#the clone kids are literally chaos in a bottle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

woahajimes · 3 years

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So I have this little headcanon (well,,,, not really a headcanon but more of a nice-to-think-about headcanon because it would never happen but it’s- like the title- nice to think about so im sharing it here) in which they’re all going to the beach in this sorta mini-van that bruce rented. And take in mind that this is the wayne family, but at the same time most people that wear a bat on their chest,,,, so they had to whack some things up.

BUT ANYWAYS, it was Bruce’s dumbass idea to buy a van and call it a road-trip, and honestly? no one was ready. That usually happens with big families, even with one that has most kids over 18. And how everyone was on board with the idea doesn’t matter because this is my headcanon and they are all now squished in a minivan and there are bags in the back and towels in the seats and there’s a cooler on top because it didn’t fit.

and just for reference the van was like SMALL. it was sort of like the school buses but way smaller, so they’re like buses in which there are three seats in front, driver, and then like two others (the middle one doesn’t really count because that’s where you put waterbottles and stuff). There’s a sort of space in the back, where you usually put the backpacks (these are like elementary school buses and every single kid has those backpacks with wheels and it’s a pain in the ass-) and then there is another set of four seats (that’s more like a sofa but no armrest- god please have patience there is literally not a single image on google im trying to be specific- and those are facing the back of the bus (so the backrest (?) is facing the place with the bags).

THEN we have another seat that’s close to this one but facing the opposite way but it’s only THREE seats so there’s a space for the next row of three seats and then there’s the back one that’s four again.

In conclusion, you can fit 18-ish people, driver counted.

and continuing with my story, it’s Bruce driving, Alfred as shotgun, a water-bottle or two in the middle, the bags in their respective places... and then...

disaster.

Babs is the only one sitting in the four-seat closer to the bags, harper is in the three-seat, Dick is there as well.

and then there’s the rest. Steph, Cass, Duke, Jason, Tim, Damian, they’re all screaming in the back and they’re throwing towels around and there’s an “OW! THAT WAS MY HAIR YOU DICKHEAD!” and a “THAT’S MINE!” and so many other things because. the back of the bus, it’s cURSED. And Bruce is just driving with a strained smile because he wants so badly to turn around and throw a waterbottle at each of their heads to get them to shut up (of course, it wouldn’t work because not even god can calm down the back of the bus)

Tim and Jason somehow get into this argument of how tim ‘has no friends’ and Tim shoots back that in fact he DOES, that he’s calling them right this instant. And bruce doesn’t even have a chance to yell at them, because now there’s a speedster and a cloned kryptonian right beside the moving minivan and Bruce is lowkey freaking out because none of them (the ones in the van and the ones out) are wearing their superhero costumes, and then Tim is just with his hands pressed on the window and he’s like practically banging the glass and waving and they can’t hear him but he’s like “HEY! HEY HYE HEY YOU GUYS MADE IT!!!” and then dick is just telling them to cut it out and slow down because you know, identities, and Steph is like HOLY SHIT THEY DID MAKE IT and Damian is just sitting upside down with his legs in the backrest off the seat and Duke is in the same position, making fun of Damian because his feet don’t reach.

Kon and Bart seem to get the hint because they slow down, but not before bart has literally jumped towards the MOVING VAN and vibrated through (i’m like 99% sure he is able to do that so-) and then he literally landed on Tim (tim actually softened his fall, because Tim’s back literally made a ~crack~ sound by hitting somebody’s knee) and stood up real quick and then started waving and laughing at kon, who was now running normal-speed beside the van.

And then bruce went FASTER and kon was like WHAT THE HECK OLD MAN and he can’t use his powers so he’s literally running behind the van and bart is laughing his ass off and then tim is like “BRUCE STOP THE VAN!” and then Bart is already calling cassie and telling her what happened and you can hear cassie laughing from over the phone and then Tim is just yelling at bruce in the background. Bruce eventually DOES stop, and Tim opens the door for him and Kon crawls in and Bart’s still laughing, and he’s practically leaning onto Dick and Harper, and they’re squished together and bart’s just laughing on the phone while Kon sits on the really far end of the opposite seat (practically on the door) so he’s the furthest from babs as possible because he’s actually terrified of her. Tim is just sorta awkward because he now realizes that he was a bit TOO excited to see kon, and then the back of the bus/van is staring at them and like what the hell and then Tim goes “who doesn’t have friends, huh?”, and Jason goes ‘pfft’ and he calls roy but he’s spending time with lian; he calls artemis and she goes, “but wasn’t this a family trip? what do you need me for?”, SO jaosn calls bizarro and then he barely answers the phone when bizarro goes “RED HER SAID NO. BYE” so Jason slumps and it’s quiet for a second when steph goes “is that GUM IN MY HAIR”. And then jason laughs and its chaos all over again. (i might make a ‘things that were heard from the back of the road trip bus post bc i have so many ideas oh my god)

and then they are at the beach, the bus barely stops and there’s a few bags thrown out the window, and people yelling at Kon to open the door, and Kon not being able to work under pressure so tim opens it and everyone’s pushing each other and Steph has an uneven strand of hair, because Damian went to ‘extreme measures’ and cut it so now steph’s hair is uneven and they were going to keep cutting it “to make it even” but then Alfred was like “you’re all going to clean the van afterwards so think carefully” and then nobody did anything and there’s literally a ziploc bag with steph’s strand of hair (damian didn’t even cut to where the gum was, he cut even FURTHER but yes, the gum is in the bag).

As I was saying, they get out of the van, and the bags are out and Bruce has NO IDEA what to do. none. It’s alfred that rents a tent and then Damian’s chasing duke into a random restaurant’s changeroom and showers and then cass is dragging harper that’s dragging steph that’s dragging jason and tim is getting the bags with Kon and bart and bart realizes that he doesn’t have a swimsuit and then he stops walking and Kon seems to realize too and it’s like OH MAN and they can’t run back (because no powers, rule set by bruce when two super-powered bros came in the bus) and They’ recarrying the bags to this tent (do you guys know what im talking about? i feel like we’re imagining completely different things- it’s this but much more people and there’s a bunch of people selling stuff like sunglasses and doign hair, piercings, tattoos even - for the tattoos thing it’s just promo for an actual shop they don’t tattoo you in the actual beach - ) and It’s literally Kon, tim and bart carrying the bags (which they CAN carry between the three, it’s not like they packed up half the manor) and then a minute later or so Steph is sprinting towards Tim and she’s yelling something Tim can’t understand and then Steph points at her bag (that tim’s carrying) and she screams something like “SAND! HOT!” and then she’s like high-knee-ing/sprinting even faster and Cass is just walking barefoot in the sand, super calm, but she’s got Harper on her back. Damian and Duke are racing towards the shadow (because the sand is cooler there), and next thing you know Jason’s aready in the tent with a coconut.

And if you haven’t thougth about how the Batfam would be in the beach then let me tell you, you don’t have enough spare time because i know for a FAT FACT that:

It was Jason that insisted on Bruce buying sand toys (a whole bag, i swear)

Damian tried coconut water, didn’t like it all that much (altho he loves the inside- idk what it’s called but it’s edible i swear)

Bruce put on an excessive amount of sunscreen

Duke has swimming trunks with the robin logo just to piss damian off (also Damian has matching ones but with the batman one)

Steph, Cass and Harper rented a banana boat (here’s a picture) and they dragged Jason and Tim along, just to toss them off in the end

Jason 1000% got stung by a jellyfish

Bruce bought like seven friendship bracelets from this guy that made them because they looked deadass cool

They played beach volleyball and let me tell you Damian can throw a really mean overhand serve (actually, i don’t think you THROW a serve, but like,,, serve one-)

dick got buried in the sand, courtesy of Jason

bart was pissy because he couldn’t go in the water, so he and Kon sprinted with normal speed (they both had water-proof anklets that sucked their powers, so it was REALLY a no-powers vacation, courtesy of Bruce, again.)

the only ones in stock were neon, and they settled real quick so now theyre sprinting back and cardying a bag of keychains they thought looked rad as hell and now tim caught up to them and all three are practically skipping towards the water

,,,,they forgot to put sunscreen on.... all of them,,, they forgot....

tim made a sand castle

in teams of two (kon/bart, tim/cass, duke/harper, steph/jason, dick/damian) got on each other shoulders and basically spent five minutes trying to see who would be the last team standing, splashing water everywhere and stuff

first team to go down was Dick and damian, because steph pushed damian and by trying to keep himself on Dick's shoulders, damian accidentally poked dick's eye (sort of CLAWED in so you know what i mean).

second team to go down was steph and jason, because damian doesnt play fair and so he swam down and literally just scratched Jason's ankle, knowing damn well that the jellyfish sting was there. Jaosn shrieked and steph lost her balance. so much for vigilantes at night with stealth and talent, huh.

third team to go down was tim and bart because kon insisted on being on bart’s shoulders and that’s easy peasy because i mean, bart’s not WEAK, but he’s not TALL either and it’s not like Kon weighs a feather and they’re on the deeper side,,,,, you can imagine the rest

Now there’s two teams, and they call it a tie because otherwise someone’s gonna end up injured (altho tim likes to say that he and cass won)

There’s music playing in the background, with really vulgar lyrics that alfred disapproves of, but you know. It’s not his beach.

THIS IS REALLY JUST A SCREAM POST SORRY IT’S NOT WHAT YOU GUYS SIGNED UP FOR BUT TAGLIST ANYWAYS: @red-hood-redemption @screennamealreadyused @bikoncon @catxsnow @thesporklecat @thesesickfics-justmakemesick @hauntingsonofrobin anddd i think i forgot someone sorry

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jgvfhl · 3 years

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Help I can't stop--

--writing little fics that all involve saving Fives and sometimes other people and then just having Domino hugs at the end. so. yeah. This one has Tup in it! And an Ao3 link~

no warnings ^_^ about 6400 words, very fluffy by the end

Tup liked the busier nights at work, which he hadn’t quite expected. Bartending was a lot more pressure than working behind the scenes--washing dishes or prepping food before the night started--but Tup honestly liked it. Maybe it was his military training rising to the constant stream of orders and people and voices, or maybe he just liked the other bartenders better than the kitchen staff. Whatever it was, tonight was looking to be one of the busiest that week, and Tup only found happy anticipation to meet it.

Maybe a part of it was bartending meant he didn’t have Fives constantly over his shoulder, watching his every move to make sure he didn’t blow their cover or something. After over eight months here, eight months of considerable safety, he still hadn’t relaxed. The only reason Tup was “allowed” behind the bar in front of the customers was the cantina’s owner, Mira. She was the only reason either of them were alive after literally washing up on her doorstep during flood season, so she held some sway. She’d given them beds, meals, she’d never once threatened to turn them in for desertion--all for the requirement they help the aging weequay with her business, the Mirage cantina and inn. They would be fools to refuse, and if that meant Tup was up front, he went up front.

He still worried, naturally. Not so much about the GAR finding them anymore, not so much about the Jedi coming after him, not so much about how each day would end, those fears had largely subsided. Mostly, he worried about his brothers. Fives had explained the chips to him, as much as he knew. It had been a chilling revelation, and it still gnawed at both of their minds, despite having theirs removed. It was constant knowledge that each of his brothers had a ticking time bomb stowed in the back of their brain, just waiting to turn them all against the very people they were built to serve. Fives had sent an encrypted comm to the first person he thought might know how to help: Kix. Hopefully the medic would be prudent with the little knowledge Fives had sent, and hopefully he would know to keep it a damn secret until something concrete could be done about it.

Despite this--despite all of this--Tup had to leave it be. This little riverside town in the far outer rim rarely got news of the war unless battles approached, and just about no mention of Corusanti or Republic politics at all. He had no way to know what was happening. He had no way to affect what was happening. He had to leave it be. Tonight was busy enough without adding the small chaos of his own inner thoughts.

Fives had yet to accept this. Fives… Tup had been serving with Fives for almost a year now. He’d been through plenty of battles with him, hell, he’d survived Umbara with Fives. Fives had a way of… condensing his personality on the field, a way of putting the softer and more vulnerable parts of himself carefully away into some safebox behind walls to protect it from whatever he saw or did in the heat of war. But, afterwards, the old jokes and friendly punches came back in full force, usually helping everyone relax after the battle.

Fives hadn’t taken that safebox out yet.

In fact, Tup wasn’t sure Fives had escaped Ringo Vinda yet. He still saw the same guarded expressions, the same sharp, scrutinizing stare from the field. Maybe it was Tup’s “youth” showing. Shininess. But it had been over eight months since they’d escaped Kamino, and well over six since they’d faced any real danger. Fives couldn’t keep those walls up forever, could he?

Tup couldn’t really remember the last time he’d heard him laugh.

“You got everything you need over there?”

Tup pulled his mind back to his job. “Yeah, thanks, Dan,” he turned to his co-worker over his shoulder. Danula was Mira’s granddaughter, and definitely Tup’s favorite to work with out of the other bartenders. They got along famously--the first nattie friend he’d ever had.

“Looked a little lost in thought,” she replied. “Can’t have that on a busy night, you know?”

“Yeah, ‘course not,” Tup nodded, already moving to refill a pair of glasses. Service with a smile. Wasn’t that one of General Fisto’s mottos? He could have sworn he’d heard it from one of Commander Monnk’s men. Maybe in the same conversation about eating raw seafood like it was okay (which it wasn’t, it was disgusting). At least on a drier planet, he didn’t have that to bother him.

Tup caught sight of one of the regulars making his way through the crowded cantina. He glanced over his shoulder again at Dan, who was now at the other side of the circular bar. She’d be happy to see him.

“Hey, Carreth, good to see you,” Tup greeted the weequay who had arrived.

“Minnow--” Tup’s cover name, part of the precautions of desertion-- “a busy night, I see,” he smiled, craning his neck to catch a glance at Dan behind Tup. Mira and everyone who worked at the cantina knew about Carreth’s crush on Dan. Mira was fine with it, Dan’s parents were fine with it. Dan… had literally only figured it out last week. She was warming quickly to it, though. Carreth was nice, and frankly, too far gone to do anything stupid.

“Yeah, Mirage is a popular place this week,” Tup answered. “I’ll grab Dan for you.”

“Ah--I should tell you,” Carreth said, raising a hand and leaning in. “I noticed a group of your ah… family in town. They might make an appearance.”

Brothers. Tup paused, putting down the bottle of rum he’d pulled for Carreth. “How many? Can you tell me the color of their armor?”

“Kind of… black and red?” Carreth answered, tapping a finger on his chin between two horns. “Only five of them.”

Black and red? Odd. But he just nodded, casting an eye towards the doors. “Thanks for the heads up.” He filled a glass of Carreth’s preferred Corellian rum and left the bottle, then turned to get Dan.

He nearly bowled her over instead, only catching himself with half a second to spare. “Whoa! Hey, sorry--”

“Clones--at the door,” she said at the same time.

He looked. Well. He’d be hard-pressed to miss the guy who looked more Alpha-class than CT, which was more than a little worrying. But he didn’t recognize the armor at all. It didn’t even look regulation. Who were these guys?

“Okay, okay, yeah,” he said, seeing the new arrivals had put Dan on edge almost more than they had him. “Carreth just told me, he’s over there.”

“He did--wait, when--oh.” He turned her around and gave her a gentle push towards her admirer.

“Don’t worry about me, okay?” Force, he was happy Fives had the night off. He would have dragged Tup out of the bar and upstairs to their room before Carreth had finished the warning.

Tup stood his ground, now switched places with Dan on the bar. He kept an eye on the squad of five, watching carefully as they found a table on the edge of the room, then even more carefully as two of them made their way up to the bar in the center of the room.

Dan--Maker bless her--nearly gave up Carreth’s winning smiles to take their orders, but Tup wanted to find out exactly what they were doing here. He waved his hand at her, urging her back to her station.

The two men did stop and stare when he faced them over the bar. “What can I do for you?”

He used their pause to get a better look at them. The one on the left had long dark curls held out of his face by a red bandana with a small skull visible on one side of it. Speaking of skulls, it must have been their squad symbol, because half a skull was tattooed in black over the left side of his face, and the design was replicated in white on the helmet under his arm. The other, Tup had to do a double take, only because he’d never seen a clone with… studs? Ports? Metal… things implanted into his head, clearly visible because of his close haircut. Another quick glance caught the glint of cybernetic metal for a right hand. This guy had seen some things.

“Hi,” the first clone said, a little hesitant.

“This is a surprise,” the other said, a bit more confident. “Pleasant one, I guess.”

Tup shrugged. “As long as you’re not gonna get me in trouble, there won’t be any unpleasant ones.”

The second clone smiled and nodded. “I think some drinks and credits are all that need to change hands here.”

Tup liked this guy. Or at least respected him. “I can do that.”

The tattooed clone rattled off the orders in a way that said these were regular drink requests from the squad.

As he busied himself pulling out five glasses for them, the second clone asked, “Is that a tattoo there?”

Tup looked up to see his head tilted curiously, left hand pointing under his own right eye. “Uh… yeah.” He’d used to keep the teardrop tattoo covered, either a bandage or makeup when Dan could help him, but he’d been leaving it bare lately. Abruptly, Tup was aware that his looks hadn’t changed that much since Ringo Vinda. His hair was still long enough to keep in a bun, and the only difference was the shaved right side of his head where the chip had been removed. He hadn’t wanted to shave his whole head to start over, and he kind of liked the new look. But he still looked a lot like… well. Himself.

“I served with a brother with a mark like that, just looks familiar,” the clone said.

Small talk, clone style. Tup could do this. “Yeah, what was he like? Or is like.”

The other shrugged. “Kinda quiet, pretty nice kid. Didn’t know him for that long before…” He rubbed his head. “Well. Before a few incidents.” Tup could only imagine. “Never found out what happened to him, though. Guess he ran off before I got out.”

His squadmate turned a raised brow on him. “This the one your batcher dragged off about the…” He glanced at Tup. “The thing?”

Tup tried not to stare too pointedly as he finished off the third drink and moved on to the last two--the more complicated orders of the group. That sounded an awful lot like Fives talking about the chips.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Tup.”

He was rather proud of himself for not losing focus and completely ruining the cocktail by adding about three times the vodka needed by freezing up while pouring. But also who the ever-loving kriff were these guys? He started running through what the bandana-ed clone had just said. Unfortunately, he was stopped mid-review by the other one interrupting his thoughts.

“Hey, that reminds me. Can I ask something?”

Tup carefully finished the drink at hand and nodded, now kind of wishing he’d let Dan handle this. “Sure.”

“You haven’t seen any other clones since you… left, have you?”

“No, don’t think so.” Technically not a lie. He and Fives hadn’t seen any others since deserting. But, he could no longer avoid the obvious question of his own. “Can I--um… what do I call you?”

“Echo.”

Well. Tup was pretty sure there would only be one Echo who knew his name and might even be looking for him. There was only, of course, the small hurdle of his supposed death about… a year and, what--five months ago? But that might be the “incidents” he had mentioned earlier, and of course, it would explain his mention of the batchmate Tup had disappeared with.

Fives.

“Give me a minute,” he said, and hurried over to Dan across the way.

She must have been hyper-aware of the little conversation, because she had turned around before he made it to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, I promise,” he said. “I just need you to fill in for a few minutes, there’s something I need to take care of, then I’ll be right back, okay?”

“What?”

“Just--” He floundered a moment, debating how much to tell her. “I know one of them. He’s Blue’s best friend--like best best friend--they haven’t seen each other in a year, longer than that.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Please, they need to talk to each other, I just need to bring him upstairs, okay? Nothing’s wrong.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, her already lined skin gaining more furrows. But, eventually, she nodded, shooing him away with her hands. “Fine, but I’m not finishing this shift on my own.”

“I’ll be back,” he promised again, moving to the little door in the circular bar. He weaved his way around customers to Echo. “Hi, I’ll start over,” he began, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the music. “I’m Tup, Fives is upstairs, I’m taking you to him, okay? Cool.”

Without waiting for an answer (because it had to be yes), he grabbed Echo’s wrist and began tugging him through the throngs of people and around tables towards the “Employees Only” door that led upstairs. Echo didn’t protest. In fact, he didn’t even say much except to add to Tup’s many “excuse mes” and “thank yous” as they pushed through people to get to the stairs.

But once the door had swung back shut again, he pulled Tup up.

“What?”

Echo breathed a quiet laugh. “Hello to you too, Tup. Take a breath.”

Tup released his wrist and let him climb the stairs at his own pace. In doing so, he finally noticed Echo’s boots didn’t look quite right, and it took him several seconds to realize this was because there were no feet attached. The more he looked, he recognized cybernetics from at least the knees down on both legs. “Oh, sorry.” He wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for dragging Echo away or for not realizing what had changed.

“It’s okay.” He put a hand on Tup’s shoulder as they climbed. “How are you both? You and Fives.”

“I’m pretty good,” he answered, silently agonizing over the slower pace Echo had set. “Fives is uh…” He paused, trying to find words that wouldn’t alarm Echo too much. “He’s… been better?”

Echo raised a brow at him, hesitating a step before continuing at a slightly faster pace. “What do you mean?”

Tup sighed. “He’s… I dunno. It’s like he’s…” Words failed him again, and now they had reached the landing on the second floor. The room he and Fives shared was only five doors down. “It’s like he’s hollow, but he’s too full of too much at the same time. It’s why I didn’t want to wait for him to see you.”

Echo nodded, gesturing for Tup to lead on. “I understand. Probably wouldn’t have wanted to wait even if he was okay.”

A knot of anticipation was slowly tightening in Tup’s chest as they approached the door and Tup knocked. He knew Fives was here, and it was technically Tup’s room too, but Fives didn’t like surprises. Anymore, at least. This had to work. If there was anyone in the galaxy who could get Fives out of this person hell he’d put himself in, it was Echo, right? That was how it worked: Echo and Fives, Fives and Echo, the Domino twins, always. Tup wasn’t sure what he’d do if this didn’t work.

______

The first thing that struck Echo about the room was the clear division of lived-in disorder and absent organisation. The room itself was clearly meant for customers and had simply been repurposed to allow Fives and Tup to live there semi-permanently. There were two beds, a connected ‘fresher near the door, a table with two lamps between the beds--all the trappings of a typical (if low-end) motel. But the bed farthest from the door remained impeccably made up in military fashion, there were no personal belongings out that weren’t currently in use, not even a stray sock. It was a CO’s dream, sure, but…

He looked at the other bed--Tup’s bed. It was made, but not impeccably so. There were stray clothes in one corner, a datapad thrown on the covers, little knickknacks on the table beside it. It looked lived in. Tup had claimed this space, a while ago, from the looks of it. Echo remembered the state Fives’ bunk had been in sometimes, the utter chaos happening below his own bunk. What had happened?

“Fives?” Tup stopped where the room widened out to their sleeping area, and Echo stopped behind him.

His batchmate was sitting cross-legged on his bed with a mouse droid in front of him in carefully disassembled pieces, next to a soldering kit and a datapad. He looked a bit like Tech at the moment, except for the distinct lack of goggles and the tank top and shorts.

But it was definitely Fives. Same little tattoo on his temple, same stupid goatee on his chin.

“What’s wrong?” Fives asked, not looking up from the mouse droid’s guts. Echo frowned a little. Tup hadn’t been exaggerating. He sounded… flat.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Tup answered. “There’s someone you should see, is all.”

That made Fives look up, and his reaction was instantaneous. He shoved the soldering iron into its holder with one hand while the other found a blaster pistol that had been hidden behind his body on the bed and raised it at Echo. “Who the hell is that?” he growled in a voice Echo had only ever associated with battle. The voice alone was enough to set him on edge, like Fives had just given a warning of enemy incoming and hadn’t just pointed his blaster at him.

“It’s Echo!” Tup shot back, stepping more fully in front of him--between him and the blaster. “Fives, it’s Echo. Maker’s sake, put the blaster down.”

“Echo’s dead, and people lie,” Fives replied in the same stern voice as he rose from the bed to stand at its foot. “Get away from him.” The pistol never wavered, true to ARC standards.

Echo knew he was unrecognizable. When he’d arrived at the RMB on Anaxes after being rescued from Skako Minor, it had been painfully obvious just how much he didn’t look like himself from the way that Jesse and Kix and Hardcase and the others had reacted. Now, with a different haircut, and metal limbs, and no handprint of any kind on his armor, it wasn’t exactly a surprise that Fives didn’t believe it was him. But it still hurt like something vital had just crumpled inside his chest.

“Fives!” There was a note of desperation in Tup’s voice now. How long had they been living like this? Echo remembered the urgency with which Tup had dragged him up here, not even bothering to find out what they were doing here, or if they were a threat to their safety. A while, then.

“Get. Away.”

“No! This is ridiculous!”

“You can scan my wrist if you want,” Echo cut in, holding up his remaining arm. “ID tattoo.” The subdermal pattern of invisible ink would pull up his public military record on any device, displaying his designation and current and previous stations.

This made Fives pause, actually thinking about it.

“Please, Fives?” Tup asked.

After a tense moment, Fives exhaled sharply through his nose, which meant he had relented. He pointed towards a dresser with his free hand. “Fine, grab the scanner.”

Tup took a step forward, then paused to ask, “You’re not gonna shoot him, right?”

A muscle in Fives’ jaw flexed. “I’m not gonna shoot him.”

Tup still moved cautiously, keeping a close eye on Fives as he left his position between Echo and the blaster aimed at him. For his part, Echo slowly moved to take off his vambrace and glove on his left hand, then pulling up the sleeve of his blacks a few inches. Tup stood in front of the dresser between them, fiddling with the handheld scanner.

“Do you wanna do this?” he said to Fives, sounding… tired. Poor kid.

Fives shook his head. “You do it.” It was the gentlest his voice had sounded since they’d walked in. It gave Echo some hope. If Fives could still care this much about keeping Tup safe, the rest of him was still in there. It was just a little buried.

Tup walked over and he held out his wrist for him. The scanner sort of… tickled a bit, after being part of a computer for several months with the Techno Union. It seemed whatever they did to him had made him a bit more sensitive to the electromagnetic spectrum. The stripes of the ID tattoo lit up blue briefly as the device picked them up, and there was a soft beep when it finished.

“Sorry about this,” Tup murmured while the device was processing.

“Don’t, it’s not your fault,” Echo replied with a small smile.

He returned to Fives, holding out the device as a hologram display appeared from it:

ARC-1409

Formerly 501 Legion, Torrent Co

MIA: [unavailable]

POW retrieved from [unavailable] by Gen. Anakin Skywalker, CT-7567, CF99

Reassigned to CF99

It was different than the one Echo had seen, because the GAR devices and droids could pull up his full record, dates included, but it had the important stuff. Echo skimmed the short document, then watched Fives read it through. He saw his batchmate’s eyes hover on the picture in the upper left corner, taken about a month after his rescue. He looked much better now than in that picture. Fives read it through twice, and after the second time through, he reached out and took the device from Tup. The arm holding the pistol lowered its aim from Echo’s head to his feet.

“I have a shift to finish,” Tup said, stepping away once the scanner was out of his hands. “Don’t kill each other while I’m gone.”

Fives didn’t respond, just watched Tup turn and leave.

And that left the two of them alone.

For a moment or two, they didn’t move. Fives seemed lost in thought after reading the document, and Echo didn’t want to startle him. Eventually, he clicked the device off and set it down on top of the dresser, the arm with the blaster now hanging loose at his side.

“How did you find us?” he asked quietly, still facing the dresser. His voice was still unreadable to the inexperienced ear, but Echo could hear a difference. He was still wary. But he wasn’t actively threatening him, and that was a distinct improvement.

“Accident,” Echo replied truthfully. “We needed to stop for fuel after a mission, and the boys wanted a drink, so…” He figured the rest of the story was self-explanatory. When Fives didn’t follow with another question, he added, “Do you believe it’s me now?”

Fives’ empty hand slowly curled into a fist on top of the dresser, then slowly relaxed. “I think so,” he answered.

“Can I ask you to put the blaster down?”

His batchmate looked down at the weapon, like he’d only just noticed it. After another moment of thought, he set it down beside the scanner, then finally looked up at Echo. “What happened to you?”

He shrugged. He was used to people staring at him by now, with all his machinery, and even more used to that question. “An explosion and a few mad scientists.” He took a step towards Fives, encouraged when he made no move for the blaster in response. “The Seppies handed me over to the Techno Union after they pulled me out of The Citadel.” He gestured to his legs and head with his prosthetic hand. “They did all this.”

“Why?”

Echo took another step towards him, scrutinizing his face for the tells and signs he had grown up learning. Even ARC training couldn’t hide it all from him, so despite the emotionless front Fives had put up--and had had on since Echo had walked in, he could tell a few things. Most glaringly, he was exhausted. Beyond exhausted, in some aspects. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping well, if at all, for days at a time, if the shadows under his eyes were anything to go by.

“To get the strategic algorithm,” he answered, keeping his voice soft and even, giving no signs he could see how bad Fives looked. “The one I made with Rex. I guess they were using it on Anaxes about two and a half months after you and Tup left. Rex recognized it, and that’s how they found me.” Fives nodded. He looked numb behind the exhaustion. He rubbed his face roughly, and Echo took another couple steps forward. “No one’s coming after you, Fives.”

He watched his shoulders tense, hands still over his face.

“I mean it. The stuff you sent to Kix about the chips--you did the right thing. We’ve figured a lot of it out, we know Tup wasn’t in control of himself on Ringo Vinda. We know someone set this whole thing up. No one is coming after you, I promise.”

Slowly, Fives’ hands lowered from his face, and Echo’s heart leapt. Finally, he could see something in his eyes. They were no longer forcefully void of emotion, guarded by walls built during ARC training. It would have made Echo smile, if what he saw hadn’t been such overwhelming loneliness. It made sense now that Tup had described a kind of hollowness. If he’d seen something like it before Citadel, he would have wasted no time dragging his brother into a hug and not letting go until he felt the stress ease from his muscles. But then was not now. Fives was hurting, yes. But Echo had to be patient.

He stayed put as Fives moved again, this time over to the foot of the bed to sit on the floor, leaning back against the bedframe. Drained. “Is Tup mad at me?”

Echo did smile then, a small smile, and a little sad. “Oh, Fives,” he sighed.

Fives, always loyal to his brothers first, and the Republic second. Fives, who had always hated being left alone for any amount of time, no matter how brief. Fives, who had always spent extra time with the shinies after their first battles to make sure they took care of themselves. Fives, who had sensed the chips ran deeper than first thought, and risked his life gathering what he could to save his brothers. Fives, who had suddenly found himself without anyone, except Tup, and had done everything in his power to keep his little brother safe, no matter what it would do to him.

“No, I don’t think he’s mad at you,” he finally said, walking the few steps over until he was standing to Fives’ left. “A little frustrated you did this to yourself, maybe. But not angry.” He gestured to the floor next to his brother. “Can I sit?”

Fives nodded, barely a dip of the chin. “I just wanted to keep him safe,” he said in a very small voice.

“You did,” Echo told him as he sat down next to him, but facing towards him. “You did a great job. No one even thought to look here, no one had any idea where you two had gone.” He set down his glove and his vambrace that he’d been carrying since taking them off. Then he started taking off the rest of the armor on his arm, setting it all in a pile off to his far side.

Fives watched him, curious, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he wanted to know, “What did you find out about the chips?”

Echo frowned as he unclipped the sides of his chest plate and pulled the whole thing over his head. He wanted Fives to relax, to let go of the stress he’d been carrying. Talking about what they’d discovered, and what they had yet to figure out, would just get him thinking again. “Do I have to tell you now?” When Fives’ only response was dropping his gaze to the floor between his feet with a minuscule shrug, Echo elaborated. “Fives, as your batchmate, let me say this: you are dead tired. You look like you’ve been running on fumes--mentally and emotionally, if not physically--for about two weeks. Kix would scrape the medic symbol off his shoulder bell if he let you go anywhere in this state. I would rather wait until tomorrow, so I can make sure you get a good night’s rest and some breakfast, and then I will tell you and Tup everything. Okay?”

Fives knew he was right. Echo knew that he knew he was right. He drew his knees up to his chest and rubbed his face again. “Okay,” he sighed, but he didn’t look happy about it.

Echo smiled again. “You know you missed my nagging,” he said, holding out his hand.

To his utter delight, the corners of Fives’ mouth pulled up ever so slightly. He put out his hand, hesitated a little, but finally let it land in Echo’s. “Yeah, I did,” he agreed, linking their thumbs and holding tight. He let his head fall back against the mattress behind him, avoiding his brother’s gaze, but Echo’s trained eye saw the muscles in his neck constrict, saw the small stutter in his breathing, and he already knew.

“Looks like rain, huh?” he said quietly, squeezing his brother’s hand. It was an old code from Domino’s cadet days. They had all been so damn stubborn, none of them had wanted to admit when they needed a good cry. So, they had used Kamino’s weather as a cover. Fives and Echo had kept it up, even when it no longer made sense on a ship in the middle of hyperspace, for example.

Fives shut his eyes tightly and nodded, squeezing his hand in return.

“C’mere.”

He uncurled from where he sat against the bed and let Echo gather him up in his arms, holding him against his unarmored chest--because he had been pretty sure it would end up like this. Fives pressed his face into his left shoulder immediately, wrapping both arms around his torso and digging his fingers into his blacks. Echo rested his chin on his brother’s hair and put his hand on the back of his neck, holding him there while he unraveled.

How long had it been since he had seen his last batchmate? Something approaching two years at this point. Echo hugged tighter upon remembering that, and upon remembering what it had been like trying to put his life back together after the Techno Union without him. He was determined to keep Fives from going through anything like it now, even if this reunion was far from what he might have imagined.

After some time Echo didn’t bother to track, he felt Fives settle in his arms and heard his breathing descend to a more normal pace. He pressed a kiss to his head and ruffled his hair. As much as he hated hearing Fives cry, this was light years better than the calculating and emotionless man who’d had a blaster pointed at him a few minutes ago. It hurt, yes, but it was human. If it made Echo’s heart twinge a little, it was worth it to know this was normal.

“Feel better?” he murmured. Fives nodded silently, loosening his death-grip on his brother’s blacks. “Can we get off the floor now? My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

The noise Fives made was somewhere between a sob and a cough as he sat up from where he’d been slumped against Echo’s chest. But he was smiling, weakly, so it must have been a laugh. “Yeah, okay.”

Echo helped him wipe away a few stray tears. “You’re a kriffing mess, brother,” he smirked. “Maybe you can get some sleep until Tup’s shift ends, hm?”

“You’re staying, yeah?”

“Of course I’m staying,” he assured him, a little affronted he would think otherwise. Fives nodded, letting his head fall forward until their foreheads touched. Echo leaned in and felt a shaky breath of relief leave his lips.

“I really need a drink.”

Echo sat up with a smile. “You and me both, but I think sleep will be better for you.”

______

It was a little after midnight by the time Tup had finished his shift and he was climbing the stairs to his room again, this time with three beers in his hands, because he felt bad about whisking Echo off without filling his order. Echo’s new squad was still downstairs. He’d explained what had happened to them, and they had all been surprisingly accepting of it. Echo must have told them about Fives.

He hesitated in front of his door, one hand on the handle. He couldn’t hear anything from inside, which… was probably good, right? They’d had over two hours to themselves. Either they’d settled things, or they’d stunned each other. Well. He pushed the door open, knocking on it lightly as he did so.

“Hey, guys, I’m back.” He walked softly until he was in the main part of the room, then he smiled.

Echo and Fives were laid out on Fives’ bed, the latter tucked safely under his batchmate’s arm. It was the first time Tup had actually seen Fives asleep in weeks. Usually, he was still up when Tup went to bed, and awake before Tup got up. It was also the first time in months Fives had willingly put himself in contact with another person. He noticed Echo’s full kit was piled at the foot of the bed, along… along with his legs, yes. He was still getting used to that.

Echo was blinking sleepily when Tup walked in. “Hey, Tup,” he smiled. “Those for us?”

Tup held up the three bottles. “Yeah. I… felt kinda bad you didn’t get your drink earlier.”

Echo nodded. “Oh, it’s alright. But, I will certainly take that drink now, as soon as I get this lump off my arm.” He waved the hand attached to the arm Fives had pinned down.

Tup walked over and sat down on the end of the bed where Echo’s feet weren’t. “I’m glad he’s asleep.”

“Yeah, me too,” his older brother agreed, rubbing Fives’ shoulder. “But, I said I’d wake him up when you came back.” He patted Fives’ shoulder a bit more aggressively. “Come on, brother.”

It took a while, but it worked eventually. Fives grumbled quietly, at first shoving his face deeper into the pillows before Echo dragged his arm out from under him, then he hauled himself upright. Echo similarly pushed himself up, leaning against his brother.

“Hey, Fives,” Tup said, still a little uncertain.

Fives rubbed his eyes, then blinked groggily at him. Echo ruffled his hair roughly to help him wake up, and a tiny smile appeared on his face. A real one, too, not one of the tight, professional smiles Tup had seen him use in the past. “Hey, Tup.”

A huge smile lit up Tup’s face. Echo had done it. “That’s more like it,” he said triumphantly.

“Yeah, I know,” Fives said, looking a bit sheepish, which was awesome, because Tup hadn’t seen many emotions out of him other than a range of unhappy in way too long. “Sorry about… everything.”

Tup’s smile softened a bit. “Thank you. It’s okay--I mean, I’m glad you’re okay.”

He nodded back. “Yeah, well… we’re getting there.” His eyes landed on the drinks in Tup’s hand. Tup had picked out one he knew was a favorite. “Those aren’t being saved for any special occasion, are they?” he asked, gesturing to them.

Tup smirked and held them up. “Just this one,” he answered, and handed them out.

He was about to get up to get a bottle opener, then watched as Echo’s cybernetic hand plucked off the cap like it was nothing. Fives blinked at his batchmate’s open bottle, then held out his to open as well. Echo rolled his eyes, but obliged. Fives smiled again, clinking their bottles together before taking a swig.

Echo held out his hand to Tup, whose bottle remained unopened. “It’s the most hand-like thing this thing can do, please,” he urged, so Tup held out his bottle and let him open it.

Then Fives scooched back to sit against the headboard and gestured Tup over as well. “C’mere,” he said, “I’ve been a dick to you, I should start making it up.”

Tup gave another huge grin and got up to get on the other side of the bed. “Good to have you back,” he said, maybe a little smug, as he kicked off his shoes and carefully climbed in so he didn’t spill his drink.

“Glad to be here,” Fives said, putting an arm around Tup’s neck and tapping their foreheads together lightly. “Good on you for bringing in the heavy artillery,” he added, gesturing with his bottle to Echo on his other side.

Tup could only give a nonverbal sound in reply as he took a drink. Then he sighed contentedly and relaxed against Fives’ side. He hadn’t quite realized how much stress he had been carrying because of Fives, and it was all leaving him in a rush, like he’d just taken off his kit after a twelve-hour march. He felt light, and happy, and safe. And hopefully, it wouldn’t be too long before they could really go home, and he could see the rest of his brothers. The thought made him smile as he listened absently to Fives and Echo chat about nothing in particular. Yeah. This was good.

#looks long huh #my writing #my fanfic #tcw fanfic #i write things sometimes #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #clone trooper tup #fix it fic #domino twins #*cries in loving domino squad*#this au brought to you by:#EVERYONE IS FINE #userblossom

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cienie-isengardu · 5 years

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☆, ■, ♡, ♒, ☼, ൠ (maybe... a fashion/style-related headcanon; no Jedi robes allowed for this question?), and ◉ (Do you think you have anything common with this character, personally? If so, what are they?) for Anakin Skywalker (I love your detail-orientated and insightful meta posts on him; that's why your writing is so good and I wanted to meet you).

Awww, thank you so much! I’m sorry it took me so long to answer, but somehow headcanons kinda get longer than I was planning :D

☆ - happy headcanon

The first time Anakin took part in podraces, he almost died. It was horrible moment of life for mother, he knew, but flying made him so damn happy, he couldn't help himself and treasure the memory. The feeling when he was flying with high speed - too fast to get caught by master's anger, too fast to think about past failures and pain, too fast to look back - was like salvation.

Of course, he crashed that day. He was scolded by Watto and laughed at by Sebulba. But it was the first time he tasted freedom and he knew since that day freedom was reachable even for a slave.

■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

Anakin was growing up in poverty, so he was used to lack of luxury.

The little living space he and Shmi had for themselves was well groomed - everything had its own place to lay, everything was treated well. Anakin from younger years was taught that the better he takes care for his own possessions, the longer items may have been used. What could be repaired, should be repaired. What could be re-used as something different, should be re-used. What was no longer needed should be given away to other people in need. Money for home was spent sparingly and wisely. Though Skywalker family never had too many money, Shmi sometimes allowed herself to buy something nice to home to make the old, yellowish-gray building a bit more colorful and happy place to live. From her Anakin learnt that he does not need a luxury items to make living quarters feels like true home.

Jedi did not care for luxury either, so he had never feel jealous nor need to have better equipped home. Shmi taught him to take care of his things, so his living quarters were always tidy, clothes clean and folded and put in closet. The only one exception was electrical parts, spare parts for machines and all kinds of tools that Anakin used everyday, as a slave and Jedi. The little working space he had for himself was full of random things, quite often found outside and brought home for repair. Even though for some (mainly the Jedi) it looked like cramped - not proper for a padawan, even less for Knight - space, everything was still put in right place in this chaos.

When he was a slave or Jedi, living quarters were mainly use for work and sleep and sometimes to hide from pain, judging look of masters and their scorn.

Living with Padme was pretty easy. Her homes, on Coruscant and Naboo alike, were spacious, colorful, with nice view on beautiful sky or lake. Inside everything was tidy and elegant looking but it took months to get used to these places. Padme's apartment lacked personal items, making the beautiful interior space feeling a bit cold. Except for her bedroom, where she kept holopictures of her family and friends, her beloved holobooks, drawings made by nieces, all the trinkets; the most precious and dearest items that had nothing to do with expensive jewelry. That spoke about her too much that she didn't want - couldn't - put those on display just like that.

During war when Padme wasn't on Coruscant, Anakin would not sleep in their bedroom. It was too empty, too lonely to lay down there. He wouldn't go to Temple either, if he had a choice in the matter. Hangar where he spent hours repairing and tweaking this or that in his and his men starfighters was like second home to him. The same was with headquarters of 501st Legion in which Anakin and Rex spent hours writing reports and doing all paperworks between missions. If there was no need to be at Temple, Anakin remain there all night. The couch that he may or may not steal borrow from the corridor was comfortable enough to sleep on (although quite often it was occupied by sleeping Rex who didn't feel like leaving his general when Skywalker still worked even though the man told him to get some rest), and he may or may not bring electric kettle or any other poor machinery that was thrown away that needed just a bit repairing to work again. Oh, and okay, maybe he did ask Padme to buy some nice tea and coffee so 501st could have their own stash instead of rely of canteen assignment. Cookies was just a gift from lovely wife though.

♡ - romantic headcanon

Anakin is not really good with words. Basic language was not his native tongue (not even a second, that was Huttese) and frankly, it was not his fault the language was so, well, basic and lacked words to express his feelings. Okay, maybe he wasn't the best person to communicate his feelings in the first place, but the lack of correct words did not help. With is why he sometimes sound so awkward around Padme. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, but she would not understand the proper words of his native language.

With is why Anakin express his feeling though little gifts. Not the one bought by money (he did not have money, after all), but hand made by him. Japor snippet, when he was a kid was not romantic gift, really, but it carried all the feelings and hopes he wished to tell Padme, but lacked proper words. He give to his wife the cut down padawan's braid when he was knighted; a special memento of his ambitions and dreams and adulthood, so she knew he was a man, loyal and dedicated not only to Jedi, but to her especially. As knight should be to his queen. He wrote letters to Padme between one battle and another, so she knew he was alive and in love with her all the time. He would cook something tasty when they were together for a night or two, or bring some little pretty or unique things that made him think of her while found on mission.

Padme may not understand words he says in his native language, but she understand meaning of the gifts. Anakin cares for her, loves her, thinks of her all the time, in peace and war.

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Between Ob-Wan, Anakin and Padme, Skywalker is the only one that actually should be allowed into kitchen without fear of making mess and burning something. He may not be the best of the best cooks ever (there was little time for Shmi to taught him and Jedi do not teach padawans to cook) but he is pretty good on his own. When he was a boy, he liked those peaceful moments when he could help mother with dinner. They could talk about events of the days, share secrets, plan home budget for another week. As a padawan, he felt weird to not be allowed into kitchen, to rely on droids and kitchen staff to have food. He missed mother very much every time he eat some tasty and rich food; somehow even so good food did not taste that well if he could not share it with Shmi. Now, after her death, cooking by himself feel weird. He likes though the moments when he and Padme cook together, even if Padme just cuts and peels the needed vegetables or prepares other ingredients.

Sometimes, when there is mission for small team and there is time and no danger, Anakin is teaching Ahsoka some basic cooking skills as well. Of course, all padawans are taught how to survive on their own in wilderness, but that is not the same as home cooking. Cooking in field kitchen is not the same as making dinner for Padme either, but he does not mind to cook for always hungry Ahsoka and bunch of curious clone troopers who loves free food that actually has a taste.

Anakin and his men hunt for food as much as it is possible, to not rely all the time on supplies - one never know when they will be under attack again and supplies then will need last for days, it is not wise to eat them if there are other food sources available.

On Tatooine only rich people could be truly picky eater. Anakin grew up in poverty, thus learned to eat anything that will keep him alive. Every food, no matter how awful tasting was something to be thankful for. On missions, he may or may not eat bugs sometimes just to unnerve his master though.

☼ - appearance headcanon

Anakin does not pay much attention to his appearance. Like, he is always making sure he is clean, clothes washed and fresh and no holes, but he does not care otherwise how he looks. Unless he is put under high pressure that makes him very well aware he is gonna be judged by everything and the smallest detail slightly less than perfect may meet with disapproval. Which is pretty much how he feels all the time when he must meet with Jedi Council. Until the war, at least, because on frontlines everyone look messy. Even members of Jedi Council.

Shmi taught him to take care of his things and poverty taught him to respect what he little own which is why Anakin does not drop his Jedi coat on every occasion like his master does all the time. During war, Obi-Wan needed to ask time after time for replacement for his lost (or ruined )Jedi robes. Anakin prefers to mend and darn his own clothes (and Ahsoka, because no padawan of his is gonna fight in clothes full of holes, thank you very much). He likes to repair things, and even mending holes feels calming. Sometimes, during stress, he is literally mending and darning every clothes he get his hands on. His, Obi-Wan's, Ahsoka's, sometimes even Rex's kama.

Anakin has a lot scars. The one across eye is well known and visible but rest is hidden under heavy Jedi robes. He is not really ashamed by them but he hates when people keep asking about his scars. Because sometimes it is really hard to explain how he got some of them. Jedi do not understand scars from beating by Gardulla's stewards because he did not lower his head quick enough, from drunk scum who threw at him empty bottle, from crashing during podraces. It easier to keep scars hiden; he does not stand out too much from other padawans then.

He has scars that reminds him of childhood in slavery, some from various missions with Obi-Wan, when they together travelled through the galaxy. Some were fresh and new, from brutal fight on many battlefronts. Padme always looks so shocked, so terrified by them he almost feels guilty for showing new scar to her. Almost, because she always kiss him gently, the soft touch of her fingers gliding on the marred skin does not carry any fear, only compassion, only love.

Anakin has one tattoo, in the place where the bomb was once placed inside him. Jedi took it out, freed him from the fear of violent death. But time passed, but he still did not feel free. He needed more noticeable evidence, something much much solid than promises. The tattoo is not big and simply, just Tatooine symbol understood by few people, mainly by slaves. A symbol he risked his life and won his freedom. The tattoo is rarely seen by anyone, but it does not matter. It's not something to look pretty or tough, just statement for Anakin's own peace of mind.

Also, he would never ever grow a beard. He is the type of clean shaving and beside he would not want to look like Obi-Wan. Just no.

ൠ - random headcanon: a fashion/style-related headcanon; no Jedi robes allowed for this question?

Anakin, if he had a chance to pick up clothes for himself, would wear something between military-like and sports motorcyclist style. Army boots, cargo pants and loose shirt, maybe leather jacket or long wool coat, in case of cold. Anything practical yet simple. And in dark (brown and black) colors.

Frankly, the clothes he wore on Naboo in Attack of Clones are what I think he would wear on normal day.

In case of AU modern times, I picture Anakin's fashion sense as a mix of motorbike, military and rock/metalman fashion. Oh, and if he wear dog tags, I'm sure he would keep wedding ring there. And most likely just say the ring is special gift of closest friend if his marriage with Padme was still keep in secret.

◉ - Any other question of your choosing: (Do you think you have anything common with this character, personally? If so, what are they?

Oh, I think I have many things in common with Anakin. The feeling that people are more important than institutions or abstract meaning, valuing friendship above everything else and the strong sense of loyalty to those I'm close with. Oh, and most likely not dealing well with too many emotions albeit Anakin's had much more rough life than me, and a lot trauma to blame on. Me? I'm just asocial person who does not like feelings.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #ahsoa tano #clone troopers #my headcanons #headcanon meme #my replies

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