I find it deeply aesthetically pleasing, character-wise, that Arthur and Merlin are both very much like their mothers, which is especially meaningful in Arthur's case since he's never known his mother beyond a single painfully brief meeting in "Sins of the Father."
Not only does Arthur look like Ygraine (which adds several layers to the clusterfuck of his and Uther's relationship) but it's clear that he takes after her temperament, too. Yes, he sometimes shows his father's temper, and yes, he does stupid things when he's in a temper, but unlike Uther, who literally took his prejudices to his grave and beyond, Arthur never stays mad at people, and he's overall a far more caring and kind person than his father, which is an interesting case of nature vs nurture.
And then on the other hand, we have Hunith, who told a mounted, armed brigand to go fuck himself, later fought another (also armed) brigand with a twig broom, harboured fugitives on multiple occasions, and raised an illegal magic child out of wedlock, and Merlin "Fuck the Police" Ambrosius, who got in a fistfight, got thrown in jail for the fistfight, called the prince a bitch to his face in a public market square, got in a second, armed fight all within his first 48 hours in Camelot, and then committed treason on a daily basis for the next 10+ years, compared to Balinor, who became a weird antisocial hermit that lived in a cave for twenty years.
couldn't have said it better myself bestie
also, there's a reason hunith and ygraine never met in the show. their dynamic duo would outshine everyone, they'd be unstoppable, untouchable, I FEEL ROBBED
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Perditus grunted a little as he adjusted his leg while laying down against the rock. It was a pleasant day, all things considered: the sun was warm without being smoldering, the winds were strong but not as harsh as usual, and he had something to make the pain a little more bearable.
With his eyes shut he fished a flint lighter and a medicinal sghitt out of the pouch under his thigh armor.
He didn't bother looking as he heard footsteps approach quickly; medication stuck between his teeth, he clicked lazily until he caught the telltale crackle of papery tissue catching fire, took the longest, deepest inhale he could, soaking in the acrid taste and familiar burn in the back of his head, and let an enormous cloud of septic-smelling smoke blow out of his mouth with a growling sigh.
His fellow debtor sat beside him nervously, scanning the horizon.
"Any news?" he asked.
"I was going to ask you," the Glatorian replied.
"None, then."
"None."
Hard nails tapped far too quickly against the rock.
Perditus took another drag. The numbing effect was starting to take hold of his anguishing limb.
"Do you think it'll be soon?" Atakus asked.
The Tapyri exhaled: "Maybe."
"Yes or no?"
"Maybe, I said."
"Maybe means nothing," the other said, glaring at him with his typical nervous anger, the fact that the larger being still wasn't looking at him inconsequential: "Will it be soon, yes or no?"
A shrug: "Probably, yes."
"You think?"
"Unless he wants to observe these freaks of nature do their merry little dance in a new environment for a while. But I'll bet a guy like him has already watched them long enough to get bored by now."
Another pause.
The hard nails were now scratching at the stone.
Another long drag and a puff of smoke.
"Do you think he'll kill us before or after the plan's done?"
"Who knows," Perditus answered lazily. He reclined his head to better bask in the sun. "Before would be a little annoying. For us, of course, he wouldn't care if we never saw what all this thankless work has been for. But then again we're his cannon fodder - maybe he'll wait till he has no need even for that."
He played with his sghitt, turning it between his fingers.
The knowledge that his eventual instantaneous murder would be inevitable had slowly but surely numbed him to the very same fact across the span of the many, interminable centuries that had passed since the day he'd started wracking up this blasted debt, and his only request (which he knew would never be taken into consideration) was to be allowed to die slowly, painfully, so that he could at least feel the life leave his body properly; but Atakus had never managed to make peace with the horror of their shared fate, and now that the moment was drawing near he was every day a little closer to losing his mind completely to the horror of his situation.
Frankly he was surprised the Potori had lived this long, with as anxious a disposition as he had. He'd always imagined he'd get out of his shackles with a stroke.
And yet here they both were.
Awaiting the second coming of a cruel god.
And while entire species were about to be massacred into heaps of melting, wailing scraps any second or day or month now, they were sitting against a rock under a pleasantly warm sun bathing in its light.
He could hear the Agori's irregular breath become louder.
"How's your leg?" Atakus asked in a fruitless attempt at changing the course of his spiraling thoughts.
"Hurts as usual." Perditus replied. "How's your heart?"
"Beating too fast," the Potori answered, "As usual."
The Glatorian's hand leaned over to the smaller being, offering the sghitt between his index and middle: "Take as many as you need."
The medicine was taken from his fingers by significantly shakier ones. He listened to the air slither with a long hiss into Atakus's lungs for the first time; the second was a little longer, a little less frantic, followed by a loud sigh; the third time was slow and deliberate, finally a little more at ease.
He listened to the sound of Skrall armor scraping against stone as the Agori laid back against the warm rock with him. A smaller hand placed the medication back in his palm, and he hummed gratefully before taking another drag himself.
The wind picked up slightly and dragged the smoke away from them.
He opened his eyes blearily, squinting in the sun.
Such a nice day.
Something far, far away, up in the clear sky, exploded. He saw the burst, a blot of bright hot color tearing apart the stratosphere, and long lines of white and faint red as pieces of whatever that was tried to land on Spherus Magna; but the destroyed body was barely above the size of a dot from where he was, and its meteors shriveled up into dust before coming anywhere close to the highest point available for them to strike, and in the end nothing of whatever tragedy had just transpired mattered at all.
The Glatorian hummed.
"Did something happen?" Atakus asked, eyes closed.
"No," his companion reassured him. "Relax."
The Potori did not respond, and got a little more comfortable.
Perditus glanced at him.
Maybe it made sense - he mused for a second, a second only - for Velika, of all cruel, paradoxical beings, to one day have complete and total control over this cruel, paradoxical world.
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oke everything's cool now so guess what new art tool i finally got :DDD
PEN TABLET YEAA
so I made a lizzy, fencing.
headcanon: while I don't think lizzy is the type to yell during a bout, I imagined a time when she beat someone especially hard and had to give a victory exclamation.
I also want to imagine that after BoA, o!ciel was then prompted to go to one of her tournaments. and he's happy because the person he's routing for is winning.
I'm going to art rant now so unless you wanna see that, thanks for viewing!
this is my first time working with pen pressure in digital art and I am incredibly pleased. I thought it would take me much longer to get user to, and I'm still pretty bumpy(not to mention it crashes on me) but otherwise it's actually going pretty good! I look forward to experimenting with digital painting in the new program I'm using. as of right now, I'm actually going slower than expected(these took like 5 hours 😶) which is ironic cause apparently having a pen tablet should make you faster according to other artists. but I think that's expected with where i am currently.
with all of this though I gotta make sure to not forget how to draw with my finger cause I still have a bunch of WIPs that I wanna finish on procreate😅... like a lot l😶
k I'm done now
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hmm. had an actual conversation with nightmare coworker today that seemed mutually productive. she apologized for saying some bullshit that hurt my feelings and i clarified that my intentions are to help not to undermine her, and we both agreed that there's no competition against each other and that it's the lack of growth in our role that's the problem. it was...productive.
and further cementing for me that it is time to begin making my Exit. i will be sending out my resume to a few places this weekend.
i'm still processing the conversation, and am struggling to place myself in where i am responsible to better my behavior. because i genuinely don't want to be an ass, even though i really don't like this lady and will jump for joy the day i never have to see her again. she stated that she knows my intentions aren't to hurt her, and that she thinks i'm very kind. i apologized for if my behavior came off as undermining her, and said that my intentions are only to better my own growth—and that i know she's trying to succeed too. i validated her feelings, and complemented the effort she is putting in.
where i'm struggling with is: am i in the wrong/causing harm and needing to change if the issue is that her feelings are incongruent with what she knows of my intentions? her feelings are her responsibility (WOW i almost typed "her feelings are my responsibility". i feel like that's a freudian slip) and she states that she knows i don't mean to hurt her. i'm going to try to be more clear in wording my intentions with her (she feels like me trying to take work off her plate is to undermine her. when really, i'm caught up and see her getting overwhelmed, and i want to help and also have something to do since i'm bored).
but i'm really struggling to look at my role in this and pass judgement on myself. i can and want to do better, and i don't think i did anything wrong, but i'm always so hesitant to say it's not my fault or i didn't do something bad. like i can't trust my judgement on that. my intentions were good, her bad feelings are ones caused by her insecurities, which she more or less has expressed to be aware that they are not true—the hurtful thing she said to me, she acknowledged was said out of hurt and not what she actually thinks. so, is it fair to say i'm not the bad guy? i'm not in the wrong? i know good intentions that still result in harm don't absolve anyone, but when the things that are clashing are insufficient communication and reactive insecurities... i'm not a monster, am i?
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