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Description
Bloody, aching fingers scratch at the unrelenting glass in resignation, leaving dark, slimy smears that obscure the view, and she tilts her head back to laugh without humor at her futility. She nearly chokes on her own chortles, gasping and coughing as her voice lilts and wheezes, until she manages to catch her breath once more, only to begin laughing again.

This insanity is nigh in completion. The walls are solidifying, and soon she will be so drained of spiritual strength that even she will not be able to shatter her crystallized prison.

A deep sigh, and there is a cooling rush throughout her.

Leaning painfully against the curved wall as she holds one hand to her chest, she wonders how such a strange and unwanted prophecy came to unfold this way.

Things weren’t always like this, and her entire knowledgeable life she devoted herself to preventing such a horrid prediction from proving itself true.

How was she to have known she’d completely misunderstood its meaning from the very beginning?

As she quietens, she scowls. Her battle regalia is askew, poking at her, but she is in no position to adjust it for comfort. Quite literally, she muses with disdain as the thing twisted around her tightens considerably, causing her muscles to scream as she grimaces in an attempt to silence a groan. Her stomach lurches at the rancid smell.

There is no way out. No escape.

As a child she was raised to follow the ways of the miko. However, she never would have foretold that she was simply following the thread of fate in doing so. That her own acts of prevention were, in fact, her own undoing.

The prophecy was unavoidable.

She realises this now, a strange, humorless smile curving her lips. The tragedy bemuses her in a sickeningly maddening way. She is only playing her part, and the strings attached to her limbs can somewhat be seen through the steamy mist from her breath as a chill sets through the air.

“In the arms of the ill-intended shall you birth a new wickedness.”

Virginal flesh.

Pure and powerful in body and soul.

Untouched and forever unapproached by man.

Impenetrable by sword or sorcery.

A protectress on many levels.

All of these, in order to protect herself and the fate of the world.

Body shaking, holy powers nearly drained, she grabs hold of the creature’s soul strings once again. She must end this, and purge herself of the darkness that it has placed inside her.

It cannot grow. It will not grow.

She will end this.

It is futile.

This long battle of nights and days on end is finally coming to an end, and her life force is but a whisper now.

With her last breath she reaches out, slipping fully into the arms of the ill-intended, and severs its soul. Lightheaded, she pulls them both deep into herself and shudders her way into death.

Their unholy union is still birthed, expunged from her chest, and from inside their soul prison she watches herself fall away from the twisted mess of limbs left behind. Satisfied with the purging of the wickedness, Midoriko resumes battle inside the Shikon no Tama, hoping that someday far into the centuries she can win. Until then, she will not rest.

Description
Bloody, aching fingers scratch at the unrelenting glass in resignation, leaving dark, slimy smears that obscure the view, and she tilts her head back to laugh without humor at her futility. She nearly chokes on her own chortles, gasping and coughing as her voice lilts and wheezes, until she manages to catch her breath once more, only to begin laughing again.

This insanity is nigh in completion. The walls are solidifying, and soon she will be so drained of spiritual strength that even she will not be able to shatter her crystallized prison.

A deep sigh, and there is a cooling rush throughout her.

Leaning painfully against the curved wall as she holds one hand to her chest, she wonders how such a strange and unwanted prophecy came to unfold this way.

Things weren’t always like this, and her entire knowledgeable life she devoted herself to preventing such a horrid prediction from proving itself true.

How was she to have known she’d completely misunderstood its meaning from the very beginning?

As she quietens, she scowls. Her battle regalia is askew, poking at her, but she is in no position to adjust it for comfort. Quite literally, she muses with disdain as the thing twisted around her tightens considerably, causing her muscles to scream as she grimaces in an attempt to silence a groan. Her stomach lurches at the rancid smell.

There is no way out. No escape.

As a child she was raised to follow the ways of the miko. However, she never would have foretold that she was simply following the thread of fate in doing so. That her own acts of prevention were, in fact, her own undoing.

The prophecy was unavoidable.

She realises this now, a strange, humorless smile curving her lips. The tragedy bemuses her in a sickeningly maddening way. She is only playing her part, and the strings attached to her limbs can somewhat be seen through the steamy mist from her breath as a chill sets through the air.

“In the arms of the ill-intended shall you birth a new wickedness.”

Virginal flesh.

Pure and powerful in body and soul.

Untouched and forever unapproached by man.

Impenetrable by sword or sorcery.

A protectress on many levels.

All of these, in order to protect herself and the fate of the world.

Body shaking, holy powers nearly drained, she grabs hold of the creature’s soul strings once again. She must end this, and purge herself of the darkness that it has placed inside her.

It cannot grow. It will not grow.

She will end this.

It is futile.

This long battle of nights and days on end is finally coming to an end, and her life force is but a whisper now.

With her last breath she reaches out, slipping fully into the arms of the ill-intended, and severs its soul. Lightheaded, she pulls them both deep into herself and shudders her way into death.

Their unholy union is still birthed, expunged from her chest, and from inside their soul prison she watches herself fall away from the twisted mess of limbs left behind. Satisfied with the purging of the wickedness, Midoriko resumes battle inside the Shikon no Tama, hoping that someday far into the centuries she can win. Until then, she will not rest.