* / 𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖗 𝖕𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗.

hey all !! it's me, admin ocha again AKSDJF we all knew it was coming eventually ! i'm proud to present to you bae jinam, mr. green thumb and essentially south korea's reluctant answer to bindi irwin 😌 you can find some finer points of his background and personality below the cut as well as some wanted connections ! as usual, his profile is the only proper page i did lol, but you can find it here ! if you'd like to plot, you can hit the heart and i'll either come to you or i'll drop jinam into the mssgs we're already exchanging !

jinam had to incessantly fidget to keep his sleeves rolled up as he dragged yet another piece of large driftwood across the sand toward the bonfire pits. it was still daylight, and there was several hours until the fire would be lit at nightfall, but he preferred to have everything ready to go beforehand. after dropping the driftwood with a thud into his desired place, jinam took reprieve from the physicality and hazarded a look around. a lot of people were up and about, enjoying their surroundings, but he began to realize there was one person he hadn't seen for much of the day. mustering up some courage, he headed in the direction of minyoung's yurt. he laid a sturdy knock into the heart of the wooden siding, not wanting to enter without permission. "uh m-minyoung ? are you feeling okay ?" he calls out shakily.

he'd be lying if he said it was the first thing he wanted to happen upon after clocking in at the hotel and heading outside. the main issue with how lush jinam made the grass around midlight was just how well footprints showed up on it. lo and behold, fresh markings lay beside the designated pathway heading through a flower bed and around to a bench area, though the benches were currently blocked by shrubbery.

could it have been minyoung ? no, he'd become quite familiar with her tracks given how often she disregarded his garden rules and left them. he was fairly certain these footprints were different. he began following the tracks without really thinking about it, though his own feet remained on the garden stone path as if by muscle memory. it's not as though he'd have the spine to confront this person, but he couldn't help but be curious. as he wound around the path to the rest area, he spotted someone, likely the rulebreaker. jinam was pretty sure she worked at the mall, but they hadn't really talked before. "um ... " is all he can muster as he comes to a stop beside the bench.

the sound of wave crests hitting rocks fill jinam's ears as he jabs his climbing hook into yet another tight wedge of the rock wall he was on. the ocean rolled on forever just a few yards to his right, but he had a couple more meters to go before he could enjoy the sight. to be fair, he had more experience than most in rock-climbing considering he'd come from the mountains. the seven meter wall was beginner level stuff, so he'd barely broken a sweat by the time his dust covered fingers folded over the top level. back muscles flexing visibly, jinam pulls all of his weight to the top and stands to his feet with a brief burst of confidence. he steals a glance at the sea, before offering one to the person who still stood where he'd started. "are you sure i can't convince you to take the fun way up ?" he asks, considering there was a far easier path to where he was than the one he'd taken.

maybe jinam shouldn't have been making assumptions, but he felt he was well within his rights to do so considering the situation. he'd been cooling off inside the hotel on his lunch break and had now strolled back into the garden, energy renewed to power through the rest of his shift. he'd happened upon a disturbing sight in his return, however; the distinct outline of footprints in his beautiful, lush grass. maybe some would consider it a bit overbearing, but jinam had placed signs all around the garden informing visitors that the ample garden stepping stones were the preferred path, as opposed to the lawn he spent the entire spring nurturing and perfecting.

still, some people seemed to ignore the signs entirely — one of them being the owner of the footprints, or at least the person jinam assumed owned them. as he leaned down to attempt to fluff up the grass where she had stepped, his head tipped towards the flowerbed. "what's wrong with that minyoung, huh ? disrespecting you guys like this, as if you're not just as alive as she is," he expels a sigh, grumbling toward the direction of the white asiatic lilies as if they were keenly listening.

his head pops back, as though arguments were being made in the woman's favor. "what do you mean 'be understanding' ?? i'm defending you guys, here. besides, i'm pretty sure i never asked you, morning glories. you're not even supposed to be awake in the afternoon," he retorts, as if he'd just made some amazing comeback against a worthy opponent. it was a bit of a habit for him to vent to the vegetation he raised, as it was far easier to him than trying to converse with people. he winced inwardly, the thought of someone catching him in the act of something so embarrassing making his skin crawl.

if jinam wanted to crawl under a rock while walking through the mall on a normal day, what long lasting trauma would this experience have on him ? he had an old ukulele slung haphazardly over his back, varnish coating chipped and the wood worn down, clearly showing signs of heavy use over an extended period.

it was a dumb little hobby he'd picked up over the years, learned from his father who'd learned it from his father; the original person the ukulele jinam now carried belonged to. he was rather skilled, but it was never really something he told people about. it just seemed like such am embarrassing conversation piece. who the hell likes the guy who whips out a ukulele everywhere ?

still, when the bottom string of the instrument had snapped while he was tuning it, he knew it would bother him if he didn't get it restrung. he hadn't had to perform such maintenance in years, so he was a bit ignorant to what he needed exactly. as he awkwardly bounds into wangto records, he sees a girl at the sales counter. ever reluctant about human interaction, he approaches cautiously while retrieving the ukulele from behind his back. "doyouknowherethestringsare ??" he mumbles, his request mostly unintelligible from the speed at which it flew at the other.

"ha, that amount of money doesn't exist. er — well, i guess that would depend on where the money went. if it's for me to get rich off of, you can forget it. i'd have a harder time saying no if it were for some kinda good cause or something."

"there's a lot of lines i'd never cross. i guess the first one that comes to mind is putting pressure on someone to do something they aren't comfortable with. some people think comfort zones are a limitation or that people should be forced out of them, but i couldn't disagree more."

"i guess i don't really know. i suppose i'd like to dig my heels in at sunset for awhile, but will i still be here then ? i can't really answer that. there's also the idea of opening up an animal sanctuary cityside, but who knows if i'll even be close to making that a reality by then."

"...i guess that question has many answers. for one, it taught me to respect nature, the earth and every creature that swims, flies, walks or crawls on it. i feel like it has made me an empathetic person, but i also feel it has made it almost impossible for me to open up to people properly or to even hold a conversation without feeling a ton of undue anxiety and pressure. even the sight of a camera makes me wanna run in the other direction. so i'd have to say it's been a mixed bag."