Bit of background here: same world and timeline as the VS alt-universe snippet I posted awhile ago. Since that was originally a fanfic snippet, and not the original story it's turning into... things are jumbled in my head. So some of these images are not fully fleshed out, are more flashes of scenes then actual scenes, and are sometimes mere musings and thoughts by the characters. And some of the previous incarnations of the characters didn't live very happy lives... and I'm putting that mildly.

Some of you who read this journal--mostly my Real Life friends--smirk when I talk about my muses physically speaking to me; it isn't really like that. Best analogy I can think of is when you recall a memory so vividly that it takes place in front of your eyes; you remember the sounds, the smells, even the thoughts that went through your head at the time. That is akin to talking to my muses. I see them, I talk to them, and I see into their souls.

The blade still glowed red when she pulled it from the alchemic fire, but the warrior ignored that as she gripped the handle. Physical pain was nothing compared to what she felt inside. Holding the blade level to her eye, she glanced down it, checking for physical imperfections. Seeing none, she looked again for imperfections that would make the magic warp when cast into the blade. It was a blank slate to that inner sight, a perfect vessel only waiting for something to fill it. She sighed, turned the blade down into an inverse minor rood, and gripped and ran her hand down the blade before her body's instincts caught up to her mind. The blood ran thick for a few moments, staining the red glowing blade with a deeper darker red, two shades that quickly faded as the blood was leeched into the sword. It was tied to her now, and none but her and her blood would ever bear the sword.

Ah, damn it, I'm tired. Fleshing out these scenes is harder than I thought.