Shadow: I
curse my enemy, the one who has hurt me. May his
ancestors turn their faces from him and his children deny his name. May the fear of my
wrath haunt him waking and sleeping. May he never know
peace.
Me: Does it make you feel better, spouting that bullshit? I wish you wouldn't, and not just because it's irrational (I know there's no point appealing to reason with you, it's just one of the ways in which you disappoint me). But surely even you can understand that it is unwise, by your own rather primitive standards, to mess with this stuff. Powers beyond your control, and all that. Bad for your karma. Let it go. Justice will take its course, or not, but either way there's not much we can do about it.
S: Don't be such a sanctimonious little bitch. Justice be damned, this is personal. I want him to die. I want to kill him myself, with malice and attention to detail. I want to dismember him with my bare hands; I want to rip his heart still beating from his chest and eat it. I want to paint the signs of war across my breast with his warm blood and dance upon his broken bones. I want wild dogs to fight over his corpse and scatter his vile skeleton beyond any hope of reassembly. I want to annihilate him utterly.
M: You're sick. I don't want to listen to this, it turns my stomach. You frighten and embarrass me. Go away.
S: No. Wuss.
M: Look, you're quite entitled to be upset, but you're losing your grip here, blowing things all out of proportion. Can't you see you're only making it worse? You're keeping me awake at night with this crap, you're messing up my relationships, you're making me behave like a complete asshole and I'm sick of it. It's unpleasant and scary and I want it to stop. Please.
S: No can do. I won't even say sorry, because I'm not. You signed up for the ride, babe, and you can't bale out now just because it's getting a little uncomfortable. You're stuck with me for the duration. Excuse me while I laugh maniacally.
This nodeshell rescued on a bad day.