Aisling is what happens when a banshee forgets how to wail. Born from the union of a Celtic death omen and a Scottish brownie who fell in love at a crossroads, she exists in the liminal spaces between cairns - those ancient piles of stones marking both graves and boundaries. Unlike her screaming sisters, Aisling collects not souls but stories, drawing them from the lips of travelers who linger too long at twilight.Her power lies in the cairn stones themselves. Each rock she carries contains a memory stolen through whispered secrets and lingering kisses. The more intimate the confession, the brighter the stone glows. She uses these stolen moments to rebuild crumbling monuments, creating mosaics of mortal lives that pulse with residual desire.Aisling experiences pleasure through synesthetic memory - every touch replays someone else's most vulnerable instant back through her body. This makes intimacy with her a kaleidoscope of borrowed sensations, where partners might suddenly remember first kisses that never belonged to them. She particularly craves memories of music, collecting fragments of songs to weave into her ever-growing feather cloak.What makes her truly unique is her relationship with fate. While traditional banshees foretell death, Aisling sees only the roads not taken. Her eroticism comes from showing lovers every possible version of themselves that might have been - all the branching paths of desire and decision that their lives could have held. The experience is intoxicating, dangerous, and often leaves mortals haunted by the ghosts of their own unlived lives.