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@velhansol
hello! i'm ting, 24, she/they. timezone is GMT -4. i'm so excited to finally introduce YANG HANSOL! my awkward wannabe hero gone detective? i've added some extra information under the cut, as well as some links in case anyone wants a deeper look. i'd prefer plotting through tumblr dms, but if that's an issue, let me know! i'd be happy to figure out better alternatives. hope to chat with you all soon!
STORY. — PLOTS (tbd). — PROFILE.
activity check ( task 031 ) "what if they were a scent or combination? is there a scent that embodies their aura?"
light, summer scents capture hansol's essence. upon first breath, notes of ripe citrus tickle olfactory senses. the tangy scent entices one to take a bite of the sour fruits, yet, after the initial playfulness of the citrus, the smell evolves into a less aromatic smell. there's middle notes of wildflowers as a reminder for the heart that there is never a definitive answer for life's mysteries. the wildflowers symbolize an untamed spirit, but also a strong community. each petal grown under the sun's rays is important, and all should be considered. together, bundled up into one bouquet, the wildflowers create a mild, everlasting scent. at its core, an earthy cedarwood scent serves as a recollection of the roots needed to build a strong foundation. and although more modest, the evergreen scent remains uninfluenced by the summer's hot, dry breeze. neither swaying masculine nor feminine, his scent embodies a pleasant summer solstice.
show me the light @vel-misol
undoubtedly, the town had caused a rift in a lot of hansol's relationships. throughout everything, there had been this constant paranoia guarding hansol from feeling completely defenseless. in turn, much of hansol's loved ones were kept at a distance. prior to their arrival in velgrove, hansol could confidently guess what went on in misol's mind. there wasn't a story they didn't share, mainly due to their close proximity making it a shared experience. yet, when misol disappeared, his own insecurities consumed him, and his inability to be a protector became the sole reason he kept his distance. he wasn't proud of his distance. in fact, he felt hopeless in trying to pretend that he was there to begin with.
truthfully, despite the guilt and shame that kept him quiet, the solitude only allowed the feeling to grow. deep down, hansol knew that keeping to himself would waste all the time he could spend with his loved ones. hence, he stood in front of misol's bedroom door, his soft knuckles rhythmically tapping the wooden door. "hey! are you in there?" hansol called out, hoping his twin would invite him in.
activity check ( task 028 )
perhaps as a young boy, hansol often wished on shooting stars in hopes that his wildest dreams would come to fruition. his little hands could clasp together, eyes tightly shut as his child-like imagination took control. fame. money. a father figure. although his dreams seemed unrealistic, the underlying themes were certainly obtainable if not for the fact that the universe had other plans for the boy.
even after numerous failed attempts at wishing for his life to be different, hansol found himself opening his window to gaze out at the night sky. the stars were gliding across the horizon, and hansol once again hoped that, if he wished a little harder this time, his life could be different. though, this time his wish remained simple.
calm amongst the storm.
while it was possible that the universe once again refused to grant his wish, the next day hansol woke up with more pep in his step. oddly enough, that day hansol found his life to be entirely mundane. there was no adventure. no one in need for hansol to help. he was able to rest easy with a strong heart and a clear mind.
"hansol, my dear YOUNGER twin brother. i've put together a satchel containing petals of jasmine and rose to wish you protection. i feel uneasy about this festival. i know it is impossible to keep you from sleuthing entirely, so instead, i urge you to be EXTRA careful and vigilant around velgrove. i don't ever want you to experience what i did— i will always be by your side, just say the word and i'll be there."
even after all the twins had been through, there was still a boyish side of hansol that wanted to express annoyance in the petty reminder of his delayed arrival into this world. he wanted to remind misol that, despite being the younger twin, he had grown from the smaller, fragile child he once was. and, perhaps after so many tests to his courage, hansol could finally be seen as a man. however, with their days of shared laughter feeling more like a distant memory, hansol kept his immature responses to himself.
for awhile the satchel remained in hansol's left coat pocket. it served as a reminder to not stray too far into the unknown, though hansol and his sister were both aware his curiosity would steamroll any logic given to combat his growing desire for exploration. hence why on the night of the cryptic invitation to the library, hansol walked home with his fists curled in his two pockets. his right hand held tightly to the strange letter, and his left squeezed the satchel full of petals in hopes that misol's manifestations would provide him a safe walk back to his room.
as a precaution, hansol would move the satchel from his pocket at before he slept. the strings of the satchel draped loosely around the bedpost above his head to ward off any negative energy, and though it did not deter the statue's wandering eyes, the thought of his twin's kind words and wishes helped hansol rest easier. each day the satchel was a reminder of his own limitations that he often neglected. in the night, it served its purpose of protection (at least in hansol's mind). the ominous knocks remained a syncopated rhythm on his wooden door. the surveilling maiden always disappeared in the morning. hansol was left untouched.
hansol wished to express his gratitude for the words he was unable to express to his twin. since her disappearance, hansol had made sure to keep his theories and anxieties trapped in his own mind. he couldn't imagine venting to her after what she had been through, knowing that the strange occurrences in his own life (although scary) were not fought without the support of others. misol, however, must have felt more alone without any reassurance that things would turn up in the end. hansol was forever grateful that his sister came back alive, but, with no true end to the strange mysteries this town had offered, hansol knew there could be another day where misol would turn up missing again.
or worse.
on the third day of the harvest, hansol woke up early to gather supplies for his own satchels. he knew he wanted to make one for misol to carry around as well (though he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to put in it), but, after hearing about some of the town's traditions, hansol decided to also make a satchel to hang on the tree in wither's end. tucked within the small satchel were a few sprigs of rosemary, lavender, petals of jasmine, and a small note hansol had wrote himself.
may the heavens grace us with mercy this harvest.
activity check ( task 026 )
night one: hansol was terrified, considering the current situation in his bedroom. coincidentally, the first night was the start of the statue watching him closely. the three knocks that had followed only made him more paranoid.
he doesn't answer, although he questioned whether the two were ever correlated. he wasn't even sure he wanted to find out. at least alone. there was no way hansol could take on anyone, let alone the statue already in his room.
night two: his paranoia was still alive and well. the surveilling eyes watched to see if this was the day hansol would be brave enough to answer the call. unfortunately, hansol caught himself yet again shaking under the blanket, waiting for something to happen. hansol knew his eyes would close eventually, leaving him completely vulnerable.
that night hansol was sure that, if the stranger came back to knock again the second day, they surely had some sort of business (that quite frankly, hansol had no desire to attend to).
night three: he doesn't pick up on the knock sequence until the third day, which is when he started to write what he claimed to have been his will (more so his last words before he was eternally silenced). if the stranger had knocked three times the first day, two times the second day, and the third day only once, hansol was sure that there would be no fourth day.
despite living on to see the fourth day, hansol was left in the same place he started, confused. and between the library invitation, the statue in his room, the bouquet, and the knocks, hansol wasn't sure if this was a dream or another eerie build-up into another unfortunate fate for velgrove.
activity check ( task 025 ) scilla, "resilience under pressure"
in a way, hansol's body had grown accustomed to the statue that sat nestled in the corner of his room. his mind remained wary, as it did with the majority of things that hansol encountered in velgrove. to hansol, this statue was much like a bully in school. his body remained vigilant, though on the outside it seemed as though hansol was more annoyed than anything. it was another night of hansol staring into its eyes until his own closed on him. another night where he feared the consequences of entering the dream realm. and yet, hansol opened his eyes to be greeted by another sunrise. once again, the statue left his side before it could be exposed to the light that peeked through hansol's window. he remained untouched despite being under surveillance when he was most vulnerable. his chest expanded to gather enough air for a heavy sigh as he prepared to carry on with his day (and the eventual night with his new friend). at his feet just beyond the doorway was a bouquet of scilla flowers. it was yet another mystery this town had gifted him, as the sender had seemed to have forgotten to leave a signature.
part of hansol wished that he could claim the bouquet was from a secret admirer. however, with the way his days went in velgrove, there was definitely a high chance that the statue could have gifted this before their departure. that or it was the mysterious man from the library incident.
for his own sanity, hansol chose to believe it was someone close to him, perhaps a friend or family member. as he flipped over the small placard, a smile grew on his face.
resilience under pressure
whoever it was, hansol was grateful. although his body was ready to give up, the gift gave him the confidence to keep moving forward.
activity check ( task 024 ) "two days ago, your muse was hand-delivered a letter that clearly summons them to town hall / the sheriff's office / the lakehouse library. upon arriving at the location, no one claims to have sent a letter requesting for their presence. more importantly, when your muse pulls the letter out as proof, the page has completely transformed filled with foreign words and a sketch that resembled the man who gave them the letter."
someone in town gave hansol a letter requesting his presence at the lakehouse library. the sender was unknown. hansol did not know enough people in town to recognize the writer by their handwriting.
at first hansol's mind thought about everyone in velgrove he had already met, though any of them being the sender felt wrong. he figured if any of them needed him, they knew where to find him, which made him wonder if it was really safe to travel to the library alone.
hansol goes to the library just before the doors shut for the day, hoping that the person would show up (and hopefully come with good intentions). however, when he got there, the only ones inside were hansol and those who worked there. he asked if the letter pertained the library itself. perhaps hansol had borrowed a book he forgot to return.
that wasn't it. though, hansol still pulled out the letter to show in hopes of jogging the librarian's memory. still, nothing. in fact, by the time hansol had opened the letter up, the paper had changed completely.
hansol left the library that night very confused and a little afraid, clutching the letter tightly in his coat pocket. only one question was on his mind: was the man real?
"you did this as a joke. i get it. and now you want me to help you." / @velhansol
sumyeong gnaws on his bottom lip, standing on the line between paranoia and skepticism. he's run the different ideas through his mind what feels like a hundred times in the amount of time that they've stood staring at the sheep, trying to rationalize every bit of it. of the hundred, sumyeon could only surmise that someone had to have put the sheep up there. by what reason, that he couldn't pinpoint.
a part of his attention is taken away as he watches from the side of his eyes as hansol pulls out his notepad and scribbles something down. it occupies sumyeong's thought for a second / he had seen hansol around the farm a few times with that notepad, but had never known what hansol was notating during his time in velgrove thus far. the curiosity sits there and the question almost slips from his mind / what are you writing about? / but with his lip caught between his teeth, sumyeong manages to keep it to himself. the last thing he needed for his niece and nephew to think was that their uncle was going to pry himself into their personal lives.
to hansol's response, sumyeong emits a dry laugh, feeling a bit embarassed at how logical it was. "that's… true. i think it might be even harder trying to use a ladder to force it down if there's another way we can maneuver it off the roof."
"maybe… one of the other farmhands found a way to put it up there as a joke…" sumyeong mutters under his breath. he tries to hide the chills that runs down his spine as other ideas start to swim through his mind. but then what hansol says next catches him offguard.
"that sounds like it'd make sense, right?" a part of sumyeong debates if he should just agree / if it would be easier for hansol if sumeyong just said yes. could it be that hansol thought sumyeong did this so they could spend more time together?
"is it not?" his head cocked to the right in curiosity, "if it's not you then...well...it's kind of a sick joke for the sheep, no?" hansol closed his notepad and shoved it back into his pocket. even if sumyeong wasn't the culprit of this strange prank, hansol felt like walking away and leaving sumyeong to take care of it would be unfair. there was a part of him that felt like this incident could get sumyeong closer to him. something that he quietly desired.
something that he chose not to admit, though there was no reason to hide it. hansol, however, never felt good with sharing his vulnerabilities with other people. most times hansol had a hard time even expressing his feelings to misol, the only person he ever shared secrets with. but sumyeong? although he was hansol's uncle, hansol felt like sharing his true feelings of wanting a genuine connection felt too strange. he would rather share his thoughts through small gestures.
so, hansol puffed his chest out and placed his hands on his hips once again, as if he would be the one to single-handedly bring the sheep down from the roof. "maybe we lure it down with....uh...what do they eat...carrots?" his eyes flickered towards his uncle who he thought to be a clear expert in the field.
event 003 — our maiden's harvest "one maiden figure stands at the end of your muse's bed every night of the festival. it does not speak or move at all, except for its head that follows in whichever direction your muse moves to. come morning, the figure always disappears in the same way it appears - in the blink of an eye."
on the first night of the harvest festival, hansol felt eyes watching him at the foot of his bed. at first, he thought the feeling was perhaps his imagination, as the strange occurrences that happened throughout his time here all felt like one lengthy nightmare. since misol's return, hansol's mind had tried to suppress the eerie memories, but of course, his inquisitive mind couldn't shield his eyes from what was right in front of him.
its stone eyes cut through any ounce of bravery hansol had, especially as it watched him pull his feet closer to his chest. his breathing was shallow. eyes fixated on the statue that had now invaded his room despite hansol not understanding how. hansol had not noticed a statue in his room before getting into bed, which made him wonder if he was either too exhausted to notice or if this was not his imagination. yet, with everything that had happened previously, hansol felt he could not brush it off to be another bad dream. no. his eyes had to stay alert in case the veiled maiden inched closer.
except, hansol knew he had to do something about it. there had to be some sort of documentation of this event, something that served as proof to his testimony. the unfortunate problem was that hansol typically kept his pen and notebook under his bed.
his body moved by centimeters, slowly sliding his left shoulder off the side of his mattress so that his reach could extend long enough to grab what he needed. though, even with his entire arm slung over the bed, the journey to his notebook was not an easy reach. hansol could feel the muscles in his arm stretch more than usual, which subsequently sent dull aches as warning signs not to venture further. his fingers crawled along the wooden floorboards under his bed. He tried to pat around to feel for his belongings; however, upon contorting his body a bit further, hansol realized that the statue was moving its head to keep hansol at the center of its vision.
a singular beat from his heart kick-started the fear that rushed through his body. each muscle, from the tip of his finger to the tips of his toes, tensed as if he were the statue himself. any and all hypotheses hansol could come up with for the situation ceased to exist.
he spent the rest of his night with his body curled tightly by his pillow. each minute spent awake was a minute that hansol's eyes fixated on the statue. until his eyelids betrayed him.
in the morning, the statue disappeared, but the fear and curiosity within hansol did not.
eternally ( task 020 )
under the twilight sky hansol felt himself sinking into the damp soil that cushioned him below. his breathing was calm despite being alone. his pen and paper were tucked away and out of sight. there was nothing to be discovered. no bodies to be accounted for. the moon was set to rise, yet this time, hansol was ready to shed the worries that clung to him throughout his day.
he watched as a duck braced itself for landing. its wings flapping dramatically to lighten the impact of its feet hitting the cold lake. ripples kept memory of its presence, and with each new line, hansol's mind began to paint a picture of its own.
no longer was the lake sparkling with rich sapphire and pale orange tones. instead, it mimicked the ground behind him. it was fertile soil that carried the strong, musky scent of decomposing leaves. his hands could feel the dirt stick to the palms of his hands.
he could hear his mother's voice echoing in the trees behind him. yet, when hansol turned back in hope, he only saw an old, rustic building in the distance and himself. a version of him that was not wise enough to walk long distances on his two feet.
he was crawling forward. but towards what?
hansol watched as the small child eagerly raced along the dirt path. he had experienced this before, but it was a deep memory hansol had only recalled through dreams. this time felt a little more real. without hesitation, hansol stood up and tried to walk in the same direction as the child.
there had to be something hansol was missing. a part to the story that hansol did not see or could not remember.
in the distance hansol found the man again. the features of his face were unclear, though hansol had always assumed it was his father. each time this dream played, hansol could hear a low voice calling to him from the tall figure. in reality, hansol had no proof of his father's voice, yet, the baby reached up excitedly. hansol, however, felt a strange feeling in his chest.
"HANSOL!" his eyes flickered to his screaming mother, who was chasing after her wandering child with a fearful expression.
hansol slowly glanced back to the ground beneath him, where the child now appeared. "i..." he hesitated, looking back to notice that the man had disappeared. the child stood up with his fingers extended towards hansol.
and, in a state of panic, hansol woke up.
"is this normal? maybe they used a ladder...?" / @velhansol
sumyeong has absolutely no words. he's seen plenty of weird, creepy, odd, and unsettling things in all his days so far but… this.. this had been a first. in all of his time in velgrove, he had never seen a sheep make its way to the roof of the barn. to make matters more interesting, the sheep seemed perfectly fine. it wasn't displaying any signs of distress, whatsoever, and seemed to be enjoying its time up there if sumyeong had to deduce anything of the situation.
the only reason that sumyeong knows this is all real and not a dream is soley because of hansol standing there with him. with everything that happened so far since the twins' arrival to town, this had certainly not been one of the things on sumyeong's list of things to expect.
"um…" sumyeong mirrors hansol's confusion as he takes a few steps to the side to take a look at the barn's surroundings. there were no haybales close enough for the sheep to have climbed up on its own. in fact, there wasn't really anything that sumyeong could logically point out to say that's how the sheep got up.
"i've… never seen this happen before," sumyeong answers as he then takes a look around the landscape of the farm instead. this had to be some sort of elaborate joke. "we should figure out how to get it down…" sumyeong's words are almost like a question as he continues to try to wrap him mind around the situation. "i'd be convinced that's not an animal if it used a ladder," sumyeong adds under his breath as he rolls up the sleeves of his flannel. "do you think we'd be able to get it down with a ladder?"
hansol had to admit his knowledge on animal husbandry was minimal, especially compared to his uncle. being in velgrove was defnitely his first experience on any sort of farmwork. hence why his face twisted more in confusion as his uncle asked him for advice. "what do you mean this hasn't happened before? interesting..." his hands dug out his notepad from his pockets to jot down this captivating information.
sheep fly in velgrove?
"well, if you don't think it used the ladder going up...how would it know how to use the ladder going down?" hansol scratched his head. such a trivial problem for a guy with no real-world experience. "do you think it had help?"
his foot tapped in the dirt as he hummed, lost in his own thoughts. his uncle must have been tricking him. he put the sheep up there as a joke. if not sumyeong, then perhaps maybe magic was involved. "okay. hear me out." hansol raised his finger towards his uncle, "you did this as a joke. i get it. and now you want me to help you."
activity check ( task 018 )
"your muse finds an unknown package placed at the end of their bed. there is no signage indicating who the package is from, but it is clearly addressed to your muse. how big is the package and does it look? more importantly, what is inside the package?"
the tears snake shards of glass through his ribcage, night-cold fingers rising to brush them from hansol's face. a missing story was something he understood. far too well. like the grave he was meant to be laying in, he remains quiet and still for the length of time it takes for painful truths to find clean air.
"don't apologize," sol graves starts. firm. "you're my friend," it feels inadequate on his tongue, missing the depth the twins occupied in the caverns of his soul. words always seemed to. "and your problems are to be shared, not buried where they'll fester. misol is important. you are important." there were no promises he could make about a woman he barely remembered, who had been lost before he'd returned but — "we will find her." the steel of his unshakable belief sharpens his tone, the glint in his eyes. "no matter what, we will."
his hand rose to find its favored place on the people he cared for: cupping the back of hansol's neck, cradling the back of his skull. "it is okay to stumble on your path. you have support." it is okay to crumble. "we'll talk to sumyeong, too. whatever you need." somewhere in the distance a night crow caws.
feeling the weight of graves's hands pressed against his neck slowed his erratic heart. although hansol knew the reality of things would cause his heart to tremble once more, for a moment, time felt like it wasn't working against him. his shoulders lifted with a labored inhale. hansol needed to keep moving forward, even if it meant venturing into the unknown.
hansol was glad there was at least one person on his side, even if he was embarrassed by his own feelings. "you mean it? you'd do that?" hansol's eyes lit up. he couldn't help but pout. "that's very sweet of you, really. you're a great friend, graves." his tone was sincere, yet slightly strained from holding back more sentimental tears. his arms reached out to pull graves into a firm hug.
"we should get going soon." his voice hummed in a dissonant harmony with the warning creature, "things have been so strange around here. i'm not sure the two of us will be safe in the night." hansol pulled himself away from graves. a weight was lifted from his shoulders. "uh...thank you for the reassurance...i'm here for you too."
does your muse believe in magic or miracles? why or why not? was there a moment that convinced/unconvinced them? activity check (task 016)
magic had been an explanation for the unknown since hansol learned what magic was. his valuables disappearing and reappearing in the same spot the next day? magic. card tricks were certainly all magic and no tricks. velgrove's strange occurrences were no exception.
like with the sheep on the roof. logically it may make sense for the sheep to have found it's way up there through a ladder our several bales of hay, but to hansol, these were all hypotheses that didn't make as much sense. would an animal know how to climb a ladder? why would a sheep feel inspired to get to the top of the barn? magic could answer the questions that logic could not. perhaps the sheep teleported up there because it wanted to test its new abilities. maybe they learned how to fly and wanted to prove themselves to the other sheep. magic is also what kept hansol's mind at bay when logic could not.
when sheep fly (weeks prior to misol's disappearance) @vel-sumyeong
with hands on his hips, hansol stood at the front of the barn. his eyes squinted, eyelids shielding his pupils from the harsh sun as he assessed the situation at hand. hansol knew the town was a bit odd— it was part of the reason why hansol liked remaining unemployed. more time to explore and jot down every story— every mystery.
this was no exception. although, hansol wished this mystery was more...exhilarating. one sheep on the farm roof, two men standing on the ground below wondering if the sheep grew wings overnight. if it did, the wings must've been a granted wished or some sort of myth because the sheep seemed pretty average now.
"uh," hansol moved a hand over his forehead to get a clear view, "is this normal? maybe they used a ladder...?" an unlikely story, but hansol couldn't rule it out. in this town, it seemed like anything was, or could be, possible.
through the looking glass – the evening on the second day, @velhansol
that yang hansol (a son, a nephew, a brother—& a particular twin, at that—) had to be the one to claim the spot next to haeil for this heart-wrenching endeavor had to be the most unfortunate stroke of their combined luck. haeil’s hadn’t been the best to begin with; and as he’s staring up at the looming structure of what he knows now to be the glassmire conservatory, he develops the distinct feeling that he shouldn’t place any bets in the near future, even if he trusted in such a thing as coincidence and providence.
it’s fascinating if he allows it to be. haeil had really only listened to that hasty afternoon meeting halfway— had barely even registered when the weight of a gas lamp and an additional pair of gloves had been all but shoved right into his arms before he’d been led beyond the yellow tape cordoning off their latest fiasco. vaguely, he’s aware that he had thrown a hand up for it; the volunteering, the extra eyes to turn that blasted place apart, thinking about the young girl with curious eyes. he hadn’t planned past the wondering though.
it seems plausible to haeil that the bowels of this place could drown him. it smells damp. the air’s pungent with dust and years upon years of disuse. now haeil has to think on how it is easy to be brave in theory. it’s even easier to delegate the task to another set of open hands. rarely has been the moment where he has chosen the smoothest way out.
so haeil swallows the amalgamation of frustration and worry and ineluctable fear wedged in his throat; and gently grasps at hansol’s right arm the second the doors closed behind him just as they’re engulfed within the inconceivably eerie dusk of the conservatory.
“stay close.” he says through his teeth, as kindly and as severely as he could muster as he willed his eyes to adjust to the burgeoning dark. “if you’re spooked by something, don’t run off. just flash the light towards it and we’ll take a step back."
it was not bravery that consumed hansol. his beating heart had been restless from the moment his feet touched the solid grounds of velgrove. with each new discovery came another loss, to which hansol's body continously threw itself in overwhelming waves of adrenaline and nothingness. hansol was able to get himself through glassmire's doors with a dull feeling that blocked hansol's mind from any and all rational forethought.
the hinges cried in unison, long enough to cause hansol's throat to constrict. then, he was met with darkness. suddenly the nothingness had escaped him, and, with the feeling of haeil's hand on his arm, his heart leaped into its natural state of fear. somehow, haeil's offer of mutual support made things so surreal for hansol.
there were exactly three bodies unaccounted for. despite his affinity towards the paranormal, hansol had no clue what he signed up for. he raised his hand in hopes that this search would lead him to misol, yet now the chilling thought of being led to something greater kept him frozen in place.
hansol never had a strong physique. he wasn't the smartest despite his profound knowledge in myths and folklore. and, without any sort of weapon, hansol wondered how the two would survive if they encountered something far more sinister than misol and two missing police officers. his breathing became voluntary as he tightly clutched haeil's hand in his own, his arms hugging his own chest. "sure..." hansol swallowed, "i'll follow your lead. unless...you want me to..." the thought of straying away made hansol's muscles stiffen. "actually, i've never been here before. i'll go where you go."
