#e'li

[binart]

He has the power (to empty your wallet)

WAUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

🥺🥺🥺

OH!!!!! OHHHHH

HE IS SO CUTE WOW!!!! I AM MAKING THE SAME FACE AS G'RAHA RIGHT NOW OUGHHHHH THANK U FRIEND FOR DRAWING MY BOY!!!

oh... look at him.... i am setting this as my phone wall paper... i am gently brushing his bowl cut 🥹🥰🥰 my sweet boy...

[kappasquad]

The family arrive on Slaat’palon in 15 BBY and soon settle in. E’li gradually takes to the Mandalorian culture enjoyed by his family of commandos  - although Varik refuses firmly to let former training Sergeant Walon Vau attempt to make apologies for how he trained them in their youth. The only peace making Vau manages is to gift the infant strill, Vevi, to blinded RC, Rami. The strill goes on to become Rami’s seeing-eye companion.

This drawing was commissioned from @lorna-ka

[kappasquad]

Order 66 - snippet

He could only see the scars – etchings that reminded him of every wound that the clone had gained while fulfilling his duty in the past three years, and many that he had acquired long before the war even started. Many were hidden by tattoos, not because of any squeamishness on Graves’ part, but simply because Misfit found it hard to look upon so many reminders of near death experiences. He covered many with artwork – most deliberately masked where the ribbons of scarring on his throat. That had occurred disturbingly close to the start of the war; mere weeks in to his service.

E’li had been sure that he was going to lose his first ARC trooper at that point, yet somehow the medics had performed magic and saved Graves’ life. The only difference had been his loss of vocal projection, and the permanent gravelling of his tone. It could so easily have been death. And worst of all, death at the hands of a fekkin’ civvie. Some chancer terrorist who took the chance to jump the Alpha trooper when he was helping a young man who’d collapsed. Coincidentally, the young man who had seemed on death’s door, had mysteriously disappeared while E’li frantically administered first aid while gawkers watched on, always ready to stare at a spectacle. Not only had Graves’ life been on the line, but E’li had felt like he’d let Misfit down. The other Alpha had been patrolling a mere klick away in the dark underbelly of Coruscant when the attack occurred. E’li felt he should have sensed the intention of the man, or the deceit…anything…he should have been able to pre-empt the attack.

Then there was the jagged white twist of scar tissue that curved around below Graves’ ribs – another near fatal incident. This time it was a shrapnel wound and E’li hadn’t been with them to feel guilty. It didn’t stop him affectively going AWOL to fly out and be by Misfit’s side while his brother was put back together on the surgeons table.

His master had always labelled the clones as sub-human and disposable. E’li hadn’t agreed with that right from day one and every single day since then had served to further convince him of his master’s flaws, both in regards to the clones, and subsequently in many other areas of her life. She may be a Jedi Master, but she was sub-human in her attitudes. He distanced himself more and more every day, gradually pulling away from her and closer to the clones. He was young, ignorant and spent a lot of time feeling foolish, but Graves had guided him through the mine-field of military command. Graves should have the rank of General considering the work he did to help E’li get it right. Without him, this wouldn’t have been possible. He’d have lived under her shadow, fighting to keep his sense of decency in the face of her polluting attitude.

He could feel it, like an emptiness. Not negative – despite the event, he still felt the lightness in his chest, competing with the depressive darkness flooding him in the Force.

“She’s gone.” He blinked, watching Graves’ patterned, tanned skin blurring before coming back in to focus. He didn’t need to say more; Graves understood.

It felt like flowers blooming in the desert…so unexpected, yet beautiful. His mind felt freer than it ever had before. He had been set free.

[kappasquad]

Sample of Order 66

There was still time for one observation though.

“Misfit would be drooling if he saw you like this.” It was true. The green, sleeveless tunic flattered the Alpha’s muscles and skin tone. The hasty change of clothes had tugged some of his hair loose from the top knot and strands were dangling free to brush his shoulder.

Graves smiled a tense smile and pulled the hairband free so that he could twist the thin Mohawk section of hair back in to position and secure it. The last thing he needed was his hair coming free and getting in his face. He wore it all buzzed short apart from the section on top which had stood up as an untidy, spiky Mohawk in his youth but he had let it keep on growing and now it brushed his shoulders when let loose. Only Misfit saw it down like that – or possible another clone if they happened to be in the showers at the same time – but generally he kept it tied up in a twist or a bun.

He couldn’t put his helmet on how, and it wouldn’t fit E’li, so he did a very quick mashed job of wiping his own data from the memory; hoping that nobody would recognise the grey and black pattern that belonged to him. Many clones used those colourings…fair enough, not other Alphas apart from Misfit, but a random person wouldn’t be able to tell an ARC helmet from a standard helmet, and by the time anyone did, they’d be long gone.

He gave it one last look, then shoved it in to the corner as far out of sight as possible.

It was now or never.

“Ready?” He looked to E’li for confirmation, support, solitude…anything that would give him the confidence they needed to have.

E’li swallowed and met the Alpha’s eyes. “Ready.”