Nia

Nia says she's all about letting people be themselves. Living in Munchkin Country, she meets quirky beings every day but is vocal about letting them be who they want to be. Of course, she sounds like a saint.

The munchkins who know her tell a different tale. Naggy Nia is a favorite name for her among the neighbors.

"She just won't let anyone be"

"Last week I offered to weed her garden, she's a right ol' pain, and tried to correct everything I did"

Naggy Nia is a hypocritical saint, she talks tall and speaks sweet, but she hates to deal with the munchkins who don't do things the way she wants. She will poke and prod and nag until you are the battered, tired munchkin who will do as she desires, just to get that hag to get off your case.

She stands on her purple porch watching the Yellow Brick Road, and fidgets with the beads around her neck. She tells people that the old necklace makes her feel timeless and motherly, but few know the real story. An old warlock once reached the edge of Munchkin Country, and he was a wise fellow that nobody quite knew what to make of. Quiet, tired, and overwhelmed by the Munchkins' excitement, the warlock told the munchkins that he was going to leave his belongings here, and pass on...whatever that meant.

The locals, sweet as they were, wanted to use his belongings to make a shrine to remember the warlock, but Nia nagged and nagged, convincing (but actually exhausting) everyone that it would be better to distribute the warlock's effects. Quite naturally, her next move was to latch on to the warlock's intricately beaded necklace and guilting everyone into letting her have it.

"Oh, but it reminds me of my great-granny so, if she were here wouldn't it look just precious on her? Gran how this necklace makes me think of you, would you want me to keep it to remember you by?"

So it came to be that the precious necklace belonged to haggy-naggy-nia.

Her purple porch extends from a house dipped in the brightest shade of yellow, with ivy growing up the sides. Besides her door is a small duck pond, which she frequents to feed oats to the ducks and to chide the little ducklings for playing in the water.

Nia is usually up before sunrise, and bustles about the house, reminding the rooster not to cock-a-doodle-doo too loudly when the sun rises. She often sips her morning tea watching the sunrise, and tells others that it gives her inner peace.

To her south, there is a garden that Nia has carefully tended herself, in which grow the most exotic of berries and the sweetest of fruits, tempting enough that all the little munchkin children try to steal them over the summer, despite the risk of getting caught by Nia.

At the end of each day, in front of the sunset, Nia spends an hour scribbling in a notebook, writing about her day, who she met, and what she wants from the next day. She calls it journaling, but the other munchkins call it her balance sheet, likening it to a master copy of what Nia saw today that wasn't perfect, and what she wants to see tomorrow that will be.

Her workshop is in the north garage of her house, where she goes every day to tend to little pots she makes for her south garden. They are covered in more yellow, she tells the bees attracted to the pots to stay in the garden, and that the paint isn't dry yet. She has more pots than she could ever plant, but she's worried that they will break if she gives some to the neighbors, she has to always tell them off for being irresponsible anyways. So her workshop is lined with ceiling-high shelves of bright yellow pots, bags of clay, and buckets of paint. Jingling her beads, she bustles between the shelves, mumbling about more pots in the garden and stolen fruit.