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mh073099 · 2 years

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“I’ll Find You” - Captain Rex x Reader Part 1

Lovers to Enemies to Lovers with some spy razzle dazzle AU~

Masterlist Prologue

Part 1 - Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You

Warnings: Time Jump: Manipulation: Violence: Death: a hint of Angst: Mothers are their own warning, but yes mommy issues. Have you seen Tangled? Age gap could also be a thing, but I am thinking Rex is in his mid 20s while our is now turned 18 and while there is sexual tension and some touches, this is just the beginning mfs, I am a fan of time jumps.

Washington D.C., US - 01/01/2067 06:30

It’s cold. So cold I can’t feel my nose and the air hurts my lungs.

Still, I keep running. I look down to see Ace at my side, happy to frolic in the snow and ice. At least one of us is happy. Laps around the Washington monument have become a morning routine the past year. At least I knew about moving to D.C. this time. Over the past three years, I have been dragged all over the world. Trained, tortured and honed into the weapon I was born to be. But I don’t dwell on the past. Learn the lesson and move on. Stop thinking about it.

I finish up my last lap and make my way over to the woman reading a newspaper on a bench. She looks unbothered by the cold in her black peacoat, and no nonsense look on her face. As if the cold knew better then to bother her.

I sit down next to her, and she passes me a coffee.

“Good morning mother.” I say, taking sips of the bitter deliciousness.

She hums in response. We sit in silence for a moment. Ace’s head on my lap looking unbothered by our morning run. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, enjoying the silence.

“I need to make my dinner reservations before it’s too late,” my mother states.

Here we go.

“Do you know what time you’ll be having dinner?” I ask.

“I’m thinking about 07:30 tonight.” She sniffs into the cold. “I’m bringing Mark.”

“A Special friend?” I can’t help the cheek in my voice,

“A very special friend.” Mother Smirks into her coffee.

“Where will you and this special friend be dining tonight?” I look over at her.

She’s so regal. Poised. Dressed in all black, hair in a slick ponytail. Her Gray eyes are sharp, but the lines around them are soft. The faintest hint of a smile on her face is soft too. She looks over at me, and I feel 15 again. I want to trust her.

Don’t be fooled, I hear her voice in my head.

“Vermillion. I’m craving a steak.”

“And for dessert?”

She looks away before answering. “I don’t think I will have time for dessert.”

Red Flag. No Dessert means no extraction. I’ll have to get away on my own. This isn’t something I’ve done before. There is always an exit strategy.

“Grown-ups don’t always have time for dessert,” is left in the air. So many words between us are left in the air. They suffocate me.

“Dessert is overrated anyway,” I chuckle. Best not to dwell on things that will not change.

“But before I go to dinner, I need to go to the dry cleaners. Pick up 2 orders I’ve placed.”

She means I need to head to the armorer and pick up new gear. New Gear? No Extraction teams? What’s going on?

“How’s your arm?” She asks, ending the former conversation that has my focus. Instructions were clear. The execution of said instructions are also clear.

“It’s Fine. Little stiff from the cold,” I reply rolling my shoulder. The twinge reminds me of my 18th ‘birthday gift’.

“Next time, maybe you won’t be so clumsy,” she says as she gets up.

Right. Clumsy. That’s what that was.

“I hope you enjoy dinner!” I call out to the women, picking up the newspaper she let on the bench.

“So do I!” She calls back without looking.

She never looks back.

Washington D.C. – 01/01/2067 19:56

The bar is loud. Pulsing to a beat I don’t care about, with bodies bumping and humping everywhere. The air is sticky with the sugary sent of alcohol and the floor wet with substances I have no interest in discovering.

Perfect.

I move deeper into the bar, losing the long coat, throwing it across a passing chair. I let my hair down and move to the dance floor. I let myself get lost in the bodies, disappear into the heat of the animals I have now become apart of. Swaying and twirling, my hips moving this way and that. The adrenaline pumping through my veins puts a thin veil of sweat over my skin. To any on looker, I’m just a girl cutting loose. And I am, I take a brief second to enjoy myself.

But only for a second. As I move my hips to the deep base line, I twirl and keep watch of my exits. Looking for whoever might follow. I left the scene clean. There were no hiccups, dinner went as planned. But it was always better to stay vigilant. Always assume the worst.

To blend in, you must believe the story you are selling, yourself. So I do just that. I let it all go. And I dance.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 09:00

I make my way back to my apartment, thinking of my instructions while Ace walks paces in front of me.

‘I need to make dinner reservations before it’s too late.’ – She means I have a new mark with a quick deadline. Planning will be minimal, and location may not be private. Which means possible interference.

‘I’m thinking 07:30’ - obviously, meet the mark at 07:30. The sniff was her sign that this had a small window of opportunity. Less that 10 minutes.

Vermillion was the closest restaurant to the target. That’s where I need to be near before receiving exact coordinates to my mark.

‘Craving steak’ - this meant mark wouldn’t make it out of this dinner alive.

This would be my 5th time killing for the cause. Sleep isn’t as easy as it used to be. This is what I was trained to do. Mother would not accept failure. My shoulder twinged in reminder of the last time I failed. When your own mother shoots you, because you fail to kill someone things are put into perspective fairly quickly. It was a reminder that I do not live in a perfect world that the republic would like us to believe.

I’m luckier than some. Mother shooting me was a lesson I had to learn, right?

Wrong.

It could be worse.

It could be him.

I resolve myself from my thoughts.

Only through victory are my chains broken. Then I shall be free.

I am breaking chains. That’s all this is.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 21:02

For a little over an hour, I danced by myself and who ever I was around. It wasn’t until I was craving water and heading to the bar that I realized I could feel eyes on me. I looked and my eyes met his.

Handsome was my first thought.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 14:22

After getting to my apartment, I started my prep. My go bag was secured, and Ace was made ready if I needed a quick escape and he had to meet me somewhere. When we made our move to D.C. permanent, I trained him to meet at the monument if he hears a bell, I can play by pressing a button on my cell. Smartest dog I have ever met that one. After showering, cleaning and prepping, I looked around.

I always felt detached when dinner plans were made. I still haven’t gotten used to living alone. The only thing that makes this place home is Ace.

Not wanting to linger, I made my way to the dry cleaners of Elm and Main. A front for a private armory for the cause. Supplied by smugglers and ran by the ugliest women I have ever met. Talzin was mean and cold. But she could fix anything and supply you with everything. It was like magic. Dark magic, really.

Walking in, a young bald woman behind the counter looks up at me with a blank face.

“I have a pickup for 2 orders.” I say nonchalant, picking up a sweet from the bowl on the dusty counter.

“Name?” the woman’s voice is raspy, like she’s smoked 5 packs a day and didn’t know how to quit.

“I hardly think that’s necessary. I frequent this establishment often enough. I’d like to speak with management please.” I huff. My face is straight, by my eyes scream try me.

Her brow narrows. “One moment please,” and she disappears into the back.

I hear the door lock behind me, ultra-aware of the fact that there’s now a man in front of the door. A rather large man in fact. His imposing figure doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. His nickname Savage was earned, my mother had told me. I didn’t ask for details on how. Thankfully, she never gave them. Just one of those things you get used to, I guess.

“Let her through Ventress,” I hear faintly from the back. Then the bald woman with dead eyes appears again, through the currents that lead into the back.

“You may-“She starts, but I was already moving past her, and into a hallway. I reach the end that leads to stairs down into a basement where the voice came from. I keep going until I reach the bottom and come out into the open room. It looks like speak easy, with Dark Maroon walls, and emerald, green flooring. But instead of a bar of alcohol lining the walls, its artillery. Firearms of many shapes and sizes: grenades, blades, rockets and mortars. On the other side of the room, It looks like a tailer. Suits and dresses, made of bulletproof fabric. Shoes with false bottoms and necklaces that record everything. Ignoring the setting, it’s all pretty cool one has to admit.

“Your orders are there on the shelf girl.” Talzin rasps from a desk behind the glass firearm bar. “You have an outfit, two standard Government Issue Glock .19s, a poisoned blade, a dress and a coat with a built-in vest. Invisible to the naked eye. All more than what asset like you deserves.”

“How do you know the dress will fit.” I snark back as I reach for the bags on the counter closest to me.

“It always fits.” She glares at me. Even from afar and sitting down it feels like she is looking down at me. “You also a little something extra in there.”

“For me? Talzin, you shouldn’t have.”

“I didn’t.”

“You’re too sweet. Have a wonderful day you old goat.”

“I hope you die, menace.”

I didn’t linger there either. With a nod out to savage on my way out the door, I head home to get ready.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 21:03

Leaning against the counter further down the bar, He stared at me. I watched his eyes rake over me and watched him watch me do the same. He was tall. Thick thighs covered by black slacks. Strong shoulders and a chest covered by a white button up just trying to hang on for dear life. Clean jaw line, full lips. Dirty blonde curls, and the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen.

I pushed the thought away but held my ground and looked him in the eye. Men were easy. Act sweeter than honey, and they land on that flower quick like a bee. I put on the mask of innocent trouble, winked and turned away. I ordered some water, and while waiting to be served, I felt a presence at my back. The warmth sent chills through my body.

“Only one reason a girl dances like that,” is whispered in my ear, the low voice rumbles from his chest. I feel like the bee.

I turn and look up through my lashes. He looks down at me with a small smirk on his lips.

Oh, how I would love to wipe that smirk off those lips.

“And what reason is that?” comes out much softer and more breathless than I meant it to.

“You’re losing yourself, to run away from something,” He lowers his chin to look me more in the eye.

“What are you, a shrink” I deadpan with a raised eyebrow, and make a face.

His laughter flows from him like oozing lava. “You’re too young to be dancing like that. You have all the opportunities in the world open for you.”

If only you knew.

“Compared to what, old man?” I challenge with a smirk and turn to reach for my water. My comment earns me another chuckle. I relish the sound as I sip from the tiny black straw.

“Ouch. I’m not that old, just old enough.”

“Old enough to be a prude it sounds like.” I stir my straw.

“Never been described as a prude before.”

“Shocking.”

“What’s your name, princess?”

Looking up at his question, I realize he’s gotten incredibly close. Practically caged in at the bar. All my instincts scream at me to get out of this conversation and get the upper hand. The secret voice in my head tells me I don’t want to be anywhere else.

“You think you’ve earned my name?” I cock my head at him.

“I asked nicely, didn’t I?” he cocks his head opposite of me. He’s enjoying this. The smile, the fire in his eyes. He almost looks ready to devour me.

He’s toying with you.

“I didn’t hear a please in there, old man,” earns me another chuckle.

“How about this, we exchange information. That way we both are gaining something from it. I will give you my name, if you’ll give me yours.”

“I don’t know, I kind of liked how princess rolled off your tongue.”

“I’m sure you did.”

Neither of us step down from this stalemate. Our Eyes are locked, and the rest of the bar just falls away for a moment. Dangerous in my unchosen profession. And yet, I could die happy with that warmth staring back at me if that’s what were to happen.

He breaks the tension by stepping back and offers his hand. “I’m Rex.”

“Princess,” I wink while taking his hand. My cheekiness earns me another chuckle. My toes curl at the low sound.

“Ok princess. Would you like to dance?” He asks with a bright smile.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 19:10

Wearing a black cocktail dress and heels that were provided under the Bulletproof jacket, I sat on a bench outside some steak restraint, and listened to the soft snow fall, with my face up towards the sky.

The calm before the storm.

PING.

I looked down at my phone. One new Notification.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 21:40

Dancing with him felt like playing with fire.

“Rex” softly leaving my lips as he trailed kisses across my shoulder felt like a prayer.

“Princess” being whispered into my ears felt like God decided to answer.

My head said it was time to leave. Forget the man with eyes made of honey, and leave.

My Heart said stay, and so did his hands. He gripped my hips just so and oh-

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 19:28

I made my way into the Hotel, retrieving a room key from a pot plant in the corner of a hallway on the second floor.

I made my way to the 6th floor.

Room 612.

I knock.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 21:59

We’ve been dancing so long that my feet start to hurt. I don’t want to stop. His arms around me make me feel safe. The grip of his fingers on my hips, moving them against his to the beat. He’s spun me and twirled me and let his fingers trail across my shoulders and arms, down my sides and just barely over my thighs more times than I can count. I let my hands wander just as much. His chest is broad and firm, solid and sturdy. His hands dwarf mine and consume them. His thighs are large, and oh so delicious. I must keep my thoughts on what I would do on those thighs at bay, lest I get more than I bargained for.

This is for appearances. An alibi. I’m trying to lie to myself that I’m not actually enjoying his warm body moving against mine. When did everything I do, start becoming I lie I have to tell myself?

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 19:29

Mark answers the door. He’s expecting a high-end escort and thinks nothing of the glint in my eye.

At least I do look expensive.

The door closes behind us.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 22:01

His lips ghost the shell of my ear and I get goosebumps. I want to feel those lips outside of ghost stories that haunt the edges of my existence.

“Let’s get you something to drink, princess,” he purrs, and grabs my hand. I am helpless and follow.

It’s time for me to go. Stay. I have to be up early. Don’t go. “Another water?” he turns to me as we arrive at the crowded bar.

“Yes please.” I reply. Then think for a second. “How did you know it was water?”

“Princess, you barely look old enough to be in here, let alone drink.” His smile is soft.

“Why are you wasting your time with a child then, hmm?” I challenge with a dip in my brow.

His smile softens, if that were even possible. “You don’t seem like you’ve been a child for a very long time now.” If only I could count how many times I have gotten lost in his eyes tonight. “And I’m not that old.” He adds with a huff.

A giggle escapes me before I can stop it. “How old are you?”

“24. And you?”

“18.” I said squarely. His eyebrows rise.

“Wow, you are young.” He says, his eyes harden a tad bit and I am suddenly filled with insecurity I am not used to.

“And?” comes out my mouth, low and irritated.

“And? And nothing. You’re legal. And besides, we’re just friends.” He pokes the bear. His smirk irritates me more by the second. All that I was feeling has been channeled into annoyance. I can work with this. This can give me the upper hand.

“Oh? Friends, are we?” I challenge back.

“Oh, I hope so.”

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 19:30

He asks my name, and I give him a fake. Mark pretends it’s real and gives me his real name. I don’t care though. He’s still going to be Mark to me. Another Lie I have to tell myself.

He turns his back heading to the bar cart.

Sorry Mark.

Walking away almost felt too easy.

Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 22:03

We stand there, leaning against the bar, just drinking each other in. Drinks on the counter forgot.

Friends get hurt. I know. Fuck being friends. I know. Can’t even give him my real name. I know. I could drown in those eyes. I know.

Love at first sight? It doesn’t exist.

At that, I hear myself say “Well Rex, It’s past this princess’s bedtime. See you around?”

With a raised eyebrow and a soft smile, he looks down at me. I detect disappointment and relief simultaneously as his shoulders relax but his jaw clenches. “Ok princess,” is more soothing than it should be. He grabs my hand, and brings it to his lips.

“How can I find you again?” comes out of my mouth before I can even stop it.

He chuckles, low and deep, more of a rumble than a chuckle, his fingers softly rubbing against my knuckles as he lowers my hand, still in his.

“You won’t.” And with that, he lets go, turns and walks away.

And I? I am left reeling from whatever the fuck just happened. A thousand emotions are running through me and i-

PING.

I look at my phone.

One New Text Message from: Mother

Need to talk. Now.

Oh. I knew it was too easy.

-----

-M.F.

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enigmatist17 · 1 year

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The Past

Touch starved clones hc for the win

No, not romantically, just making that clear

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He never screams when the nightmares come.

Clone Force 99 doesn't really notice at first, usually returning to Kamino after every mission. Asides from having someone always on watch, more out of habit than anything else, sleeping habits went unnoticed.

Living on a ship, where you can’t really hide, that’s a different story.

He’s able to hide it at first, taking quick cat naps as they run around trying to understand what has happened to the Republic and the brothers they once could trust turned adversaries. He had to sleep eventually, and while doing their first job for Cid, it happened.

Tech had been piloting, and Echo had been told to rest so he could help them once they arrived. At first it was just the void, but then, it began. The Citadel, the way he never reached the transport before the world went dark, the lines of code imprinted on his eyelids and muted voices as he was mutilated, seeing the horror and anger in Rex’s eyes when he saves him, it cycles over and over until his mind snaps.

He doesn’t scream, instead his limbs lock to his side, the man lying as straight as a rod as he stares at the bunk above him. Brown eyes began to flick back and forth, reading code that was no longer there, yet his mind supplied that it had to be.

He doesn’t see when Omega runs past him, only to back up and wave her hand over his eyes. He doesn’t hear her calling out to Hunter, clearly frightened at the fact he was unresponsive to her calling his name. He doesn’t feel when Hunter takes hold of his remaining arm, exerting some strength to lift it up from the bed to get a pulse.

Reality seemed to hit him the moment his hand was placed back down, and Echo jerked up into a sitting position, ramming his head into Hunter’s. Hunter lets out a curse as Echo scrambles back, looking around and taking in the room with a shudder.

No pod, no wires, no computer, no Techno Union with blades.

“Echo?” The voice, the young voice that sounded so scared, Echo sharply jerked his head, meeting Omega’s gaze. She had her hands up, clearly wanting to touch him, but holding back when Hunter held up two fingers as a sign to not move.

“Omega. Hunter. Marauder. Hyperspace.” He could see this, he could feel this, he could speak of it.

“That’s it.” Hunter slowly moved to sit on the bunk, and Echo didn’t move this time. Omega glanced over at Hunter before taking a step, then another when Echo just watched her with weary eyes. She’s soon holding the base of his mechanical arm, the scomp port usually taken off when he rested, and hugs it to her chest.

“I thought you were dead.” Omega isn’t sure why she’s whispering, and feels the way Echo slumps back against the wall.

“I’m fine…it’s just a nightmare.” He pats his lap with his other arm, and Omega hesitantly lets go to clamber up into his hold. He enveloped her in a hug the second she settled down, whispering something in Mando’a she didn't understand, and looked over at Hunter.

“He’s grounding himself, saying that he is here in the moment.” He translates, reaching out to place a hand on Echo’s leg.

Omega had seen that clones liked to be affectionate to one another, always hugging, clasping arms, bumping against each other’s chests, sitting against each other, and hadn’t understood it for a long time. When she started to sneak out, she overheard conversations that the brothers all shared amongst each other, and eventually realized it was their way of retaining a feeling of humanity. They all knew they were just weapons, things to be discarded like broken toys when they died, so every act of sharing celebrations to loss had a physical touch to it all.

They would never understand a loving touch like normal people would, so in a way this was their way of doing the same thing.

Echo seemed to relax as he held her, and Omega closed her eyes as she focused on his heartbeat. When she opened them again, Hunter was gone, and the ship seemed to have landed at their destination. Slowly but surely Omega looked up, and was surprised to see Echo fast asleep, arms still wrapped around her securely as if warding off the world around them. Yawning, Omega just snuggled up back against his brother, and right before she drifted off again, she could feel Echo giving her a soft squeeze.

#tbb #tbb season 1-ish #tbb echo #tbb hunter #tbb omega #cw echo #arc tropper echo #I love him so much it hurts

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politirapporten · 1 year

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AARHUS: For første gang nogensinde vil Aarhus Havn i næste uge blive anvendt af det amerikanske militær i forbindelse med ankomsten af et skib med militært materiel ombord. Østjyllands Politi er opmærksomme på en mulig øget trængsel på havnen samt synligt amerikansk militær i og omkring Aarhus C. I næste uge ankommer ca. 600 stk. amerikansk militært materiel og køretøjer til Aarhus Havn med det civile fragtskib ARC Independence. Det sker, når byen for første gang nogensinde lægger havn til værtsnationsstøtte til USA – også kaldet Host Nation Support. Det amerikanske materiel skal efterfølgende fragtes videre til Østeuropa på landjorden på grund af en planlagt rotation af amerikanske tropper. Østjyllands Politi forventer i den forbindelse, at der muligvis kan opstå en øget trængsel på Aarhus Havn i de dage, hvor skibet skal losses og materiellet køres videre ud i Europa. ”Vi har en formodning om, at der muligvis kan opstå kortvarige trafikale trængsler på havnen, når det militære materiel skal fragtes videre i Europa. Havnen er dog i forvejen godt gearet til at håndtere den daglige trafik, så vi tror ikke, der bliver nogle større udfordringer – men vi følger situationen nøje,” siger politidirektør i Østjyllands Politi Kirsten Dyrman. Østjyllands Politi har en forventning om, at havnen vil blive belastet med op mod 50 ekstra lastbiler i døgnet i forbindelse med opgaven.Midlertidigt militært område og amerikanske soldater i Aarhus I forbindelse med fragtskibets ankomst til Aarhus bliver der oprettet et midlertidigt militært område – også kaldet et MMO – på et mindre område af Omniterminalen på Aarhus Havn. Der er i forvejen ikke adgang for offentligheden på terminalen, så Østjyllands Politi har ingen formodning om, at borgerne bliver påvirket af det midlertidige militære område. ”Vi regner ikke med, at operationen kommer til at påvirke østjydernes hverdag, men vi har en forventning om, at borgerne muligvis kan støde på amerikanske soldater i området omkring Aarhus Havn og Aarhus midtby,” siger politidirektør Kirsten Dyrman og tilføjer, at hun håber, amerikanerne vil føle sig godt taget i mod, når de færdes i byen. Det midlertidige militære område på Aarhus Havn vil være gældende fra i løbet af fredag formiddag den 13. januar 2023 og frem til den 12. februar 2023. Der vil være tydelig skiltning i det område, hvor MMO’et er gældende. Opgaven på Aarhus Havn er gennemført af Forsvaret, og foruden Østjyllands Politi deltager også Hjemmeværnet og en række øvrige civile aktører og relevante myndigheder. Læs mere om Host Nation Support på Forsvarets hjemmeside her. Fakta: Den danske værtsnationsstøtte består i at støtte en planlagt rotation af amerikanske enheder til Operation Atlantic Resolve – USA’s styrkede tilstedeværelse i Europa. Atlantic Resolve har i en årrække haft til formål at demonstrere US evne og vilje til at forstærke NATO og alliancepartnere i Østeuropa med kampstyrker. USA har tidligere sendt materiel gennem Danmark i forbindelse med øvelsesaktivitet i Europa og senest i Esbjerg, hvor 44 amerikanske militærhelikoptere anløb med skib i august 2022. Kilde: Forsvarskommandoen

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greensparty · 2 years

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May the 4th Be With You

Today is Star Wars Day and here’s a look back at me and a Sith Tropper at the Arc Light Cinema Boston (RIP) in December 2019 when I saw Star Wars IX - The Rise of Skywalker!

#may the 4th be with you #star wars #star wars day #film geek #star wars episode 9 the rise of skywalker

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suck-a-egg · 2 years

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Rex: Fives! For the love of god, please turn down that music. I have a hangover.

Fives: *blasting the mii theme at full volume* That sounds like a you problem, not a mii problem.

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as-i-watch · 2 years

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Kyros saw everyone confused over some toy and took the opportunity to bolt. Nevermind the toy was him, he can deal with that later

#what a tropper #one piece #one piece kyros #dressrosa arc

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fiveshelmet · 2 years

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I see that some people like to hc that Echo likes to bake... and I'm one of those people. I can see him getting his ingredients ready. Measuring teaspoons and weighing the ingredients(bc weighing food is more accurate than in cups sorry to disappoint yall). Also wearing an apron with a bit of a mess, but hey thats part of baking. And as someone who is in the baking industry, Echo would be an excellent baker <3 Here is some moments Echo and I baked banana bread!

Here we have the batter in the pans, left side has chocolate chips, right side walnuts.

And here it is all baked up and warm! I've made some many banana breads, I have the recipe ingrave in my head lol.

ALSO, here's Echo checking out Luke, my sourdough starter. Echo says it looks good and just a couple of weeks, we can start making the bread :)

#echo #tbb echo #arc tropper echo #echo the bad batch #clone trooper echo #bad batch echo #star wars #the bad batch #star wars the clone wars #baking #bread #banana bread

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clone-wars-imagine-2 · 3 years

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Which D&D class the Clone Wars characters would take

A/N: In honours of the end to the second campaign of Critical Role I made this. My own opinion and you can’t change my mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Captain Rex:

either Fighter or Monk

this man will fight with his fists or swords

be it in rpg or real life

he gotta keep it real

Commander Cody:

this man spends all his time with Kenobi and his shit so…

Rogue, definitely a Rogue

Stealthily fucking Kenobi over while playing? For sure.

Commander Wolffe:

this is a simple man, Fighter

Barbarian isn’t out of the picture yet

look he doesn’t need the magic shit

he got his weapons

Five:

100% a warlock

thinks they are absolutely amazing

Excuse me, you get to conjure a demon at a higher level!

but so little spell slots

Echo:

Magic which is linked to studying? Sign him up.

one true Wizard right here everybody

explains how he casts his spells in detail

knows all the rules and end up as the DM one day

Hardcase:

never seen someone take Bard so fast

he will literally sing while playing

“It’s my class! I have to do it!”

totally fucks a dragon at one point

Kix:

You’d think he would take Cleric and he might

either death, war or trickery domain

this man won’t heal you if you were a bitch to him before the session

generally just chills and has a pretty good relationship with his god

Jesse:

surprisingly takes Druid

says it sounds interesting but only waits for the higher levels so he can fuck shit up

as soon as he can turn into elementals, he will

prepare to die

Hunter:

it is a 50/50 between Ranger and Rogue

it’s both very fitting for him and he might just multiclass in both

it might not look like it but he puts so much detail in his character

tease him about it and he sure as hell gonna dagger you in the back for fun in-game

Crosshair:

look this man will want to shoot in and out of game, let him be a Ranger

if not he will take Sorcerer which is surprising at first because he sure as hell doesn’t look like that type

he thinks it’s quite the interesting class

would never say that out loud tho

Tech:

Artificer for sure

A mix between engineering and magic in a balance that works?

he is all there for it

knows everything by heart after two sessions

Wrecker:

…do I really have to say this?

a true Barbarian if you ever see one

he can rage which gives him advantage on strength!

he won’t use a weapon for the entire campaign

Plo Koon:

this man thought for a while but settled on Monk

it fits with the person that he is and it has quite the advantages

won’t hold back on the pop pop

Obi Wan Kenobi:

seeing this coming from miles away

multi-classes in Cleric and Paladin

goes more into Paladin than Cleric thing but it’s still going strong

Qui Gon Jinn:

this poor poor man who had to deal with Kenobi for years

give him his Druid class already

enjoys it for all the amazing stuff it has

definitely takes the hermit background

leave him be

Ashoka:

takes either Barbarian or Warlock for sure

as soon as she hears of multi-classing she takes both

is a fierce warrior in and out of game and has way too much fun with this

Anakin:

it sounds ironic but he takes the Bloodhunter class

“embraces dark knowledge to destroy evil” it is fitting in some ways

definitely gets into it after a few sessions

so much cool stuff

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knightprincess · 3 years

Text

Clone Head Cannons

Figured I’d try this and see where it goes. (first attempted at it)

Echo loved to dance, although he’d never admit it.

Tech is the only one who knows Echo can dance. He recorded it

Hunter is secretly a big softy, hiding his own Lula doll on the Marauder

Fives has a talent for drawing

Wrecker would never admit it but he’s a mean competitor when it comes to karaoke

Crosshair has a soft spot for poetry

In his spare time Boba Fett collects droid heads and names them

Although brilliant on the battle field Captain Rex has a talent for tripping over everything

Kix can’t help but laughing when it comes to his brothers falling over.

Echo was a ruler breaker as a kid, always sneaking out of the barracks with Fives

Dogma secretly wanted to be a politician. To represent his brothers in the senate

Although Crosshair has a cold exterior, he secretly a romantic

Fives makes fail videos of his brothers.

Tech is the card game champion. Although even he doesn’t know how

When given the chance Hunter is a brilliant cook

Omega loves to hug. She has a t-shirt with I’m A Hugger, written on it, that Echo got for her

Tup always wanted to be a stand up comedian

Hardcase kept journals on his time on the battlefield. One for each year

Wolffe loved kids, even when he did act like they were an alien species

Gregor was writer. Keeping detailed accounts on the time between the wars.

Tech is actually the biggest flirt anyone has met

Rex’s favorite card game is Uno, but even he can’t beat Tech

Hunter wouldn’t admit it but he was proud Omega kick his ass

When it comes to romance. Wrecker is utterly clueless, as it can slap him in the face and he wouldn’t notice.

Crosshair wouldn’t admit it, but he has a lightsaber collection. He sometimes imagines he’s a Jedi.

Kix has the best bedside manners, always telling jokes and stories.

Jesse had dreams of being a theater actor.

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starlightpeaches · 4 years

Photo

Commander Cody |Star Wars: The Clone Wars | S7:E1 "The Bad Batch"

#star wars #the clone wars season 7 #the clone wars season 7 spoilers #Commander Cody #Captain Rex #Bad Batch #clone tropper kix #Arc tropper Jesse #Clone Wars

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enigmatist17 · 1 year

Text

Rising Anger

Part 5 of my Tech Lives series :)

Part 4 and be found here.

---------------------

Crosshair was beginning to get tired of this constant song and dance. Waking with a blinding headache, mouth full of cotton with limbs that felt like beskar, it was too much. However, he could not afford the luxury of resting to recover, his body screaming at him to get up and find Omega. Usually, she was by his side, big eyes full of worry as she’d hold his hand, and give a smile that looked too sad on her face.

This time she wasn’t, she sat in a corner and was trying very hard not to show her tears. A wave of fury washed over the older clone as he forced himself to sit up, and the grunt he made finally got Omega’s attention. Reddened eyes flicker up, and Crosshair feels the urge to murder someone.

Well, more so than he had lately.

“Are you hurt?” Omega shook her head, slowly letting go of her legs as she watched Crosshair wobble across the room. He’s a little bit steadier when he kneels down and places one hand on the wall, and the other on one of her knees.

“No…” Her voice is wavering as she reaches for his hand, squeezing as tight as she dared. It’s not too long before Crosshair sits next to her, and she scoots over to sit on his lap before he can even offer. She’s still trembling for a little while, and Crosshair waits patiently like he’s been trained to.

“Crosshair…do you know anything about Fives?” Ah, it’s not a question that he would have figured she would ask.

“I know some things.”

—---------------

Echo wasn’t like the other regs, outside of his physical appearance. From what the Batch has ever seen, they all seem to come together seamlessly, laughing and joking in the dining hall, roughhousing and constantly betting against each other in the barracks. Not that the Batch were ever excluded, many regs often encouraged them to join in with things, but they never felt like it was their lane to dip their toes into.

Echo was quiet, not the man they had seen when working with Rex. With Rex, he smiled, even if it was nothing but filled with pain, and joked weakly as he spoke with a confidence that should have been stripped away in that chamber. With them, he was quiet, sometimes joking with Wrecker, but ultimately was more soldier than he was a man. Eyes were always looking for the next threat, body strung as if he was standing on a live wire, scomp almost always plugged in as he listened to any and all chatter from the millions of brothers that fought for the Republic.

So, it’s not surprising that Crosshair was almost drawn to the man. The Marauder wasn’t a terribly big ship, everyone having to sleep in rotations now that there were 4 bunks for 5 men. Echo had offered to sleep on the floor, but Wrecker wouldn’t hear a single word of it, and all but threw the man onto his bed after arguing for a good twenty minutes the first night. Crosshair slept on the bunk across, and Echo didn’t sleep much as he felt those eyes just staring at him that first night. Slowly, it began to get easier as Echo realized that no, the staring wasn’t something to feel uncomfortable about.

It was curiosity, and Dogma, Fives, Hardcase, they all flash into his mind and no, he doesn’t have a crying fit in the ‘fresher when the realization hits him.

So, he waits when they’re alone. They’ve landed on some beach, and Echo has decided to stay on the ship while the others scouted the area for something they could cook up. Crosshair had also remained behind, eyes and upper face hidden by a mask. His eyesight, while being second to none, was easily overwhelmed by bright lights and colors, and led to migraines that could be debilitating if not treated.

Getting a flashbang to the face was definitely something that could overwhelm his eyes.

So now he’s sitting in the copilot’s seat, listening to Echo tinker away on the console, arms crossed over his chest.

“You can ask me anything.” Echo isn’t sure why he says anything, focused on some exposed wiring in front of him.

“What do I have to ask?” Crosshair replied, each and every word guarded in that raspy voice of his. Echo had never minded it, and remembers tearing some shinies a new one when he heard them whispering some rude things on Kamino, unaware Crosshair was listening in from around the corner.

“Whatever you’d like. You keep staring at me, and usually, I get stared at by kih’vod who are awed to see an ARC trooper. So, ask.” Crosshair huffs, and Echo is replacing the console board when he hears the other shuffle.

“Who is Rex to you, besides your captain?” Crosshair was trying to not sound like an ass, but he does regardless. He’s not expecting Echo to chuckle to himself, and a smile tugs at those pale lips.

“He is…well, he’s just about everything. A brother, the man who saved me and…the reason I joined the 501st, became an ARC trooper. Rex is…everything.”

Crosshair does not miss the slip-up.

Echo does not elaborate, not for a good month.

Fives, the name is next spoken between chattering teeth, cold seeping into Echo’s very bones. He’s on the floor, one hand fused with the grating on the floor of the ship, the other tucked against his chest as Echo trembled.

It’s so cold, so cold, he can’t move, they’ll come for him, where is Fives, he wants his vod .

The arms that pry Echo from the grating aren’t Fives’, the sharp cologne hanging around him as he’s forced to sit against a wall isn’t Fives’, the sharp eyes he’s forced to look up at aren’t Fives’. He wants his vod, he wants him so much it hurts, but here he is focusing on Crosshair’s fingers that are in front of his eyes. It feels like eons until his heart

“Focus and follow my fingers.” Echo does as he was ordered, his breathing slowly starting to slow down as he forces his brain to focus. Crosshair is patient with him, keeping Echo’s focus on him as the man pulls himself together.

“Thanks.” His voice is hoarse, and he wipes away some tears as Crosshair sits back on his heels. He’s still trembling from the cold only he can feel, but is able to look around and take in the fact he was safe. It helped that there was a highly trained sniper in front of him, and ever so slowly, the chills fade away to be replaced with the warmth around them. Crosshair seems satisfied by this, and gets to his feet, extending a hand after he thought for a moment, and Echo accepts it and is hoisted up to his feet without much effort.

“He was my twin.” Echo isn’t sure why he spoke, but the words just seemed to surge forward when Crosshair wordlessly began to retreat to his little corner of the ship. The sniper pauses, looking over his shoulder with the familiar slight sneer that Wrecker dubbed his “resting bitch face”, but Echo knows better. “He’s gone.”

“....” Crosshair just studied the older clone without a word, and Echo idly wonders what he was looking for. “I’m sorry.”

“Yea, me too. Thank you for this.” The sneer lifts for a moment, and Echo’s heart aches at the soft look of concern that shines before the mask comes back down.

“Nothing to thank me for.”

—-------------------

“He’s alive.” Omega whispers, hoping that Hemlock doesn’t somehow hear her and appears outside their cell, and curls closer to Crosshair.

“What?” The sniper frowns as he adjusts his hold, mind already racing with the news. “How do you know this?”

“I was in his cell. Crosshair, he’s been there for so long .” Omega wants nothing more than to force her way down to the dark cell so many floors below them, and closes her eyes with a wince. “I don’t think he believed me about Echo.”

“Not surprised.” He wouldn’t either, but now is not the time to say that out loud.

“Do you think we’ll ever get out of here?” The question is once again a whisper and the two lapse in silence for some time.

“Yes. Whatever they want from you, they won’t get it.” Crosshair moved one hand to rest it on the back of Omega’s head as if to protect her, eyes moving to glare at the security camera that was ever-present. Omega grips his shirt in response, listening to the steady beat of his heart as if it was her lifeline to reality. They don’t say anything else for the rest of the day, Omega sometimes tapping against his knee, which one could mistake for boredom or anxiety.

In reality, she’s telling her brother that her guards from before had made a mistake, the two furthering the slowly forming map of the base they were imprisoned inside. Little by little it was growing, and with each scrap of information, their plan to escape was crawling ever closer towards them.

—---------------

It’s not blue this time, not fully. Shapes are moving from beyond a veil, sometimes close before moving away.

No, not a veil. No, this is a tank.

The blue is bacta, it makes sense now.

Why is he in bacta?

It doesn’t matter, bacta means life, so he is alive. Good, one question answered.

The darkness comes again, but this time it is known as sleep.

He is alive.

—---------------------

Fives knew every square inch of his cell, from the bed to the ever-present ray shield, he knew it all. Had to, hard to walk around or do anything if you can’t memorize a place you can’t see right? Hemlock may have taken his sight, but Fives was bred as a soldier, and soldiers never quit no matter the circumstances.

It worked to his advantage that the cameras in his cell had been stripped long ago, since who needed to watch a blind man in the dark?

It was clear now he could be heard, which explains the faint buzzing near the door he always heard, and the information was filed away. The girl is gone, the little blonde girl with wide eyes full of pain and hope, the girl who finally gave Fives the hope to care, to live, to fight . The little girl who gave him his sight, even if for a few precious seconds.

The few seconds to show him that his cell had a weakness he would have never figured out on his own.

It was on the wall opposite his bed, worn metal warped just enough to show a junction box behind it. This room wasn’t supposed to be a cell, that much is clear now, but right now that didn’t matter as Fives goes for the warped metal. Hemlock wouldn’t miss a chance to gloat, so Fives waited for the elevator to rise before bolting for the wall. It rips off with a weak tug, and Fives makes sure the metal is out of sight from the door before thin fingers map out the box, making note of a small communications port at the bottom. The junction box, once opened after a moment of fumbling, has buttons for what felt like several rooms, and Fives has to bite back a cry of joy at the discovery. However, as much as it pains him, Fives has to pull back and close the box and reattach the metal before the next round of guards files through. While he may not have a plan yet, for the first time in so long, he finally has the conviction to do more than mope around.

He waits for their floor to become silent after the guard rotation, before pulling out a small piece of metal from inside his pillow and standing on his bed. The ceiling above him has exposed piping, and after craning his ear to make sure no guards were present, he begins to tap in a code known only to clones. It was something Cody of all people had come up with, a way to communicate without outsiders being able to butt in or complain of insubordination, taught behind the backs of Kaminoians and Jedi alike. He taps on the piping in the same beat for nearly ten minutes before there is a hesitant response a few cells down from his, and Fives smiles. One tap is followed by another a few moments later, and eventually, every single clone that had joined Fives from the beginning is tapping away, communicating with each other for the first time in so long.

Hemlock has no idea his idea of torture was in fact inspiring Fives, and it would be his mistake.

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