Current WIP I'm working on after watching Star Wars visions. I still have some more episodes to get through but I just HAD to draw ❤️HER❤️ (I took a pic of this on my phone so the colors look off).
Absolutely fell in love with her design...(yeah, her design👀)
I decided to draw mortis vision ahsoka because her design just looked Soo cool in the show. I also used this as an opportunity to practice shading realistically and I'm kind of happy with how it turned out. Hopefully I'll improve some more in the future.
What is White Washing and What Does It Have To Do With Star Wars?
Even if you’re not a Star Wars fan, this post is for you. Whitewashing is a problem that goes beyond just fans. It’s something that must be acknowledged by everyone in order to make change.
Today, Disney’s show The Bad Batch was renewed for Season 2. This is an animated show centered on Clone Troopers. These troopers and the original character that’s been Cloned, are played by Temuera Morrison in Star Wars: Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith as seen below:
The Bad Batch are a group of genetically modified Clone Troopers, with desirable battle skills.
The leader has keen senses, one is super strong, one is a genius, one is a sharp shooter, and one has joined the Batch after being held as a prisoner of war.
So how does this all tie into white washing? Well! Let’s first ask ourselves what white washing is.
Webster defines it this way:
Whitewashing • to alter (something) in a way that favors, features, or caters to white people
Whitewashing is used to make things more Eurocentric. In media, whitewashing is often used to ignore, speak over, or disregard characters of color.
The most famous example of whitewashing is in the 2017 movie “Ghost in the Shell”. Where Scarlet Johansson plays a Japanese character. Everyone remembers how shocked and disgusted the internet was when this was announced. Not only did this casting choice ignore Asian actors, it also made the character more eurocentric, erasing her identity, and the representation she gave.
Wiki has a full article about white washing in film which you can read here
But bringing it back to animated Star Wars. The Bad Batch are genetically modified clones. They’re often seen as “better” than regular Clone Troopers, and are called in for missions no one else can do. Imagine the A-Team. But this brings us to what the Bad Batch look like:
These are supposed to be Clones, exact copies, of the man I showed you earlier. The large one, Wrecker, is the only one who actually looks like a Man of Color. And guess what. He’s the dumb one. The light one with the glasses? He’s the smartest one.
Whitewashing doesn’t stop at skin tone. This show has a very angular style, but art style is not an excuse. This art style CAN animate round features as seen on the background character Captain Typho:
The Bad Batch faces are thinned, with high cheek bones. They have round eyes, as opposed to hooded almond eyes, they’re thin, as opposed to a solid frame and build. Here’s a quick side by side comparison:
As noted by the red lines and color pallets, these designs are clear examples of white washing. We know they CAN animate round features, but they CHOSE not to. Captain Typho, is hardly in one episode. So what conclusion does this draw?
Star Wars has a history of being white centric. Finn was the only lead Black character and he was tossed aside. Lando is a side character. The main cast is all white.
Disney and Lucas Film will not allow POC to be the center of Star Wars. Even when they have no choice, they instead whitewash to make the characters more eurocentric. They do everything in their power to ignore and disregard POC and characters of color.
So what can you do?
Say something! Tweet about it! Make a post on Tumblr or Instagram! Tag Disney, LucasArts and anyone associated.
Use tags to spread the word! You can tag it #RacismInStarWars #StopStarWarsRacism #UnWhiteWashTBB
Sign the petition! Unwhitewashtbb has a petition and an open letter to Star Wars, I encourage you all, fan of Star Wars or not, to sign! If you want to make a stand against Racism, this is a great place to start.
Unwhitewash Star Wars: The Bad Batch #UnwhitewashTBB
This issue is bigger than fandom drama. This is a problem that effects real people. Whitewashing is harmful, it makes POC feel ignored and disregarded. It makes us feel insecure in our identity. Personally, white washing always makes me feel ugly. All I can think is “If Star Wars, my childhood favorite, thinks my features are undesirable, what does that make me?” That runs around in my head like crazy. And I feel worthless. Like garbage. This is beyond who you like or don’t like in a fandom. It’s beyond one person.
I haven't posted much art on here so here's a quick speed paint of Barriss I did a few days ago!
I didn't give this much thought while making it, (I just pictured it in my mind) but now, you could interpret it as Barriss getting a lecture from her master and her just feeling disappointed. I like to think she kind of envied Ahsoka and Anakin's relationship (not the ship) sometimes since her master isn't as laid back as Anakin.
Alpha opens his eyes to darkness and the sound of water dripping just at the edges of his hearing, loud enough to be maddening but not loud enough for him to pinpoint its source. There’s something oddly familiar about it in a way that makes his skin crawl.
The moisture in the air clings to his skin, makes him feel like he’s a cadet again, tilting his face towards the brilliantly clear sky on the few days it wasn’t storming incessantly on Kamino. But there’s something palpably wrong here; despite the moisture, the air feels… dead.
His neck prickles. Even without the Force, he can sense the tension running thick, and something deadly beneath that. Even that feels familiar somehow; he frowns, still not fully able to piece everything together but acutely aware that when he does, he won’t like what he finds.
Something unpleasantly warm slides down his face. He moves to wipe it off while he assesses his surroundings, and -
A clatter of metal, a burning sensation he remembers all too clearly - manacles grinding against skin rubbed bloody and raw - and Alpha now knows with absolute certainty where he is.
Because the thing is, General Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn’t the only one rescued from Rattatak.
Panic seizes his chest, and it’s all Alpha can do to keep from screaming then.
The blood sliding down his face runs into his mouth. He spits, trying to forget the taste and the fear and the pain of half-healed wounds littering his body. He can feel the blood seeping from fresh gouges that cut into muscle - wounds that will never fully heal, that will ultimately see him relegated to Kamino because he is no longer fit for the front lines.
His ragged breathing echoes in the damp cell as he tries to force back the panic so he can just think for a moment. They escaped last time - he and the general, they managed to fight their way out and commandeer a shuttle. He thinks he remembers where the landing platform is. Rattatak is nothing but a warren of tunnels beneath the surface, but he remembers their path vividly.
He just might pull it off, even in his weakened state. There’s a short window of time when the guards’ shifts don’t overlap - he hates that he knows that - time it right, and he’ll be off this cesspit.
No sooner does the thought cross his mind than distant footsteps reverberate through the corridor, and the door opens with an awful squeal of long disused hinges. Alpha raises his chin so he can look her in the eye when she crosses the threshold. It’s more than the hut’uun deserves, but he’d sworn to himself that if he were to die here, it would be on his terms.
It was always something about her eyes that unnerved him. He’d never admit it, of course, but there was just nothing in them; no warmth, light, whatever Kenobi would’ve called it.
She should know by now that she won’t get anything out of him. In three weeks, he hasn’t divulged any of the information she’s been seeking. It won’t last much longer, their little dance, but he finds some perverse enjoyment in antagonizing her along the way. He always pays dearly for it in the end, but… well, it keeps him sane.
He’s preparing his next angle of attack when the knife falls for the first time. The first spatter of blood splashes to the floor, and the cycle begins again.
He thinks that’s when he finally screams.
Alpha wakes to a hand on his shoulder and the sound of his brother’s voice. He pulls away instinctively, waiting for newly formed scabs on his wrists to tear again, for the knife to drag through his skin.
But it never comes.
Instead Fordo rocks back on his heels, eyes shadowed with worry. It takes conscious effort on Alpha’s part to look at his brother without seeing the cell on Rattatak behind him.
“Hey,” Fordo says softly.
“Me’ven?” Alpha asks like it isn’t painfully obvious.
A wry smile flashes across Fordo’s face. “Thought you might appreciate it.” His face softens as he studies Alpha. “Rattatak?”
“‘Lek.”
“You had a rough time,” Fordo says, and if it was coming from anyone else Alpha probably wouldn’t let something like that fly, but this is Fordo, and he understands. “It’s bound to happen.”
Alpha studies the blank wall behind his brother’s head. “Maybe.”
“No shame in it.”
“Have you been talking to the Jetiise again?” Alpha demands, teasing now that he feels like he can breathe.
Fordo scoffs. “Natural talent, ner vod.”
“I wouldn’t go that far…”
“Oh, budge over, you lump.”
Without waiting for a response, Fordo makes himself at home in Alpha’s bunk, shoving Alpha’s legs aside in the process. Alpha watches it unfold, simultaneously befuddled and amused. Once he manages to squeeze himself in, Fordo scoots closer to Alpha like they’re six years old again.
“I was lonely,” Fordo says, correctly interpreting the look on Alpha’s face.
“I’m sure you were,” Alpha says drily, but he finds he’s not particularly inclined to push Fordo away just yet.
“I’ll go away eventually,” Fordo promises. The sincerity of it is undercut by how his voice is muffled by Alpha’s shoulder, and Alpha has to roll his eyes at his brother and his methods.
It’ll be a while yet before he can forget what took place after Jabiim, but for now, he chooses to relax with the weight of his vod against him and the steady rhythm of his breathing. Fordo’s a pain in the shebs when he wants to be, but there’s something about his presence now that’s reassuring all the same.
Alpha closes his eyes and lets the sound of his brother’s soft inhalations lull him to sleep.
Another alpha and fordo ask- just one comforting the other after a shit show of a campaign, fordo is the only one who can hug 17 and live to say so
Here we see one (1) emotionally intelligent vod trying to have a conversation with his brother who is determined to avoid it at all costs lest he experience one (1) Emotion.™️
Somehow, nothing is smashed or broken or otherwise permanently damaged.
Taglist (which is open as always!): @merspots @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @delta-the-mando @dudewhynotthis @a-lil-perspective @or-te-ka-ra uhhh probably missing people as usual
Alpha never has to guess when the Muunilist 10 are on-planet; they arrive in a riot of high spirits, swiftly establish their presence, and seem intent on turning Coruscant on its unsuspecting head. Much like their commanding officer, they have a penchant for trouble and the know-how to back it up when they run across someone less than accommodating.
Alpha takes it all in from a distance. The last campaign left him wrung out with a fresh list of injuries to attend to at a later date and further disillusioned with Jedi command to boot. For once, the prospect of a stint on Triple Zero isn’t altogether unappealing.
Unsurprisingly, Fordo finds him within hours of his squad’s return. His second-in-command makes himself scarce with a knowing look.
“So,” Alpha says, noting the pain that lances through his shoulder when he grips his brother’s wrist in greeting, “what’s your damage?”
Fordo flashes him a wry grin. “The usual. Mission went well, all things considered.”
Alpha gives in to the renewed throbbing in his arm and tests his range of motion as he says, “Wish I could say the same.”
Fordo’s jaw tightens in sympathy. “I thought I heard something about Kenobi’s latest escapade going sideways.”
“Understatement,” Alpha mutters.
“That bad?”
Alpha chooses to let his brother fill in the gaps for himself rather than answer. It’s hardly unheard of at this point in the war, missions going every shade of wrong and then some, but it never gets any easier.
Fordo searches his face. “Nothing we can do but look to the next one.”
Fair enough. Alpha shrugs before he remembers even the slightest movements send new lines of pain through his arm.
Fordo rolls his eyes. “Shoulder. Show.”
“Don’t you have someone else to fuss over?” Alpha grumbles.
His brother flashes a crooked grin. “You know I’m a mother tooka at heart. It’ll only be a pinch, vod’ika.”
“Gods, you’re a pain.”
“An honor and privilege, ner vod.”
Fordo takes Alpha’s wrist without waiting for a response. Alpha lets him do as he pleases - partly for amusement’s sake, partly out of curiosity, and partly because his brother isn’t shy when it comes to cuffing unruly vode.
Fordo isn’t yet finished with whatever evaluation he’s conducting when he says, “You’re angry about it, aren’t you?”
“You’ll have to narrow that down for me, ner vod.”
“The war.” Fordo pauses like he’s choosing an angle of attack rather than hesitating. “You’ve been angry about it for a while.”
“Someone’s been taking lessons from the Jetiise.”
“You’re not alone,” his brother says quietly.
Alpha meets his gaze squarely. “You said it yourself - nothing we can do but move on.”
“Maybe,” Fordo concedes. “Doesn’t mean we have to like it, though.”
“No, but then no one bothers to ask what we think.”
Fordo barks out a rough laugh. Then, before Alpha registers what’s going on, his brother’s arms are around him in a bone-crushing snare that might be an embrace. Under any other circumstances Alpha would likely push him away, but -
Well, Fordo’s always been stubborn.
“Satisfied?” Alpha grumbles halfheartedly after Fordo releases him.
“Aww, are you worried about ruining your reputation?” Fordo teases. “Don’t worry, vod’ika, I won’t tell.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Fordo laughs again. “Come on, vod. I’m sure Maze won’t mind manning the desk for a while.”
areudirty
snowghoul
theartofmadeline
dededos
