#clone captain oc

Ive had this piece in the back of my head for years now. Its even more beutiful than I could have hoped.

The dapper man in blue is @currypowderr 's captain Sparrow (idiot number 1)

And the orange bastard is my own oc Crack Shot (idiot number 2)

BA Allen created the Grievous model and textures

Jet just hoped, as he stared into those angry red-gold eyes through the searing pain in his chest, that Nihlus got out of here safe, that he’d find a way out, and maybe he would get older, find someone like Jet to love him, and learn to feel some of that warmth again, to be loved.

He would say he could live with Nihlus having been the one to kill him in the end, but, well. He wasn't going to, was he?

And then Jets knees gave out from under him, and his little brother lowered him to the ground with a strange look on his face. He wondered if this Nihlus would care enough to miss him, if he got out of here alive.

The last thing Jet thought before he died was that he wished he had lived long enough to make whatever version of Nihlus this was smile.

-

Nihlus. That… was his name.

It tasted like regret. No one had called him that in at least half a century. Not since- he didn’t want to think about them.

And then Lord Ouro had woken up in this strange place surrounded by Jedi and their soldiers after searing agony. And then the man in purple with the strange, identical face to everyone else, had halted the Jedi, had called him by name.

Had approached him, arms out, exposed. Weakness, the dark had whispered in his mind, he thinks you are someone else, use it- kill them all.

He rammed his lightsaber through the soldier's chest and then… and- and all he felt was concern for Nihlus, even as he was dying on the floor. No, this man wasn't mistaken about who he was, that he was not his Nihlus, and yet- he cared anyways. He still… loved him anyway. Wanted him to be okay again, anyways. To feel joy.

This man cared, about Nihlus. His name, he was Nihlus. This man cared about him.And then he killed him. Lord Ouro- because how could he ever be Nihlus again with this man dead, having blown out that candle so soon, Ouro had shoved his lightsaber through his chest. And knew immediately after that it had been a mistake.

There was no rush from his death, no pleasure, because he felt no fear from him, and there was the pain, yea, but it had been so completely overshadowed by the love. He died, but he felt no betrayal, no suffering beyond physical pain. Just… Regret. And then even that was gone.

Ouro kneeled next to his corpse and felt absolutely nothing at all. A cold, empty void. The Dark.

It was silent around him, at least audibly. No one could believe what he had just done, that Nihlus would kill this man, his- his family? Had they really? He grew older and made a new family?

Of course, nothing good ever quite lasted for him did it? He supposed it was only fitting that he was the one to snuff it out, to destroy those last little shreds of who he had been in the… future he thinks this is. This day was strange, for sure.

What really stuck with Ouro though, as the Jedi began to approach him with their sabers drawn, was the fact that the man had known Ouro would have to fight his way out of this ship and had wanted him to win no matter the cost.

As he rose and turned to face the Jedi, he grinned humorlessly, because that was a dying wish he could honor.He didn’t know what language they were all speaking, but these people were looking at him and all they were seeing was a monster.

Good. He would be their worst nightmare.

Ouro wound up to charge and- and felt a hand on his elbow, and oh for fucks sake how did he let someone sneak up on him? He swung his saber around to lop their head off and… froze.

Because he was staring into the big brown sad eyes of the soldier he had just killed. “Nihlus-” and the man followed his name with a word he didn’t know, but he thinks it was some sort of a question. But… the dead don’t come back. He had seen the results of what happened if you tried and he had… he had seen his soul leave his body and yet there it was. Same man, soul, person, standing in front of him that he knew he killed.

It was not something that could be faked.

The man in purple repeated himself, a soft question, again. And then very slowly as Nih-, as Ouro-, as he watched, the guy… slipped off his glove, and reached his hand forwards, past his lightsaber. He was going to touch him. Once more he was putting his life in Ouro’s hands.

Weakness, the Dark whispered again, trust, HA, slice the arm off, slice him to pieces, do not let him see you. Crush him.

And then the man's thumb brushed his cheek, and for the first time in decades, he felt warmth. It was like a small candle in a blizzard, but it was there.

Little Brother

Nihlus disengaged and dropped his lightsaber, and leaned into the touch with the smallest upturn of his lip. Ouro didn’t even care when he felt the cold press of a needle in his neck, because that warm feeling stayed as he drifted away.

I'm so mentally ill about this oc of mine. I love him. My marshmallow covered in a thick layer of concrete.

SKIP started out in ONYX SQUAD as the leader, although he had a lot of guidance from his second in command, Deadline, who acted as the voice of reason to the rebellious and somewhat reckless young clone. I know what those of you who knew Skip after Onyx squad are thinking: "SKIP?? REBELLIOUS AND RECKLESS??? HIM????"

(Onyx Squad, minus Skip and Tread. Here we see Mav with the knife, Rogue on the floor, and Taze being put in a headlock. Deadline is keeping them together.)

y E s.

But all of that changes after an... incident with his old squad.