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this would go crazy on the holonet
an old draft of sabacc nite at 79’s
me personally, my self respect and self control would vanish asap if I ever made it into 79’s✌️😔
(Narrative ALT text by @eclec-tech ✨)
✨ The Mysterious Holographer! 😎🤌🤌
Alpha-17 is a dangerous man! 👀 If his mission is taking the best holopics, he‘ll succeed 🫡 Nobody is safe, no excuses! 😳 He even got the latest awesome shit holopad from GAR goods!
The reason why he’s the man to succeed this challenging mission, because he’s most likely the only one of the GAR that is actually able to force convince superiors like the grumpy Marshal Commander Fox and growling Commander Wolffe into a Commander Squad group holopic despite them being gothic styled! 😎✨
The conspiracy around the Mysterious Holographer is revealing now and you‘ll find a little gift and the reason for this collab under the gallery of Alpha‘s so far holoshots! 👀
GAR Goth Night - Revival!
Candid Holo Photo's of Your's Truely
Tahny's favorite drink is called a Blue Ga'haiian, named from her home world but containing very little of their actual exports. She often has to instruct the bartender how to make it and so she might as well share the recipe with you all.
Blue (Ga)Hawaiian
¾ oz Light Rum
¾ oz Vodka
½ oz Blue Curacao
1 oz Sweet and Sour
3 oz Pineapple Juice
Citrus Juice
Simple Syrup
Non Holo version under the cut where you can see everyone better, but spec that alt text babes. Wouldn't want to miss the details.
Running into the worst people can really bring some bite to a party.
Inspired by @fiveminutetrash's Gar Goth Hunter design! (And a suggestion from a lil Mikkian fairy)
He actually went for it fam, too bad Tahny is gonna make him regret that.
It's hard to pick your own poison for the first time
Growl is @/drachengreif's (IG) clone OC who kindly commissioned me for this painting
GAR Goth Night Rex!
As imagined by @eclec-tech in their “It was a Dark and Gothy Night” fic (check it out below!), I present a rather salaciously-clad Captain for your consideration.
💬 1 🔁 14 ❤️ 18 · It Was a Dark and Gothy Night 🖤 · https://archiveofourown.org/works/63659299/chapters/163177798 It's GAR Goth Night at 7
Once again stealing @eobe tag list like I believe I’m supposed to :
@ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @foxwithadarkside @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @fiveminutetrash @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @skellymom @vimse @gargothnightzine @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @thora-sniper @blackseafoam @nocturius8015ficore @covert1ntrovert
Fox Headcanons Pt. 1
Despises 79s. Not because of the noise and countless bodies, but because there's always so much going on that he finds it difficult to properly relax. He's hard-wired to keep Coruscant safe from threats, and it only heightens in a dark, loud place full of plastoid and spirits. Of course, if Wolffe happens to be on shore leave and invites him for a rare night out, he'll accept. But don't expect him to have more than two drinks the entire night - or for that rigid posture to loosen up while he's there. He saves that for later when he can finally, finally take his armor off and slip into his bunk. If he could have it his way, he'd have Wolffe over for a long nap and a few hushed laughs before one or both of them has to return to duty.
He's a certified overthinker. Like almost to the point it could be labeled obsessive-compulsive if he ever talked to Nala Se about it. He knows it would probably qualify him for "retirement." He understands it's not the norm for most of his brothers, and he's actually very grateful they don't have to experience the nagging intrusive thoughts he seems to battle with often. He checks on his brothers when the sudden creeping feeling that one of them might be hurt arises, he routinely asks about the condition of The Chancellor's wellbeing if he happens to be further from him than usual, and he craves symmetry and order almost to a haunting degree. He once spent an hour staring at his own bucket to make sure the red strokes of paint were just right.
It's safe to say this man cannot stand a lack of control. This piggybacks off the prev point; it drives him up the wall not knowing what is going on at all times. He asks for check-ins from his men every quarter hour, works longer hours than even a Kaminoan would recommend, and has no idea what to do when he's given time off. He doesn't know what it means to unwind. His muscles are constantly wound tight like a snake prepared to strike, and he often grinds his teeth without thinking. The headaches he gets would be unbearable if it weren't for his medics dutifully looking out for the commander.
He secretly feels anxious when he hears whispers from Senators, Jedi, or his brothers about the work some politicians are doing to set up a plan for the Clones after the war. He doesn't know what else he is other than a soldier. He's too high-strung to go off and be a gardener or a tattoo artist like he's heard some brothers talk about. One day Stone makes a quip that he'd be a good zoologist, and he admittedly finds himself daydreaming about working with nonjudgmental animals instead of people who did nothing other than cast judgment. Coruscant certainly wouldn't work for that, which drives another unpleasant nail of fear into his heart. He'll have to work through plenty of knots surrounding his attachments if he is to ever let himself leave. For now, he's satisfied to dream about it when he gets a quiet moment in his bunk.
For all the Clones, their bunk is practically the only private space they have. Fox's quarters, though some might expect them to be ship-shape and spotless, is decorated in a way that can only be described as his. Weapon leaflets are kept on a board near the door, just above a small desk cluttered with a mixture of endless paperwork and small seedlings given to him by Senator Chuchi after he'd escorted her on a particularly daring mission. She claimed they'd grow into vitamin-rich leafy greens he could ingest. His armor is always kept neatly if it isn't on him, prepared to be worn at a moment's notice. His bed, of course, is the safest, most private spot in his quarters. Some would describe it as a mess, and if he ever heard whispers of a routine check for contraband, he'd straighten out the sheets and ensure no wrinkles could be seen; he had no desire to be perceived as a slob. Most of the time, he prefers to have the blankets fluffed up around him; there's something so gratifying about being surrounded by softness and the comforting smells of himself and the people he treasures most. He has a favorite cloth he nuzzles close to when particularly stressed, which had been given to him by Alpha before he'd left for Coruscant. The scent is faded and weak, but what's left of it combined with the texture is enough to help him drift into unconsciousness.
