DF RP: Healing Hands
Dragonsfire RP: _ Mm.... ow... oh... mmm... _ 10/26/2008 Nomi gets a touch of Healing. Fort Infirmary. Midwinter.
Nomi's back so of course she and the Weyrleader are having... issues. At one of their ill-fated meetings Sidijith channeled some emotion to Xanth, dragon to dragon, that wasn't meant for human consumption only he ate it and fed it to Th'deus who, in his struggle to maintain control accidentally kicked Nomi into a wall. For various reasons she doesn't want him - or anyone - to know. It was /entirely/ accidental. The Weyrleader is a big man, and a dangerous one, but he's never used his strength against her... or any woman I think. Thad is very very careful about that. I just wanted to hit Nomi on the head again. Its Tradition.
Infirmary
The outer infirmary is a large open room so the dragons have easy access to it. The most commonly needed supplies -- those for threadscore -- are here in abundance on a wide shelf. There is also a long sink with cold water for cleaning and numbing wounds and a student healer that can treat threadscore.
The inner infirmary is much smaller, as it need not accomodate a dragon. Intended as the exam room for sick and wounded riders and weyr staff, there is an exam table in the center of the room. There are some chairs scattered about for the concerned friends and family of the sick person.
Labelled cupboards for the major medicinal groups -- tonic, febrifuge, diaphoretic, diuretic, cough medicines, burn treatment, antispasmodic, anodyne, and analgesic -- as well as a general supplies cupboard, line the walls.
You see Deireth and Reineth here.
Thera is here.
--------------------------
Nomi
Slender and slight, with quixotic grey-green eyes and a tumble of soot-edged, blood-red curls, this feisty woman has finally grown into her peaked ears and big teeth. Tanned and toned, a certain felinic power has been gained along with her health and she moves with surety and even a measure of grace. The shadow of her dragon lurks just beneath the surface.
A simple copper ring adorns one hand; no knot is visible to denote her rank.
Nomi is 23 Turns and 9 months old.
Threadfall hardens the shell of this young weyrwoman, hardening her armor against all the world.
Nomi slides in, avoiding the main weyrs this time, and looking dressed for working. She moves stiffly though and will stand awkwardly near the door hoping to spy a Healer she knows.
There's an apprentice dragonhealer standing over by the counter refilling a kit, but no healer, although Thera has been known to stich someone up from time to time. Don't tell Ita. A pot of numbweed is sniffed and then sniffed again, nose wrinkling as she wonders if it's gone off or not. Only one way to tell and an unredworted finger dips into the pot. "Oh friggen wherry snot," is the answer. At least it works.
Nomi knows Thera, that will do. She walks closer and gives a sheepish sort of smile. "Heya... is it okay? Think I could get some of that?"
That finger is almost...almost put to her mouth to be licked clean. But really that would have just been stupid and Thera tries not to be that. Most times. Dark eyes lift to look at Nomi and are accompanied by a quick nod as she reaches for a cloth, "Numbweed? Sure but why? Are you hurt?"
Nomi just gives her a look, a Weyrwoman's look, the one that says everything when she says nothing at all, and means there will be no answer to that, at least not right now. She'll glance around, too, and then duck behind one of the curtained sections. "Just sore, just sore." She shucks off her outer-tunic and pulls the soft inner shirt out of her brigga. Carefully -- stiffly -- she pulls it up off her back and turns around. "How bad is it?"
The bruising on Nomi's back is... impressive. All across her shoulders and back, her shoulder blades having taken the brunt of it. There's darker purple patches and lighter ones, layering over one another with that nice hideous color bruises get after about a week. It looks like she's been thrown into a wall... which is, in fact, what happened.
Thera
Long and lean are apt adjectives for Thera's physical and facial characteristics. Hip length black hair with indigo hues threading in the half light fall usually in a loose braid straight down her back. A darkened oval frame to a pale complexion. Bangs tendril freely over a deeply set bistre coloured and myrtle flecked gaze that is ringed with shadows from lashes and made blacker still by dusky circles beneath her gaze. With high and angular cheekbones, a slightly hawkish nose and wide set lips that rest above a pointed and narrow chin, Thera is anything but beautiful. Weyrling life attempts to add muscle to her form but it is all sinew and bone beneath a weedy form. Pragmatism and practicality are the veneer brushed over a bundle of raw emotions that simmer beneath.
A thin piece of leather cord holds a bronze wrapped shell that slips in and out of her clothing. Another small pouch of cloth tangles around the first, its contents can't be more then a hair's weight.
Thera's hair has been gathered to one side and braided into a long low runner tail that drifts across her shoulder. Crisp white cotton billows down from a scooped neckline in a midriff skimming short cap sleeved blouse. Cool and airy even at the worst of summer's heat. Midnight blue pants hang low on her hips, dipping to a gentle V just below her navel. White lacing secures them at the hips and ankles. Light leather sandals are strapped precariously to her feet.
Thera is 20 Turns, 10 months, and 13 days old.
Nomi pulls the tunic right off them, but keeps it to her chest for warmth, and leans onto her elbows on the cot. Her hair is in braids, today, which keeps those bloodred curls out of the way. "Sidijith usually just washes the hurt away, but she's sleeping again and I thought I'd best make sure there's no serious problem." Obviously Nomi should have checked that out days ago, but aside from being stiff and bruised its not very serious. As the n'weed hits her sort skin she stiffens and then relaxes a heartbeat later. "Oh Faranth... that feels good." See, don't answer questions and they might go away... probabaly not, but Nomi tries it anyway.
Thera's touch is at the least gentle and methodical as she applies the stuff. She's had practice this last turn. Fingers find the sides of her back, "I'm going to press a bit and see if you have a crack rib or anything, otherwise we call a healer and you can get thoroughly check. J'cobi's dragon is a bit of a gossip though." Her tone is firm in that and there's a warning there too. She'll hedge her guesses though and sitting back, "was he that angry?" It wouldn't surprise her if he was, but it would if it was deliberate.
Nomi rolls the sorest bits of her back into the not-healer's hands and just makes happy noises for awhile. She'll sink the front of her lower onto the cot to rest her head on the back of her hand in silence for awhile. Then, "Accientally, really, I'm sure he doesn't even know he did it... " she'll turn so she can catch Thera's eye. "And I'd like to keep it that way, Thera, please." No J'cobi. No Healers. Nothing is broken.... "I hit my head again, too. I've been told to stop doing that." Nomi knows she owes more explanation than that, but is still trying to figure out what happened. "It was.. I don't know what it was. Sidijith hit Xanth with something, dragon-strong, not meant for Th'deus, but Xanth, being Xanth, flooded the Weyrleader with it and ..." Nomi shakes her head and turns back, turns away. "He touches me, once, and ends up almost getting his brain fried by my dragon, and I end up in here. I think the fates are against us, Thera, I really do." She sounds sad about that. Whistful. Young.
Thera makes a small gurgling noise which is seriously empathetic. She'll finish and nudge her hip against Nomi's to find room and steal the edge of the cot by perching there. "Let that soak for a bit." Her own shoulders twitch though at the confirmation of the guess, "Sometimes it seems that way doesn't it?" Rather candidly she admits, "you learn to survive the misery for those short pieces of marvelous joy and I wonder if that's what we get addicted on. Why it can't just be like that all the time." Thera sits there half the size she was and her own frailty bouyed by the strenth of a dragon. That's embarrasing so she fiddles with the pot lid, twisting it tighter. "He's a good man Nomi even if he doesn't believe it. I'm sure he didn't either. Does your head hurt?" The last trying to pull for some clinical detachment only with worry threaded through it.
Nomi had noticed her, of course, her and T'jano both, but hasn't managed to find the time to sit with her old friend -- once her best friend. In truth she's been avoiding T'jano above all others, too guilty to want to face him. She doesn't know what would be worse. Tej's understanding or his anger. -- Turning her head to the side again, she'll stay as ordered to let the numbweed do its work. "That feels marvelous Thera. Thank you." On the rest, "Its not my misery I'm worried about. Its... yes, he's a good man. And a good father." Nomi closes her eyes and just lets the weed do its work. "He's Fort's Weyrleader and, barring some serious intervention, he will be again. That's enough, isn't it?" Stormy green eyes flicker open again, seeking solace she knows is not to be found. "I have to stop wanting more?"
Realizing what she's doing, the pot is set to her feet and Thera leans forward to see the turn of Nomi's head, catch her gaze. "Is it? I didn't think so and I still don't. If I stop wanting, I just stop. Everything and it gets worse and I don't care." T'jano offers dreams that she clings to and then he forgets, but she's still there clinging to them. "I don't want to not care." The shell may have been cracked open and what's inside isn't pretty, but she's learning to deal with that and selfish to boot. "I hate that T'jano's miserable because I'm miserable but neither of us can stop. I don't want to be a martyr either though." It's all very confusing to her.
Nomi is young but not completely narcissistic, and does know the world does not, in fact, revolve around her. Sidijith perhaps, sometimes, but... The winter chill is felt, even in here -- though the infirmary is better cool than warm, for everyone's sake, so Nomi will ease the tunic back over her head and let it sit wetly on the numbweed. Plus then she can sit up which makes her look slightly less green. She'll sit herself gently to the cot and rub at the back of her head to answer the earlier question, "The headache was enough to make me lose my meals, for a day or two, but its better now. And I've been in here enough times to know there's nothing they can do for my hurt head except monitor me, and that's already over." It might explain her aversion to fellis though, and excessive drinking. Nomi's not got that many braincells left. "So..." She pats the cot next to her, "Sit a minute, Thera. /Talk/ to me? How are you? How is T'jano?" What /happened/? is all in her look.
That sound might come again but Thera does sit back and rolls her eyes. Where to start. "We're okay," for now. "T'jano's been wonderful with Roro. He's a great father and I'm hoping Marryn will ... well drop the punishment, let the Weyr deal with it." She'll wind her braid around her fingers and sigh heavily. "Lots happened while you were away. He adores Mrrth but we've nearly lost them a few times. Everything seems to get lost then found then lost again." Dark eyes, tiny flecks of myrtle to give them colour glance over with a wry smile, "Hadamarth is wonderful though. My rock." The perfect dragon for a seriously unperfect girl, "deserves better."
Now who is being evasive? Nomi doesn't push, she never really pushes. She leans, she pokes, she nudges, she suggests, she waits, and sometimes she does nothing at all, but she never pushes. "I'm to be at Boll next sevenday, I can have a word with sir Marryn if I think it would help." Of course she has no idea what charges, what punishment, and what Tej has done, but she'll look into it. "Sidijith doesn't talk much to Mrrth at all," adds Nomi thoughtfully, "Is.. slippery an approrpriate observation? Not in a bad way, not slimey or evasive, Sidijith says its like trying to talk to mist. Hadamarth she likes very much." A short laugh, at Thera's deprecation. "Sidijith told me that every day while we were gone... that she deseves better. I used to think she was joking, but she's stopped it now that we're back home."
Dia quietly enters from the bowl.
Nomi sits carefully on a cot in her skivvie-shirt and brigga talking quietly with Thera.
Dia storms into the Fort Infirmary, thunderclouds evident in her expression. Stomping her feet to rid them of excess snow, she peers around her, not finding what she seeks and scowling deeper. From the doorway behind her, a brown head pokes into the Infirmary and if a dragon could appear smugly amused, he would be.
Thera grins. They are always quick and tentative, these smiles of hers. "You need to talk with him. He missed you, T'jano." Her only task in this warped family is to deliver rotten news and survival is simply that, survival. "I think we've got some understanding worked out between the three of us." But time will tell. The storming brownrider causes Thera to move the curtain aside, now that Nomi is decent and they'll be space for both of them to peer out proper. A blink, "Dia? Something wrong."
Nomi doesn't recognize Dia, really, after these turns, and is making to get the rest of her clothes back on too. "Thank you, Thera. This was helpful. And I will come and visit you soon, see how the little Roc is doing too?" Nomi's going to start calling him Pebbles... Thad can be Bambam. She trusts the Brownrider to keep her secrets.
--
To: *Fort Weyr (#3978)
Subject: The Unlucky Weyrwoman
Nomi, returned to Fort, has brought with her some few bits of Ierne. This includes:
- fresh exotic fruits and veggies, enough for everyone to have a taste or two.
- barrels of oddly spiced dragon oil and firelizard salves
- firelizard eggs
- a new board-game with hundreds of little fancy tiles you have to pair up (Mahjong)
- assorted fancy sets of dragon dice
- a penchant for tiny bits of fish and veggies tucked into rice and wrapped in seaweed
- roll after roll of very thin Ierne-woven sisal in various colors
Most of this she has donated to Fort Weyr's stores to be used as required, so rp with it as it suits you! @read 28 on *fl if you're interested in the eggs. @send Nomi if you'd like a working pair of dragon dice. I hear its all the rage. :D
Apparently if you play dice with Nomi, she's stunningly unlucky at this game. Rumor has her owing favors to just about everyone she's played with, including some rumor about oil, wine, and hands-on favors to Fort's injured brownrider R'ish. Lets hope Nomi's been doing more than gaming and drinking in the month that she's been back.
--
Nomi's back so of course she and the Weyrleader are having... issues. At one of their ill-fated meetings Sidijith channeled some emotion to Xanth, dragon to dragon, that wasn't meant for human consumption only he ate it and fed it to Th'deus who, in his struggle to maintain control accidentally kicked Nomi into a wall. For various reasons she doesn't want him - or anyone - to know. It was /entirely/ accidental. The Weyrleader is a big man, and a dangerous one, but he's never used his strength against her... or any woman I think. Thad is very very careful about that. I just wanted to hit Nomi on the head again. Its Tradition.
Infirmary
The outer infirmary is a large open room so the dragons have easy access to it. The most commonly needed supplies -- those for threadscore -- are here in abundance on a wide shelf. There is also a long sink with cold water for cleaning and numbing wounds and a student healer that can treat threadscore.
The inner infirmary is much smaller, as it need not accomodate a dragon. Intended as the exam room for sick and wounded riders and weyr staff, there is an exam table in the center of the room. There are some chairs scattered about for the concerned friends and family of the sick person.
Labelled cupboards for the major medicinal groups -- tonic, febrifuge, diaphoretic, diuretic, cough medicines, burn treatment, antispasmodic, anodyne, and analgesic -- as well as a general supplies cupboard, line the walls.
You see Deireth and Reineth here.
Thera is here.
--------------------------
Nomi
Slender and slight, with quixotic grey-green eyes and a tumble of soot-edged, blood-red curls, this feisty woman has finally grown into her peaked ears and big teeth. Tanned and toned, a certain felinic power has been gained along with her health and she moves with surety and even a measure of grace. The shadow of her dragon lurks just beneath the surface.
A simple copper ring adorns one hand; no knot is visible to denote her rank.
Nomi is 23 Turns and 9 months old.
Threadfall hardens the shell of this young weyrwoman, hardening her armor against all the world.
Nomi slides in, avoiding the main weyrs this time, and looking dressed for working. She moves stiffly though and will stand awkwardly near the door hoping to spy a Healer she knows.
There's an apprentice dragonhealer standing over by the counter refilling a kit, but no healer, although Thera has been known to stich someone up from time to time. Don't tell Ita. A pot of numbweed is sniffed and then sniffed again, nose wrinkling as she wonders if it's gone off or not. Only one way to tell and an unredworted finger dips into the pot. "Oh friggen wherry snot," is the answer. At least it works.
Nomi knows Thera, that will do. She walks closer and gives a sheepish sort of smile. "Heya... is it okay? Think I could get some of that?"
That finger is almost...almost put to her mouth to be licked clean. But really that would have just been stupid and Thera tries not to be that. Most times. Dark eyes lift to look at Nomi and are accompanied by a quick nod as she reaches for a cloth, "Numbweed? Sure but why? Are you hurt?"
Nomi just gives her a look, a Weyrwoman's look, the one that says everything when she says nothing at all, and means there will be no answer to that, at least not right now. She'll glance around, too, and then duck behind one of the curtained sections. "Just sore, just sore." She shucks off her outer-tunic and pulls the soft inner shirt out of her brigga. Carefully -- stiffly -- she pulls it up off her back and turns around. "How bad is it?"
The bruising on Nomi's back is... impressive. All across her shoulders and back, her shoulder blades having taken the brunt of it. There's darker purple patches and lighter ones, layering over one another with that nice hideous color bruises get after about a week. It looks like she's been thrown into a wall... which is, in fact, what happened.
Thera
Long and lean are apt adjectives for Thera's physical and facial characteristics. Hip length black hair with indigo hues threading in the half light fall usually in a loose braid straight down her back. A darkened oval frame to a pale complexion. Bangs tendril freely over a deeply set bistre coloured and myrtle flecked gaze that is ringed with shadows from lashes and made blacker still by dusky circles beneath her gaze. With high and angular cheekbones, a slightly hawkish nose and wide set lips that rest above a pointed and narrow chin, Thera is anything but beautiful. Weyrling life attempts to add muscle to her form but it is all sinew and bone beneath a weedy form. Pragmatism and practicality are the veneer brushed over a bundle of raw emotions that simmer beneath.
A thin piece of leather cord holds a bronze wrapped shell that slips in and out of her clothing. Another small pouch of cloth tangles around the first, its contents can't be more then a hair's weight.
Thera's hair has been gathered to one side and braided into a long low runner tail that drifts across her shoulder. Crisp white cotton billows down from a scooped neckline in a midriff skimming short cap sleeved blouse. Cool and airy even at the worst of summer's heat. Midnight blue pants hang low on her hips, dipping to a gentle V just below her navel. White lacing secures them at the hips and ankles. Light leather sandals are strapped precariously to her feet.
Thera is 20 Turns, 10 months, and 13 days old.
Nomi pulls the tunic right off them, but keeps it to her chest for warmth, and leans onto her elbows on the cot. Her hair is in braids, today, which keeps those bloodred curls out of the way. "Sidijith usually just washes the hurt away, but she's sleeping again and I thought I'd best make sure there's no serious problem." Obviously Nomi should have checked that out days ago, but aside from being stiff and bruised its not very serious. As the n'weed hits her sort skin she stiffens and then relaxes a heartbeat later. "Oh Faranth... that feels good." See, don't answer questions and they might go away... probabaly not, but Nomi tries it anyway.
Thera's touch is at the least gentle and methodical as she applies the stuff. She's had practice this last turn. Fingers find the sides of her back, "I'm going to press a bit and see if you have a crack rib or anything, otherwise we call a healer and you can get thoroughly check. J'cobi's dragon is a bit of a gossip though." Her tone is firm in that and there's a warning there too. She'll hedge her guesses though and sitting back, "was he that angry?" It wouldn't surprise her if he was, but it would if it was deliberate.
Nomi rolls the sorest bits of her back into the not-healer's hands and just makes happy noises for awhile. She'll sink the front of her lower onto the cot to rest her head on the back of her hand in silence for awhile. Then, "Accientally, really, I'm sure he doesn't even know he did it... " she'll turn so she can catch Thera's eye. "And I'd like to keep it that way, Thera, please." No J'cobi. No Healers. Nothing is broken.... "I hit my head again, too. I've been told to stop doing that." Nomi knows she owes more explanation than that, but is still trying to figure out what happened. "It was.. I don't know what it was. Sidijith hit Xanth with something, dragon-strong, not meant for Th'deus, but Xanth, being Xanth, flooded the Weyrleader with it and ..." Nomi shakes her head and turns back, turns away. "He touches me, once, and ends up almost getting his brain fried by my dragon, and I end up in here. I think the fates are against us, Thera, I really do." She sounds sad about that. Whistful. Young.
Thera makes a small gurgling noise which is seriously empathetic. She'll finish and nudge her hip against Nomi's to find room and steal the edge of the cot by perching there. "Let that soak for a bit." Her own shoulders twitch though at the confirmation of the guess, "Sometimes it seems that way doesn't it?" Rather candidly she admits, "you learn to survive the misery for those short pieces of marvelous joy and I wonder if that's what we get addicted on. Why it can't just be like that all the time." Thera sits there half the size she was and her own frailty bouyed by the strenth of a dragon. That's embarrasing so she fiddles with the pot lid, twisting it tighter. "He's a good man Nomi even if he doesn't believe it. I'm sure he didn't either. Does your head hurt?" The last trying to pull for some clinical detachment only with worry threaded through it.
Nomi had noticed her, of course, her and T'jano both, but hasn't managed to find the time to sit with her old friend -- once her best friend. In truth she's been avoiding T'jano above all others, too guilty to want to face him. She doesn't know what would be worse. Tej's understanding or his anger. -- Turning her head to the side again, she'll stay as ordered to let the numbweed do its work. "That feels marvelous Thera. Thank you." On the rest, "Its not my misery I'm worried about. Its... yes, he's a good man. And a good father." Nomi closes her eyes and just lets the weed do its work. "He's Fort's Weyrleader and, barring some serious intervention, he will be again. That's enough, isn't it?" Stormy green eyes flicker open again, seeking solace she knows is not to be found. "I have to stop wanting more?"
Realizing what she's doing, the pot is set to her feet and Thera leans forward to see the turn of Nomi's head, catch her gaze. "Is it? I didn't think so and I still don't. If I stop wanting, I just stop. Everything and it gets worse and I don't care." T'jano offers dreams that she clings to and then he forgets, but she's still there clinging to them. "I don't want to not care." The shell may have been cracked open and what's inside isn't pretty, but she's learning to deal with that and selfish to boot. "I hate that T'jano's miserable because I'm miserable but neither of us can stop. I don't want to be a martyr either though." It's all very confusing to her.
Nomi is young but not completely narcissistic, and does know the world does not, in fact, revolve around her. Sidijith perhaps, sometimes, but... The winter chill is felt, even in here -- though the infirmary is better cool than warm, for everyone's sake, so Nomi will ease the tunic back over her head and let it sit wetly on the numbweed. Plus then she can sit up which makes her look slightly less green. She'll sit herself gently to the cot and rub at the back of her head to answer the earlier question, "The headache was enough to make me lose my meals, for a day or two, but its better now. And I've been in here enough times to know there's nothing they can do for my hurt head except monitor me, and that's already over." It might explain her aversion to fellis though, and excessive drinking. Nomi's not got that many braincells left. "So..." She pats the cot next to her, "Sit a minute, Thera. /Talk/ to me? How are you? How is T'jano?" What /happened/? is all in her look.
That sound might come again but Thera does sit back and rolls her eyes. Where to start. "We're okay," for now. "T'jano's been wonderful with Roro. He's a great father and I'm hoping Marryn will ... well drop the punishment, let the Weyr deal with it." She'll wind her braid around her fingers and sigh heavily. "Lots happened while you were away. He adores Mrrth but we've nearly lost them a few times. Everything seems to get lost then found then lost again." Dark eyes, tiny flecks of myrtle to give them colour glance over with a wry smile, "Hadamarth is wonderful though. My rock." The perfect dragon for a seriously unperfect girl, "deserves better."
Now who is being evasive? Nomi doesn't push, she never really pushes. She leans, she pokes, she nudges, she suggests, she waits, and sometimes she does nothing at all, but she never pushes. "I'm to be at Boll next sevenday, I can have a word with sir Marryn if I think it would help." Of course she has no idea what charges, what punishment, and what Tej has done, but she'll look into it. "Sidijith doesn't talk much to Mrrth at all," adds Nomi thoughtfully, "Is.. slippery an approrpriate observation? Not in a bad way, not slimey or evasive, Sidijith says its like trying to talk to mist. Hadamarth she likes very much." A short laugh, at Thera's deprecation. "Sidijith told me that every day while we were gone... that she deseves better. I used to think she was joking, but she's stopped it now that we're back home."
Dia quietly enters from the bowl.
Nomi sits carefully on a cot in her skivvie-shirt and brigga talking quietly with Thera.
Dia storms into the Fort Infirmary, thunderclouds evident in her expression. Stomping her feet to rid them of excess snow, she peers around her, not finding what she seeks and scowling deeper. From the doorway behind her, a brown head pokes into the Infirmary and if a dragon could appear smugly amused, he would be.
Thera grins. They are always quick and tentative, these smiles of hers. "You need to talk with him. He missed you, T'jano." Her only task in this warped family is to deliver rotten news and survival is simply that, survival. "I think we've got some understanding worked out between the three of us." But time will tell. The storming brownrider causes Thera to move the curtain aside, now that Nomi is decent and they'll be space for both of them to peer out proper. A blink, "Dia? Something wrong."
Nomi doesn't recognize Dia, really, after these turns, and is making to get the rest of her clothes back on too. "Thank you, Thera. This was helpful. And I will come and visit you soon, see how the little Roc is doing too?" Nomi's going to start calling him Pebbles... Thad can be Bambam. She trusts the Brownrider to keep her secrets.
--
To: *Fort Weyr (#3978)
Subject: The Unlucky Weyrwoman
Nomi, returned to Fort, has brought with her some few bits of Ierne. This includes:
- fresh exotic fruits and veggies, enough for everyone to have a taste or two.
- barrels of oddly spiced dragon oil and firelizard salves
- firelizard eggs
- a new board-game with hundreds of little fancy tiles you have to pair up (Mahjong)
- assorted fancy sets of dragon dice
- a penchant for tiny bits of fish and veggies tucked into rice and wrapped in seaweed
- roll after roll of very thin Ierne-woven sisal in various colors
Most of this she has donated to Fort Weyr's stores to be used as required, so rp with it as it suits you! @read 28 on *fl if you're interested in the eggs. @send Nomi if you'd like a working pair of dragon dice. I hear its all the rage. :D
Apparently if you play dice with Nomi, she's stunningly unlucky at this game. Rumor has her owing favors to just about everyone she's played with, including some rumor about oil, wine, and hands-on favors to Fort's injured brownrider R'ish. Lets hope Nomi's been doing more than gaming and drinking in the month that she's been back.
--