TO LINGER IS TO DIE.

 ghost in her own skin. 
revenant.

she is a soft contradiction, where delicate lace meets the shadows of mourning. her world is painted in deep hues of burgundy and black, and vintage mirrors that reflect unspoken memories. There’s a stillness about her, a graceful reverence for the delicate line between life and death, she walks alongside ghosts but never truly joins them.

001 : no godmodding.
don’t control nokia or assume you know her background, abilities, or secrets unless she’s told your muse directly. what you know outside of the story stays there, let’s keep it fair and fun!002 : literacy preferred.
i’m fine with semi-literate or literate writing. no need for super long replies—just keep it creative and engaging.003 : no mixing ic and ooc.
nokia’s actions, thoughts, and relationships are not a reflection of me. don’t confuse in-character interactions with out-of-character dynamics.

klein, she/her,, i have 15 muses, a full-time job, and a chaotic creative brain. nevertheless, i’m here for  late-night plotting sessions  that spiral into something magical. NOTE: i can’t always reply quickly (life happens), please don’t rush me.

name.       Tanchanok Yontararak.
nicknames.       Nokia.
gender.       Female, she/her.
sexuality.       Bisexual.
date of birth.       10/23/1997.
age.       27.
occupation.       Mortuary cosmetologist.
birthplace.       Bangkok, Thailand.
current residence.       Seoul, South Korea.positive.       Detail-oriented, confident, creative.
neutral.       Observant, deadpan, independent.
negative traits.       Guarded, emotionally detached, sometimes too blunt for her own good.
likes.       Horror movies, thunderstorms, iced coffee, vintage rings, old phones.
dislikes.       Clowns, clutter, overly sentimental people, anyone touching her tools.
hobbies.       Collecting vintage mirrors, sketching faces, experimenting with bold makeup looks, and getting lost in antique stores.eyes.       Deep brown, always sharp and calculating, but with a haunted edge that lingers.
hair.       Long and dark, always styled with effortless precision—sleek waves or a perfectly messy ponytail.
build.       Slim but strong, with a posture that radiates confidence and grace.
modifications.       A tattoo of scissors on her forearm; pierced ears often adorned with vintage or mismatched earrings.

stat.       Descended from a powerful necromantic bloodline.
stat.       Can awaken memories or emotions of the deceased through touch, though it drains her emotionally.
stat.       Has an exceptional eye for detail, making her work flawless but leaving her prone to overworking herself.
stat.       Her visions of the dead often feel disjointed and fleeting, making her question whether they’re real or imagined.
stat.       Her ability to sense the lingering emotions of the deceased grows stronger when she’s near objects tied to their past.
stat.       The flashes she receives can sometimes reveal emotions so vivid, they leave her temporarily overwhelmed or numb.
stat.       Her touch doesn’t just bring memories—it sometimes reveals regrets or unfinished business.inspirations.      
film. crimson peak, the autopsy of jane doe. gothic undertones, haunted beauty, and the quiet presence of death shaping her world.
music. lana del rey. melancholic melodies, tragic beauty, and haunting themes of rebirth.
literature. frankenstein, dracula, the haunting of hill house. stories of life, death, and the thin veil between the living and the dead.
visuals. vintage mirrors, faded photographs, dark florals, and candlelight flickering in shadows.
mythos. hecate, the goddess of witchcraft and necromancy. the weight of memory and untold stories lingering in every touch.

arc 001   :   blurred lines.      
sometimes, nokia thinks it’s all in her head—the flashes, the emotions, the memories she feels when she touches the dead. maybe it’s just her imagination filling in the blanks, turning her empathy into something bigger than it is. after all, who’s to say it’s real? she’s never told anyone about it, and nobody’s around to confirm the things she sees. but then there are moments—little things that line up too perfectly, like knowing a detail she shouldn’t, or feeling a grief that doesn’t belong to her. those are the moments that make her stop and wonder: is this all in her mind, or is it something she’ll never truly understand?arc 002   :   dead weight.      
every time she touches the dead, they leave something behind. not their voices or their faces—just fragments, like echoes that never quite fade. nokia’s ability to pull pieces of their memories was never something she asked for, and honestly, she’s not even sure it’s a gift. it’s more like a burden, one that follows her home at the end of the day and keeps her up at night. some stories just won’t let go, no matter how hard she tries to forget.arc 003   :   between the lines.      
nokia doesn’t just see faces when she works; she sees lives—stories hidden in the fine lines and faint scars of the dead. every detail tells her something about who they were, but sometimes it feels like she’s not just piecing them together; she’s creating something entirely new. maybe it’s just her imagination filling in the gaps, or maybe it’s her gift bleeding into her work. either way, the line between honoring their memory and rewriting it gets blurrier every day.arc 004   :   echoes of glass.      
she’s always been drawn to old mirrors. something about the way they hold onto time, like they’ve seen more than they should. nokia’s collection started as a habit, but now it feels like something more—like these mirrors are tied to her family’s history. maybe they hold pieces of the same stories she’s been running from, or maybe it’s just her imagination. either way, she can’t seem to stop looking for the next one.arc 005   :   living lies.      
to her parents, she’s living the dream—working as a makeup artist for idols in seoul, just like she said she would. but nokia’s real life is nothing like the one they think she has. between the late nights at the morgue and the secrets she’s too scared to tell, she’s built a double life that’s starting to feel like it’s closing in on her. the lie was easier at first, but every day it gets harder to keep it going.

details.     

persona.       sharp-tongued and bold, the kind of person who’ll call you out with a smirk. she’s quick-witted, effortlessly charming, and always seems like she knows more than she lets on. empathetic beneath the sass, but she keeps people at arm’s length to avoid getting too attached.

family.       nokia grew up in bangkok, an only child surrounded by the fragrant chaos of her parents’ floral shop. her parents, practical and rooted in tradition, viewed beauty as something you could package and sell—neatly arranged bouquets tied with perfect ribbons. nokia, on the other hand, found herself drawn to the imperfect: old, broken things and the quiet stories they carried. even as the center of their world, she always felt a subtle distance, like they were speaking two different languages. they dreamed of her taking over the shop one day, but when she chose art school instead, they didn’t stand in her way, convinced she’d eventually come back. when she moved to seoul, nokia painted a picture-perfect lie: she told them she was working as a makeup artist for idols. to this day, they beam with pride, telling everyone about their daughter’s glamorous success. they don’t know about the morgue, the late nights, or the weight of the secrets she keeps.

supernatural.       nokia’s abilities trace back to an old bloodline steeped in necromantic magic, though most of that history has been buried with time. her gift is simple in theory but unsettling in practice—when she touches the dead, she glimpses fragments of their lives. the flashes come without warning: moments of love, regret, anger, or longing, disjointed and incomplete. the power feels more like a curse than a blessing. the emotions cling to her like shadows, and she’s learned to keep them to herself, brushing them off as an overactive imagination. but sometimes, the fragments feel too vivid to ignore, leaving her to wonder if she’s reaching into something far older and darker than she understands. her ancestors were once revered as mediators between the living and the dead, bridging the two worlds with their abilities. nokia doesn’t feel reverence for her gift—just unease, like it’s something that doesn’t belong to her. every passing day makes it harder to ignore, but for now, she keeps it locked away, unsure if she’s ready to confront what it means.author’s note.       as of january 12th, 2025, nokia is unaware that her abilities are supernatural. she blames it on her overactive imagination, fueled by crime shows she watches too often.

aesthetic.       she’s the kind of person you don’t forget—like a song you can’t quite place but still hum under your breath. muted tones of black, burgundy, and dusty gold define her world, layered with lace, wool, and leather boots that echo softly on quiet streets. her dark waves always look effortless, and her eyes tell stories she’ll never say out loud, like she knows something you don’t. she smells like lavender and cedarwood, something warm and just a little mysterious. her life is vintage mirrors, a broken flip phone she won’t get rid of, and candlelight flickering in dark corners—a mix of beauty, nostalgia, and a little bit of something haunting.

canons.     

says exactly what’s on her mind, no matter who’s listening—her filter doesn’t exist.when people ask her personal questions, she dodges with something wildly inappropriate or exaggerated, just to throw them off.
flirts with anyone, not because she’s interested, but because she loves watching them get flustered.leans in a little too close when talking, just to see if you’ll break eye contact first.
remembers little details about people that even they forgot they mentioned.answers serious questions with such dry, deadpan humor that people often can’t tell if she’s joking.
makes sarcastic comments so naturally that people sometimes mistake her humor for genuine opinions.never texts with proper capitalization, saying it feels “too formal.”
has a habit of leaning against walls or doorframes like she’s in a movie, always perfectly posed without trying.refuses to leave the house without perfect eyeliner—she calls it her “armor.”
carries a vintage lighter everywhere, though she doesn’t smoke—she just likes the sound of it flicking open and shut.keeps her favorite lipstick shade in every bag, just in case.
drinks iced coffee year-round, even when it’s freezing outside.wears mismatched earrings on purpose, but when asked about it, she says it’s “a metaphor.”
whispers “thank you” under her breath after finishing her work, like a quiet promise.sketches the faces of the dead in a notebook but never lets anyone see them.
talks to her “clients” while she works, throwing in sarcastic comments to break the eerie silence.once got locked in a morgue fridge by accident but decided to keep that story to herself.
keeps a broken flip phone in her bag as a good-luck charm, even though it doesn’t work.collects vintage mirrors, believing they hold fragments of untold stories.
lights candles during storms, claiming it’s “practical,” though it feels more like a ritual.runs her finger along the edge of vintage mirrors, like she’s searching for something hidden.
swears she doesn’t get scared, but she won’t watch clown movies alone.can recall random details about crime shows and uses them to “solve” mundane mysteries, like who stole the last iced coffee.

plots.      (more to come!)

The Antique Rival (connection: 0/1)your muse and nokia keep running into each other at antique shops and flea markets, always reaching for the same damn thing. it started with her grabbing a vintage mirror before they could, throwing in a snarky “better luck next time.” now, it’s become a thing—playful banter, a little passive-aggressiveness, and maybe a touch of real competitiveness. over time, the rivalry starts to feel less like a rivalry and more like an excuse to talk. they swap stories about their finds, share tips on the best places to shop, and slowly realize that no one else quite gets it the way they do.
it's just paperwork. (0/?)your muse—maybe a police officer, an investigator, or a lawyer—has to frequent the morgue for work. nokia? not what they expected. she’s sharp-tongued, unbothered, and way too comfortable cracking morbid jokes while they’re trying to keep things professional. at first, it’s tense—she’s throwing sarcasm at them like darts, and they’re either dodging or throwing it right back. but eventually, the awkward silences turn into actual conversations. whether they’re rolling their eyes at her or secretly looking forward to her dry humor, they can’t help but keep coming back.
the case that lingers. (important plot, tied to arc: blurred lines).your muse works closely with the morgue—a police officer, a lawyer, or anyone else who deals with the dead. one day, a body comes in tied to a complicated case your muse has been working on. nokia notices something strange when she touches the body, but she brushes it off as imagination. your muse keeps coming back, piecing together the case, while nokia tries to ignore the unsettling flashes she keeps feeling. as your muse starts confiding in her more about the case, nokia has to decide whether to trust her instincts and share what she knows—or keep her distance.
mirror's edge. (important plot, tied to arc: echoes of glass).nokia’s at a flea market when she spots a vintage mirror that feels… off. she hesitates, and that’s when your muse—maybe a collector or a restorer—steps in with a casual, “you interested in that?” they strike up a conversation, nokia deflecting with sarcasm while your muse tries to figure her out. she ends up bringing the mirror home, and that’s when things start getting weird. the flashes from her gift become sharper, more vivid, and the mirror feels tied to something she can’t explain. your muse could be helping her dig into its origins, and nokia starts wondering if she’s found a piece of her family’s history or something she was never meant to see.