A Note On Memnoch from Phinn Acaran, Spritely Scamp Extraordinaire:
"What can I say about the Lord of Liquor and Death? Hmm..." A moment of contemplation, fingertips drumming on her chin. "It depends on if I'm going to be honest or not." a vicious grin at that, eyes shining with mischief. "Honestly? Considering the man's lost half his mind's ability to process simple matters, much less the complexities of something like learning how to dress himself, I think he's a very fine man. A modern miracle, really. In his darkest of times I wondered to myself how he could tie his own high heeled boots much less muster up enough sanity to write to me. Not that the letters were ever really 'sane', but that's neither here nor there. He is indeed proof that we Draughtians must have an extra inborn ability to be able to function on a frightening level even with the many drugs of our isle swimming in our veins. Dare I say that the strangeness is almost akin to the Mistian ability to withstand the Breath.
But I digress.
Given his propensity for long-winded rambling with overly flowery words that really boil down to nothing at worst and doublespeak at best, and let's not forget his ability to sincerely believe he's in the right without acknowledging the fact that he's the biggest hypocrite I know..." she smiled some and shrugged. "Yet, there is a fondness for him and his eccentric ways. Call it the soft spot in my dusky little heart for the first fellow I found myself actually caring about-- some lingering girlish frivolousness that I haven't yet rectified, I don't really give a damn. Who else can you give a nest of dead baby birds to and have them nearly fall over with a dramatic, nearly boneless swoon of adoration? Something to be said about that level of complete bizarre behavior.
An obsessive personality, but truly that is par for the course, and taking into account his sweet and harmless nature (unless you find yourself actually /in/ Elixir Vitae where the Silvered Gavel of Death's Judge rules), regardless of his strange reputation, I can say with full certainty that he is a good man from the top of that goofy top hat to the bottom of those frighteningly tall heels."
A moment of contemplation is passed, eyes lighting up with good, strong humor. "Though...that Roger that he totes around-- Yes, the cane, or rather, the skull atop the cane? Sometimes I am convinced that he is the very embodiment of Memnoch's conscience. Now there is a saint among men."
((Disclaimer: This is a purely IC take on the character and should not be taken as anything but a crazy ass attempt to make the player giggle like a little school boy. All this, any assumptions drawn from this, et cetera is strictly OOC knowledge and should not be taken into play unless for some weird reason Phinn loses her mind and says as much ICly.))