high school years in Stillwater, deciding to let herself get swallowed by invisibility in hopes of chasing what she was like in her formidable years. Though, at this point, it was hard to determine what she was exactly like back then. Was she a rambunctious child? A little one, free from the ideals placed upon her? Still, in the present day, it helped her get by— it helped her climb out of that hell hole. And so, despite the city-wide curfew and her peers remaining adamant about not being the next victim, Nour thoroughly believed that it didn't matter what she did. She was a master at blending in, at not taking up space— how would this killer ever pick her out of a crowd? Her naive approach, in comparison to everyone else, was all she could cling to. After all, she couldn't let some unhinged psychopath get in the way of her living the life she's worked so hard to create— even if it wasn't the life she wanted.

The new courier at Stillwater Post definitely didn't have the same sentiments— leaving the rest of her route 'undelivered' as soon as the sun started to set. A few other couriers had advised Nour that the neighborhood that was left would understand the delay due to the curfew, but what was another three hours tacked onto her shift? Nour needed the money —she always needed money— and the rest of her peers couldn't understand that. She was an immigrant, and life could not stop. It is also why she found herself at the bus stop at an irregular hour, accompanied by a homeless woman who happened to take space a few feet from the bus stop. It wasn't a comfortable situation, but her company was also a woman, and she found comfort in that.

Hearing footsteps approach her, Nour stiffened and didn't dare to look. It is only when he nears and opens his mouth to speak that she does, relaxing to find a familiar face. She smiles with relief, unaware just how tight she held onto the strap of her bag. "Not alone," she offers, nodding to the woman taking a nap on the bus bench. She slept soundly, shifting on top of the newspaper separating her from the cold bench beneath her. "The bus should be here soon anyway," she checks her watch, looking down the empty street. She turns to face him, crossing her arms against her chest. "I'm more surprised to see you taking the bus. You don't have a car?" she quips, persistent to move from the top of a killer being on the loose. If they didn't talk about it, it wasn't happening.

closed starter ✼ @nourfk where ✼ bus station when ✼ around 8:30pm

What started as an intriguing Halloween soiree turned into some kind of nightmare fuel. How could anyone imagine there was a killer on the loose? Especially one who had the audacity to off the mayor himself. All Louis could think about was the uproar in the mansion, everyone frantically speaking amongst each other and the blinding red and blue lights of police cars arriving at the scene. Before he knew it, he was being questioned only being let go into the wee hours of the morning with a business card, free dinner and a headache. So much for using up the prize.

Louis hoped to God there wasn't going to be another victim in its wake. It had to be an isolated incident, right? News of the tragedy spread like wildfire within the next few hours, with the city issuing a curfew and people bustling about in paranoia and suspicion. Shaking his head, he then checks his wristwatch, brows raising at the time — just past 8:30pm. He wonders if anyone was going to follow this curfew, given many businesses would suffer from closing early. And as he turns the street, he recognizes Nour waiting at the bus stop, looking quite unbothered.

"I thought you would've been home by now... Should you even be..." he trails, looking around, not so much as a soul in sight. "...out here alone?" He was one to talk.

[nourfk]

"You're always forgetting Farouk," Dan says, shaking his head with a laugh. He crosses his arms over his large belly, waving his hand for her to 'get.' "I'll wait here, just hurry up and don't forget anything else!" The twang in his accent makes Nour smile, nodding her head with apologies as she turns back to face the building, making her way back. It wasn't often that Nour would take the offer for a ride home. She was raised to not take too many favors for fear of bad karma, but Dan wasn't the type to offer rides either. It was... easy pickings— as the Americans say. Fortunately, he was also very understanding when told that she had left her lunch bag behind. Much like a father would be, shaking their leg impatiently as they waited by the car with the engine on.

She's aware Janine will question her return when she makes it inside. Despite her position, she's easily known as the gossip among the staff. It made Nour wary of her, but still, she remained neutral. After all, gossiping was human nature, was it not? Or perhaps Nour couldn't help but indulge a bit herself. Either way, she grew to humanize Janine a bit more with her own understanding. This is why she greets her immediately when she pushes through those doors. "Hey, Janine," her tone hinting at her awareness that 'the joke is on me.' She almost misses what she says in return, something about 'always forgetting things' when she meets eyes with Dieter— catching the unsureness of his wave. "...Hey," she ends up saying, breathless.

Seeing him so suddenly shocked Nour— enough to get lost in his gaze like a deer in headlights. There's a moment of silence that swallows her, dissociating on the spot. She only comes to when Janine taps the counter with her entire hand. "Nour?" she calls out. "Hello?" She shakes her head like she's in a cartoon, eyes blinking as she tries to gather herself. "—Sorry, I—" she clears her throat, unable to look at him for longer than a few seconds. "I'm just surprised to run into you here," she nods, spotting her lunch bag behind the counter. It seemed as though Janine expected her to return, like a mother waiting outside for her kid to come back from running off to the bus in a hurry. She stands there, leg shaking, with either money or their lunch bag in hand, waiting.

"Well, I'll - I can ask the postmaster, I suppose," Janine half-muttered, brows high behind her tortoiseshell glasses as she scrawled down... something or other of what he'd said, or tried to say, on her little memo pad. "No harm in asking, is there?" The click of her pen was, like, bizarrely loud, in the hush of the empty, early-afternoon post office; Dee just half-shrugged, by way of an answer. Then tacked on a "Thank you! Thanks," as the old Stillwater clerk turned and toddled off into the back. She waved one of her bird-boned hands, vaguely. And then she was gone.

The dust settled. The clock ticked. Dee swayed in place, and took a step backwards. Then another, hands jammed in his jacket pockets, fidgeting. What was he hoping for, here? He hadn't really known. Just like he hadn't really known how to put any of the questions he'd come by to... make a little more sense of, at least. It'd been a mistake, thinking it'd be easier to approach the whole fucking thing with a stranger. The way he hadn't been able to, with Elly, not since he got back. Because she'd wanted him back, and - Christ, it was easy to just enjoy that, to soak it in like the late-summer sunshine they were losing, day by day. While Elly was around, at least. But he'd dropped her off at work, and started thinking. Seeing as he had shit all better to do with himself. Not for lack of trying -

The clang of the over-door bell spun his head, and Dee... straightened up, from the tense, ready-to-take-cover clench his shoulders had startled into. Easy. Squinting against that sun, he cocked his head. And waved, loosely, at who'd just come on inside. Nour. From Crawford's. Go figure.

@nourfk