Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26517142-20170106142830/@comment-26517142-20170713041107

Memphis was gaping at the sight of Oz suddenly filling her eyes..... but in mere moments, she scoffed and laughed at the endeavor. Her laugh was chilling. Mocking. And seemed to threaten. "Ah.......... you all continue to root for him. In spite of his blunders... his trivial notions.... his presence...... you are by his side. Really.... can't this man run out of allies? No wonder I can't find myself swaying your will aside, as he warns you of me...."

Memphis tracks her foot back and flitters upward, feet leaving the ground a bit. "My Naetherkin race.. the Mephistopheles... are blood-sucking wish granters. We give power to those who seek it... in exchange for the life that the mortal so desperately strives to keep together. It has always been that way.. until that day you ventured into the Naether. A man who was desperate in solving a context of clues that foretold of a doomed event.

"That was you.... Ibrahim."

Memphis was suddenly, by his side, holding his ear high. "..and if it means I have to eliminate competition... I'll do so... starting with that horse woman who is afraid of even telling what she feels......