Some possessions go awry when spirit and host want different things. Some go awry when they want the same thing. Some truly terrible ones go wrong when they want for each other. 

But for the Maiden of Serenity, choosing but one craving would be a misery. Of these three she has woven a terrible pattern and cast it in stars that shine behind stone eyes. To unpick it in words shall take the remainder of these many pages, but to lance through it all as the Rakshasa does here requires only a mirror. No ordinary mirror, for it is no ordinary mask she wears. What Six Sounds Starving reveals cuts through that defense and shows spirit and host each other and themselves, and by whatever tangled calculus that the Maiden has set in this entangling, this is sufficient. 

Who is seeing what? Who is seeing who? Are they overcome with vanity or yearning or separation? Which of them desires this enough to stand frozen still as the fae approaches, and which of them resisted it enough to don the mask in the first place?

A flash of teeth. An exchange of venom[1][2][3][4]. A little chaos sinks into a closed and flawless system. Faerie-bite detected; updating cravings. Why does this count as beyond the world when it could so easily be made a part of it?

The mask, that glimpse of skin as smooth and brown as the flooded river, is pulled back down over those twin fang marks. It descends so swiftly those bites might hardly have been seen to be there at all. Just as swiftly comes the firewand - a flawless and ornamented thing from distant lands, a short and wide metal pipe blocked on one end with a thin cloth like a party favour, keeping the alchemical powder within from spilling. A spark and it will burn forth in a pillar of enchanting and enchanted fire. A spark is not needed for its purpose - it strikes the mirror with its heavy base and breaks it.

"You," said Zhaojun, still elegantly, doing her best to sway in time with the pulse of the venom[1][2][3][4] in her head. "Have done something unwise."

[1] do we call it venom when it spreads and grows and multiplies like a disease harrowing the host?
[2] do we call it venom when it changes and shifts and empowers and undermines like the transformative power that makes maidens from monsters?
[3] {forbidden}
[4] do we call it venom when it is welcomed by a trapped and suffering soul like monsoon rains upon the desert of the mountain platau?