Let your poor heart break a little

[Chapel Spam (backdated to Fri. 4/18]
[It's Good Friday. At least it is as near as she can tell - what few calendars she's consulted on board point toward this Sunday as Easter. The Protestant Easter, she knows, which is never quite on the same date as the Orthodox Church's. But she has faith in Christ, in His passion and His blood, not the date; and she enters the chapel in mourning dress with a crucifix and her Bible in her hands.

It seems odd to settle in the pew before an altar with no image or sacrament on it. In fact it seems odd to observe the holy day without a mass at all, but she is aware that faith can compensate for a lack of structure. So she opens to the proper passage in the book of Matthew and begins reading the verses again, quietly speaking the familiar words aloud.]

And they stripped him, and put on him a scarlet robe. And when they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it around his head, and a reed in his right hand: and they bowed the knee before him, and mocked him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews! And after that they had mocked him, they took the robe off from him, and put his own raiment on him, and led him away to crucify him.

[Esther wishes the death toll extended this long. The pain had tapered off a few weeks ago, to her great relief, but today she wishes she had it again. Pain was a trial from God, one even His own Son had to put Himself through. Hers, in comparison, wasn't so bad. If Jesus could be beaten, publicly humiliated, and left to die a torturous death, she can soldier through her own suffering. Perhaps she can be better for it.

But that hope is one she won't think of until Sunday, when joy can return.]

[Hallway Spam]
[If there is a princess of the Barge, Esther Coleman is it.

When she walks the halls she does so with the grace of royalty, the impression of grandeur extending beyond her disturbingly grown-up dresses, her sophisticated makeup, and the pearl-handled revolver she keeps tucked at her waist. It comes from belonging, pure and simple: there has never been a place where she's better fit in. Yes, she still has secrets, still keeps her true identity close to her chest and has only shared hints of her age with those closest to her, but for once, she doesn't need to hide it. Back home, she had been deprived of ever taking power unless it was seized illegitimately; here, she is important, honored, worthwhile. And her power over the inmates, pathetic animals that they were, was not to be forgotten either.

Although her particular animal had been giving her a headache, as of late, and because of a warden's meddling, no less. These things happened, and it hadn't been the first time another warden had overstepped their bounds with her inmate. She doesn't doubt Aeryn's reasons for occupying Maladicta's time are good, but still the woman has toed into Esther's territory and she is not taking that anywhere near as lightly as her smile suggests.]

[Private to Aeryn]
Ms. Sun, may I enquire as to why you've spirited my inmate away? I've no objection to you spending time with her, of course, but as you know I prefer to be consulted on these matters.

Maladicta, are you enjoying your time with the nice lady?

[Sometime later, filtered to wardens:]
My friends, I believe some confused individuals on board mean to raise some sort of resistance among the inmates. [She smiles, shaking her head a bit.] I recommend isolating your inmates quickly and seeing to it that they understand the foolishness of this idea, by whatever means necessary.

[Private to Bianca]
Excuse me, madame, but I wonder if you and yours might be willing to give me a hand. [Never for nothing, of course; but she has been more than loyal enough to perhaps have earned herself a favor.]

(OOC: Esther is affected, is Mal's warden, and is also probably draconian in keeping track of the Barge's coffee. Her Mirror self is still disguised as a child but has no issues embracing her sexuality and won't hesitate to flirt, so… possible age-related squickiness in the comments?)