There has been... time. Time enough for many things. Time enough for everything. There are the conversations with Redana: the kind from when they were children on Tellus, the kind she pined for since forever, and the kind that don't need any words from start to finish. There are the arguments among those staying: the awkward accusations of the mistrustful, the bold sacrifices of the desperate, and the long apologies to those champions of the Lanterns that honored her by giving her their everything. All of this, and more.

And when it all had passed, still they had not reached the point of crossing. The Rift choked the entire ship in clouds of choking, foul cigarette smoke, it dominated every dream of every soul on every night, and if one were to flit outside the ship (in a Plover or otherwise) it would dominate the horizon with its ghastly pink light until it became clear at last that the awful wound had in fact swallowed the entire galaxy and all the stars inside it. There was nothing else. Only this. The Tunguska behind them, but only just. It's treasures all exhausted or kept covetously behind. Bella had not said goodbye to any of it. Nor to anyone who had decided to part from the journey at this last possible resting point. All of it gone. All of them gone.

And still, they had not crossed. Boarded. Departed. Committed. But not crossed. Could anything possibly be worse than this interminable space between the decision to act and the consequences? There is nothing left except the waiting. Aboard this mostly empty, once glorious ship. It is an... uncomfortably familiar feeling. This time there is no Prion Paula to keep her company and soothe away the itch when meditation floods her mind with memories instead of calm. Her entire life seems determined to pound its way through her skull before it's stolen away from her forever. It feels just the same as a hangover. 

At least the Tunguska had given her time to assemble a new wardrobe. And with the wardrobe and the sudden emptying of the ship had come the justification for having her own quarters, not that she made particular use of it. But it was, at last, a space to retreat to when she needed it. And she would need it soon and often, she had zero doubt. The idea felt carved into her bones. The impulse grew stronger every day. 

But today she manages to ignore it. Thank the gods. She prowls the mazelike hallways of the [i]Plousios[/i], bending her ears every which way and stopping at every junction to sniff the air before committing to a direction. Smoke. Smoke. Smoke. Smoke. But something else, very faint, at the end of a very long trail.

"...Mynx."

She finds her in an old workshop, staring at the shadows covering a thousand saws and plasma cutters and hammers and other assorted tools that once upon a time in a kinder world had kept this ship in perfect shape as a glittering work of art. Like the [i]Argo[/i] a thousand thousand lifetimes before it, the [i]Plosious[/i] had all the seeming of a ship that must have been the sort of vessel that shone with the pride of the heroic voyages it was used for. Not the pinnacle of civilization, Bella had seen what happened to [i]those[/i], but a place where legends gathered to do great things.

And look at it now. Look at [i]them[/i] now. These broken, useless sisters.

"Mynx." she says it again, without the growl in her voice this time.

"Mm?"

"I've been, uh, looking for you."

"Well, good job."

"I wanted to... talk."

That got no answer. Bella's leg takes an automatic step in retreat, but she grinds her heel into the floor. The snarl builds, but does not crest. She's able to turn it into a clearing of her throat before it's too late.

"Well, I mean. You haven't exactly been making it easy to find you, lately."

"Well Bella I really can't imagine why that would be."

"But you kept it."

"Huh? Kept what?"

"Your smell. The one you told me was a trick. You're still... using it."

Mynx's scales ripple across her entire body. She turns, and opens her mouth with the kind of expression that suggests she had a very nasty thought on her tongue, but she says nothing. And she does turn.

"I know ok?" says Bella, "I know. It sucks being out here."

"Bella do you seriously [i]still[/i] want to go back to Tellus? I thought after all the princess fucking you've been doing that you might finally loosen up! I wanted you to want this, Bella! Just like she did! We're out, we're supposed to be free, doing whatever we wanted to! And we've run out of universe and I've still got my whole damn list left!"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean--" it's Bella's turn to blush now. Her eyes find Mynx's feet with a hunter's acuity worth of Artemis, "I didn't mean I want to turn around. I just meant... fucking, you know! Here! This gods-damned waiting. I want to be washed clean too, you know!"

Mynx's eyes flicker. A startled blink. Bella grabs at her own arm and pulls it across her chest with no small amount of shame. 

"Oh." says Mynx.

"Yeah."

"I guess we don't really get a say now that we're here, but there's really nothing you want to keep?"

"Not... really Mynx. I have fucked this entire journey up from top to bottom, at every opportunity. I'd really rather just... start over."

"Huh. Well, there's lots that I want to keep. I've got a list all written down so it's--"

"Easier to understand what you were thinking."
"Easier to understand what I was thinking."

They laugh together, briefly. Somewhere in the span of that small noise the space between them has closed to just a step or two. But they don't cross it. They don't touch.

"I want to remember that time we were both you." says Mynx with a smile.

"And you yelled at me for being me wrong? Ha!"

"And what about you?"

"...That time we stole Odoacer's yacht."

"We were so young then~"

"And I want..."

"What do you want, Bella?"

"To remember when I tried to kill you."

The smell of smoke, that some would say is the smell of love, grows so thick in the room that for a moment neither of them can do anything but choke. The air turns cold and the light turns harsh, and in the shadows it's difficult to see anything but the eyes of two monsters prowling in a circle around one another, trying to decide how best to strike before the other one eats them.

"I strangled you. I tried to rip you in half. I put my fist through your fucking stomach, Mynx. And every time it-- it wasn't the last one. You kept showing up. You smiled at me. You, you fucking smiled! And even now you smell like you, when you know damn well it's all I can use to find you!"

At last, the teeth show. Claws flash in this blaring spotlight. Suddenly Mynx turns away and makes to slip into the shadows, but she gets caught by the wrist. Bella's fingers are curled carefully inward, to keep her claws from so much as scratching those now-constantly rippling scales. 

"Bella please, I don't want this to turn into another fight. I'll still see you on the other side, ok? It'll be better, you were right. We can just be friends this time. And we really will go on adventures together."

"No! Fuck you Mynx, no! I don't want that! That's why I needed to talk to you now, while we're still us! I have to say--"

She chokes on the words, and Mynx doesn't step over them. All she does is turn again, wrist still caught, and watch her oldest charge with the same wide, expressive eyes that always seem determined to soak in every detail down into the absolute depths of her dna. Just in case she needed them for a performance. Just in case it mattered.

"I'm sorry," Bella manages, through tears, "And... and thank you. I was nothing but horrible to you, but you still saved me. I will never stop owing you. Even if we both forget why. And I needed-- needed you to hear it. While it still means everything."

It takes a long time for Mynx to react. Even then she's strange about it. Always has been. Perhaps the truest power of the Toxicrene is their inability to break properly. She is soft as she pulls her wrist free. And she is softer still when she pulls Bella into an embrace.

"Honestly, Bella? That makes two of us."