anicastar

[anicastar]

hi i’m in the business of designing helms for alien Mandalorians because lucasarts is full of cowards

- Togruta (Rozanin - Clan Rig)

- Nautolan (Hokaanir - Clan Dochost)

- Quarren (Barin’tiir - Clan Dochost)

- Ongree (Ir - Clan Rig)

[anicastar]

More Alien Mandos

- Chagrian (Tal’galyc - Clan Dochost)

- Trandoshan (Cava - Clan Rig)

- Gungan (Vaar’tur - Clan Stral)

- Kushiban (Vasudev - Clan Stral)

- - - - - 

Artist Thoughts!!:

Most alien designs in Star Wars (especially the ones present in the earlier films) were built as costumes to fit over-top of actor’s heads. Few of these alien species were designed to be compatible with a fully-closed helmet, because production simply didn’t need a Twi’lek or a Rodian to ever be in full armor in the films. If the costume was gonna be on screen, they wanted to show off the alien’s latex head, not what kind of helmets that species would’ve built to fit themselves.

 The solid helms that fit on humans and near-humans -that come off as whole pieces of armor, probably aren’t feasible for a majority of the cooler non-human aliens due to the fact that they’d have to get around horns and weird head shapes in order to slip a helmet off. Either their helmets are huge and silly-looking or they’re piece-meal, in separate sections; a bit like a good chestplate!

Detachable face plates and caps for these helmets allow the Mandos to show their faces, eat, and get some fresh air without needing to dismantle the frame that’s protecting their montral, horns, eye-stalks, etc. These helm designs probably take longer to put on (or not, alien Mandos probably git good at suiting up quicklike- Humans ain’t special) but they offer the same degree of protection as a Human Mando’s fully enclosed helm.

- For species like Togruta with cool as fuck sensory organs like their montral, their helms would probably be designed to protect without mitigation, or at least with as little mitigation as possible, of that sensory input. I imagine my Togruta Mandos have dampening on their montral to protect them from the potentially harmful effects of being next to ship engines firing, or large ordnance, just like regular helms protect human ears from the same things without completely blocking their ability to hear shit.

Additionally!

Please do feel free to save these sketches as references or as benchmarks to help illustrate to others what your alien Mando’s helmets might look like! 

I’m more than happy for you guys to use these images as examples or inspiration! Do keep in mind though that these are characters of mine as well as runway models for Mando helms, so if you repost them please drop a credit to this Tumblr account there as well!

I love my Mandalorians diverse, forget what recent canon has told you because the Mandos were always a culture, never a select few species, and they’re far cooler that way.

 If my lil sketches can help propagate Alien Mando designs, I’m happy to see them circulate!   

K'oyacyi!

[anicastar]

- Devaronian (Lahtassi, Clan Stral)

- Gran (Sambet-Kamer, Clan Rig)

- Kaminoan (Tula, Clan Stral)

- Yoda Species (The Child, Clan Djarin  © The Cowards at Lucasfilms)

- - -

The Kaminoan and Yoda Species would just kick it with human-adjacent helms, ye

but I wanted to draw them as Mandos to make sure everyone knows that I love them as Mandos

[anicastar]

- Twi’lek (Mavadhi - Clan Stral)

- Mon Calamari (Gedheer - Clan Dochost)

- Rodian (Senu’shoy - Clan Dochost)

- Kel Dor (Sarad - Clan Stral)

now featuring the names of our esteemed models!

[anicastar]

i cant go out.im busy

[anicastar]

Saw one of those posts where someone was like “Boba Fett was only 37 in Return of the Jedi?? He shoulda been at the clubbb” and like. I cannot stress enough how much he was at the club. He was chilling in the corner but he was AT the club. Max Rebo was there and everything

[anicastar]

quiz enjoyers! i am now inviting you to come create something in my workshop❕

[anicastar]

If humans were reconstructed from nothing but bones, they would 100% give us fur. The idea of “hairless except for the top of the head where the hair is actually the longest in the entire animal kingdom” would never come up

[anicastar]

Rat Chain mail Coin Purse designed by Paul Frey for the famous Lacloche Freres jewelers. Made of brass and a small ruby.

[anicastar]

Obi-Wan: *upon ‘finding out’ that Anakin and Padme are married, turns to Padme* I’m so angry with you, Senator.

Anakin: Master, you can’t just-

Obi-Wan: Yes I can, Anakin Skywalker! She didn’t even ask for your hand before stealing you away like some barbaric queen of old, defiling you in secret without my blessing. It’s just insulting.

Anakin: ...um... so she... hmmm... what would you have said if she asked for my hand?

Obi-Wan: The same thing any other Old Guard Master like myself would have done; given her as task of great importance. If she survived, she would have earned the right to love you as you both wish.

Padme: *deciding to play along* ...what sorta task?

Anakin: *gasp* Padme, you can’t do that! Nothing dangerous!

Obi-Wan: Oh, the most dangerous of all tasks.

Anakin: Obi-Wan, no!

Padme: I can handle it.

Anakin: *is precious dumb baby* :(

Obi-Wan: Steal Chancellor Palpatine’s Correlian brandy from his office.

Anakin: ...??? *fully thinks that Palps would laugh it off and hand it to her if she even asked*

Padme: Done. *heads off*

One hour later

Padme: *busting into Obi-Wan’s apartment in a panic with Bail Organa and Mon Mothma* YALL WILL NEVER GUESS WHAT I JUST FOUND OUT HOLY SHIT WE NEED TO CALL THE JEDI COUNCIL-

10 years later

Obi-Wan: And that, my dears, is how your mother won your fathers hand in marriage and saved the republic by ending a war.

Luke: *plays with ship*

Leia: *braiding Luke’s hair* Mom did good. I will do better when I ask for my husband’s hand.

Obi-Wan: I’m absolutely sure of it.

[anicastar]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push my heel into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[anicastar]

Brush Ink Sketch 🪶

Old sketch of an owl I made long ago

[anicastar]

I want to write a movie that is sort of the flip side of a Hallmark holiday movie. Not an anti-Hallmark movie, just like the other side of the same coin.

It starts with a well-dressed professional woman driving a convertible along a country road, autumn foliage in the background, terribly scenic. She turns onto a dirt road/long driveway, and stops next to a field of Christmas trees, all growing in neat, ordered rows, perfectly trimmed and pruned to form. She steps out of the car--no, she's not wearing high-heels, give her some sense!--and knocks on the door of a worn but nice-looking farmhouse. An older woman, late fifties maybe, answers the door, looking a bit puzzled. The younger woman asks if she can buy a Christmas tree now, today. The older woman says they don't do retail sales--and the younger woman breaks down crying.

Cut to the two women sitting at the kitchen table with cups of tea. The young woman (Michelle), no longer actively crying, explains that her mother loves Christmas more than anything, but is in the hospital with end-stage cancer. Her doctors don't think she'll live to see December, let alone Christmas. Nobody is selling Christmas trees in September, so could the older woman please make an exception, just this once? The older woman (Helen) regretfully explains that they have a contract to sell their trees that forbids outside sales. The younger woman nods, starts to stand up, but the older woman stops her with a hand and asks her what hospital her mother is in. After she answers the older woman says that "my Joe" will deliver a tree the next day. "Contract says I can't sell you a tree, but nothing says I can't give you one."

Next day "Joe" shows up at the hospital in flannel and jeans, with a smallish tree over her shoulder. Oh, whoops, that's Jo, Helen's daughter, short for Joanna, not Joe. Jo sets up the tree and even pulls out a box of lights and ornaments. Mother watches from hospital bed with a big smile as Jo and Michelle decorate the tree. Cue "end of movie" type sappiness as nurses and other patients gather in the doorway, smiling at the tree.

Cut to Michelle sitting in her dark apartment, clutching a mug of tea, staring out at the falling snow and the Christmas lights outside. Her apartment has no tree, no decorations, nothing. She starts at a knock on the door, goes to open it. Jo is standing there, again holding a tree over her shoulder.

Plot develops: the second tree is a gift, because Michelle might as well get it as the bank. The contract for the tree sales was an /option/ contract, which prevents them from selling to anyone else, but doesn't guarantee the sale. The corporation with the option isn't going to buy the trees, but Helen and Jo can't sell them anywhere else, and basically they get nothing. They'll lose the farm without the year's income. Michelle asks to see the contract and Jo promises to email it to her.

Next day at a very upscale law firm, Michelle asks at the end of a staff meeting if anyone in contract law still needs pro bono hours for the year. No one does, but a senior partner (Abe) takes her to his office and asks about it. She says the contract looks hinky to her ("Is that a legal term?" "Yes.") but contract law's not her thing. He raises an eyebrow and she grins and pulls a sheaf of paper out of her bag and hands it over. He reads it over, then looks up at her. "They signed this?"

More plot develops. Abe calls in underlings--interns, paralegals, whatever--and the contract is examined, dissected, and ultimately shredded (metaphorically). It's worse even than it looks--on January 1st Helen and Jo will have to repay the advanced they received at signing. The corporation has bought up a suspicious number of Christmas tree farms in previous years after foreclosure, etc.

Cut to Abe explaining all this to Helen and Jo while sitting with them and Michelle in a very swanky conference room. The firm is willing to take on the case pro bono, hopefully as a class's action suit for other farmers trapped by the contract--but there's no way it can go to court before January. Which will be too late to save the farm's income for the year. They might get enough in damages to tide them over, but….

After Michelle sees Helen and Jo out, she comes back and asks Abe if there's anything they can do immediately. Abe looks thoughtful for a long moment, then gets a really shark-like grin on his face. "Maybe…."

Cut to Helen wearing a bathrobe, coming into her kitchen in the morning. She looks out the window…and there's a food truck stopped in her driveway. She pulls a coat on over her robe and goes out--two more trucks have pulled up while she does this. Driver of the first truck asks her where they park. Another truck pulls up behind the others. Behind that is a black BMW--Abe rolls down the window and waves. Helen directs the trucks to the empty field/yard next to the house. Abe pulls up next to Helen's car and Jo's truck and parks. He and Michelle get out--Abe wearing a total power suit, Michelle in weekend casual.

The case will be easier if the corporation initially sues them for violating the (uninforcible!) contract, rather than them suing to corporation (damn if I know, but it's movie logic). So they're going to sell the trees now, and rounded up some food trucks and whatnot to draw people in.

Cue montage of Jo and Michelle running around helping people set up while Abe and Helen watch from the kitchen table. The table starts out covered in file folders…and slowly gains coffee cups and plates of cinnamon rolls. It becomes increasingly clear here that Abe and Helen are becoming as close as Jo and Michelle.

Everything gets set up and a very urban, very motley crowd appears--tats and studs and multiracial couples and LGBTQ parents and everything--and everyone is having a wonderful time eating funnel cake and choosing their tree so Jo and a bunch of rainbow-haired elves can cut it for them. At which point someone shows up from the corporation (maybe with a sheriff's deputy?) and starts yelling at Helen, who's running checkout. And suddenly Abe appears from the house and you realize why he's wearing that suit on a Saturday….

Cue confrontation and corporate flunky running off with their tail between their legs, blustering about suing. Cue Jo kissing Michelle. Cue Helen walking over and putting a hand on Abe's shoulder and smiling at her.

I want the lawyers to be the heroes because they are lawyers and know the law. I want a lesbian who lives in the country with her mother. I want urbanites to turn out as a community to help someone who isn't even part of their community. I want Michelle to keep working at her high-power job, loving Christmas and grieving her mother.

[anicastar]

Kirsten Chursinoff

A selection of berry-themed textile art. Free-motion machine quilting and hand embroidery, using some quilting and applique techniques.

[anicastar]

Bought this one

[anicastar]

christmas is when jesus was born, and easter is when he died. in between is when he did various baby crimes bad enough to warrant capital punishment at 3 months old. very bad baby

[anicastar]