vel-sumyeong

[vel-sumyeong]

[vel-sumyeong]

how does someone get closer to you?

trigger warnings: had a little body horror moment

the question amuses sumyeong. he had never entertained a thought like that. nor had he ever been asked. people were too busy keeping him at an arm's distance.

an in truth, maybe sumyeong didn't know the answer / how to let one in / let them see him / taste the defeat and hollowness that bleed from within. it was an ugly thing. he was an ugly thing. 

the looks of his parents branded onto the back of his eyelids / his voice being ripped from his throat / whispers that made his neck twist with the wish for everything to disappear. 

his years growing as a teenager made it hard for people to get close. at some point people stopped trying. right alongside them, sumyeong did too.

"i don't know," sumyeong hums with little care / maybe too little. it wasn't wrong to feel. "but i suppose it would start with why they're getting closer to me. if you need help, that's easy to give. if you need more, that changes things a bit."

[vel-sumyeong]

activity check! (task 002)

thread for activity check 06/22

[vel-sumyeong]

the vanishing ; the fields ; sumyeong n open

hell is one way to describe how sumyeong looks. chewed up / spit out / ground to ashes / shaped into what sumyeong is right now. hair tousled, bloodshot eyes, and stubble left ungroomed to save every bit of energy that he could afford to.

lantern light bobbing up and down until it falls into the fields. light splinters between the grass as sumyeong lets himself fall onto it like a mattress. sleep was far away and the comfort of the fields / one he often sought / would not provide it. but, maybe / he thinks / taking a moment to lay in the fields and bask in imaginary sunlight would help him feel revitalized. maybe. 

sumyeong was tired. it was hard and it was getting to him. was it so impossible for things to go back to normal? to ask that peace could be given without asking?

[vel-sumyeong]

the vanishing ; the west-ward mill ; sumyeong n @velhaeil

to be vulnerable is to be human. and to be human is the last thing that sumyeong wants to think about. 

his nights have been restless since the sun and moon have disappeared. days were long, nights longer. time stretched thin as sumyeong surveyed olive acre's property lines / listened at night for the farm animals / let stress eat him from bones within like how the crops must have been eating themselves inside out with the sun gone.

a week of the sun being gone. sumyeong wasn't sure how anything would fare any longer. electricity in and out. lamps, candles, fires, more things burning in darkness than before / this is how he finds himself at the west-ward mill, lantern in hand and shotgun on his back. the two items now attachments to his body. stock low, sumyeong had no choice but to make a trip to gather more firewood with the sun and moon continuing to stay out of sight.

the morning chill bites at sumyeong's face as the building comes into view - shrouded in darkness. he doesn't miss the dim light that seeps through the small opening of the door. 

unshaven, clouds beneath his eyes, sunken cheeks, sumyeong knows how he looks. a small part of him hopes that whoever stands on the other side of the threshold won't hold his unkemptness against him. 

[vel-sumyeong]

what is your biggest dream?

ages ago, sumyeong remembers wanting to see what lay beyond the sea / the sights from the mountaintops / to follow the path out of velgrove. he had never imagined staying, not even with his father and mother drilling it into his mind as a child that the livelihood of the town was theirs. they had a duty.

sumyeong never believed it was one that could be passed on to him though. at least not forced. his siblings they all worked hard because they had no choice. but when they were older / when they had the means / sumyeong knew they would leave. 

he believed they would. 

here he was at thirty and two / hanmyeong gone / yesol too. and here he was. 

"i want to travel the world," sumyeong says with a small bitter smile. "i wanted to." 

then he corrects himself. "my biggest dream is to leave velgrove."

it feels wrong to say it out clearly. like he's only strengthening the chains that are keeping him there. it's a dream because sumyeong knows he will never leave velgrove. because hanmyeong must be somewhere / must be coming home / sumyeong will be there for him when he does.

[vel-sumyeong]

event: the vanishing who do you wish you could see right now?

it's funny, how usually the answer on the tip of sumyeong's tongue would be / hanmyeong. in his entire life, all sumyeong had ever waited for was to see hanmyeong one more time. whether he was staying or leaving, sumyeong just wanted one more chance to see him. there had been so much left unsaid.

but for once, sumyeong thinks / feels / differently. he sees yesol in misol and hansol. their eyes / when they look at him with annoyance / when they ask him for something. sumyeong sees his beloved sister in his niece and nephew and the buried memories of their childhood have haunted him since their arrival to town.

"i think, it would be nice to see my sister. maybe get some answers." he didn't believe she would abandon her kids without leaving them any sort of answer. not when she left her entire life behind to secure their safety. something sumyeong and hanmyeong hadn't been able to.

he leaves his answer hanging as if there's more he wants to say. but deep down, he knows he doesn't dare say anymore. seeking the unknown was a hopeless thing to do in velgrove.

[vel-sumyeong]

"it's one of father's favourites." / @veljinah

there's a flood of relief that flows through sumyeong when he confirms that it's jinah. but the relief leaves as soon as it came when he fully processes that she's alone. his thoughts run fast / trouble / danger / maybe something worse that sumyeong doesn't dare think.

his concerns are gently brushed away when jinah hurriedly explains - dinner. sumyeong's first thought is that it's silly for her to have come out this far, but the fear in hear eyes / dripping from her voice / clinging to her limbs / the last thing she needs is for sumyeong to tell her she shouldn't have come. 

sumyeong lets out a small exhale before stepping closer to jinah as he looks from side to side. he could barely see anything but the act helped the restlessness inside him. to do something.

"you shouldn't have come alone," sumyeong finally decides to say as he guides her with one hand against the back of her shoulder. his hand hovers, gently urging her forward by taking the first step himself.

"it's a good thing i found you," sumyeong says, although he doesn't address the sinister sound that had pierced the air seconds ago. though he felt relief being in the presence of someone he knew, it didn't shake the unsettling fear slowly creeping into his mind.

"let's head back to the house and get you what you need. and we'll make sure to pack extra - anything that you and your father need so that you don't have to make a trip like this again." though he's not one to talk often, sumyeong is doing his best now to fill the air with words / any noise / a distraction to keep the two of them going. the alarm in his mind was beginning to grow. the thought of the night chill turning the ground into ice and rooting them on the road was a horrifying intrusive thought he wanted to get rid of.

[vel-sumyeong]

kim sol would never leave yang sumyeong behind. / @velxgraves

his breath comes out in small crystals in the air, the winter chill sliding down his throat and seeping into his clothes. sumyeong had been surveying the fields / watching for a carriage / waiting for sol.  he had been outside for about an hour now, tending to things to keep himself busy / to pass time by.

checking fence posts, removing snow from dirt paths, anything to keep impatience at bay. before he knew it, the sound of wheels creeping up the gravel pathway blanketed with snow. 

where distance had been the only thing sumyeong had known, every familiar thing about sol deeply comforted and washed away everything that had been plaguing sumyeong. his scent / his voice / his being. sumyeong couldn't ask for more having someone who actually cared for his well being back home. 

excitement quickly turned into radiance, pearl teeth beaming wide beneath the sun as sumyeong finally took a good look at sol. 

"i'm gonna keep growing taller whenever you leave. it'll help me see where you're going out in the world," sumyeong laughs heartily as he leaves one arm around sol's shoulders / a soft squeeze. "missed you too much, not much to do around here than miss what's gone."

and as sol shuffles around, sumyeong's eyes light up when he sees the small gift. sumyeong doesn't waste a second as he eagerly takes it into his hands and quickly unwraps it / cheeks hurting from how big he's smiling. "you got this for me?"

the small book / writing and pictures / sol's handwriting / memories and new things about the world - all sumyeong could ask for. he sees snippets flipping through the pages and he swears his heart could break. or maybe it's growing.

"how was your journey back? you must be exhausted. we should head inside so you can get some food and drink! did you have any other bags or is this all you're back with?" the questions pour from sumyeong before he can stop himself, more sitting on the tip of his tongue as he gets a good look at sol.

[vel-sumyeong]

"perhaps it's a sign that we must set out on an adventure right this moment." / @velhansol

there's a layer of sweat that has already made its home on sumyeong's chest, back, and face as he stands at the open front door. the heat was worse than it usually was / it was a given for misol to be complaining about it. even sumyeong could feel it starting to affect him as he watched the fields and waited for any sort of cooling breeze to greet them.

without turning his head, sumyeong answers misol plainly, "people usually hide in their homes when it gets like this - especially during midday. the desperate ones head down to the beach and cool down in the water."

he shifts and leans against the doorframe as sweat begins to roll down the side of his temples, "the unlucky ones - take a quick trip to the river to stick their feet in for a few minutes before returning to work-"

sumyeong stops abruptly when he begins to hear the farm animals start to cry out loud.

[vel-sumyeong]

"perhaps we should just sit and do nothing for the time being. what could possibly be waiting for us outside anyway?" / @vel-misol

her response is quiet but sumyeong catches the words. they strike a dissonant chord in him / he doesn't let it show. maybe it does anyway / how he pauses unmoving / letting the feeling of distrust layer on his skin. she wasn't entirely wrong not to trust him. what exactly had sumyeong been able to offer her up to this point? he was just as much a stranger as the next person down the road to misol.

still, sumyeong can't help but sympathize because yesol / her mother / had gone missing. and when they came where they thought she would be, they were met with empty hands. and an even emptier home. sumyeong had not expected to have any family left and so maybe he couldn't trust what he truly felt about misol and hansol showing up at his door calling him uncle. a life saver to keep him afloat / or an anchor to drag him below.

"no, you're not," sumyeong simply echoes her words as he moves to the kitchen sink, turning on the water to rinse his hands. a sorry attempt to fill his silence with any sort of noise as he hesitates answering misol. with how she was reared up, anything he said was bound to get on her nerves.

"it's not like any i've ever seen," sumyeong exhales before drying his hands. then he reaches for the milk pail sitting on the countertop. "windstorms, thunderstorms, any sort of storm has taken out the electricity. never the sun."

he knows it's not helping. he knows he's taking backwards steps. but sumyeong believes there's no point in pretending like this isn't happening. there'd be more harm lying through his teeth if anything worse happened. he dreaded that idea / misol having cause to despise him.

sumyeong loops the shotgun by his door through his arm by its strap. then he turns to look at the oil lantern on the table next to misol / he's hesitating / unwilling to leave her alone. "we could sit here and do nothing. if you're okay with letting the animals starve."

[vel-sumyeong]

tell me two lies and one truth.

"two lies and one truth?" 

it was no question that misol was the inquisitive type. in fact, it was no question that the twins seemed to share that trait between the two of them - a trait that sumyeong noticed from the moment they arrived in velgrove. maybe it was something they got from yesol / no / sumyeong knows / it runs in the family. he shakes the thought of his own curiosity that sits locked in a chest in the back of his mind.

"there used to be a family that lived here. they were proud and they worked hard." sumyeong cocks his head to the side as if in deep thought before continuing. "they were happy. they spent many years celebrating their lives and hard work together."

then he pauses / takes a deep breath / and its like he holds it. the pause is heavy as he contemplates his next words.

"not a single thing could shake their foundation. each person in that family lived a fulfilling life."

[vel-sumyeong]

the vanishing ; south fields ; sumyeong n @veljinah

shotgun slung on his left arm / oil lantern in his right hand / gravel crunching beneath one pair of feet. though the sky was black, the time on his watch read that it was almost dinner time. though he would normally have been back home preparing something for the night, sumyeong had also taken it upon himself to patrol the edges of the farmlands to ensure that nothing was out of place. fences in ground, gates locked up, and animals all accounted for. 

the sun and moon's disappearance put sumyeong on a different kind of edge - one that he couldn't explain. though he supposed, that was how everyone in town must have felt.

it was an odd thought, to wonder if the wind was blowing or not, and how the absence of light took away that part of sumyeong's senses. as if he could hear better when seeing the trees sway back and forth. or that his body was supposed to feel the cooling air that usually came with sunset. how there should be a chill in the air.

and there is / one that runs through sumyeong's limbs / he hears a cry coming from somewhere. he can't tell where it comes from but he doesn't stop in his tracks. he doesn't intend to until he sees a light further up ahead. 

the light barely illuminates the small area it encompasses. sumyeong almost wonders if what he's seeing is real / heart racing / drumming in his ears. and then the figure turns and sumyeong sees a face he recognizes. his footsteps come sure after that as he jogs up to them before he hears the cry again. this time, it sounds further away, yet still clear as it had minutes before.

something in sumyeong screams / and screams / and screams / pretend you didn't hear it. 

"what are you doing out here by yourself?" sumyeong diverts his attention back to the figure that stands in front of him.

[vel-sumyeong]

activity check! (task 001) theme / childhood triggers / child neglect

sumyeong did not have a bright or loving childhood. following the disappearance of his brother and his sister leaving home, his parents never found the path to recovery. and in its absence, sumyeong was left behind / or rather / left to the deal with his parent's grief. what love his parents had left quickly seeped through the cracks of their home.

sumyeong spent his childhood hiding, waiting for his brother to reappear, waiting for his sister to come home, and waiting for the day his parents would go back to normal. as sumyeong grew, learning how to care for himself in the ways his parents should have, he learned that staying out of sight, meant staying out of mind. it provided his parents the break they needed from their pain. and it provided him a break from the volume of how much he yearned for their love / for the hope that they could become a family again.

and so, sumyeong's relationships with his parents were strained growing up. pulled thin until it barely existed / mother and father by name / strangers living in the shell of a home together. his mother looked at him with shame and guilt. whereas his father, looked at him with contempt and disappointment.

with their deaths, sumyeong thought he would be able to let go of his childhood. he hoped / to let it fade / it had left its mark though.

[vel-sumyeong]

124GP20 (about a month and a half ago) ; the west-ward mill ; sumyeong n @velhaeil

something hums in sumyeong's veins as he shaves down the bark of the wood piece he works on - careful in how he shapes it with haeil's instructions at the forefront of his mind. it's therapeutic / the back and forth / sun beating on his back as it sets / daily goodbye / come too soon. sumyeong would never have imagined the relaxation that working at the mill would have brought him, but maybe it's the notion behind it that truly grounds him. 

mother, his beloved mother. the mother with cold eyes who looked at him with shame and guilt for his entire life. as much hurt that was there, absence of love and nurture, sumyeong found that a part of him wanted / needed / to help in the creation of her funeral raft. he doesn't know what it is that he's letting go of - the pain, the sadness, or the last dredges of love he ever held for her and his father. but whatever it was, sumyeong knew that the only way to let go was by making the raft that would set her free from velgrove. set her free from their past. set her free from him. 

and maybe, set sumyeong free too.

he appreciated that haeil approved his request to take part in the preparation of the raft. surely, invading the carpenter's space wasn't something that was done often. to let someone insert themselves in a space of craft, a place of business - sumyeong was thankful. though he still had much to learn of the carpenter, it was clear to sumyeong the man had a character that was respectable. 

"i didn't do this for my father." 

the confession slips from sumyeong with surprising ease. maybe he should feel some sort of way / hollow / shame / even a hint of remorse. but all he feels is at ease. 

"but i suppose there were enough people in town who took it into their own hands that it didn't matter if i took part or not. at least to my father." the last part comes delayed, as if sumyeong doesn't know if that part truly matters. maybe the confession was a question in disguise. sumyeong never did understand why outsiders were drawn to velgrove. especially those who stayed.

[vel-sumyeong]

for event 001 — the vanishing.

what is something you regret deeply?

there are days when sumyeong wishes silence could speak for him. unhinged jaws, swallowing him whole. it never left him alone and yet here it was slipping away as if it had better things to do when he needed it most.

the memory that chips at his mind is sharp. it pushes it's way from the depths of his mind and past his eyes displaying the same vision again and again / hanmyeong / his brother / the blink of an eye / an unwilling goodbye.

"something i regret deeply?" sumyeong echoes the words as if there's nothing else inside him.

"letting my brother take the blame for me that morning. it was stupid. even though it was his turn." sumyeong's voice strains and he stops. the world halts. it freezes with him.

then it takes a gentle step only when he swallows the guilt that's nestled for over a lifetime in his throat. "i hate to think that hanmyeong's last day was spent doing chores because of a mistake i made. his last day was filled with my- our parents chastising him for something he didn't even do."

sumyeong will never forget the waterfall of ice that washed over him when his brother disappeared. how with his disappearance, it was sumyeong's turn to take the fall next. one that sumyeong would never be able to take. never be able to make up for.

[vel-sumyeong]

"why is this happening?"

it's the way she says it. maybe the way she looks so much like yesol too / spitting image of his sister / under the moonlight, in the dark / leaving without a single look back to see sumyeong watching her go. it was ten years ago. and yet, here she was again.

yesol. no. sumyeong had to do better. because the fear. the confusion. the disbelief in misol's voice - everything about misol that drags him to the past is a clear reminder - the things that once were, no longer are. and so, he has to do better, for misol and hansol.

"i don't know." sumyeong hates that he doesn't have an answer / something concrete to hold them down / he has to be concrete / to hold them down. "i've never seen this happen before." sumyeong's words are soft and ridden with only truth as he stares out the dining room window.

where fields of crops should be, sumyeong can only see black. how does he care for land that needs sun? how does he care for animals that need warmth? how does he care for family he barely knows?

"we're here together." the words are strange on his sandpaper tongue. but he means it. he doesn't know how else to say it. to tell misol that it's going to be okay, even if she doesn't believe it. "we can't just stop and sit doing nothing though. wherever you need to go, just let me know no matter what i'm doing. i'll walk you there, okay?"