Ok so I may have gone a little ham on the Chibi clones. I am really happy with how they all came out though. if you wanna see my 502st little guys Its my previous post. This was a ton of fun and was a lot less stressful that working on a full illustration so that's cool :) anyways enjoy my little guys.
Star Wars characters as things I've overheard people say/my friends have said part 4
Some Jedi, giving clones a tour of the temple: And while I cannot condone any spitting during this tour, well I also can't stop u. So I'm going to turn around now, and if you'd like to spit-
Echo: Whos a witch?
Omega: Me!
Thire: I DONT WANNA DATE A FASCIST DICTATOR
Echo, on the phone to Rex: We're lonely without u. I spent ur money
Jesse: Hey quick question, what are u? I meant it in a gay way
Thire: *Sing songing* I'm stealing a senators contact information
Cadet Fox, completely deadpan and unprompted: I think we should start throwing knives at each other for fun
Rex, introducing Dogma and Tup: Pls don't kick the babies
Hardcase: I didn't know there was a pumpkin!!
Jesse: May I partake in this experience?
Hardcase: I didn't know there was a pumpkin involved!!
Clone cadet: What's a girl?
Ashoka, to Anakin: Youre like if a slinky was a person
Fives: ~i wanna meet you in the middle~ malcom- or, Sheldon in the middle or whatever his name is
Cadet Fox: I'm looming
17: ..why
Fox: Idk. Is it working?
17: ...
Fox: Do u feel loomed upon?
17: .....yes.
Fox's medic, upon bringing him back to life again: I revoke ur privilege of death
Fox, to Cody: So what I'm getting from this is u and I need to steal from the Pope
Wolffe: No yeah you could freeze and eat it
Ponds:...how are we not on a watch list
*Tormenting Rex*
Fives: B r o t h e r, can I get in the water
Echo: B r o t h e r, can I dro o w wn brother
Cadet Kix: Even when I'm stupid I'm still correct. That's how intelligent I am
Fives: Ok so I'm not gay at all but guys are hot girls are hot *sips mountain due*
Kix: Why is it formated like this?
Jesse: Idk, why do the birds have W rizz
Tup: please don't have a heart attack while trying to eat a calculator
Ashoka: I feel so tall
Fives: Ashoka stop making things up
Bly: Our goal is no language after 9 o'clock
Wolffe: Wait what time is it
Ponds: Not 9 o'clock
Wolffe: *Quietly, but with much conviction* fuck
Quinlan, to Fox: ...you are very quick at typing threats
Someone (idk who) to cadet Hunter: You're not allowed to have a plastic shank on school property
Thorn: All babies grow up to be coke dealers
Young Obi-Wan: Is my hair all fucked up? I mean it always is cos I'm ginger but-
Anakin, reading ancient text in a temple: U have awakened the ancient one
Jesse: Ok gong head
Trainer: They just find a really steep cliff and jump-
Day 6: Self-inflicted injury, Rocky recovery, "If I tell you what they made me do, you won't be able to look at me the same."
Shout out to @ailesswhumptober for hosting this.
divider by @strangergraphics
Words: 1,343
Characters: Fox, Thire, Mentions of Fives, Rex, Jesse, Kix
Tags/Warnings: Whumping Fox, death mention, sad?, idk what else to mention here, murder.
Summary: Fox doesn't think about about what he’s done, what he’s doing very often. If he did, rations wouldn’t stay down and then he’d be wasting even more resources than if he did thinking about what he’d done. One night of mourning had been all that was needed (provided). Anymore wasn’t necessary (would get him decommissioned).
A/N: I had a brain thought of what if fox got approached after killing fives by covert ops (which are the people who hunt down clones that desert and other stuff) and this happened so no i don't apologize.
“Sir, the boys and I were wondering if you were finally free to get drinks.”
Fox looked up from the report that he had been staring at for the last ten minutes to find that Commander Thire was standing in his now-open doorway. His armor looked clean, the red freshly repainted. He tried not to think about his own armor back in his quarters, scattered all around the floor in his haste to get it off, with the only bright fresh red being what was dripping from it. Something must have shown on his face, because his brother was stepping inside of his office, the door sliding shut behind him as he pulled his bucket off.
“Fox?”
It’s quiet. Too soft. Too kind.
“At ease, soldier.” Drawing the boundary, keeping his brothers far away from the hole he found himself in. That he had put himself into. Thire’s deepening frown had him looking for the nearest excuse as he placed down the datapad, something that wasn’t a lie for once. “More reports came in from the lower levels.”
Thire moved his bucket under his right arm as he leaned back against the door frame with a little more than just annoyance on his face. “You can’t be serious. They expect us to go patrolling down there?”
It’s just the lack of sleep Fox finds himself having to chant in his head as he bit down hard on his tongue. An assortment of things fight to come out, the urge to snap of his brother growing with every passing second, statement, remark. Couldn’t they just do their jobs? Like he was?
But Thire was just doing his job. The lower levels weren’t something the Coruscant Guard normally subjected themselves to. Rather, no one did for that matter. Lawless, lightless, violent. His eyes dropped down back down to the report, easily finding the glaring command on it even as he felt Thire’s inquisitive eyes on him.
Objective: Find and eliminate CT-6328. Last spotted on Level 657.
“No, but monitoring them is a part of our jobs,” Fox settled on.
Not a full answer in the least, deflecting rather than providing. And Thire, as always, noticed. He readjust his bucket as his eyes narrowed and Fox could see the man piecing it together. Debating. Evaluating. All of these things should have made him sweat, made him distressed. Afraid.
All he felt was a distinct sense of relief. Finally, someone would break through the glass wall he had constructed between him and his men. The one that had been hastily put together with broken, fragile pieces, under the pressure of all of the Guard, his brothers, his life. Someone else would finally figure out what he had been doing what he had been up and it would finally, finally, all end.
Clone Commander Thire, though, was one of his best for a reason.
Instead of doing any of that, freeing him from the anxiety, the man stood up a little straighter and instead gave Fox a crooked reassuring smile that accomplished none of the comfort it had been clearly been aiming to provide. “That’s our overachieving head of the Guard. Honorable, a workaholic, and constantly doing too much. Have I mentioned workaholic?”
If I told you what they made me do, you wouldn’t be able to say those things with that smile.
He pulled his bucket back on, unaware of the turmoil inside of Fox. “Will let the boys know.”
With his brother’s back to him and the door hissing open, he let his shoulders slump. The brief taste of relief had been so sweet and he longed to feel that weightless again. Just for a second. Instead, he was carrying the burden alone again, one that was threatening to drown him in a sea of red.
“Oh, sir.” Fox looked back up to see Thire turned his head to face him, one foot out the door, but hesitant. “If you change your mind, we’ll be at 79’s.”
Not trusting his voice, Fox gave a small nod. And he could feel Thire’s blinding smile through the bucket.
If I told you what they made me do, you wouldn’t smile at me.
The door closed with a hiss and silence prevailed again as he was left alone. Fear led him to pick up the datapad again, despite it’s contents, but it was the disgust at himself that led him to keep reading. That drove him to keep going. To ignore the fear, to ignore his own thoughts.
If I told you what they made me do, you wouldn’t be able to look at me the same.
So Fox doesn’t think about about what he’s done, what he’s doing very often. If he did, rations wouldn’t stay down and then he’d be wasting even more resources than if he did thinking about was actually happening. One night of mourning had been all that was needed (provided). Anymore wasn’t necessary (would get him decommissioned).
There wasn’t anything else for him to do other than place one foot in front of the other on this path that he’d been started on. The one that had started with CT-5555.
Yet, a wave of disgust at his own cowardice rose up. No, not CT-5555. Fives.
In the safety of his office, the one where he could barely hear the drills being ran down in the courtyard, the officers marching down through the nearby hallways, he let himself remember. Forced himself to remember.
The way that Rex had looked at him in that moment. The anger, frustration, grief that had been on such blatant display that had him feeling like an intrusive stranger. The way that Jesse and Kix had gone through the same rotation of expressions as their Commander as he explained to them what had happened down in the courtyard below. The struggle transparent on their faces before both settled on varying looks of grim acceptance that had him closing the blinds to his office before he could see what expressions they made next.
The way that none of it had been spoken out loud to him after everything that had happened even as the months passed. Clones died, the Republic moved on, and so did what was left of the GAR. But Fox hadn’t. He hadn’t moved away from the pity and sympathy he’d been shown when the other Commander had finally turned to Fox.
It hadn’t changed even as Fives’ body went past them, his men carrying it back to command. Hadn’t changed even as Rex noticed his hands shaking.
His blaster had still been warm, almost scalding with a non-existent heat, so with lack of anything else to hold, he had pulled off his helmet. And Rex had stood there right beside him, misty-eyed but understanding. Understanding. Gentle. Murmurings of the fact that it wasn’t his fault. That it was a hard, difficult thing to do and that Fives had been a threat at the end of it all. He’d gone crazy and had a blaster, had a commander and a Jedi trapped in a ray field. He had made the difficult call, the right call.
Except it had been his fault and it had been the easiest thing he’d ever done, but not the right thing. And that had been the beginning of the end.
His execution (because what else could he call it?) of his brother was quick to spread. The Corries had always stood by himself and continued to do so even in the wake of this news, but the other legions… The other legions began to peel themselves away, staying away from the Guard as much as they could. He wasn’t blind to that.
And then they had come. Covert Ops. Their official name for those who didn’t have high enough clearance to know what they were actually called. The Decommissioners for those who unfortunately knew just enough of the rumors to know that they were true. And he had been asked to carry out orders.
Simple, light work. Executions just as easy as Fives.
My favorite things about the angsty Coruscant Guard takes is that in everyone of them it features the clones being like, and these are our corrie brothers. They protect the senate and capital for us. I don't envy them, too much politics for my taste. We try not to give them too hard of a time for how easy their job is compared to ours :)
Meanwhile, Fox and the rest of his people are just kind of standing there visibly starving. Someone looks on the verge of tears and or collapsing. And they're probably all suffering from some kind of physical/psychological torture
