004 - deja vu [backdated to yesterday]
[Anyone on either side of Mal's room (7.05) will hear a voice calling "Dom?" After a moment, Mal knocks over her communicator, switching it on, and the Barge video feed is treated to a dining-table's-eye-view of Mal pacing around her room, clearly looking for someone. She vanishes off camera and there's the sound of a door opening, followed by a
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Madam? Is everything all-right?
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That is a very good question.
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Is it one that merits an answer? [Angelica coughs slightly and smooths her skirts, feeling just a little awkward at Mal's reaction to her.] I live in the room beside yours and heard you calling for your - [Husband. Husband husband husband.] Well, someone named Dom.
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I don't suppose you've seen-a fair-haired man, about so tall, late thirties, young-looking for his age...
[She trails off, hope decreasing. Then with exasperation:]
What is this place?
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It is....[Awkward pause.] It is called the Barge.
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[In her pocket, her hand tightens around the metal top.]
I think I may not be after all.
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[She looks down the corridor and then back towards Mal.]
Some inhabitants simply wake and find themselves here, some are brought here just before the moment of death, while there are others still who choose to come here. It is meant to be a place of redemption - a way to change one's character and rectify the mistakes of the past.
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So what am I doing here then? I didn't ... we both agreed ...
[Her hand rises to her mouth and she looks extremely worried.]
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At any rate, Angelica decides not to tell Mal that she knows her. Not yet anyway.]
Madam, I cannot say for certain why you are here, but perhaps it is best not to fret. If there has been a mistake, then you will be sent home. [She gestures to her cabin next door.] May I be so bold as to invite you into my cabin for a cup of tea?
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Very well. Thank you; that's very kind. I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name.
[She steps outside into the corridor and closes her door behind her, following Angelica where she goes.]
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I am Angelica Sexby, madam. [She steps inside and lets Mal decide whether to follow her or not as she searches for her kettle.]
Do make yourself comfortable whilst I make the tea.
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Are all the quarters here so particularly suited to their inhabitants?
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[Kettle on the fireplace, Angelica takes a seat at her table and wipes her hands on skirts.]
There are seven levels containing the cabins, each with a room designed for some purpose, whether functional or recreational. Library, infirmary, dining hall, gymnasium, a room for washing clothes, and so on and so forth. Though there are many who dwell here, each from different backgrounds and other worlds at times, are two kinds of people who dwell aboard this ship - those who are here to be redeemed, and those who are here to do the redeeming.
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[Mal suspects an answer. But it doesn't make sense to her; what has she done? She and Dom had agreed together to take the kick out of Limbo, to die there together so that they would live in the real world. Except-he's not here, this isn't their home, and to make matters worse, she isn't dreaming, if her totem is true-and of the last, she has every confidence. Was the dream-sharing itself a crime of some kind? Surely an extraction or two was neither here nor there. Of course, this could all be some ridiculous mad fable spun by a woman who believed herself to be a well-to-do English lady of the mid-1600s. Which still left further unanswered questions.]
And which, if I may ask, are you?
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[The kettle begins to steam, Angelica rising to her feet and pouring them their tea. She continues her explanation as she works,] You've come in the middle of a flood. Floods are an even stranger occurrence here upon the Barge, when all sorts of bizarre magick disrupts the normalcy of the ship.
I fear you are not meant to be here, and so are neither.
[Angelica sets a cup of tea on the table for Mal.] I do not keep milk, but sugar?
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[This said almost automatically. Normally she'd have taken sugar, but this is one less opportunity for her drink to be adulterated. And what Angelica is saying already sounds mad enough as it is. She wraps her hands around the cup, trying to ground herself with the sensation of heat on her palms.]
And am I to be trapped here then? Away from my life, my work, my husband, my children? Or will this pass, and will I wake in my own room again with no memory of this? Or is there another possibility I have not yet guessed at?
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