Welcome to Ink&Font, a predominantly personal site which also houses the writing works of the webmistress, chiiyo. All works, graphics and layouts belong to chiiyo. Please email chiiyo if you wish to take anything from the site or if the site does not work well on your computer. Thank you.

latest update
02.11.08 - I've had my writing and art site over at Ricepaper for the longest time, even though I've had the fluid-soul domain for almost five years now, I've never had the time to move over my writing site... Photography is now over at my flickr site. ^_^ This is a temporary and cosmetic move over to my fluid-soul domain because the ricepaper site no longer works. In time I will need to overhaul this site too, but for now it's just going to be the old Ricepaper design with some minor changes. ^_^

(And goodness this site is still in the old HTML 4.0 coding, tables for design and all. O_o. It desperately needs to be XHTML.)

latest freewrite entries
Work in Progress for the Rhaen and Bliss story
A gust of wind. It blows through her long long hair, rustles through the thick patches of white feathers on her wings. Her eyes, brilliantly purple, blink, once, twice, as the wind envelopes her, caresses her, and then passes her without so much as a whisper.

His eyes filled with confusion, looking at the prone figure in his arms, his instinct screaming at him to protect her, even as her eyes gaze at him, emotions running from hate to fear. Suddenly, he felt something. In his heart, something, no, someone takes over. And he is pushed to one side in his mind, unable to control his movements, only able to silently, helplessly, watch on as another being assumes control over his body. He could feel his mouth slide up to a smile, an unkind smile, as his arms tighten their hold on her. A familiar figure, he realises, to the being that is now Rhaen. A voice that is not his, and yet coming from his mouth. "Princess." It enunciates, with a crisp edge to it, almost mocking. The girl squirmed, her mouth open, but nothing comes out of it.

She screams, every cell of her body in desperate pain. And all he could do was to drop to his knees and take her frail body in his arms, cradling it, rocking her body to and fro, whispering nonsensical words and terms, trying to calm himself down as much as he was trying to calm her down. But the screaming doesn't stop. In desperation, he envelopes her foetal position with his own body, so much bigger than hers that he covers her entirely, and links his mind to hers. He choked down his own cry as the pain rushed through the mind link and flooded his own senses, and he winced as the pain started to subside, as she fell into a dreamless sleep, her tears drying on his arms, on her face, on the bare floor.
freely written on 1st January 2005, 12:15 a.m.