closed starter | @cursedsails // nima location | sawbone
"X's mean toxic, nothing on the label means probably toxic, a skull means deadly, but not if the skull has eyes, that's a face, that means your face will melt straight off, Exsic means dried, Sp means spirit, a dram is a measurable unit of volume but a bloody minim means absolutely nothing and yet is somehow still a measurement, one bone on the label means it's for dogs, two bones means it's for women but only on the full moon and in the latter half of the month of May, and it's only at its maximum potency if the medic is hopelessly in love with the patient, is that correct or shall I go on?"
Afternoons tormenting Nima with obnoxious rambling was an afternoon well spent. Enjoyment distilled like sugar down to syrup, pure and sweet in its essence, a sprinkle too much often left on Jo's tongue. She wandered with slow, leisured steps through the scents of herbs and blood, pads of her fingers sliding across tables and shelves as if to read the tales left within their ridges with her touch. A grin, impish and squirming, ached to wriggle up the side of her mouth. She took up a bottle with a black label, red lettering smudged all around its curves. "What's this, then?"
