The "TELL ME SOMETHING YOU'VE PROBABLY TOLD PLENTY OF PEOPLE" meme

[i-saw-myself.livejournal.com]

Okay, the way this meme works is you comment with a question that can be answered by the characters. Examples: "Do you believe in true love? If not, how do you feel about love?" or "What's the craziest thing you've ever done?" Then other players will respond to the comment and answer the questions. The catch is you can answer the questions IC or OOC. So you can have the character either answer ICly or you can explain the character's viewpoint on the subject. Or you can answer both ways. For instance, you can have your character answer ICly, but elaborate on their viewpoint or state things they wouldn't say out loud. Entirely up to you.

Characters can respond to the answers and play things out like usual.

You can also add new questions. Just make sure you're not repeating something. (You might want to post questions anon-ly, so you don't get a million notifies from the answers).

I'm going to post a bunch of questions to start us off but if you have your own, go nuts!

Comments

[i-saw-myself.livejournal.com]

I was really little. I mean littler, if you can even imagine it. Maybe two or three. It was really cold. Just a bad winter, I guess, but that happened sometimes in Berk. We had some winters where, if the fire went out in the night, you'd nearly freeze to death if you didn't stay under the covers, sometimes the sheep would die in the barns.

It was just one of those awful winter nights where the wind rattled the whole house, and the cold crept into your bones, and I think--I think I'd kicked the covers off at some point while I was sleeping. When I woke up, I was shivering and so cold my hands and feet hurt and I couldn't get warm...so I think I started crying. I must've made some kind of noise, because my dad woke up and came over to my little bed.

He saw I'd kicked off my covers and felt my hands and said, "That's no good." That's it. Just: "That's no good."

He could've just tucked me in again and gone back to sleep, but I remember he...he put on his fur cloak and picked me up and wrapped me up in the blankets and took me downstairs, and got the fire going again in the firepit. And he just kicked up his feet near the fire and sat there holding me, trying to help me warm up by the fire, all wrapped in blankets and half in his cloak. You probably couldn't have have found me in there, all lost in his huge, huge arms and all the blankets and everything--and practically buried in his beard.

His beard was all scratchy, but I used to like it. Because if it was scratching my face, it meant he was hugging me or holding me and he didn't do that much. I used to get my fingers all tangled in it. That had to have annoyed him, having me yank on it like that, but of the many, many things he scolded me for, that was never ever one of them.

And I think he...he smiled at me. As much as my dad smiles, anyway. My head kept nodding, and I couldn't really keep my eyes open, and he looked at me like--like he was just happy I was there.

With all the trouble we had understanding each other, later, if I ever asked myself why I didn't just give up trying to make him proud or give up on trying to make it so we could understand each other, moments like that reminded me why. There was the dad that got all stern at me for every, little thing and was always disappointed in me, but always, underneath that, was the dad that made me breakfast and made sure I didn't have cold hands.