hey, lover

velgroverp

[vel-misol]

intro - bio - profile - plots/connections

[vel-misol]

thread for 01/11 ⤷ activity check! ( task 31 )

[velxgraves]

and the tide, oh the tide of misol's emotion. there in her sweet inhale, crashing to the shores of him when she exhales. there is a dreadful knowing in her, a prideful trembling so great it shook against the boundaries of her form. the silence is loud. and yet sol graves gentle rocks in its eddies. its swirls. a storm not meant for him. yet.

instead his gaze is on the lighthouse her need makes, the glowing eye at the center of her maelstrom. and so when she speaks, those truths and lies tumble free. "are you listening to him?" he asks instead laying fault or blame, tone mild and calm; one eye searching her from the shadows of a passing cloud. "have you told him you feel like he isn't hearing you?"

isn't he your friend? she asks. and it hurts. because yes. because no. because maybe so. can you still be friends with a ghost? "sumyeong hasn't spoken to me about your troubles." and then he grows solemn. serious. lifting onto one elbow to catch yang misol's eyes so she knows. "but he does not find you and your brother troubling or frustrating." a breath. "you look like your mother. both of you. we know."

[vel-misol]

the questions that were posed were quite simple, but they left misol for a loss of words. spending time with the other truly put into perspective how childish she was behaving. had she always been this way? did it only begin at the sudden departure of her mother, or was it something about this town? ever since they'd arrived, her whole life flipped upside down— misol was like an entirely different person.

she couldn't raise her eye at the other, her head hanging in shame. but she listened quietly, knowing that each word uttered from graves' lips held true. there wasn't a moment in which she stopped to take into account how her uncle really felt about anything, speaking only for herself and leaving the room before he could even vocalize his own truth. at the mention of her mother, however, misol looked up at the other in awe before she could even think to stop herself.

"w-we do?" the worlds stumbled aloud without much thought. "you knew her too?"

there was so much misol did not know about her mother or even those she now surrounded herself with.

"were you close? how did you meet? what was she like back then?" a catapult of questions shot out with desperate curiosity.

[vel-sumyeong]

"were you wanting to use the kitchen? i didn't mean to be in the way..." / @vel-misol

he watches her from the corner of his eye / much like he's been doing between misol and hansol. always keeping his distance, watching on the sidelines in case if they might ever need him. he never expected they would, not unless if it was for something official like work or the farmhouse. but in this moment, it almost feels as if he's begging for it to be different. he's scared to think this moment is different from all the silence that has existed between them thus far / he's terrified it might be the same and nothing has changed at all.

"no!" sumyeong is quick to object at her comment before he pulls the strings to puppeteer himself / to reconstruct. "no," he says again, softer. "you're not in the way. i just meant that if you haven't eaten- maybe we could eat together before starting the day?" he waits a quiet second before he moves into the kitchen, into the space that misol was occupying. a part of him wants to run before she can, to be the one that messes up so that if she wants to be angry at him she can. but he can sense the difference. misol stands wounded, but this time she doesn't look at him as if it were his fault.

he rummages around the cupboards aimlessly, before his hand lands on an unopened jar of honeyed raspberry jam. he'd made this a few months before hansol and misol had arrived / thinking of yesol. he wonders, if misol knows that was his sister's / her mother's favorite type of jam spread / wonders how different the yesol he knew may have been to the one that misol knew. his fingers dance on the cover as he sits between that line of diving into his past and opening the door to his future / one without yesol.

he grips the small jar and pulls it from the pantry, turning to misol with silent resolve, "have you ever had honeyed raspberry jam?"

[vel-misol]

ever since her rescue, the air had been different between the two. the hostility she'd once held towards her uncle with zero regard for his feelings became stagnant. in it's place, she felt a strange feeling of sadness regret? squeezing tightly in her chest. there were passing moments in which the memory of running into his arms for help— the safety and relief that she had felt in that moment— was capable of bringing misol to tears. she wanted to make up for all the petty arguments and behavior she'd exhibited before, but how?

it was almost startling how swift his response was, as if desperate to ensure that she stayed. the assumption only stung her feelings deeper. in hindsight, misol realized how awful she had been all this time. she couldn't find the words to speak, only able to return a timid nod in response. quietly, the girl settles into a space at the table, but her eyes are earnestly watching each small movement of the other rummaging about the kitchen.

misol shakes her head again, side to side, insinuating a no. there are several thoughts that pop up in her mind. very many land, just barely, on the tip of her tongue before she swallows them whole again. the kitchen is drowned in another bout of silence that seems as if it is going on forever. the feeling of discomfort eventually coerced a reply out of the girl, struggling to string a sentence together. "is that your favorite sort of breakfast item jam?"

[vel-misol]

❝ provide a list, give us a snippet of them writing it, their thought process, anything in relation to its creation. ❞ ⤷ activity check! ( task 30 )

YANG MISOL'S 2026 RESOLUTIONS

get a boyfriend

truthfully, this was more of a goal than a resolution, but it made it's was up to the top of her list every year without fail. this year, however, misol could not excuse her sorry state of mind that remained unchanged since her disappearance. it was if she were forever stuck in that conservatory, still running away from the thing that hid even in the shadows of her happiest of dreams. nothing felt safe. the fleeting feelings of butterflies she once knew through brief encounters felt so small and insignificant now.

pick up a new hobby

there was so much to do and learn from the residents in velgrove. perhaps it would help in keeping negative thoughts at bay. and if it lead to another career path (or new sense of purpose), there was little for her to lose in exploring different endeavors.

spend more time with uncle sumyeong

there is little need to expand on this.

talk to others more

drink less

find mom

having been in the town for as long as they had been, misol could hardly remember what life had been like prior to their arrival— nearly forgotten their purpose for even moving out to the town. she'd been distracted, but it was time to regroup with hansol and refocus on what was important: bringing their mom back home. after all of the supernatural events they had experienced first hand, she was certain that there was more to her disappearance than simply running away. yang yesol was out there, and she would accept no other answer.

[vel-misol]

❝ a star is worth a hundred wishes — ❞ ⤷ activity check! ( task 028 )

there was once a time in which misol would smile brightly at each star that shined brightly. just as they sat so high in the sky, those days also felt so impossibly far away from her. had it not been the dead of night, the swift streak of light would have gone unnoticed. suddenly, the cynical thoughts that wandered around her mind just seconds prior were gone, swept away by the sudden movement of her body. it was funny, really, how naturally she shifted stances. misol's lax posture immediately straightened as her hands joined together, fingers tightly intertwined between one another.

once a dreamer, always a dreamer.

after that night, a new flower greeted the girl each morning. while she was skeptical at first, it had eventually grown into a beautiful bouquet. each petal— regardless of it's tenure on the window sill— remained fresh and pristine. there was no denying the simply beauty of the flowers, thus, she eventually gave in to their sweet scent.

though she could not say that she had yet returned to her old self, misol felt remnants of who she once was with each passing day. the sun felt a bit warmer and the shadows a little less daunting.

[vel-misol]

activity check - task 27

thread for 12/14

💬 0  🔁 1  ❤️ 1 · misol spent far too much time sitting at the edge of her bed despite being completely ready for her departure. the girl had

[eudoravel]

who: @vel-misol where: town square → the decaying tree when: day two of the harvest festival, 124DF10

the air in velgrove's town square is thick with the spice of the harvest season: sage and cinnamon, apple and sweet dough, woodsmoke and tilled earth.

eudora stands, entirely too awkwardly, at the corner of a pop-up stall—one in a line of such vendors set up across the square, food stalls and home-baked treats, silk scarves and jewelry, paintings and illustrations. tomorrow, she will set up her own stall—a little booth with her photography on display, insignificant, invaluable moments stacked and priced for spare change.

but today, she is nothing more than another face in the crowd ; a local out to enjoy the festival. and she's not alone, either.

her dark eyes roam over the table of this particular stall, its surface laden with a unique set of treasures—ingredients for well wishing satchels: bowls of dried herbs, small carved tokens, chips of crystalline rock, bits of ribbon, stones smooth from riverbeds.

eudora hardly startles when misol's sleeve brushes her own ; only tilts her face in greeting, a soft smile spreading easily across her lips.

"i almost thought you weren't coming," she says, attempting something like a joke—but she can't read how misol takes it. perhaps misol is not in the mood for jokes ( and eudora couldn't blame her if she wasn't ).

the woman working the stall is elderly, her face etched with lines, like a map ; the pair of quiet girls lingering at the corner of the stall do not escape her. she waves a gnarled hand at them, curling one finger, gesturing them closer. eudora sidles to the edge of the table obediently, head bowed slightly, sleeve still brushing misol's.

an array of empty fabric pouches, each one hand-dyed, are scattered between the herbs and charms.

choose your colors, the old woman tells them, and eudora nods, already trying to decide. her eyes move over her options, moonwater grey and ash white linen, dried rose and shadowed plum, soft green and wheat gold. her hand extends, hovers, hesitates. her eyes bounce to misol's face.

"which color are you choosing ?"

[vel-misol]

misol spent far too much time sitting at the edge of her bed despite being completely ready for her departure. the girl had half a mind to apologize to her housemate and stay holed up in her room for yet another day rather than join the plans she'd previously accepted. despite the temptation, however, each time she'd imagined the different expressions the other would wear in response, she ultimately couldn't bring herself to do so. she must persevere.

each step was careful and slow, like a deer wandering cautiously through the woods. despite the sun shining down on her, the empty streets on the way to the festival activities brought an eerie silence that sent shivers down her spine. the nagging fear of someone something suddenly jumping out at her from any surrounding direction was almost enough to make misol retreat, but she, instead, began to move with haste; her hands balled up into fists to keep them from shaking violently in fear.

her hurried steps distracted her thoughts— so much so, she had almost missed the very person she'd set out to meet.

"eudora." as if she'd been holding her breath throughout the duration of her travel, the other's name escaped from her lips in a sigh of relief. several emotions rushed over misol in only a matter of seconds; comfort, serenity, embarrassment, shame. she couldn't muster up a response, all things considered.

misol was thankful for the shift of attention towards the goods before them.

"i'm unsure..." she hummed quietly. "do you think that different colors might have different meanings— like flowers do?"

[vel-misol]

activity check- task 026

thread for 10/07

[velxgraves]

there is no divinity in sol graves. no universal truth. no all-consuming and omniscient knowledge. back to the dirt and face to the sky, he is but one human among many other humans. one strange, but still common blip in the eternal life of the universe. an existence such as his walks along its path back to the dust from whence it came.

except...

i promise, he'd said a decade ago and against all odds something listened. and in his return sol graves gained a constant. not all but no less consuming. a place to set their worries down.

"how can you know if you haven't tried?" he asks without judgement. and then he deliberates. what is right and wrong in a life such as theirs?

"i think you are doing something," he begins, navigating the words like a seaman to the stars. "do you feel like it's wrong?"

[vel-misol]

misol opened her mouth to speak— an answer sat on the tip of her tongue, but ultimately, no sound escaped her lips. despite knowing deep down that there was an obvious answer to his very simple question, misol's pride kept her from uttering the words out loud.

she in fact knew that the way she reacted to her uncle was wrong, and in doing so, she wound up treating him poorly each time. she was, indeed, conscious of how childish her antics were, but she couldn't explain why she continued to act the way she did. perhaps it was because misol knew that whatever she did, he would never retaliate back at her. or maybe she wanted a reaction.

"i have tried." though it was a stretch, there was a hint of truth mingled within her lies words. "but it's not my fault if he never listens, right?" she felt a frustration rise up in her bones as the image of her uncle's face flashed through her mind in that moment.

"isn't he your friend? has he ever talked to you about me at all? i'm sure he's just as frustrated having to house hansol and me out of the blue— who knows if he even believes if we are who we say we are!"

[vel-misol]

❝ it's been a restless night and your muse has struggled to get a good night's rest, whether it be due to an eerie, a sick friend/relative/neighbor in need, animals being restless, bad dreams, or simply one of those nights. when they wake in the morning, they find that a bouquet of flowers has been delivered to their doorstep. how does your muse react? how do they interpret receiving the flowers? ❞ ⤷ activity check! ( task 025 )

misol had believed that all was well. she was participating in the town festivities, regularly showing up to her shifts at the patisserie, and even tending to the farm animals without feeling the need to look over her shoulder every two seconds.

she was healing.

there was never a doubt in her mind that these words rang true. at least, not when the sun was high in the sky. when the moon rose each night— it's sinister glow illuminating the ground just enough to emphasize the shadows flooding all around her— all progress of recovery proved itself futile.

falling asleep was a luxury too difficult for misol to achieve. to close her eyes meant relieving the horrors of the conservatory all over again. while the whole town had moved on from the incident of her disappearance, misol remained stuck in that moment. every gust of wind sent a chill down her spine. her nose had become as sensitive to smells as her stomach had. foods in which she'd indulged in time and time again were no longer able to settle.

she could run away from her nightmares whenever she opened her eyes, but in doing so, her mind wandered anxiously amongst the bedroom she no longer felt much comfort in. misol feared what might be hiding in the shadows; what creature sat in the blanket of darkness, simply waiting for the girl to lay eyes on them?

misol often resigned to her tears. her fear and exhaustion eventually wore thin, allowing an hour or two of slumber before the sun began to rise, it's rays peeking through her curtains to greet her once more.

sunken eyes and a pale complexion had become her norm. while, initially, it had been a cause of alarm for those who had grown familiar with the hano-dullum native during her recent time in velgrove, the act of misol willing to dress herself and leave the house on her own accord showed signs of welcome progress.

her body had grown so accustomed to acting on muscle memory alone that she'd nearly stomped right over the bouquet placed on the doorstep of the porch.

admittedly, misol was entirely unfamiliar with the language of flowers, but she had always adored their beauty. once upon a time, the girl would have giggled over the idea of a secret admirer having left the bundled flowers as a gift to garner her attention. these days, however, her thoughts strayed far from simple crushes that made her swoon as

a card read: "the fragile start of healing"; no sender listed.

still, misol hugged the bouquet tightly as tears streamed down her face. not much long after, her knees gave in and she found herself sitting helplessly on the floor. perhaps now was the perfect time to retreat back to her room to truly rest.

[vel-misol]

❝ the electricity has suddenly gone out and the landline emits a silence so deep, it sounds as if something is listening in rather than your muse listening out. a look outside confirms that everything else seems to be in order as streetlights in town are still working. how does your muse react? what do they do? does your muse stay where they are? or do they seek refuge elsewhere? ❞

⤷ activity check! ( task 022)

the silence was deafening.

she hadn’t realized how true that saying could be until she’d experienced it first hand. the power was cut; in her first instinct was to hide. misol couldn’t bring herself to scream for help, too overcome with a sense of déjà vu in the darkness.

first came a headache. she could feel each pulse of her brain as it throbbed. the pain behind her eyes was tight. desperate to put the tension to rest, misol squeezed her eyes shut with all her might, but to no avail. her vision began to blur and it felt as though the world was spinning at top speed.

misol stumbled around in search of an item to ground her, only to find herself falling down onto her knees. her small fists balled up to grab hold of her blouse with a desperate iron grip. what little gasps of air she could manage to breathe in were sharp and uneven, cutting her lungs like knives— but what else was she to do? misol felt like a fish on land, tossing and turning all just to survive.

she hated every second.

in her agony, misol could not say whether the scent that rose up from the ground had simply been the mulch from the farm yard outside, or if it was the monster of the conservatory coming back to claim what had been lost from it’s clutches not too long ago— she couldn’t even recall what she’d been doing at the time of the power outage.

like the electricity, her mind had blanked out as well.

[vel-misol]

❝ your muse sends a letter to someone outside velgrove. ❞ ⤷ activity check! ( task 021 )

my dearest, theo,

i do hope this letter finds you well— although i'm certain that it must be confusing for you to hear from me.

firstly, i should probably apologize for my abrupt departure. your words of comfort in my time of need did not fall on deaf ears, i assure you. it is no excuse, but i truly could not bring myself to reply to your letters at that time. in the end, i wound up doing unto you as was done to me.

please understand that while our relationship was a bud on the verge of blooming, hansol is my family. i couldn't bear the thought of being separated— especially when the journey into the unknown would have been far too arduous alone. and what would become of me if the unimaginable were to happen to him in my absence? what would have become of us in the face of such tragedy?

nevertheless, i've found myself in a dark place once more, and your face drifted into my mind. for a moment, all was tranquil (you have always been a sight for sore eyes, after all).

sometimes i wonder what could have been if i had stayed. would we have been happy? could i have learned to accept a life without my mother...without hansol?

but i digress.

i wish you all the happiness and good health from velgrove.

yours truly,

yang misol

[vel-misol]

❝ velgrove typically sees a small increase in visitors during the week as some come to see the dawnfire fountain for the phenomenon it is. for whatever reason, it seems these visitors are more susceptible to disappearing within velgrove. ❞ ⤷ open starter

even out in hano-dullum, misol had always heard word of velgrove's festivals. each year, her classmates would buzz about the school halls of the small town's mystical (and unbelievable) happenings around the harvest time. to some, the gimmicks were well worth the journey out to velgrove.

when the idea had first come about for the twins to pack up their things and venture out into the very same town in search of their mother, misol couldn't deny the hint of excitement deep within her to eventually be able to witness the stories of old firsthand. of course, in hindsight, the girl would eventually learn that the town's mysteries were not the fun and games she'd grown up hearing about. instead, they were e e r i e and dreadful— misol would never wish the experience upon anyone.

yet, the word of the golden fountain had spread far and wide, ushering visitors from many neighboring towns to come flocking in. and again, the marvels of velgrove once again reared it's ugly head.

even at it's first lighting, misol could not calm the uneasy feeling felt within her. the sight of the chrysanthemum being set ablaze made her sick. was it her imagination running rampant or was it a strange case of déjà vu? all she knew for sure was that the sight of the golden fountain made misol feel uneasy.

as she watched yet another suitcase roll its way into the sheriff's office, misol couldn't help but wonder if she was the only person in all of velgrove who even noticed— who even cared.

her thoughts were interrupted with haste at the sound of footsteps coming from behind. jumping with a start, misol was completely prepared to dash away until she'd caught sight of a familiar face.

"have the harvest festivities been so dull that you've turned your attention towards little 'ol me instead?" there was a bite in her words that had not often been present during her initial arrival to town. but lately, misol had found herself guarded even amongst those she had befriended.

"is there something you needed of me?"

[everydays]

WINTER — 'WHIPLASH' COUNTDOWN LIVE (241021)

[vel-misol]

activity check! ( task 020 )

thread for activity check 10/26

[vel-sumyeong]

"did you...need any help with anything?" / @vel-misol

sumyeong had never quite been one who believed in gods or saints. how could you believe that mercy existed in a place like velgrove? to him, it didn't change his quality of life or way of living / was there reason to hang onto false hope in such a way? this is what sumyeong has always believed in and nothing has ever shaken this belief. but when misol disappeared / those agonizing days of wondering if she was alive or not / sumyeong had never wished more for there to be any god out there listening to his prayers.

when he found misol in jane's arms / sumyeong didn't recall much. only pulling misol into his arms before leading him and jane out of glassmire / the unforgiving trap that it was / back to safety, a cruel irony in the face of their reality. the day that something worse than velgrove had arrived and brought sumyeong's worst nightmare to life. and even though misol had been retrieved, alive, it was too close to his comfort. nursing misol back to health was wretched / to see how haggard she had grown over the course of a few days. sumyeong had to remind himself that she was home now, but there was little he found to help dispel the fears that still existed.

so the last thing that sumyeong expects that morning is to find misol waiting for him / a blank sheet in front of them for something he hadn't expected. the expression in her eyes before she looks away, it tugs somewhere deep in him, and sumyeong is whisked back to the night misol was finally brought home. crying in earnest / in secret. he's shocked, but it's a mixture of so many different things that lifts him. still, he too, struggles.

"you should still be resting," sumyeong opts for, he hopes it sounds gentle rather than patronizing. his nerves win though, and he speaks up again. "i-i mean you don't have to overexert yourself. there's plenty to do, but also plenty of hands to make sure things get done, so you don't have to worry."

"have you had breakfast yet?"

[vel-misol]

was he upset?

prior to her disappearance, misol knew that such a response would have provoked an irritable reaction on her reaction. having been so easily aggravated, the girl would have replied snippily; defensive. but with her brand new perspective, she knew better than to jump at his throat like a rabid dog. instead, she chose to bite her tongue and acknowledge the facts of the matter.

firstly, he had blatantly expressed his concern. although she, herself, had been feeling restless and anxious, stuck to her sheets like a paper weight, the same could not be said about those around misol. while it felt as though her world had stopped turning, theirs had continued to rotate with or without her present. despite her uncle's words, there was much work to make up for (no thanks to her absence). misol hadn't the heart, nor the energy, to put up a fight.

secondly, she could no longer turn a blind eye to her uncle's tiptoeing around misol to avoid her wrath. there was no telling what thoughts lingered around in his mind, but she had only felt sorrow and guilt whenever she looked towards him. thus, all she could muster up was a soft sigh, accompanied by a stern shake of her head.

"were you wanting to use the kitchen? i didn't mean to be in the way..."