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the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond · 2 years

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Lost in thoughts

So it’s the v2 of a previous post, where I have wrote this scene with the view of my OC, Ishanti. BUT! Since then, I have changed my mind. I began to like a lot more all the fic with reader insert and wanted to give it a shot. I like the idea of people can insert themself with a character, on a story. I’m not an English language native. Any suggestions, tips, constructive critism are welcomed.

I have kept the background for reader of enrollment into the army of the Republic, and previous intimacy with Echo before the Citadel (even if that’s not really mentionned here). 😊 I will try my best – it’s my first time doing it, I will do my best! For now it’s going with a gender neutral reader.

Pairing/characters: Echo x G/N reader a quick appearance of the bad batch other member, mention of Fives.

Warning: none for now.

Summary: Nostalgic Echo lost in reflections, reader try to comfort him.

The team had successfully returned from their last major mission, and the credits were flowing. For the first time in... ever... the team could enjoy a well-deserved rest. Echo had stayed away from the others. The lack of action was disconcerting; he no longer had the excuse of having to focus on the mission, he was alone with himself. For the first time since his awakening on Skako Minor, he had time to try to rebuild himself, to discover and understand this "new Echo" a little more.

The clone stood as usual against a wall, near a corner of the cantina. The soft background music, the warmth light and the fact that it was almost empty made the atmosphere acceptable. The quietness around helped him to relax. Here he was, holding a glass in his only hand, sipping while thinking about his past and how much he hated his current condition. A nearby noise suddenly pulled him out of his unpleasant reflections. You placed a plate stuffed to the brim on the table near him as well as two glasses filled with dark liquid. He tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. You gave him a warm smile, tapping on the bench where you had just sat, inviting him to join you.

"I'm sorry, I guess you want to be left in peace, but you've stay in the cantina alone for days now, so I had to come and bug you a little!

The man blinked, and his tension eased. Hunter had probably sent you to check on him. He didn't mind... on the contrary. He enjoyed your company. The sergeant knew his affection for you, and that you’re probably the only one who could break through his current shell. He felt a smooth warmth spread through his chest as you handed him some cutlery.

"We cooked this with Tech. I hope you will enjoy it!" He nodded, raising an eyebrow at the name mentioned. Tech must have been very concerned if he had come to do this. Tech didn't like to participate in these "trivialities" and didn't have much of a talent for cooking. Echo made a mental note to thank his brother and reassure him later. His attention turned back to the food, as the smell of it made his stomach growl, reminding the clone that he hadn't eaten in a while. He was hesitant at the first bite, but his hunger overcame his manners and he engulfed the dish faster than he would have wished. He paused for a moment, noticing that it was the same dish he had preferred when you had made them a feast back in the days of the 501st. That was many years ago. Had you remembered, or was it pure chance?

His pain woke up when he thought about his former legion. Images flooded his mind. Happy memories, but now tinged with a deep pain. The hours of rest he spent strategizing with Rex, while you and Fives tried to give them suggestions and supported them with caff and encouraging words. The few nights at 79', where he felt uncomfortable, but his classmates helped him have a good time. That time when Fives gently pushed you to go dancing together... The friendly training sessions with the 212th members. That mission on a planet he couldn't remember the name of, but where they tried to ride gelagrub to get back to camp faster...obviously, nothing went according to plan. And this time when Fives, to impress a young senator, fought against one of her guards, and crashed face down when the guy simply stepped aside as Fives charged...

You called out to him in a soft voice and gently put your hand on his. The contact gave him the sensation of an electric shock and he came back to reality. He seemed confused for a moment, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He reconcentrated and tried to show a convincing smile.

"Echo, are you okay? Do you...do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head and coughed. His throat was dry, and he was looking for a way to dodge the question. He took another sip and as he put his glass back down, answering you in a huskier voice than usual.

"Don't worry. There's no problem."

You frowned and he curled up slightly on the bench. Of course, you saw through him. Before you could say anything, there were shouts from the other side of the room. First you saw a tiny gizka running through the cantina, followed by a herd of small creatures, then Omega trying to catch up. You heard a loud "BOOM!" and then saw Wrecker's imposing frame, jumping as fast as he could, his whole body tied up with a red ribbon, and Hunter tied on his giant back. He was grunting and uselessly waving his legs in the air. And finally, Tech appeared after them, cages in his hands. He stopped and turned to you. You giggled at the sight of Tech with multicolored ribbons in his hair, with pastel makeup smeared all over his face. The modified clone pouted, set several cages on the ground, and resumed walking with determination.

Echo blurted out: "I hope Tech recorded everything. It'll make a memorable video!"

#star wars fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #ct-1409 #tbb echo #arc trooper echo #echo #echo x reader #echo x you #lp mumbling #gender neutral insert #reader insert

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quietplaceinthestars · 2 years

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Apis Mellifera (Honeybee)

I'm very excited to introduce ya'll to Tar and Mellie. Thank you very much to whymylife (on ao3) for beta reading this!

rating is teen!

Summary: Tar endeavors to make a meaningful gesture for Mellie.

Scuttlebutt gets around fast, especially on a ship so small (compared to a civilian vessel, they're still several thousand strong on this ship). Tar likes to keep track of these things, so maybe he finds out a little faster than most. Mellie is being considered for a promotion soon. Everyone else that might have been qualified for one has gotten theirs, so he and everyone else is pretty confident that she will get it. She hasn’t really said anything, even to him. He knows she knows.

Tar’s problem, he thinks, is he's not quite sure on how to celebrate. She’s been in a bit of a somber mood lately. Maybe something less like a party and more…not heartfelt, but personal? Maybe he could play off of her name, there was nothing really more personal for her than that.

They’re on a ship that regularly scavenges battlefields, and for a lot of different things. Raw recyclable material, shipments that never made it but are still usable, bodies so that scientists and engineers can fab up better armor. His inventory (read contraband stash) is vast and very squirreled away, much like everyone else.

Surreptitiously peering over the side of his bunk, out of the corner of his eye, Tar can see the sergeant already asleep by the wall closest to the door. He’ll wait a little while longer to make sure he's really asleep and not just faking it, because sometimes there's an asshole who does that.

Plotting the route, plotting the excuse- Tar lays his pad down to the side. Sits up, surveys. Decides the sergeant is deeply asleep enough to risk it. His sleep clothes aren’t necessarily ideal in any other scenario, but this way he doesn’t have to worry about the rustle of plastoid when he least wants it to.

Tar slips down the bunk and whispers out the door in a length of time long enough to be a lifetime and short enough to be a blink. Only the door whirring open and closed is audible.

No boots means he just pads down the hall. The night cycle renders the ship dim and still. A while ago they had made planet-fall and Tar marched through what he thought was called an artificial forest once. The tree trunks were all the same size and the stillness of the air unnerved more than one trooper. The ships branching hallways have a distinct lack of fog, though.

Tar’s mental map leads him to a supply closet, where hopefully there's still a spare length of wire and some tiny pliers that no one else has found.

The supply closet where he last stashed some shiny bits is right where he left it and the hall is empty, so he doesn’t even feel self conscious about tip-toeing exaggeratedly right inside.

Rooting around reveals most of his stuff is still there. An ideal outcome if he's being honest with himself. Missing loot means you can't even look for it- without revealing you’re missing something you aren’t supposed to have anyways. “Contraband” it is called. Something everyone on this ship conveniently forgets exists when they feel like it.

Now Tar has run into an unforeseen problem: he has no idea what a honeybee looks like. This is one of the most critical details to plan “Make Mellie A Good Luck Charm”. He knows bees are small insects, with six legs and wings. They are mostly yellow and black. It's not a lot to go on. Maybe round? For all that he plotted earlier, he forgot this one detail that he could’ve easily looked up. He will make do with a bit of guesswork.

The wire twists easy and pinches his fingers easier. Frowning at the final product, Tar resolves to make a second better attempt. It’s a gloriously lumpy thing that looks closer to a Gelagrub. He settles in behind a crate, placed to give him an advantageous view of the door.

Time passes quickly on the disassembly of the first attempt and the construction of the second “bee”. The wire color isn’t even right and Tar is loath to admit it because he has literally no idea what he's doing let alone what a bee looks like. They make honey (somehow and what the hell is honey even for?). Is it a stretch to make a honeybee for Mellie?

Tar fretts right through noticing the door whoosh open, so focused on making a little wire bug.

Mellie slinks up to the crate he's using as cover and crouches on it like a mischievous gargoyle. If he looked up he'd see the gleam in her eye right before she strikes. She leans in close-

“Out of your bunk soldier!?” she shouts right in his ear.

Tar startles, drops his creation and swings with his right fist. Mellie catches his fist, swinging up without momentum was never going to get Tar very far. She yanks his arm down, falling forward onto him. His breath whooshes out of him

This pins Tar with her weight and he rolls to his left further dragging her off of the crate and onto the floor, right hand between them, letting him shove her against the wall and pin her with his weight.

It works briefly, and Mellie shrieks with laughter. They're both parallel to the wall, boxed in by the crate.

She hooks her leg under his and moves to kneel, using his thigh as a lever, bracing her other leg against the wall. Tar lets it happen (his wrist is bending in strange and unnatural ways and he's sick of it), rolling on his back she over shoots on the pivot and lands on her face, palms slapping against the floor.

With his arm free, he grabs her back down by the waist to get her in a headlock. Mellie worms a hand between his arm and her throat. The buffer space is Tars downfall.

Mellie plants her feet on the crate and heaves up onto her toes, uses that buffer to fling her head back- headbutting him right on the mouth. He rears back, grunting in pain. Tar lets go and Mellie rolls off to the other side of the room. Hands on knees, they gasp for air, waiting for the other to make the next move.

This lulls them into a truce more standoff than ceasefire.

“Alone on a Friday night Tar? God you're pathetic”, Mellie pants invigorated by the playfight.

“Make like a tookagirl and climb a tree.” Tar fights the urge to tackle her and bite her right on the bicep. Instead he tries to locate the half made charm. If he plays this right he can still salvage a partial surprise. Eyes squinted, he scans the ground hoping Mellie can’t see where he's looking.

“Try hiding behind two crates next time, that’ll really cover your fat head!” she throws back at him.

“MY fat head?” The gleam catches his eye, conveniently already half hidden in a corner. Shifting his foot to cover the rest of it from Mellie would mean drawing attention to it, but also signaling the end of the truce by half a step to the right. Best to just come clean, he can always get her back later.

He drops the half crouch stance, a move that visibly throws Mellie. Picking up the lumpy charm that escaped being dented catches the light, sparking a gleam in her eye. She’ll want this one and the one he perfects.

“What's that?” she says, far too casually. Tar very seriously considers throwing it out the door and down the hall after saying “a really important screw that fell off the ship last time I space walked.”

Tar huffs, considers, decides, says, “Wire bug. Bee.” She suddenly looks very touched, like him remembering the existence of bees was a grand gesture.

“A little bee?” Maker alive, she sounds teary. He should’ve known something like this would happen. He opens his palm to her as she steps forwards to inspect. “Fuck, that’s ugly, but great job with limited intel!” He's going to lick his palm and smear it across her shoulder plate right where she can't reach.

“It would look better if you hadn’t startled me right in the middle of the second attempt.” He’ll never admit that the wire was already bumpy after the first attempt, even if it's clear to see.

Mellie looks visibly excited now. “I have pictures of bees,” she whispers.

“Okay?” It would be helpful.

“You need to see, so you can make it look more like a bee and not a deformed blurg. Be right back.” She leaves as suddenly as she seemed to show up.

Tar watches her leave just as abruptly as she announced her presence. He sits down to finish this second attempt. Right as he's reaching for the third attempt stretch of wire he hears the door cycle open. Oh great, she brought an entire ‘pad and suspiciously quickly to boot. There is an elaborate plot he's been caught in that he previously was not aware of. Tar knows it deep down in his bones, but that's something to worry about after they leave this closet.

“You will look and be struck with knowledge on the appearance of honeybees.” She brandishes the pad like a weapon. “Read it and weep.” He muses while Mellie enlightens him.

Her enthusiasm is infectious. And he really is learning the ins and outs of bee anatomy and appearances. How the fuck is this the thing she focuses on? Fascinating, they are very round, but apparently this is the bumblebee class. Some of them look less like these tiny bees and more like full fledged sentient species you would find on the outer rim, or so he's heard. Imagine that, a bee that stands on two legs.

The lump of metal wire sort of looks like a bee, but he was getting too detailed with it. Round body shape. Round head. Teardrop wings. A little loop. Five shapes. Far more do-able than trying to add six entire legs. The second strand of wire, the third attempt finds its way into his hands. Right. Mellie is genuine as she talks about how- “Honey bees have five eyes, two normal ones and three ones on top of their heads that are really small and see in UV.” Jango wept Mellie! Next she's going to talk about how they also have hairy eyeballs.

“And there is actually little hairs growing ON the eyeball and it's probably like that for navigational purposes.” Mellie continues. What do you know, there is actually hair on bee eyeballs.

This third attempt is coming along far better, the body is pleasantly round and the wings are even sizes so far, but his fingertips are starting to dent. He hands her his last piece of salvaged wire. “Want to make something too?” he asks. He's offering her a chance to make something, but also sharing more than physical space. Mellie knows this.

“Yeah, sure.” She turns it around in her hands, thinking it over. She starts twisting little beads of it in succession. It looks like it was woven together but really it's all the same wire just twisted in some parts.

Tar picks his almost finished bee back up, working on where the wings meet and the head begins, eyeing her pattern. It takes less finagling than his, but it's detailed as well. They should finish around the same time. An easy silence settles and before he knows it he's tucking in the wire ends and checking for catches. Mellie has her tongue stuck out a bit, concentrating on the last twist. He sees the shape she made, like a drip of viscous liquid falling over an edge. She adds a loop for a chain or string and looks up at him.

They silently exchange the charms sitting on the floor of some supply closet on some ship, in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you want to talk about it?” ventures Tar, after a beat.

“Not really.” She purses her lips together, making a twisted frown. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem.” Tar yawns, stretching out his legs.

“Right.” Mellie stands and offers a hand to Tar, pulling him up. “Long day tomorrow.”

He nods and follows her out the door, neither of them saying a thing when he slips his first attempt into her back pocket.

#my ocs tag #oc mellie #oc tar #clone ocs #Mellification-Mellifera #star wars fanfiction #Please do not ship them. They are siblings.#my writing tag #my writing #writing

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masterjedilenawrites · 3 years

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The Sniper and The Medic: Chapter 7

Starring: Crosshair, OC Joan Vo, Tech, Hunter, Wrecker

Chapter Warnings: Mention of injury, mentions of bullying

Taglist: @proadhog @skippyhopperwisdom

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

Chapter 7: On the Mend

It was a full week before Crosshair saw Joan again. She canceled his check-ups, so he could use the time to rest instead, and Tech served as the messenger to report on his healing progress. And he was progressing, thankfully. The pain eventually subsided and by the end of the week, he didn't have to actively think about breathing anymore. As long as he was careful with his stretching and other movements, he was almost good as new.

In addition, their ship had finally arrived, and much to everyone's relief, Hunter stopped the simulation runs in favor of working on the craft instead. They outfitted it with all the tools and weapons they could get their hands on, and each took turns piloting through the storms of Kamino. They weren't allowed to break the atmosphere, but it would only be a couple short weeks before they were officially deployed anyway.

Crosshair found himself at a mental crossroad. They were getting ever closer to the moment he'd been waiting for his whole life, the day he finally got to leave this forsaken place. To say he'd hated his time here would be an understatement. The experimenting and the bullying and even the way it smelled.... He couldn't wait to finally be free of it. To be on real missions, not simulations. To see real trees and feel real dirt. To use his marksman skills, the only thing he was good for, to do something important.

But then there was Joan. There was hardly a moment he didn't think about her. He couldn't help it. She was unlike anyone he'd ever known and he couldn't get enough. Her voice, her smile, her gentleness, her confidence. Going a week without seeing her had been hard; he wasn't sure what he'd do the day he'd have to leave, and probably never see her again....

A sudden snapping noise came by his ear, forcing him to shake away his confused thoughts and turn with a scowl. Tech was scowling back.

"You didn't hear anything I just said, did you?"

Crosshair hadn't even noticed him approach. They were in the hangar, Hunter and Wrecker arguing nearby about what to name their ship. Hunter wanted The Marauder because it sounded "slick." Wrecker wanted The Havoc because it sounded "badass." Crosshair was staying out of it. And Tech had been gone for most of the day.

"Where've you been?" he asked.

Tech readjusted the pack he had slung over his shoulder with a huff. "If you'd been listening... I was doing some research on Felucian Gelagrubs in the library."

Crosshair almost started tuning him out again, until his brother looked up with a playful smirk.

"And then I ran into Doctor Joan. She was wondering if you were well enough to take her up on that deal yet?"

"What deal?" came Wrecker's voice, muffled by some food he was chewing on. Apparently he and Hunter had finished their argument and were more interested in this new conversation.

"Cross promised to teach Joan how to shoot once he felt better. I told her you were feeling much better, and she said she'll have a few free hours tonight if you're interested."

Crosshair wished he could smack the smug grin off Tech's face. And shove that turkey leg down Wrecker's throat to stop his howling laughter. Only Hunter wasn't making fun. If anything, he looked confused.

"But she knows how to shoot," he said with a frown. "She's told me...."

Tech shrugged, starting to walk toward the ship's ramp. "Maybe she wants a refresher?"

"Or she wants to cozy up to Crosshaaaair," teased Wrecker.

Crosshair felt his face growing flushed. He was about to snap at them for being idiots, but Hunter intervened.

"Okay, that's enough. I'm sure Joan didn't mean anything by it..." Hunter paused with another frown. He didn't sound convinced; in fact, he sounded concerned. But then he shook himself and gave Crosshair a nod. "If you want to help her practice, fine by me. Just make sure you help us with the paint job before you go."

Hunter gave the ship a fond tap on its hull.

"What name are we going with?" asked Tech.

"The Havoc Marauder."

* * *

Crosshair made it to the simulation room before Joan. He programmed it to Felucia, inspired by Tech's mention of it earlier. It was another green planet, but with stranger-looking flora and a mist that hung low in the air.

"This your favorite?" came her low voice. It was a little raspier than usual; maybe she'd been talking a lot that day.

Crosshair swallowed down a wave of nerves that threatened to overcome him. It was so nice to see her again after so long apart.

"It's a good challenge," he shrugged. "Decreased visibility. Uneven terrain. Hostile flora and fauna."

Joan stood beside him, looking around. She was wearing the same outfit as last time and had her hair braided back. A standard-issue DC-15A blaster rifle was strapped across her back.

"Did you steal that from a reg?"

She didn't laugh like he'd hoped, but she did have a faint smile. She swung the rifle around and held it firmly, confidently. "It's mine. Most medics were only given pistols, but my troop let me have this one."

"So you do know how to shoot," he said.

Joan lifted the rifle to her shoulder and aimed up at one of the simulation targets on a tree. She fired and made the hit.

"A straight shot with no stress or pressure, I'm not bad..." She then grimaced. "But I was never good in an actual firefight. They only gave me a gun for self-protection. The rest of the time I just focused on tending wounds, let my brothers take care of the cover fire."

Her use of the term "brothers" did not go unnoticed to Crosshair, but he didn't comment on it. He nodded his head and brought out his own gun. It was a much superior model than hers, but he wouldn't show off. Not too much, anyway.

He led her to some higher ground and got to work, teaching her what he knew, just like she had taught him the week before. He went over posture and breathing. He threw in some facts about angles and trajectories. He had her find an "anchor" for herself, a way that she would always hold the gun and her body, so no matter the situation, she could fall into that comfortable position. And he took any opportunity he could find to place his hand or his arm around her.

This was his life, things he'd engaged with for years and years. And even though he only had mere hours with her, he wanted to share as much as he could.

Joan was a good student. She wasn't the best shooter, but by the end of the night, she had made some improvement. She was no longer hesitating with the trigger and managed to take down a simulated Acklay despite being scared of it. That was a win in Crosshair's eyes.

When she finally showed signs of fatigue, he turned off the sim and sat with her on one of the benches along the walls. They sat in silence for a brief time, and Crosshair was grateful she didn't seem uncomfortable by it. He let his head rest against the wall and closed his eyes.

"Is Tech okay?" she eventually asked.

His eyes reopened, only so he could furrow them in confusion. "Yeah, why?"

She shrugged and stifled a yawn. "There were some... uh, clones bothering him in the library earlier. Wasn't sure if it upset him."

"He didn't mention it," Crosshair said with a clenched jaw. He really hated when the regs messed with his brothers, especially Tech.

Joan shifted to better face him. "He's a hard one to read. Most of his visits, I'm answering his millions of questions about human anatomy. He only puts stats on his chart. Like that assignment I had, to write things about yourselves? He drew a diagram of his body with arrows pointing out his height, eye color, body fat percentage...."

She chuckled softly and Crosshair found himself joining in. That sounded like Tech, alright.

"I don't know. I just want to make sure he's not really hurting inside. You were the one I thought I had to worry about. Wrecker wears his emotions on his sleeve. Hunter's guided by duty, so it's easy to predict what he feels."

"And me?"

"You put up walls. Which I get. It's hard to be... you." She cocked her head with a knowing look. "But when you respect someone, you let them in. And from there you're an open book."

He frowned. "I am not."

"You kinda are though," she laughed. "I can always tell by your tone when you like certain things or not. Scowling is your default, but when you're really upset your jaw clenches. And..." she looked down in her lap with a small smile, "you blush sometimes when I talk."

Crosshair's eyes widened in horror, which only made her laugh more.

"It's okay. It's... flattering."

He gulped. Her cheeks were pinker than usual as well, but that must have been from the training they just did. Surely....

"I'll, uh... I'll keep an eye on Tech," he stuttered. "He'll be fine."

"Good." She clapped her legs and stood up. "Well anyway, I won't keep you up much later. Thank you for the lesson. It was fun."

He stood, too, and decided to say, with a shake in his breath, "I hope it won't be another week before I see you again?"

"Well, I guess I should take another look at that little wound of yours soon."

"Tomorrow?"

Her smile faltered, ever so briefly, and Crosshair panicked. Was he sounding too eager?

"Sure. I should have some time... three o'clock?"

He nodded with an internal sigh of relief. She let her gaze linger on his for just a moment more, and he started to think maybe, just maybe, she had been blushing after all. Maybe there was a chance she liked him back.

He hoped she did. But at the same time, he knew it would only make it that much harder to leave....

#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #crosshair #crosshair x oc #fluff #medical things #military things

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starwarsplanets · 4 years

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"The worst thing about Felucia is the rancor!"

Felucia was a largely unsettled terrestrial jungle planet in the Felucia system of the Thanium Worlds in the Outer Rim Territories. Located near the junction of the Perlemian Trade Route and Shaltin Tunnels, the world featured a hot and humid atmosphere and significant water resources beneath a surface irradiated by ultraviolet light of the star Felix. Native plant, fungal, and animal life evolved to dominate the environment in a deep symbiotic relationship, causing significant Force energy to permeate the ecosystem. Felucia had a diversity of bizarre plants (such as spike, spore, and enormous pitcher plants), fungi, and animals which were almost rubber-like and translucent. When the sun shone, the environment glittered like multicolored glass. Most of Felucia was entirely covered by a humid, fetid landscape of huge fungal forests, and its wildlife included native gelagrubs, immigrated acklays, and a prodigious sarlacc. Felucia had strong ties to the Living Force, and as such the world's flora and fauna, including Jungle Felucians, could be influenced by a presence of a strong Force-user, both light and dark. Most plants and animals of Felucia had adapted special defenses to protect them from each other, which made them particularly hostile to off-worlders. Felucia was known to radiate a sort of life force that the native Jungle Felucians were capable of feeling.

#felucia #star wars #swtcw #star wars: the clone wars

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padawanprotege · 4 years

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Senator Costume Concepts

Hey everyone. One of my favourite aspects of Star Wars is the fashion. So taking inspiration from the members of the galactic senate and the natural environment, I created a concept for a Felucian senator and an Umbaran senator if they both existed.

Senator of Felucia inspired by the translucent flora of the planet, including the ferns, giant mushroom forests and spore plants. The skirt also mirrors the shimmering, semi-transparent skin of the Gelagrub native to Felucia.

Senator of Umbara. I used mostly dark colours to reflect the naturally shadowy planet while also incorporating the vibrant luminescent plant life of Umbara into the garment, and the head piece is inspired by the Vixus.

#clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone wars oc #star wars #star wars oc #swtcw #fashion #dresses #costume concept #costume ideas #star wars fashion

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irrfahrer · 4 years

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Wookiepedia on Felucias Flora

Read the Original Texts Here, Here, Here, Here and Here!

Felucia was a colorful, humid jungle planet located in the Felucia system of the galaxy's Outer Rim Territories. Located along the Perlemian Trade Route, its important strategic location made it a major battleground throughout the Clone Wars.

Felucia had a diversity of bizarre plants (such as spike, spore, and enormous pitcher plants), fungi, and animals which were almost rubber-like and translucent. When the sun shone, the environment glittered like multicolored glass. Most of Felucia was entirely covered by a humid, fetid landscape of huge fungal forests, and its wildlife included native gelagrubs, immigrated acklays, and a prodigious sarlacc. Felucia had strong ties to the Living Force, and as such the world's flora and fauna, including Jungle Felucians, could be influenced by a presence of a strong Force-user, both light and dark. Most plants and animals of Felucia had adapted special defenses to protect them from each other, which made them particularly hostile to off-worlders. Felucia was known to radiate a sort of life force that the native Jungle Felucians were capable of feeling.

Spike Plants Felucia spike plants were an orangish-green colored plant indigenous to Felucia. The dangerous plants were usually found near spore plants and were known to release a barrage of green spikes when touched.

Spore Plants Felucian spore plants, found on Felucia, were plants that would release deadly spores when touched. One known group of victims of the spores was Alpha Squad of the Zann Consortium.

Enormous Pitcher Plants Pitcher plants are several different carnivorous plants which have modified leaves known as pitfall traps—a prey-trapping mechanism featuring a deep cavity filled with digestive liquid. The traps of what are considered to be "true" pitcher plants are formed by specialized leaves. The plants attract and drown their prey with nectar.

Nysillin or Sillum Nysillin was a healing herb grown on Felucia and known to be harvested by Casiss and his farming community at the time of the Clone Wars. A band of pirates led by Hondo Ohnaka harassed the village into giving them the valuable crop, leading Casiss to hire a group of bounty hunters to drive off the pirates. Later, the Nuro Pirates led by Yorn Nuro started a nysillin farm, fighting against the Republic.

#inspiration #oh damn now I want ziv to go to filucia #...i only knew it from shaak tis story in the starkiller game and did not rememberd its where aayla died T-T #BLESS WOOKIEPEDIA! BLESS IT I LOVE IT ITS AMAZING

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