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 Posted: Fri Feb 22, 2008 2:39 pm
 Art © Dgcakes
Concept © DgcakesThis journal is Private and you may only post in it with Ieeko's permission. If you don't have said permission then don't post here. Do not ask Ieeko to sell or give you this kid because it is NOT for sale. If you want one PM Dgcakes Assigned: 2/22/08 Name: Chiyo Gender: Female Guardian: Taiki Yoshida(Ieeko) Power: Ink
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 3:48 pm
Not long ago, when the sun poured down across the ground and the wind blew a gentle breeze, a man entered the wood. A notebook and pen were his shield and sword, marking life by the word of intellect and logic. Only fate would conspire against such a principal individual, who was firmly dedicated to work even under what appeared unusual circumstance. The man fell for the lure of the Wood. He fell for the lure of the arts of scent and sound, and fate drew him forward to a trap. His foot was caught within a rope, and high in the air he dangled like a strung lantern, swinging in blankness as the unforeseen, lacking logic whisked him forth into what would become the great unknown. A new life of adventure, of riddles, and of fairy tale fancy was to begin - and that is from where the tale plays its stride.
Quote: I hear and I forget; I see and I remember; I do and I understand. T a b l e o f C o n t e n t s
» The Ink Fountains || Introduction
» The Ink Brush || Chihiro (Chiyo) Yoshida
» He of Many Words || Taiki Yoshida
» The Living Art || Creations
» Companionship || Associates
» Within the Case || Inventory
» Colors of Time || Pictures
» Tell-Tale Guide || Directory
» Masterpieces || Credits
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 3:56 pm
  Name: Chihiro Yoshida
Nickname: Chiyo
Age: Relic
D.o.B: ---
Deity of: Ink
Sex: Female
Guardian: Taiki Yoshida
Hair: ---
Eyes: ---
Build: ---
Height: ---
Weight: ---
Distinguishing Features: ---
Attire: ---
Conceptual Song: ---
Personality:---_____________________________________________________________
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 4:02 pm
 Name: Taiki Yoshida
Nickname: Tai; Taiyo
Age: 32
D.o.B: August 2nd
Species: Human
Sex: Male
Occupation: Journalist
Residence: Durem
Hair: Black
Eyes: Dark Brown
Build: Average
Height: ---
Weight: ---
Distinguishing Features: ---
Attire: Business and Formal
Conceptual Song: ---
Personality:
________________________________________________________________
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 4:03 pm
There is nothing here...
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 4:05 pm
There is nothing here...
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 4:07 pm
There is nothing here...
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 4:08 pm
  ________________________________________________________________
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 4:10 pm
Report #1 || Taiki's Perspective
Report #2 || Taiki's Perspective
Report #3 || Chihiro's Finding
Report #4 || Taiki's Perspective
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 4:14 pm
Tison Reborn :: [Dg]
Chihiro & Co. :: Ieeko
Official Artwork :: [Dg]
Other Artwork :: Respective Artists
Banners :: Ieeko
Banner Sumi-E :: Sumi-E Painting.com
___________________________________________________
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Posted: Sun May 04, 2008 4:00 pm
 Taiki
A quiet breeze had wafted throughout the air. Each little burst of wind rattled the leaves, shook the branches dappled with the sun's bright light. The fragrance of nature was as provident as one could expect from the woods just beyond the city limits. The gentle scent of oak, pine, and variety floral arrangements that seem segregated in regards to habitat. It's a peculiar sight for the urban man, but nevertheless a welcomed change. To be distinct: there is an uncanny charm to the great wilderness which draws away concerns and bitterness. Stepping through that veil which separates the established civilization to the wild, I felt that subjection. The rage and anger of having been unfortunate enough to draw the shortest straw vanished like a Houdini, leaving me in almost bliss. The sheer idea that I had an assignment as ridiculous as interviewing new born hippies reminiscent of the 1960s, and their life high in the trees like Tarzans, had simply ceased to bother me. I was scarcely upset any longer that I had been deprived of something more worthy of journalistic integrity - such as the recent exploits of scientific exploits exported from G-Corp and its corrupt misdoings.
Rather than being lost to malice, nature sent me into a bumbling fit. To be frank, it was similar to puppetry. As if strings were attached to my arms and legs. They maneuvered me forward, and I felt my judgment growing cloudy. As if intoxicated, I began to lose myself out there. In retrospect, I have to wonder what went through my mind. I can not truly recall the matter, only the vague ideation that something influential must have been lingering in the air. Something akin to alcohol - with enough power to send me clear out of my way and into a predicament that I could not have foreseen. Perhaps that was me intoxicated thought. A long, lulling walk in the woods that seemed like a dream - I could not believe I was anything but under the influence of some bizarre substance I could not identify. There was a complacent euphoria. Perhaps we may blame the existence of spiritual hippies.
Nevertheless, this predicament, this scenario, led me to what was, and is, perhaps the most unusual thing to have ever happened to me. I stepped into a hunting trap. Casual. Old-fashioned, and tritely cliché. My foot had fallen into a rope circle, which had gripped my ankle like the jaws of some ravenous hound. Before I knew it, I was in the air. The last thing I remember of that ordeal was a sharp pain coursing through the back of me head, neck, and spine. The wind had been entirely knocked out of me. I tumbled away, abruptly drifting into what can only be described as the darkest oblivion imaginable.
Yet, I did not die. I am uncertain if I died - as I appear to be alive and I've been functioning at a perfect rate. That does not change the feeling of absent life at that instant, however. I simply fell away. The world stopped for a moment, and everything about me vanished into that cold slate of ink. I woke up, though. I woke up to the queer view of something well beyond my imagination.
My memory serves me briefly that a conversation took place. There was a woman. Not too old, perhaps, who went on about some complex subject. I believe she had mentioned gods. Gods. Goddesses. Some mythological being which perplexes any man walking soil and simply living life without acknowledgment of the divine. I listened. I was enticed, but more so ... There was a farcical feeling to the matter. A pendant had appeared around me neck. One of an ink-well and brush. In many ways, it was ironic, if not insulting. I had been incapable of shaking the idea that some practical joke had been played on my behalf. A journalist with an ink-well? How clever, how clever. I had told myself again and again to disacknowledge the matter, but it became increasingly difficult with the overwhelming feeling of confusion and reality. There was something tangible to the substance. There was something familiar, albeit idly distant and contradictory. The euphoric state that had over taken me in the woods, the trap that had caught my leg, and the blinding darkness. The possibility of being engulfed by an alien plot did not seem so far-fetched at that point. I was willing to give it some merit for the sake of curiosity, but my doubtfulness proceeded.
Until I again felt myself fall away.
I woke up to the trap, dangling upside down. All I had been capable of doing was swinging back and forth, shrieking out for someone to come and cut me down were anyone near. The rope eventually broke, and when I settled down I came to realize something. The pendant.
My body felt clammy. I was unnerved as I looked down to find the pendant still wrapped about my neck like some Olympic medallion. When I tried to remove it? It did not dare lift from my neck.
And even now... Even now it refuses to leave my neck, which leaves me all the more nervous. There's a twinge of insanity to it all. I can't help but wonder about the honesty behind it. Is it real? Could a small pendant possibly be the work of divine seeking mortality, or some form of it? Life. Humanity. The conversation before I had awaken to the rope had entailed the possibilities of a child birthing from a pendant - however bizarre that is in this day and age of a magical planet.
Whether or not it is real, there exists a maddening quality to it all. I can't help but wonder. Am I insane? Am I delusional? Should I visit the hospital to have my head checked? After all, I had hit it promptly on a tree. At the same time, I can't help but feel protective of my own seeming disillusion. Waiting. It's a waiting game I intend to play.
My body is sore. My head is throbbing, and all I can think to say is that I will never draw straws for an assignment again, nor will I ever accept a venture to the woods alone. So help me. Never again.
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Posted: Sun May 04, 2008 4:49 pm
 Taiki The usual clatter to circulate throughout the office had proven itself mundane. There was nothing interesting about the ringing of phones, the scribbling of pens, or the echo of fingers clattering against keyboards while the computers hummed like dying fans. Even the climate was familiar. The suits, ties, and formal wear. The casual manner of speak, or the discussion of economics. Inflation. Inflation. The Gaian Market is crashing. The occasional mention of wild G-Corp, their exploits. Talk of the lakes, the fish - the rabid Grunnies. That was work. Hectic. Frenzied. Informative and intellectual.
Walking through that long stretch of hall, lugging my briefcase with me, I could only begin to smile over the symphony of noise. It was a rush of relief for my weary mind, and I was happy to again me back within the office, surrounded by the numerous individuals I had acquainted myself with over the years. There was no obligatory need for me to think about the things that bothered me. The pendant, which I had carefully hidden within my shirt. The conversation I had had with the woman on board that ... Ship. The prospects of parenting, of the divine, of a bizarre turn of my fate. There was no obligatory need for me to even regard that my life had quite possibly taken a turn I had not expected nor necessarily wanted. Therefore, I was elated to sit down at my desk. I was ecstatic to set my briefcase down and to rummage through it - and to smile, nod, and chatter briefly with colleagues who pattered left and right, waving their papers and notes.
It was only after I realized I had no notes, nor story, that things began to turn on me again. I had stared into my briefcase, biting on my lower lip. After the incident with the trap, tree, and pendant, I had simply gone home for the evening rather than venturing to get the story. No material. No story. No article. I was going to be in rather poor shape when the editor found out I had faltered on my duty as the unlucky b*****d to draw the shortest straw.
Enraged, frustrated, and despairing, I had buried my face to the top of my desk. A low groan had flown from my mouth as I felt myself sobbing lightly. When would it end? I had not asked for silly opportunities. I had not even agreed to the matter of pendant care or whatever nonsense. Parenting. Ha! Me? A father? And the manner of which I was potentially to become one? It drove me wild to think the incident had consequentially lost me my article and an ounce of my reliability. Was there no dignity in fate to at least have picked a more convenient time? Apparently not - and so I grieved the matter, lightly pounding my head against the desk top while murmuring my silent curses of misfortune and bad luck. I couldn't stop thinking about it all - and on top of it I now had to worry about whether or not I was going to have my hide tanned for faltering. A good journalist never falters.
During my little episode, which seemed largely ignored to my happiness, a friend of mine caught wind of the conversation I had with myself. He sat just in front of me, our desks interlocked marking us as what we casually referred to as Siamese-Workers. He had peeped around his computer, sliding his glasses down to stare at me with a perplexed expression. I had looked up, and we had stared at one another until he had given a sheepish grin as if to apologize for something. Elliot. Elliot is his name. A fine journalist, and possibly one of the best men I've ever known. At the same time, uncannily goofy - and to put the matter in context, he was the one who engineered the straw-draw that led to my having no notes and having a pendant-tumor.
"You feeling okay, Tai?" Elliot had asked me.
My face had recoiled as I sat up, fixing my collar. "Y-yeah."
"Right, right. How'd it go?"
"Huh?" I had stared at him blankly until it had dawned upon me that he had the assumption that things had not gone well on my venture. He was correct in his hunch, but I wasn't about to let him know a thing.
"How'd it go? Out there?" Elliot had repeated.
"It was fine." I had stammered, slinking into my chair. Quietly I had pushed my briefcase aside. In truth, I was petrified he was going to ask me a serious question. What is the present legal state of their residency within the tree houses, and have the construction contracts established by the city been nullified?
"You look tired. Working hard as always, though, right? You need a vacation badly." Elliot had laughed lightly as he rolled his chair around the desk. He had sat swiftly next to me, leaning in that impish manner. "So, they tell you what the legal status of their residency is? This one's environmental gold! Tree-people fighting the man to keep their trees." Elliot's flashy smile had become devious, if not menacing. The way he spoke the words, I had to wonder whether or not he were excited for the content. It seemed boring to me, yet Elliot was infatuated. Why hadn't he taken the bloody assignment? "Have the construction contracts been nullified yet?"
Dammit.
He asked.
My face had wilted as I began to sink further and further into my seat. I didn't have the will to tell him I failed. I wasn't like that. I couldn't not bring a story. I had worked too hard on my reliability and I felt it were threatened. I didn't want to go back for the story, though. I didn't want to go back, and I didn't want to admit I had not accomplished it. What a situation.
Elliot had frowned, picking up my briefcase before giving a shake of his head. "You didn't go?"
"... No." I had confessed, slinking as far as I could into my chair.
We had sat silent until he had set the item back down, folding his arms across his chest.
"That's not going to pass over well." Elliot had breathed in thought. He had only looked nervous a moment before jumping back to his glee. He had slammed his hand against my aching back, patting it in the manner that only he could. "It's alright. Your first time, right? Think of it as losing your virginity. When you make that first slip up and don't do what you're supposed to, it's just like ---" He had gone on a while, chattering about the lucid comparison.
Good old Elliot. I had only laughed at him. So off-color. So blithe. So ... Ridiculous, yet it was charming in a way. We chatted a while about the matter, until finally he had paused.
"Did something happen?"
"When I went?"
"Yes, yes - when you went. I'm confident you at least went out there."
My chest had tightened as I placed a hand over my chest, grasping the pendant through my shirt. A raging pallor had over taken me. I didn't want to tell him - he was going to giggle insanely for hours if I did. "Nothing happened." I had bluntly confided, but Elliot had not believed me. Before I could say more, he had noticed my hold on my shirt and had gathered enough suspicion to peer down it.
Not a word from anyone. The occasional glance, but it was as suspected as could be. Elliot's peculiarity was no unfamiliar matter, and his invasive tendencies were scarcely anything to bat an eye at. Except for with the fresh interns. Of course they would look with mouths agape or flabbing with shock.
"Oooh~" Elliot had breathed, pulling the pendant out of my shirt to look at it. "Ha, ha. This is clever. Brush and ink. That's more cultural than I thought you'd get, Tai. You never struck me as the cultural type!"
My face had flushed a bright red as I was forced to lean forward, the pendant's hold pulling at my neck. "Elliot, let go!" I had pleaded.
He had obliged, rubbing his scruffy chin with a hand. His disheveled chestnut hair had drifted lightly into his face as he watched me force the thing back into hiding. "I didn't know you wore jewelry either. See? We should talk more. How can I not know you wear jewelry? We've known each other for years!"
Siamese desks.
"I don't wear jewelry!" I had burst out. Quickly I had spun my chair around, not wanting to press the subject further. Yet, Elliot did not want to let it go. It was as if he had a radar for something being wrong with me. Without any consideration, he had spun my chair back around, tilting his head like a small dog.
"What's up with you? You're so uptight today..." His smile had faded away into nothingness. "Can I see it?"
"NO!" I had shouted, standing up. That had certainly caught some attention around the office. No one said a word, though. They left us to our business.
"Why not? Is it personal?" Elliot had continued, his eyebrows furrowing together.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"It's just a necklace."
"No. No." I had shaken my head, grasping the pendant through my shirt again. Elliot had rolled his chair somewhat closer. He seemed stern, almost frightening in his curiosity and concern. The look to his eyes. His eerie silence. With a sigh, he had began to leave me be. He had began to roll his chair backwards, returning to his desk as if he had grown bored with my apprehensiveness.
In a way, it hurt. We were, indeed, very good friends - and I knew he meant no harm.
I had bitten my lip, watching him slide away.
Before I could second guess it, I spoke: "Elliot!"
He had paused, eying me warily.
I had swallowed, worried about spreading the unorthodoxy. Yet it seemed correct. I did trust Elliot. I trusted him enough. Fear. In a way, the entire situation was beginning to scare me with its random nature. Its random, unknown selection and possibilities. I cleared my throat as I leaned forward, looking around anxiously...
And at that moment I confided. I told him everything in high hopes that he would listen, not laugh, and understand.
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Posted: Wed May 07, 2008 3:25 pm
 Quote: The day had become an eventful one, filled with tedium and exhaustion. It had been enough to drive him mad, yet, at the same time, its insanity had provided him with a sense of clarity. There was consistency to the matter, and he could not deny that he had been happy to return to work and inevitably confide his information in someone else. The absence of his notes. The frivolous nature of his paranoia and anxiety. Taiki had truly needed the awkward unorthodoxy that was his closest co-worker. And the confidence had not been an ill decision. Elliot had listened. He had nodded, asked the occasional question, and without word had promised to stop by the next morning to head for breakfast. It had been kindly, nice. In fact, the confidence had almost been surreal. It had certainly made things seem less bizarre and frightening for him. A pendant. A cause. A twist of fate. Shouldering such insane thoughts with someone else somehow made them more bearable.
Still, the fatigue to follow such a stressful period of time was enormous. As Taiki had passed through his apartment door, he could only undo his tie and fling it to the floor. Despite his tidy nature, he eventually did the same with his suit's jacket, flopping onto the sofa with no regard that the bed may have been more comfortable. The bed was further away, and Taiki simply felt drowsy. Drowsy. Weak. Tired.
His smiled madly in his weary state, curling into the cushions as if to hide himself away. His eyes had gradually began to shut as he slipped away into slumber - the clock ticking and serving to lull him peacefully. Quote: As he slept, his soul gently floated from his body, into the air above where he slept. Though his body still remained where it was, he found himself unable to reenter it. Yet, strangely, before him floated a ghostly door, that the small ghost of the relic upon his neck beckoned him towards. Quote: He had just been feeling the pangs of relaxation. The soft, gentle darkness had been caressing his consciousness, driving him into his deep sleep. Then it had all fallen apart. His ease, his contentment, and his satisfaction had been obliterated by the continued adventures of his unusual life. He had felt himself drifting away. Flying, floating - and when he glanced down there he saw himself curled on the sofa in his exhausted heap.
Taiki's face had become dreadfully pale as his eyes grew wide. He mouth had fallen agape as he stared, trying a moment or so to reenter his own body and bypass the bizarre nature of a dream he felt he were experiencing. For a moment, he felt as if something would devour his sleeping form as he stood aside, looking on helplessly. A nightmare. Certainly he was in the beginning stages of what would haunt him briefly until breakfast the next morning. He had quickly turned his head away from his body, clamping his eyes shut. Something had prompted him to open them again. A door. There was a door in front of him, haunting and devious like a phantom in waiting ... And then there was the relic wrapped about his neck. Tempting, taunting, guiding. It pulled him forward - and reluctantly he had obliged. Quote: As he passed through the door, he entered a strange place and the entranceway he'd come through vanished behind him. He was in what looked like an old Japanese style garden. However, near his feet he noticed what appeared to be a banzai tree and the model of a tea house. Outside of that house lay a small woman, not even the size of his hand, crushed by what he surmised from the boot mark in front of him, was either a very unobservant or very cruel person.
The relic glowed brightly in the direction of the woman, and seemed almost to be prompting him to pick her body up. Quote: There was no sense in mincing affections and memories. Taiki's shoulders had drooped somewhat as the entrance vanished behind him. His lips had parted as he breathed, inhaling and exhaling. Quietly he took the garden in stride, observing the nature of it all - from the greenry to the casual architecture that could only be described as traditionalistic. By no means was Taiki a traditional man. He had grown simply, in a steady manner which he had plucked culture from with each year of age. Even so, there still lingered the affections for simplicity and the nature of that void. He had smile briefly as he began to proceed, pausing abruptly when he realized a bonzai tree stood before him, with its little tea house decor.
His brows had furrowed as he leaned closer to look. His lips had been drawn into a firm line as his fingers brushed the model tea house and the banzai tree, eventually flinching at what appeared to be a crushed woman. Certainly it had shocked him enough to retract his hand. He had nearly staggered away, his face long and mortified by the grotesque nature of it all. A fairy tale indeed. He was reminded of the old stories of childhood. Issun-Boshi, Thumblina, Tom Thumb. Small people and the hardships they faced. That one would truly be laying crushed, dead, before him seemed unreal and rather morbid. Were he younger, or older, it did not matter. It still horrified him the same.
The relic's flow had jolted him. It had drawn him closer, pulling him near that injured corpse of the trampled woman. He had sighed in disturbance, extending his hand to lightly grasp her with his thumb and forefinger. Silently he had lifted the body up, his eyes flinting over it almost precariously. Quote: As he touched it, the body began to glow softly, as did the relic. What would have been horribly blinding on a full-sized being was a minor irritant here. The relic quite suddenly became intangible even to his ghostly self and became what appeared to be pure energy, shooting from its previous position into the tiny glow he held. Slowly the glowing body shrank-which was amazingly possible.
When it finally subsided, in his fingers he held a tiny baby girl, quite alive and quite peacefully asleep, hugging his thumb with her two small arms. Quote: "Yech!" Taiki had yelped as the carcass began to glow. It's radiating light brought that sense of fright back to him, and left him longing again and again to return back to work. Back to the Siamese desk, where he could rant and rave and confess his confusion in perfect chaotic harmony. He had stared at the sight, wincing and leaning back at the vexing nature of the radiant light. Then he had glanced down, and to his surprise the relic itself had began to vanish. Something odd. Something very odd.
His neck had been liberated at last - and in a worried manner he had watched its captor simmer into the shimmering body. Then it was gone - and something else was left - something even more awkward ... And so very alive. He had become pale, wide-eyed, and startled. A baby. A baby? Not only an infant, but one certainly not very large. It was ... Fairy tale indeed. His hand had been raised up to his face, his eyes observing the form curiously as he brought his thumb and hand near to his eyes. "I am insane." He whispered to himself, shaking his head as he lowered his hand, wrapping his other near is thumb as if to be protective and prevent the small, sleeping child from ever falling and splattering against the ground below. Quote: As he seemingly "claimed" the child, the door reappeared behind him, wide open. On the other side his body-and now upon his chest the body of the child-waited. He was practically dragged back into his body, and the child into hers. Now that he was awake he could see to suitably finding a place to put her. Quote: There had scarcely been a moment left to think as he fell through the door again, sliding back into his own body which had earned its own addition. Like that, the brief darkness had vanished. His eyes had shot open as he became stiff. His heart had pattered as he breathed, a bit of perspiration sliding down the back of his neck until he looked to his chest again to find ... No dream. No accident. Reality. The relic was gone. Inhaling staggered breaths, he had quickly taken the child and sat up with her in his hands, staring down at her with both surprise and dread. But the peace of her form. The distant, subtle kindness of that garden had almost pressured him. He had felt himself smile lightly - for the first time in seeming days. Then he had laid her down on one of the end tables before plopping down on his die.
Breakfast conversations were certainly going to be interesting when morning came ...
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Posted: Wed May 07, 2008 3:47 pm
 Taiki After a long day at work and chattering with Elliot, I had returned home. My mind was weary. My head was aching, and I simply wanted to collapse and forget about the entire ordeals. Certainly, Elliot had been more than a pleasant ear for my concerns. He had listened. He had nodded. Occasionally he had uttered a comment - but there had been a distant ounce of respect, almost peculiar, to his tone until he suggested breakfast early in the morning before work.
But the details of such a matter are irrelevant to this documentation. Rather, what is important is that I fell asleep upon the couch almost immediately after returning home. That blissful darkness to over-take me had never been more welcome. Unfortunately, it was soon shattered by events I could not have foretold. I was ripped from my body and led astray by that awkward pendant that had imprisoned my neck. It was strange in its paranormal ideation. The object of an out of body experience can not be minced. In fact, it appears to defy logic - but I have steadily come to realize that the illogical can exist within reality and desires no justification. Why question? I will question because it is my nature. How could something so bizarre happen? I do not know. Maybe I will never know, but until then I have to wonder the surreality that was witnessing myself asleep haphazardly on the couch. More so, I had to wonder about the validity of the experience itself.
I had ventured through a door, only to find myself lodged within a traditional garden. A traditional Japanese garden, which I am naturally vaguely familiar with. It was serene, quiet, and enchanting until I came across a small house belonging to a resident akin to the One-Inch Boy - a fairy tale similar to Thumblina and Tom Thumb. The resident of this house was a tiny woman no bigger than my hand. Crushed, trampled as if she were an insect to be ignored. Indeed, there is nothing more horrific than an accidental casualty so brutal in nature. Isn't it reminiscent of the zombie outbreaks? The blowing up of the mansion and those who unfortunately remained inside ...
I had observed this body in my mortified state before kneeling in respect. Something compelled me to draw closer. The pendant lured me closer - and before I knew it I had lifted the fallen, small woman. I had observed her a while longer before a soft glow had emerged. It may have been blinding had the woman been larger, but it only proved a mild irritant soon to fade ... And when it did ... When it did there was something new. A child. everything had come true. A child had been born of the pendant.
... And even more bizarre?
She is no larger than my thumb.
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