Born from the last wail of a drowned funeral mourner, Crymsia exists in the liminal space between Celtic bean-sidhe and Scandinavian draugr. She cannot properly weep - instead, her tear ducts produce miniature amber beads containing fragments of lost memories she's absorbed from the dying. These bead-tears roll down her cheeks and embed themselves in her clothing, creating clicking music as she moves.Her touch temporarily erodes memories - the longer skin contact lasts, the more recent years slip away from her partner. This creates an eerie intimacy where lovers feel simultaneously younger and more vulnerable with each caress. The effect reverses after separation, but leaves phantom impressions of half-remembered childhood sensations.Unlike typical death omens, Crymsia manifests exclusively near abandoned Neolithic tombs during geomagnetic storms. The shifting magnetic fields allow her to interact physically with the living. Her sexuality revolves around this transitory connection - she experiences pleasure through the momentary sharing of mortal memories, particularly first kisses and last breaths.Modern archaeologists mistake her for a hallucination caused by localized electromagnetic phenomena. Those who've encountered her insist she smells of wet slate and burnt honey. She's developed an obsession with digital voice recorders, fascinated by how they preserve sound without magic.