Overwhelming. The aroma: the acrid stench wafting through the air and choking her like a malevolent cloud. The bitter tang of iron building in her nose. The antiseptic sting of combat drugs swirled into sweet, honeyed toxins and salty pheromones. Like being trapped inside a bakery built into a hospital morgue. The pressure building behind her eyes as blood vessels restrict instinctively at the at the sight of the ruby red shower, gemstones falling like rain and... blood. So much blood. Mynx's... Mynx's blood. In the air. On the floor. In her -- ghk!!

She is incapable of tolerating it. She is programmed especially to get sick at the sight and smell of it; a last minute safety added to her suite to keep the ultraviolent tendencies suppressed. They'd told her, of course, it was a vaccination. So she wouldn't get the Princess sick with her Kennel filth. And she'd never questioned it, and even now she doesn't question it. Bella simply breaths, tilts, and drops to one knee as heavy as a stone. It is far, [i]far[/i] worse when the smell belongs to someone she's so familiar with.

"Hfff, hsssst, M-M... Myn-- d-don't you... get. G-get back hhhfffffffft!"

Speaking through it is a mistake. Her body contracts violently, and the welling headache tips completely over into nausea. She feels it rising in her throat and automatically covers her mouth with her hand, to keep from making a scene in front of Redana. And the smell grows stronger. Her hand. Her claws. Covered in sweet, shimmering red poison.

Her retching is too violent to contain. The air fills with the sounds of Bella gagging, coughing, sputtering, stubbornly trying to pull air through her nose while her hand stays planted over her mouth to keep more than a glistening trickle of drool from escaping to the floor. Her entire body is convulsing with seizure pains and hideous choking. Her throat is filled with dying animal snarls as she falls from one knee to both, and from her knees to needing her hands to keep from dropping to the floor completely. She hunches and shivers as she spills her shame out onto the floor beneath her, and trembles until the air clears enough for her to get her first whiffs of clean air. 

Slowly, her body calms. Her breathing slows, but then it hitches. No, no, no, damn it, no! But whether she wills it or no, the tears sweep in to fill the growing calm.

"Damn it. Damn it!" she hisses, and weakly pounds her fist into the floor. 

The girl called Bella unravels. Her claws feel unnaturally, sickeningly pleasant at the ends of her fingertips, tingling with the sweet, soft itch that faintly calls to mind the sensation of a name going cool and silent against her skin. No, her armor. That isn't her. That [i]isn't[/i] her. She sobs openly, without any thought or care for how it makes her look. Her wails pierce through the broken remnants of the party and coax sad sighs from the forest. She grieves.

"You, you!" Bella is interrupted by a hiccough that almost sends her spiraling back into the world of sickness, "Fucking idiot! What's gonna, nnnrgh! Gods! You... you! How can you? Just, just..."

She breaks down into a fresh wave of tears that are stronger than any words. Pitiful sniffles and wet vocalizations drip out of her like a summer storm across a plain. A hand touches her shoulder, but she curls into herself and away from it. No. No. Leave her alone. Fucking... leave her alone. Don't you get it?

What else could they be? What else could the Lethe possibly leave left of them both but murderers and monsters?