---- Recall start ----

Temple(#3322RAFJL)
Contents:
Rina

Tuesday night, fairly quiet, a retro-80's DJ has commandeered the booth, 
spinning eight minute Pet Shop Boy remixes and filling the place with a grim, 
forced cheeriness that matches the bastard amber gels in the lights.

Rina comes in early, moving without her usual energy and with a slight limp. 
Tonight, her leather jacket stays on, and her eyes stay lowered--almost as if 
she wants to avoid notice for once. She heads for the bar in a wandering path, 
perhaps looking for someone.

Rina pages: Shall we say they had an appointment tonight?
Long distance to Rina: The Priest had thought so. Don't look at me!
From afar, Rina wolf-whistles. :> OK.
Long distance to Rina: The Priest is like Megs that way. It embarrassed me.

The Court is not in session. At their usual table, a single figure plays with a 
collapsing top hat. Spin. Fold. Toss. Spin. Open.

She heads for the table without picking up a drink. The limp fades a little as 
she gets closer, and she glances up: eyes narrowed, watching the man through 
veiled eyes.

The Priest likely notices Rina approaching, but pays her no heed. He spins the 
hat like a warped penny, quickly grabbing it before it topples off the table.

"Having fun?" Her voice is tight under the music.

The Priest shakes his head. "Nah. Bored off my ass. Got a meeting with some 
white girl who's probably running late, and may not even show up." He pops the 
hat to its full height and sets it rakishly on his head. His expression, 
however, is blank and he looks pretty bored.

Rina remains standing, near the table but not too close. "Poor you." She wraps 
one arm around herself, right hand closing over her left upper arm.

The Priest lifts his eyes to her. "So. Gonna sit, or is this one of /those/ 
kinda meetings?"

Rina jerks her chin toward the door. "Let's ditch."

The Priest rolls his shoulders and rises from his chair. "Your carriage 
awaits," he says, in the momentary quiet before Bananarama starts their 
legendary cover of 'Venus'. One long arm extends in a flourish toward the door.

She turns to limp out, head down, still holing her arm in that awkward posture.

The Priest follows along behind, starting to play with his hat again. Roll. 
Press. Twirl.

Rina walks out with him, into the relative quiet of the streets.

The Priest slips out the door, stuffing the hat under one arm as he walks. Up 
the street he looks, then down, as he casually follows along. "Lookin' for 
somebody?"

"Just you." Her voice is quiet, almost even despite the traces of fatigue.

The Priest nods, but does not stop surveying the area. "Bum a smoke?" he asks, 
running his thumb idly across his fingertips.

Rina smiles thinly. "I don't, babe."

The Priest bobs his head. "Yeah. Right." He looks around again. "So let's get 
this show on the road."

Rina lifts one shoulder--the unhurt one--and then lets it fall. "I just wanted 
to chat. You know. Find out why you handed me over to your two dear friends."

The Priest shakes his head. "I *told* you. Because you asked for something 
extreme. So I got what you asked for, forgetting in a moment of brain fever 
that giving people what they ask for gets you shot."

Rina's jaw tightens. "I asked for something specific. You failed to deliver. 
/And/ sent those /bastards/ to work me over. I want to know *why*, Priest." She 
stops dead, and turns to confront him; the dark eyes flash against the pallor 
of her face.

The Priest stops himself, returning her look. "They didn't exactly lay out the 
story in advance, okay? They fucked me over, just several magnitudes less. If 
you want to think I plotted that incident out, then why didn't you let your 
friend finish me off, instead of dragging me back here?"

Tension edges the girl's voice, and shows in the hardness around her eyes. 
"Because I /don't/ want to think it, aright?" She closes her eyes for a moment, 
turning her face away. "Christ, Priest, we used to have some /trust/. *Had* to, 
t'do the shit we were." When she looks at him again, brightness glints in her 
eyes, unshed tears catching the light. "Why the hell couldn't you just give me 
what I /asked/ for?"

The Priest stands for a long moment, then turns and heads back toward the club 
abruptly.

"Don't," she says tightly, just loud enough to be heard. She doesn't follow, 
not yet. "Priest--"

The Priest shakes his head, shoulders dropping. "Don't waste y'time expecting 
me t'be decent," he says without turning back. "Cause I'm not."

"Y'know damn well that's not what we're about," she retorts. "I don't need 
/decent/. Not from you." She holds her ground, watching his back with narrowed 
eyes.

You say "You know what I mean."

Rina stands still, closing her eyes for several seconds.

The Priest slumps toward the club doors, not looking back.

She watches him go; the tight expression slowly hardens. When he is gone, she 
turns and limps away.
---- Recall end ----

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