#Commander Fox

[sarcasticbeanie]

More clone designs..! This time some canon fellas

[littletroggo]

I'M DYING XDDDDDD

poor fox deserves that nap

And here we see the wild commander in it's natural habitat: making clever use of camouflage to confound nearby predators

[motherofoompaloompas]

[frostbitebakery]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Fox pursed his lips. Front teeth absently biting at his scarred lips. Weighing odds, making plans, making spreadsheets with a color system for making plans was a Cody thing. “Fuck it.”

Quin leaned against the open door of the armory, curiously watching him as he decided how light or heavy he wanted to pack. “I guess you have decided what cavalry to bring? I’ve heard enough from Obi-Wan—“

Fox glanced at Quin. Right. The other Jedi. He put a vibro knife in every slot his armor provided.

“—to suggest air support. Or a tank.”

“A tank won’t stop him,” he murmured, storing a couple 15S on his person. A tank driven by a clone commander might be the only thing able to stop Cody but Fox was very aware how Cody operated. A comparatively small space with only one entrance/exit deal? Fox would be writing on the wall within minutes.

The missile launcher looked incredibly sweet and safety promising. The noise pollution Coruscant could maybe cover the sound of the missile going after Cody until it was too late. Fox sighed. The people making the noise pollution might not appreciate the plan as much as he did. He compromised on a sniper rifle designed for tranq shots.

It would be better if Cody remained none the wiser of being hunted. Or who was out to hunt him.

“There was a training sim,” he started.

Quin cocked an eyebrow, interest drastically zeroed in on Fox’s life before Coruscant.

“One of the batch would lead the hunt of one other batch mate. He won more times than not when it was his hunt.”

“Was it ever his turn to be hunted?”

Plenty. Probably the only times Cody felt close to carefree. “Still was his hunt in the end.”

Fox stocked up on the blaster cartridges.

[commander-fox-enthusiasts]

Fox: Vod, just because I wear red doesn’t mean you needed to colour the bath water.

Cody, who very much didn’t colour the bath water: [concerned vod noises]

[rougejedi77]

If they had Snapchat this wouldn’t be the only shenanigans they’d do😅😅

who gave the corries space snapchat?

[hastalavistabyebye]

Small sleepy Fox

Under the cut is the original doodle and another version of it (a bit rougher)

[rooksunday]

“you were at the chancellor’s apartment again? protection duty, was it?” general vos asked, in the mild voice he used when he was pretending—badly—to be casual.

he stalked around fox’s poky office while he spoke, dragging his fingers over various surfaces as if checking for dust. honk! wheeled near his heels, blinking in affront at the implication the mouse droid might have neglected its duty.

fox watched the farce from his place by the door. he’d walked in on the scene—thire had commed about the jedi on site in good time for fox to prepare his best unimpressed face—and had stayed to watch the performance. he didn’t know why vos bothered. fox knew that vos knew that fox didn’t fall for the jedi nonsense, yet vos persisted. it was a game, of sorts, that much fox knew, though he remained unclear about all of the rules.

he wouldn’t ask. he knew that rule well enough from time spent with palpatine.

“protection detail, that’s right. the chancellor values the work of the coruscant guard,” fox said, answering vos’ question and attempting to imply that vos wasn’t valuing said work.

fox wasn’t very good at implications but thorn had told him to try. bite back the first and second thing you think. that way you might live to see life day.

alpha-17 had used to say you’re great with the regs, kid, but you’ll be fucked on the field. but then alpha-17 had recommended fox for the guard, so maybe he hadn’t cared either way what happened to fox.

“commander?”

vos had drawn closer. fox needed to pay attention. he focused on the space between vos’ eyebrows and hoped jedi couldn’t sense that kind of thing. fox’s trainers had beaten eye contact into him but time spent in helmets had offered a reprieve fox was shamefully reluctant to give up.

“how can i help you, general?”

“i’d hoped— i’d hoped we could talk.”

“we’re talking now, sir.”

vos smiled. fox didn’t know why.

“we’re saying words,” vos said. he perched one hip on fox’s desk.

more ‘casual’. fox repressed a sigh.

“i don’t— excuse me, sir.” fox glanced down at honk!, who had come to a stop at his boots, and listened to the short complaining trill of binary. loosing the sigh at a more benign target, fox crouched down to pull a twist of decorative flimsi out from between honk!’s wheels, and slipped it into the pouch on his utility belt.

statement: gratitude

query: username: ten-ten requires assistance

fox shook his head and patted honk!’s chassis. “negative.”

honk! whistled a cheerful, derogatory turn, then wheeled off to his next task. fox snorted.

“negative?” vos asked, making fox start. he glanced up to see vos’ expression do something complicated. something soft.

fox straightened to his full height. it wasn’t very impressive, next to vos, but not much about fox was impressive, all told. he’d become used to that.

yet lately—

you have excellent posture, commander.

you offer a unique perspective, commander.

i value your—

“the mouse droid. it had a question, sir,” fox said, speaking much too loudly for the scant space between he and vos, but needing to drown out the gentle, insidious voice of his memory.

“oh? anything i can help with?”

fox shook his head. “nothing to concern yourself with, general. i’m sure you have more important demands on your time than anything you might find here. was there anything i might help you with?” fox couldn’t ask what vos was doing in his office—it wasn’t even fox’s office, just as his armour wasn’t his own, nor his time nor his life—but fox tried to chivvy the general as best he could.

“like i was saying, i’d hoped we could talk.”

“about anything in particular, sir?”

“i wanted to ask about the—“

fox’s comm went off, with the duo-tone sound reserved for only one being, and he raised his hand to pause vos. “excuse me, sir. it’s the chancellor’s office.” reading the message on his vambrace, fox found a summons to the senate. fox acknowledged the message and felt the tension syrup from his shoulders as he did.

was he relieved to leave vos?

or was he relieved that the chancellor needed him again?

“i have to go. perhaps commander 4477 will be able to assist you,” fox said. thire thought the jedi were hilarious, for some reason.

“i’d really hoped—“

“my apologies, sir. the chancellor has summoned me.”

“yeah,” vos muttered, as fox turned to leave. “that’s kind of what i’d hoped to talk about.”

[1-800-crscnt]

-random Fox hcs-

sometimes talks in third person when he's alone and planning something important. is more likely to happen the more he repeats the plan to himself.

is very sensitive to smells, but not tastes. if he can't smell something, he'd probably eat/drink it without much issue.

a bit related to the previous hc, Fox doesn't experience hunger, just the side effects of not eating. he only eats because he knows he has to, but frequently has to be reminded to do so.

has been pranked a few times by his own men when they leave fake spiders around his office (canonically has arachnophobia), but it's also (rarely) used to get him to comply with medic orders.

almost constantly wears gloves due to being sensitive to a few textures that he frequently encounters, doesn't even realize this because of how often he's in uniform already

aroace, like most clones

has low empathy and it bothers others but he just gets annoyed when people point it out, no matter their intent

grinds his teeth in his sleep and frequently wakes up with headaches because of it

finds manipulating powerful people very exhilarating. the more power they hold in comparison to him (physically, socially, mentally, etc.), the more of a rush he gets. this concerns a lot of people.

begins to not care about helping non-clones or following the law, only does it (most of the time) because he's supposed to. starts looking the other way when his men break some laws, like stealing/fraud/embezzlement, and they (tentatively) do the same for him #copmoment #idgafwarrior

[carrion-art]

3am detective work

[secretly-a-trekkie]

PLEASE GIVE US MORE COMMANDER FOX IM EATING MY OWN HANDS TRYING TO FIND MORE HIM CONTENT

commamder fox:

[muyru-iru]

CC-1010 sitting in a speeder waiting for the chancellor to arrive who was distracted by a Senate: ...

A man runs past him with Cody on tow: Stop! Fox! Stop him!

CC-1010 watching as the man run past him with a passive expression: another one, huh.

Cody: Fox! He just slapped Waxer and skiddadled...can you get him?

CC-1010: Nuh uh

Cody: what do you mean by that?! FOX!

CC-1010: Nuh uh! Not the chancellor. Not my business.

Cody: Fox. Snap out of it! For instance!

CC-1010: not my orders now. And please address me at this givin numbers of 1010. Thanks for your assistance.

Cody: we could've caught him!

CC-1010: nahhh

[cc1010fox]

Fox: Don't touch him. Natborn, who just shoved Thorn: Why? What are you gonna do about it? Fox: I'm going to have a headache writing the witness report... Natborn: What? Fox: It's always a pain to fill out a witness report when a clone breaks a civilian... Natborn, backing away from Thorn: It's not that serious... Thorn: Then walk away. Fox, watching the natborn walk away with his hands raised where they can see them: ...You know I was about to kill him. Thorn: Thank you for at least acknowledging I can defend myself. Fox: You're welcome, nau'ika.

[commander-fox-enthusiasts]

Fox rarely takes off his helmet. CG armour is designed to cover smell smell after many complaints from senators of the Guard reeking. Thanks to this, many soldiers are able to work long stretches of time, switching from rigorous activity to standing guard without issue. This also means smell is not an indicator of lack of self care. It took only a week for Fox to realise that lying about his state of being is easier if he's not caught without his helmet on. Additionally, when asked why he won't remove his helmet, if suspicions are raised, he claims it's incase he's walked in on by accident.

[fox-stan]

The clones have enhanced senses (due to being genetically modified super soldiers) which makes the normal world a sensory nightmare for them (I mean all that neon??). Send post.