#it's only because of my mother's ingenuity patience and perseverance that I'm not dead 6 times over

[thespiralgrimoire]

Dorothy, Fuegoleon, Mereoleona...

More? More!! Thank!

Dorothy: What's a weird sleep related story?

OH MY GOD I FOUND THIS ABSOLUTE GEM

I was going to talk about my half-assed dream journal, but when I opened it up, this was the first thing in it, so enjoy this dream I have no memory of instead:

We went to watch a movie about Acier when she was young. Turned out that after she’d had Nebra (Nebra and Solid’s birth order was reversed?) she had traveled all over seeking treasure and exploring. This was why the siblings were so close-- they had been in many life or death situations together. Acier was well known as a sailor and her kids were all sailor savvy. Nozel’s personality had not changed much since Acier put way more on him than she should have. Her main goal was to uncover the history of the Silva clan, which had fallen from grace and had its history buried while she was a baby. So basically she wanted to uncover her family’s history and also be Indiana Jones.

Turned out Noelle’s father was a short-term boyfriend who was a centaur on one of the ships they ended up on. The kids tried to talk their mother out of dating the scumbag but to no avail. Still, they were excited about their new sibling and confident that their mother would ditch her boyfriend soon, since she never stayed in relationships long. They were right but Acier still got pregnant, and then sick. They did some serious exploring before she got heavily pregnant and ended up SOMEWHERE that made most of their situation canon compliant.

The older three did all have the same father I think but maybe not because Nebra was a strawberry blonde.

Fuegoleon: What's the worst injury you've ever gotten?

When my sister and I were little, we were running around the house, playing tag or whatever right before bed. Well, one thing led to another, and we ended up running headlong into each other at maximum toddler velocity. Here’s the dramatic retelling pieced together by my mother’s version and my shoddy four-year-old memory of the event.

Mom was on the phone with Dad, who got abruptly hung up on when mom heard the giggles, the thunderous CLOP, and then dead silence. 

For better or worse, the silence quickly ends.

Mom comes running. Sister and I are laid out on the ground like murder victims, except murder victims are quieter and stiller. Goose eggs reaching cartoonish proportions sprout from our prominent foreheads. We are screaming and crying, and also taking swings at each other. Dad is trying to call back. Mom wrestles us apart. Grabs ice packs. Tries to get them on our heads. My little sister is an angry potato; she can be held down and treated, but I am a fierce and mighty hot tamale, and I cannot. The bump on my head, un-iced and roaring for revenge, reaches its peak, and splits my forehead open like a snake splitting through its own egg.

Fun fact! I take a blood thinner for a heart condition (which WOULD have been my worst injury if it weren’t congenital). Know what that means? Blood. Blood everywhere.

Sister is hysterical. HOW DARE I BLEED ON HER. She’s fighting mom now. Mom has reached a state of shock-induced stoicism. There’s so much blood. I cannot be contained. I am outraged. I am swinging at my sister again. My sister is swinging back.

Mom abandons sister. The potato screams while Mom dives on me. She pins me under her. I scream like a banshee while she forcibly administers ice. The bleeding will not stop. The bump must be contained. She grabs glue. In a feat that I can only imagine was a god-given mix of strength and dexterity, she manages to hold me down long enough to glue my forehead shut.

The bleeding stops. The ice pack is being forcibly applied to my stupid little head. The potato is still screaming. Dad is still calling.

Mom must now keep us awake for 24 hours, which is protocol when your toddlers crash their heads together so hard they split open. Sister and I are still trying to pummel each other to pieces. We want to sleep. She will not let us. We continue to scream. We want to fight her. Each other. The World. Somewhere during all this, Dad gets debriefed. He is stuck cities away at work. He is perturbed.

Morning comes. No one has slept. Mom takes us to the doctor. We are tired and pissed. But thanks to Mom’s godlike ability to both wrangle and agitate two vicious toddlers, we are fine.

I still have a scar on my forehead.

Mereoleona: What's something you're really good at?

It’s a personal opinion, but as someone who regards their opinion very highly, I can say with pride that I am hilarious.

Thank you so much for more questions! I hope someone is getting some enjoyment out of them besides me!