fandomhigh | Good Omens...And Bad: Prophecy in Theory and Practice, Lab Fourteen

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Good Omens...And Bad: Prophecy in Theory and Practice, Lab Fourteen

As always, students have their pick of a nice arrangement of breakfast treats and beverages. The seating has been arranged into more of a circle than the usual pairs, and in one of the chairs is seated a blond boy in his mid-teens.

"Good morning, everyone! I want to remind everyone that your final projects are due in the box in my office by the end of the day.

This has been an amazing experience for me, and I want to thank all of you again for making my first teaching job such an enjoyable one.

Today, since it's our very last day, we're going to forego the usual experiments. Instead, we have a guest speaker, who's going to tell you a little bit about his experiences with being the subject of a prophecy. Class, this is an acquaintance of mine from Lower Tadfield, Adam Young."

[ooc: OCD ~~will be up momentarily~~ is now up. ~~Woe.~~]

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*sniffle*

Please wait for Adam to ping in here before using this thread.

For questions or comments to Aziraphale during or after class.

For all your gossiping or note-passing needs.

Once again, you guys all rock, and it's been a blast!

Martin Blank

At one point some stealthy individual leaves a gift (http://www.asianartmall.com/Merchant2/merchant.mvc?Screen=PROD&Product_Code=ts008&Category_Code=tset) on the teacher's desk.

Along with a note:

From Angela and myself. Consider it a Christmas gift and a peace offering. At least on my part.

-M

Aziraphale smiled to himself at the gift and the note, and looked up to make certain that Marty saw that smile. He didn't make a big production over it, but simply found a moment to stop by Marty's chair and say quietly, "I was harsh when I should have been supportive, and I'm very sorry. Happy Christmas, my dear."

Adam was a blond young man, with a face that seemed rather not of this age. Like a classical beauty, a painting by Michaelangelo, only if the old master had painted his figures in t-shirts and grubby jeans. It'd been a few years since the apocalypse-that-wasn't. He was now about fourteen years old. He gave the class a smile, and set down the copy of 'The New Aquarian' he'd been busying himself with.

"That was a rather nice 'ntroduction, Aziraphale," he said. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I was part of a lot of prophecies when I was a kid. Not jus' ones by Agnes Nutter, neither. Big ones. The sort they wrote about in Revelation. You see, even though my mum and dad and wonderful, loving parents, and I love them too, they ain't my biological parents, you see? I'm, well, my father is Satan. And I live at Tadfield six, double-six. I don't have to spell it out for you, do I?"

He grinned mischeviously. "Now, me and my gang of friends, we had a wicked time of it. Tibetan tunnels, savin' the whales, boycotting beefburgers to save the rainforest. That's when a bit of me that was the prophecied me tried to take over. Tried to make me do what I was supposed to do. But guess what? What true eleven year ol' kid actually does what his dad wants 'im to do? I beat the prophecy because, well, takin' over the world isn't something you really want to do. Especially when you're young. And me and my friends, we defeated the four horsemen of the Apocy-lips, and saved the world instead of destroyin' it. Prophecies are just peoples hopes and ideas of what's gonna happen. They ain't written in stone. Okay, well, some of 'em are, like the Egyptians, but they were muckin' about with UFOs and stuff, so they don't count. The point is, you're you, and you control you, even if there's some stupid prophecy."

Dean Winchester

Nadia Santos

Nadia leaned rather well forward in her seat, listening to Adam talk. When he seemed done, she raised her hand. "So. You're the Antichrist."

Blair Sandburg

"Well, I suppose I was meant to be," Adam said. "But I'm really just Adam Young, from Tadfield."

Belthazor

S.T. Anders

The class was great, but Bel hated being in the same room as Phoebe and Anders. It was just...uncomfortable.

So he studiously pretended to be busy writing things down.

"And you didn't end up doing anything that the prophesy said?"

Sam Winchester

Sam raised his hand. "Did anything bad happen to you because the prophecy wasn't fulfilled? Like some sort of karmic backlash to punish you."

"The world's still here, isn't it?" Adam said.

Blair sat down next to Bel and tossed a wrapped package (http://www.amazon.com/Positive-Thinking-Vincent-2007-Calendar/dp/B000JOSB7Q/sr=11-1/qid=1166807781/ref=sr_11_1/002-1670329-2446463) to him. "Merry Christmas!"

"Yeah, but . . . any of it at all? Not even a little bit of it?"

"My 'dad' was right miffed," Adam said. "Tried to go about it anyway, but I stopped him."

"Some of it, yeah. I mean, I still fit most of the bill, now, don't I? I just didn't like the end, so I changed it."

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Good Omens...And Bad: Prophecy in Theory and Practice, Lab Fourteen

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