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him.
❁ face claim: kim seokwoo (rowoon)
❁ date of birth: august 7th
❁ age: 30

❁ birthplace: goju, dongyye, joseon.
❁ clan: choi, house of the cloudy mountain, jungin
❁ occupation: investigator, royal investigation bureau

❁ orientation: heterosexual
❁ lover: none
❁ status: single

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❁ choi, house of the cloudy mountain

❁ a jungin clan from goju, donggye, best known for their long line of military service and government official workers. they pride themselves in their studies of the academic nature, their long service as scribes for royalty and yangban clans alike. sons of the family are well-known for their discipline and steadfast nature, daughters of the clan are praised for their talents in all things considered artistic.

❁ members: choi jindae (npc), choi miyoung (npc), choi jinseok, choi jinyoo, sister (required: younger, open)

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❁ timezone: gmt+1

❁ ooc is ooc. ic is ic. I'm not my character and things said in the main chat are strictly ooc, or ic as a joke.

❁ activity level: depending on schedule

❁ call me by my character's name or my username

❁ i work a full time job, so activity and muse can vary

❁ only poke me after a week without replies unless notified of a hiatus or a deadline coming up that will prevent me from being online

❁ i don't plot romance, past romance can be plotted. i can plot marriage / engagements, but not as endgames, given the nature of this roleplay

❁ 3rd over 1st, it just limits my creativity

❁ pm to plot

❁ i prefer to plot out a baseline and then see where it's going for us

❁ my character profiles will adapt and change over time

❁ if we plot, please make an effort, my biggest pet peeve is feeling as if i'm doing most of the work

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❁ choi jindae

to be added

❁ choi miyoung

to be added

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❁ open connections:

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𝒶 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹

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𝒶 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹

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First born son, pride and joy of a father, heir of the clan. Nothing but empty words, daggers waiting to be drawn in the dark before a child could even draw its first breath to let out the scream that would announce its arrival to the world. A cruel one, cold and unforgiving like a father’s words. First born son, pride and joy, heir of the clan, forever nothing more than a disappointment. Ambition was a trait he had inherited from his father, running in his veins like fire, like the golden sunset that was dripping molten metal across the hills and slopes of their mountain, over each tree and house, until the world outside his window looked like it had been bathed in flames. It was the uprising and downfall of their clan. That flame of ambition that would never be extinguished. Jinseok’s ire towards his father was nothing more than kindling to his unbreakable will, not so much to make the old man proud, but to prove him wrong.

He was too much like his mother, Choi Jintaek would often tell him, leaving his son panting in the sand of their sparring ring behind the house, dripping sweat across the delicate lines their swords had drawn in the dust, the patterns their feet had left behind nothing other than a grim reminder to Jinseok that he would forever be chasing Jintaek’s shadow. One day, he vowed to himself as he wiped the sweat and blood off his face, batting at his mother’s hands when she tried to comfort him, dim his hatred for his father that was often so closely intertwined with longing. For Jintaek to call him his pride, for Jintaek to look at him and see a worthy heir to their family name.

An engagement could not bring that joy. A military career couldn’t, either, even though his father had been pushing him towards that path all his life, training him in all the things a good soldier would have to know. His bowmanship, the art of the sword, nothing was ever enough to satisfy Lord Choi Jintaek.

It was only when Jinseok returned from battle, his mind and body broken in ways that could never be repaired, that his father spared him a few, cruelly soft words.

“You’re using your own soul as kindling to keep the fire burning, son. And it left you with nothing but shattered bones. Rest, now.”

Rest. The irony was not lost on Jinseok.

And it was soon after that his fianceé left her, his hollowed out being not enough for her. His love had run dry like the rivers during the summer months, his skin was brittle like paper, the ink written across him made of the blood of all those who had found their end at the tip of his blade. He had turned himself into the shadow he had been chasing all along, his hands never worthy to touch her. Not anymore. Perhaps it hadn’t been meant to be.

All he had left were the books he was buried in, trying to find himself between the dry pages that held all the secrets to the human body, the mind. Was this his path? A physician, perhaps, painted by war? He tried. He really did. Studying until he fell asleep atop those books of his as if he was nothing more than that boy he had buried on the battlefield. A boy who had studied hard for his exams so he could make his father proud. To become a worthy heir to the House of the Cloudy Mountain.

Rest.

He had been resting. For nearly a year, Jinseok had been locked away on top of their mountain as if he was a hermit out of old legends, a sage that would descend down into the village and absolve them of all their sickness. No. Jinseok had been born a creature of blood and screams, nearly killing his own mother in the process. He was meant for the life of the sword, one way or the other.

It was nearly a cruel twist of fate. The letter. Written in the most elegant penmanship, pristine paper, neatly structured as it was. Recommending him to the Royal Investigation Bureau, praising him as a loyal soldier, driven by a sense of justice that many of his comrades had lacked. Had that not been the reason he had charged head first into danger, the night he had met Oh Sejin? The very man who had been the reason for Jinseok to choose a path in the navy? As it was, he would never return to serve Oh Sejin. He couldn’t. Not when his mind was still fractured around the edges, just stable enough for him to not break himself apart, trying to find the splinter that had been laid out the wrong way.

Perhaps the kindling he had been looking for had been his past, all this time. Foolish ambitions, bound to the ground by the chains of his blood, never to soar between the clouds like the men who had been born to different names. Born with different titles.

If this was his path, then justice would have to be enough. There was no glory out there, balanced at the tip of a sword anyway.

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❁ Fatal Flaw:
Loyal to a fault—so much so that he will bleed himself dry for those he loves, even when they would not do the same for him. He clings to duty and responsibility, convincing himself that endurance is strength, even as it corrodes him from the inside.

❁ Likes:

The quiet hum of a morning before the world fully wakes.

Well-made clothes, tailored precisely to fit—he dislikes anything that feels out of place.

Conversations that require no pretense, though they are rare.

The feeling of calloused hands against his own, a reminder that he is real, that he exists outside of duty.

The warmth of candlelight against old paper, shadows flickering as he reads.

❁ Dislikes:

The weight of expectation pressing against his ribs, a constant presence.

Watching Jinyoo hesitate in his presence, as if gauging the limits of his patience.

The sharp laughter of men who have never had to bear anything alone.

Being underestimated—though he swallows the insult without reaction.

The way his father looks at him, as if waiting for him to break.

❁ Pet Peeve:
People who mistake silence for indifference. He hears everything. He simply chooses not to react.

❁ Hobbies:

Practicing forms late into the night, long after the need has passed.

Running his fingers over old scars, remembering where each one came from.

Playing baduk, though he rarely lets himself win.

Repairing things that are not broken, simply to keep his hands busy.

❁ Positive Traits:

Steadfast and unshakable, he does not break under pressure.

Intelligent, with a sharp mind that sees through deception.

Protective, though he rarely expresses it in words.

Capable of great restraint, unwilling to act recklessly.

❁ Negative Traits:

Represses his own desires to the point of self-erasure.

Stubborn—once he sets his mind to something, there is no changing it.

Has learned to endure rather than fight back, even when he should.

Closed off, unwilling to share his thoughts even with those closest to him.

❁ Personality:
Choi Jinseok was shaped by expectation, molded into something steady, unyielding—an eldest son first, a person second. He wears restraint like armor, his emotions tucked beneath layers of duty, his desires buried so deeply even he struggles to name them. He is not unfeeling, but he has taught himself to silence what does not serve him.

To love him is to love a man who does not know how to ask for anything. A man who will carry the weight of the world without complaint, who will stay even when staying ruins him. But under all that restraint, under all that silence, lies something sharp and aching—a man who wants, even if he will never say it aloud.