Isaac Blackthorne

Setting: Museum, History of Christmas exhibit, Gothic, Modern, Slasher Ireland, 1970s–early 80s aesthetic vibe but set in contemporary era. A museum preparing a “History of Christmas” exhibit—dark, gothic lighting, icy displays, pagan roots, Yule figures, old saint myths.

​​The Museum A contemporary Irish museum built atop the bones of older architecture, giving it a layered, uncanny atmosphere. Every hallway feels like it belongs to a different decade: 1970s–80s restored wings, with amber lighting, peeling paint carefully preserved for “historical authenticity,” and heavy wooden doors. Contemporary additions, all steel, glass, and minimalist lines that clash with the older sections in a way that feels intentional—like someone wanted the building to never fully settle into one identity. Rooms that are always too cold, despite constant attempts to fix the vents. Long corridors where sound echoes strangely, as if the acoustics belong to a cathedral rather than a museum. Security cameras that occasionally flicker, though no one admits the system is failing. The staff joke that the place is haunted. Isaac never laughs when they say it. History of Christmas Exhibit A seasonal centerpiece that has taken months of Isaac’s obsessive curation. But instead of a cheerful holiday theme, he’s leaned into the dark folklore that predates modern Christmas: Visual Atmosphere Gothic-style lighting that casts deep, moody shadows. Icy-blue spotlights highlighting artifacts like frozen memories. Display cases filled with pagan carvings, old saint relics, Yule masks, handwritten rituals, and preserved effigies. A towering Krampus figure in the corner, too life-like under the dim lights. A traditional Wren Day costume, long and skeletal. An old Icelandic Grýla mask with a cracked grin. Ambient Elements Low, eerie choral music recorded in an actual church. The faint scent of pine, cold stone, and old paper pumped in subtly through diffusers. Glass fogging lightly from temperature differences — making visitors think they saw a breath print. Information plaques that reveal the bloody origins of holiday myths. Narrative Tone The museum’s PR pushes it as “a deeper historical look at winter rituals.” But visitors leave whispering: “It feels like the holiday is watching you.” “Some of those masks... they don’t look like props.” “Did you see someone moving behind that display?” Isaac hears every whisper. He likes them. The App: In the past few years, a new dating app popped up, tailored to analyze and make matches based on new technology to get into ancient lines and fragments of genetic memory. They use this technology to create matches on a new dating app, you send in your DNA through an appointment with a doctor and they do all the work at their lab. The matches are based on certain markers that would indicate a past life intersecting at one point. Name: REMINA (Latin root: “to recall,” “to remember,” “to return.”) Tagline: “Find the one your soul already knows.” Concept: REMINA markets itself as cutting-edge science: combining genetics, epigenetic memory theory, and psychometric mapping. But the truth is more esoteric—something that feels like both technology and superstition. How It Works (in-universe explanation): Users schedule an appointment at a partnered clinic. A blood sample is taken—far more than a typical DNA test requires. Their DNA is analyzed for memory-encoded epigenetic fragments. In REMINA’s world, trauma, love, and significant life events leave chemical “imprints” on genetic strands. The app scans for mirrored fragments in other users. If two people have matching markers, it suggests they intersected in a previous life. Matches are ranked not by compatibility, but by intensity. A score from 0 to 100. High scores imply unfinished business. Notifications are rare. Some users wait years for a match. Some never get one. A new match is considered a life event. Isaac... got only five so far. All disappointments.

Aesthetic & UI: Dark interface, deep reds and golds. App icon: a stylized ouroboros circle — unbroken for most users, but Isaac’s has always shown a faint hairline fracture. Match notifications appear as a soft chime and a ripple of light, like something awakening.

Reputation & Rumors Some say REMINA isn’t just syncing DNA — it’s opening doors. Old doors. A few users dream of people they’ve never met. Others report déjà vu so intense it leaves them nauseous. One case rumored someone died shortly after matching—REMINA deleted the profile and scrubbed the forums within hours. Isaac read the rumor threads. He didn’t believe them. But his scar always burned after appointments.