You're not sure what the lady is doing with your disk, and you absently listen to her seemingly endless narrative while you wait. You glance around the room, trying to adjust your eyes to all the red - there are actually quite a lot of lamps around, their rosy glow softening the glaring color somewhat. There are a few pendulums hanging from hooks on the wall. They might be brass, but you can't quite tell from the scarlet film projected onto them by the red surroundings.

"Almost done - although almost is quite relative." The lady remarks slightly. You pause and wonder when Act Five may be.

You pause and wonder for quite some time before you begin to notice the almost imperceptible dimming of the lights in the room. It takes another short while before you realize that there is music in the background; you strain your ears. It sounds like a string ensemble, the screeching drawn-out notes echoing a harrowing melody in the distance.

...what?

Suddenly your train of thought is again disrupted by an unprompted musing about the symbolism of red, lamps and pendulums.

"Well, isn't Slick feeling dramatic today." The lady nonchalantly comments, and by then the lights have nearly all gone out. "Unfortunately, the exact symbolism of red, lamps and pendulums- if there is any to begin with- is a story for another day. I don't think we'll have the chance now, with all these theatrics going on. Oh, Slick."

You blink in the darkness, confused.

Nothing happens, so you blink again.

Then there is the sound of shattering glass, probably from windows you never realized were there- the lamps switch on again, flooding the room with light. You shield your eyes, but you do catch a glimpse of a black shape vaulting onto the ground and knocking over lamps.

"Slick!" The woman scolds. "Please, most guests use the door. It would be nice for you to conform, just to make things more pleasant for everyone."

The man growls something you don't catch. The woman tuts, and you hear the click of a door opening. Slick's growl turns into a soft hiss, barely suppressed. You rub your eyes and try to open them.

"Ah, Snowman!" The redheaded host greets cheerfully. The other woman at the door seems to smile and minces in. She is a much taller and slimmer one, sporting a trenchcoat of the same black colorscheme worn by Slick on the ground. It takes a while to notice the bright green accessories on her coat; a button here, a lining there.

"Good day, Dame Scarlet. I'm here to pick up a little wayward puppy - have you seen him?" Snowman's smile widens, and she releases a puff of smoke from her cigarette holder.

"Damn you, I'm right here!"

"He's also stolen my cigarette lighter, the naughty thing - oh, did you hear something bark?"

You're not really sure what to make of this. Your host, which Snowman addressed as Dame Scarlet, shrugs. Her red curls bounce a little as she does so. But the attention is hardly on her as Slick mutters something rather profane and whips out an iron weapon from somewhere under his own coat- it's a horse hitcher, as evidenced from the equine statuette topping off the weapon. The whole thing glints of metal and danger, not a good turn of events indeed -

Snowman pulls the cigarette holder from her mouth, and Slick lunges with his horse hitcher.

Their weapons clashed in the middle of the room, the cigarette holder mysteriously extending as Slick knocked it down towards the floor. He raised his hitcher for a blow to the head, but Snowman abruptly attacked with what was suddenly a black-and-white lance; Slick backed up, forced to parry.

"Go to 'ell, woman!"

"It'll be lonely down there without your fumbling stupidity, Slick." Snowman flashed to one side, dodging a lunge from her opponent before skewering his coat with her lance. She hoisted Slick into the air, the smaller man hissing and struggling to be let down.

"I for one, won't be missing you. It'll be nice if you'd stuff your grave faster!" Slick shrugged the coat off, twisted the sleeves as his arms left it. Snowman's lance jerked violently to the side, knocking a lamp off its perch.

"Slick!" Dame Scarlet gasped, scandalized. "My furniture!"

Snowman held on fast to her lance, so Slick's coat was unable to pull it free. The article of clothing came free of the lance with a riiiiipp of fabric; Slick threw it behind him on the ground and lunged forward again. Weapons met, and still no reasult was reached.

Snowman laughed as she rolled under a desk, Slick's weapon smashing through a nearby couch. "Pathetic. Is that all you can do?"

"You two!" Dame Scarlet exclaimed, aghast; "Do stop ruining the house!"

You just peek out from your hiding position behind a side table, not sure what to do.

Slick moved around the table, caught Snowman's collar as she emerged. There was a short pause as the two eyeballed each other, glaring daggers of anger and hate. Then Slick hoisted Snowman up by the collar, lips parted in a growl -

"Oh my, oh my. This won't do at all!" Dame Scarlet screeched, clutching at her hair. You could almost see the exclaimation mark of shock and horror above her head - surely you were just imagining things, you'd only get those in cartoons! "My guests - my house, you two! Take this impropriety elsewhere, oh goodness..."

She wedges herself between the two of them, firmly pushing Snowman towards the door.

"Scarlet! What're you -"

"I am a wonderful chaperone as well as an excellent host, Snowman. Now, do have a good day." Dame Scarlet flicks her red-cuffed wrists, and shoves Snowman out the front door. "Now, Slick..."

Slick is busy angrily smashing one of the paintings once hanging on the wall to smithereens. Dame Scarlet sighs and tuts.

There is a flash of blinding ruby light, and he was gone.

Scarlet smoothens the front of her jacket with a drawn-out sigh. "Those two are very tiring guests, unfortunately. I do apologize for their rowdiness. I hope you weren't injured in any way?"

You inch out from behind the side table and shake your head. Dame Scarlet continues to dust off her already-impeccable coat, cordially apologizing for ruining your day. Before you realize it she is holding a broom and dustpan, sweeping together the shattered fragments of lampshade and righting knocked-about furniture as she goes. The springs of the couch Slick had smashed his horse hitcher into are dangling out from the uphlostery, and you feel a pang of sympathy for the piece of furniture.

You awkwardly take a seat on one of the unharmed couches in the room and watch Dame Scarlet do damage control. The occasional glance is thrown at the half-repaired disk. Would this affect the timeline?

"No, it would still be ready by the end of Act Five;" Dame Scarlet comments idly, as if she had read your mind. "Perhaps this little scuffle was carefully planned after all, even if to the rest of us the timing was distastefully horrid."

She falls quiet again, and you suddenly notice a muted banging coming from further within the house.

"Oh." Dame Scarlet replies when you question. "One of my charges must be getting a little rowdy again. She is quite the handful. Do excuse me." She leans the broom and dustpan against the crimson wall and saunters away. You lean back in your seat and try to make yourself comfortable. It might be a long wait.


Scarlet sighs as she strides down one of many corridors.

"Temperamental, this one. But she will learn to behave in due time." She chuckles to herself - an inside joke, probably - and abruptly stops in front of what seems to be an empty wall.

Except that it's no ordinary wall. The dame gestures vaguely towards the section, and there is a hiss before the wall simply...fades from view, revealing a panel of red-tinted glass. A door with no hinges.

On the other side of the panel is a young girl - barely thirteen, her infuriated snarls muted as she slams her fists against the wall. Tendrils of hair have fallen out of her tightly bunned hair, wrapping around the ivory sticks that keep the bun in place or falling down the sides of her narrow face. Seeing Dame Scarlet, the girl retreats from the wall and crosses her arms, a displeased scowl marring her features. She scratches at her neon green uniform with a finger, huffing angrily.

Scarlet sighs and walks towards the glass, reaching out a hand to touch the cool surface-

and she walks through it.

The girl rolls her eyes.

Dame Scarlet chuckles, and copies the younger girl's posture. "Well well well. What are you getting up to this time, my little troublemaker?"

"Same old, same old. I'm hungry!"

"You just had lunch at twelve."

"Well, I want to go out for a walk!"

"Study time isn't over yet."

"Screw study time! No kid in their right mind studies for six hours straight!"

"You do." Scarlet points out. "You've been using that argument every single time. You know it isn't true, and you're still alive to prove it."

"Come on! Is it that hard to allow a ten-minute stroll to stretch my legs?" The girl hisses, pulling out her hair sticks in frustration. Her dark hair uncoiled from the tight bun and fell in waves around her back - she expertly twirls a strand with her sticks, spinning the staves deftly in her fingers.

"Study."

"...can I have a plate of cookies?"

Uh? This was an unprecedented request. Dame Scarlet blinks and in that space of a second the girl launched a brilliant whiplash of light with a flick of her sticks. The impact blasts Dame Scarlet to one side in a brilliant flash of red.

The girl turns back to the red wall, but a split second later Dame Scarlet is by her side, shaking her head in disappointment. "My, my. Feeling rebellious today? You should learn to behave. If not, I will - "

The girl lashes out with her whips again, their sparking trails slicing Dame Scarlet's afterimage into pieces.

"Disappointing." Dame Scarlet snaps her fingers and the room is cast into darkness, swiftly followed by the wooden clatter of the girl's sticks hitting the ground. A few multicolored sparks are seen, then no more. "There go the electricity privileges."

The girl made a very angry noise.

"Aaaand there go the air privileges." Suddenly the room shifted; warping into the hull of a red skyship. The darkness is still present, now accompanied by a vaccum; the girl chokes and collapses to the floor.

"It's unfortunate I can't remove the air privileges for too long. They seem to be the best way to make you behave." Dame Scarlet sighs, and air floods in. The girl takes rattling breaths from the ground, glaring at the Dame.

"My dear, I'm only doing my best to keep you safe and healthy! This ship is due to arrive at your home planet in about, let's say, a few centuries. Whether you arrive the short way or the long way is up to your behaviour. This is for your own good, you know."

The girl falls still, mutinously.

Dame Scarlet snaps her fingers, the lights coming back on - the skyship was an illusion. The room reappears again, as dull and bland as ever. The red-tinted wall stands, still impassable. "That's better, isn't it?"

"I'd like to see you study for six hours straight." The girl growls, but otherwise makes no other move.

"Don't argue with me, girl. I've been through worse. You have much room for improvement, but I trust you will be well groomed by the time your new employer arrives. Is there anything else?"

"I was serious about those cookies!"

"You already had your lunch at twelve."

"Children actually need snacks, by the way? I guess your omnipresence doesn't really give you much caretaking skills. Read a book, Madame."

"I can't conjure up confectionaries on the spot, my dear! Give me some time. In the meantime, study."

The Dame phases through the glass panel with yet another flash of ruby light. She doesn't entertain any further comments.

Back along the corridor she goes. There is a curt knock at the front door just as she arrives back into the entrance hall.

"Come in."

The door opens, and this time it is a lady that looks very much like someone you've seen before. Her long hair is curled tightly into two buns save for two braids hanging almost to her feet. Two ramlike horns curve elegantly behind her ears, tapering down to sharp points below. Standing elegantly straight, her form-fitting black dress falls easily over her frame and spills onto the floor. Dark green highlights on the fabric shift as she moves into the room, like shadow-on-shadow.

She bows ever so slightly to the Dame, her sharp features momentarily softening into that of grudging respect. "I've completed your assignments, madame."

Dame Scarlet inclines her head in response, a sign of respect as well - this lady was not to be trifled with.

"Good. Very good. I suppose you've taken care of the... ah, devices?"

"Yes, madame. All to order." The lady nodded expectantly.

"Very well. You will receive your reward." Dame Scarlet beckons her charge over before producing some sort of a pendulum from a hidden pocket. "Now then, Handmaid, this is a pendulum." She dangles the shard of clear crystal from her hand by its silvery chain.

"You don't say, madame." The Handmaid inspects the crystal, then attempts to pry it from the Dame's hands -

- "No, it's not for you." Scarlet swings the pendulum out of reach. "It's a decision maker. Much like a crystal ball, but this one serves a specific purpose." The crystal begins to oscillate from side to side, flashing red on the left side of its swing, and green on its right. "Timeline-related decisions."

The Handmaid quirks an eyebrow, curious. "By this, you mean...?"

"Ah. Red represents alpha, green represents doomed." Dame Scarlet strolls towards the kitchen, letting the pendulum swing. The Handmaid trails after her, hawk eyes narrowed. Two sets of heels make clear clacks on the polished ground as they move; throughout, the Handmaid's interest in the pendulum is obvious.

"And the timeline under scrutiny right now would be?"

"Your reward, dear. Don't you want to know which timeline you come from?"

"Mmm, yes." Her tone of voice is casual, but the Handmaid's hand trembles as it makes a quick gesture behind her back. The hesitation is uneeded. The process is smooth, the results immediately, a sleight of hand done too many times - the pendulum instantly jerks to a halt, its crystal shining a stark crimson.

"So... you're from the Alpha timeline." Scarlet's words are clearly colored with surprise.

"Of course." The Handmaid sounds confident, assured. But the prolonged silence makes it mark on her, and even her composure falters. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, not at all!"

The Handmaid makes a choking noise and crumples into the wall. Dame Scarlet presses forward, a cuestick pinning the other woman to the wallpaper- right through the heart. Blood oozes from the wound.

"There are simply...some inconveniences that come with being from the Alpha timeline. I didn't think you were from that timeline. It would have been too inconvenient to have been helping me so long in your situation."

The Handmaid stares at her with piercing eyes, brimming with wetness and betrayal. Dame Scarlet takes out a pure white pistol.

The BANG echoes through the whole house.

"I must thank you for your services."

She glances towards the kitchen, then shelves the idea for now. There is one more guest she has to take care of. She strolls back to the entrance, retrieving the scratched dish she was repairing as she goes. Polishes it a little with her coat.

The visitor has dived under the couch cushions this time.

"Here's your disc. I'm done with it."

The visitor nods, takes the disc from the Dame's porcelain hands and bolts through the doorway.


END OF INTERMISSION 2