"No shit? How would that even come about? What kind of stupid-- Skeleton people... that's really fucked up. There's no way Demeter would be ok with that. That's, ugh, gods I'm picturing it. No that's gross. That's really gross, Ves. Glad you're not at the point where that's acceptable losses."

There is something soothing about the architecture of this place, despite its history. The idea of such grand workings and intent having their intent befouled by practical needs and the harshness of reality, perhaps, or even more simply than that just seeing an attempt at perfection fall short helps ease the tension in Bella's breath just a little. 

Without that much, she might be dead right now. The air is hot, even accounting for the insane bullshit 'hide inside a star' plan the ship was preparing for, the atmosphere in this place is hostile and unbearable. Everything is too heavy by half, and it takes concerted and conscious effort to keep her posture straight and her hands up enough to defend herself if, no. When the moment comes. Her blood feels like it's trying to jump out of her body. Her eyes both feel as if they were being crushed under a vice. There's a headache crushing her skull and a dryness on her tongue that no amount or vintage of wine could ever hope to solve.

She tries to flex her fingers, to keep them loose. Every knuckle on her hand seems to pop like a firecracker as she moves from open palm to fist and then back again. Her claws feel pain, and so much weight pressed into them that they might as well be buried in some jackass king's chest right now. She can even feel the blood sickness swirling in her throat. 

It has been since the Eater of Worlds that she felt this level of unprepared. Unqualified, and desperate. Her ear twitches, and she rubs at it with the back of one finger and a wince.

"I'd really like to believe you're telling me this because you like me, Vesper. Because that'd mean you're hoping I'll agree with you and just climb up there to join your stupid fucking plan. Not that you need me for any of it, but I happen to have it on good authority you've already made preparations to hand me my own ass and it would be a relief at the very least to know you don't [i]want[/i] to."

Try as she may, Bella cannot keep her voice from straining. Or her jaw from clenching in between sentences. Her agitation is obvious to even the most distracted dullard who could be watching, from the muscles all over her body pulled so taut they're quivering to the restless tail at her back that won't stop bushing to its maximum volume. 

The beating of her heart is audible. Bella plants her feet and cranes her neck to watch Vesper, and her eyes narrow to shield themselves from the light.

"...How about we turn it around for once? Just give up on this plan and walk away on your own this time. I don't want to do this, Sister. I'm begging you not to make me."