The Barriss Brainrot Has Taken Over

the barriss brainrot has taken over

Echo and Fives. I always think about how the ghosts of fallen clones are probably just as much in pain when they watch their brothers who are alive and still going through it. I especially think of Echo and Rex 😔 I’ll probably draw more sad stuff about it

Reasons Clone X is Tech:

-his accent is different from the rest-they are trying to conceal it by layering it with a regular clone voice and the helmet modulation but it's there

-he does a "Tech turn" when he lands his ship

-Cross' attempt to look back at one of the Clone X guys in episode 3 and his mournful look down after he says they come out of reconditioning "different." How would he know this unless he knew one of the clones getting reconditioned and watching them get their personality wiped away? How many clones does Cross know personally to notice such a change?

-while he's strangling Cross, Cross taps his shoulder like you would when you were sparring and want to "tap out." This is a similar gesture that Hunter did when Wrecker's chip activated in Season 1 and he was also being strangled. You would think he would hit him or fight harder instead of "tapping out" if he was fighting for his life. Makes you wonder if he doesn't want to hurt the other person...

-why would they go to such lengths to show us scenes we have seen Tech endure before? Such as getting his leg crushed and limping around through the pain, grunting after moving big rocks around, falling over a waterfall and listening to his little gasps/coughs for air...this would have to be some kind of elaborate misdirect if we weren't supposed to think it was Tech.

-there were definitely strains of the Plan 99 theme as Cross and Clone X went over the falls

-lots of other little things like his leg pouches, the definition of his (very shapely) calves, his helmet being a little different and looking a little "friendlier" around the eyes, his inability to follow orders, the way he can anticipate the Batch's moves

I think Cross acts sketchy about these Clone X types because he knows it's Tech and thinks it's permanent/unfixable so he doesn't want his brothers to be hurt over it. I trust him and his redemption arc, he has proven he has changed and is sorry for his previous choices. I could see how him keeping this from the Batch could cause friction between them down the road and I bet the writers would love to mine the angst from this situation.

It is also possible but less likely that he knows it's Tech and Tech is just in deep cover so he doesn't want to blow it? This theory might just be me hoping Tech is ok.

I have never been more convinced this Clone X is Tech. How much is left of him...not sure.

when have we ever followed orders?

Redraw of the poor meow meow aka Fox <3

God I fucking hate Olaf the snowman so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid lumpy face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking legs? Who the hell makes a snowman with legs. His dumb flaily fucking twig arms? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking SNOW BUCK TOOTH that no snowman has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Olaf or an Olaf gif or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Olaf the fuckshit snow fucker, I like warm hugs". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like Tow Mater summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking lumpy carrot nose and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top goofy ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking children's movie, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the snow dick is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking nose. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional snowman