(no subject)
Okay.
Because that last curse was just fucking stupid, let's get one thing straight.
Prophecy's all fun and games until you're the fucking prophet, and you're doing something nice with you day, like say, taking a walk or swimming or cutting really hard swedes with a big bloody knife and bam, next thing you know you've fallen and broken a bone or you're drowning or bleeding because you just spouted rhyming bloody poetry about some asshat that doesn't make sense anyway and no one will believe.
There are two kinds of prophecy - the kind that makes sense, which is plain and simple and usually in language even babies can fucking understand, so naturally, no one believes you. That's the Cassandra effect.
The second kind is the kind no one understands because it's in poetry and you spout off on crowns or blood or birds or what the fuck ever, so naturally, people think you're onto something but they get it wrong. That's the Fedelma effect.
Both suck. Both suck for the prophet who was having a nice normal day and now has to see your fucking future. And then it sucks more because people blame you for shite that you're not bloody responsible for.
The future's set in stone, sure. I'll even take that the cookies do a bloody good job of keeping things in nice neat packages. But there's no point in worrying about this shite. Even if you do plan ahead, you'll just get it wrong.
[Left for Caspian at his house with a note;]
Fortune cookies from our takeaway drawer. Enjoy them.
-E
Because that last curse was just fucking stupid, let's get one thing straight.
Prophecy's all fun and games until you're the fucking prophet, and you're doing something nice with you day, like say, taking a walk or swimming or cutting really hard swedes with a big bloody knife and bam, next thing you know you've fallen and broken a bone or you're drowning or bleeding because you just spouted rhyming bloody poetry about some asshat that doesn't make sense anyway and no one will believe.
There are two kinds of prophecy - the kind that makes sense, which is plain and simple and usually in language even babies can fucking understand, so naturally, no one believes you. That's the Cassandra effect.
The second kind is the kind no one understands because it's in poetry and you spout off on crowns or blood or birds or what the fuck ever, so naturally, people think you're onto something but they get it wrong. That's the Fedelma effect.
Both suck. Both suck for the prophet who was having a nice normal day and now has to see your fucking future. And then it sucks more because people blame you for shite that you're not bloody responsible for.
The future's set in stone, sure. I'll even take that the cookies do a bloody good job of keeping things in nice neat packages. But there's no point in worrying about this shite. Even if you do plan ahead, you'll just get it wrong.
[Left for Caspian at his house with a note;]
Fortune cookies from our takeaway drawer. Enjoy them.
-E