#chalacta

[phoenixyfriend]

Do we want to assume that Chalactan food has a lot in common with Indian?

I want Anakin getting shepherded to Depa's apartment once in a while because he is In Love with her spice rack.

Shmi has so many spices in the background of the home shots. I just know Anakin is used to those complex many-spiced North African meals.

[sw5w]

The Jedi Exchange Worried Looks

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:25:20

[d3epfriedangels]

SW Culture Week preview! Depa Billaba, Chalacta and Diwali!

[katethecrazy]

Anvi Rai - Redesign

OC - Mine!

Masterlist

here's a reintroduction to my oc, senator anvi rai of chalacta. here's she's in her senatorial gown (think the equivelent to padme's "box hair" look or her aotc senate look). in contrast to my last picture of her, i took a lot more inspiration from depa billaba, (as far as i know) the only chalactan who has appeared on screen and/or in an animated show. i just really leaned into the pearls on her face and came up with the idea that the more noble the background someone has, the more pearls they don. i also had an idea that they'd incorperate them into fashion and hairstyles, hence the pearls in her braids. i also decided to give her a very similar hairstyle as depa, but with just one braid loop. and i took inspiration for her outfit from some reference pics reblogged by @/royalhandmaidens.

i'll definitely be posting about her more so keep an eye out for that. i'm just really getting into her story and her development from a kind, but yielding senator to a strong, confident leader.

btw i've also changed her face claim to yasmine al-bustami.

art taglist (link to form in pinned post!): @notreallybeccab @remadster

(reblogs are love! 💛✨)

[b-radley66]

Preview: Thou Soul of Love and Bravery—The Enclave

Next to last chapter. Posts Monday.

<b>Chalacta</b>

<b>1.5 Years after the Fall of the Republic</b>

Ahsoka steps out of her shuttle on the edge of the landing field, near the small town. She turns away from the town and looks into the middle distance, across fertile fields. Her focus sharpens on the large stone and wood structure on the other side of the neat fields. A dozen or so figures toil in those fields. She smiles as she hears the melodious voices rise in song.

She checks her datapad. <i>The Collective of the Adept-Apostates</i>.

“May be committing some apostasy yourself, Snips.” she whispers. For what seems like the millionth time, the recall of a nickname causes her mind and heart to twist in pain. As always, her mind tracks down the list.

<i>Runt</i>recalls warm green eyes and a crooked grin, whose owner had moved beyond fellow-Force user. <i>‘Soka,</i> instantly reminds her of the patient, dry tones of a Kamino-born and war-bred Captain, who had put her in her place as a young shiny, then had grown to follow her and trust her.

She thinks of her new nickname—a nickname to hide her identity as she moves across the galaxy, trying to help anyone and everyone fight against the darkness. <i>Fulcrum</i>. A codename already whispered in far corners of the galaxy. She grins. <i>Might be losing it soon, since you didn’t let Bail know you were coming here</i>. Coming to a world outside of the Outer Rim, known for its spiritual people. One that may harbor a being who has a deeper connection to the universe around her. One like her own.

Ahsoka realizes that she has walked all the way to the fields. “Great, dumbass. Great way to get yourself ended,” she whispers to herself. She starts as she realizes that the workers in the fields are looking at her curiously. An older woman, her calm serenity recalling Shaak Ti, approaches her.

The woman dips her head, bringing her hand to her forehead. Ahsoka realizes that there are two scars there, where others of her people would have jewels. Jewels of enlightenment of the Chalactan Adepts. Two would indicate that this woman had once held the highest rank.

She mimics the gesture.

[phoenixyfriend]

Me holding Depa in my hands and staring at Chalacta like "Can I argue that she knows how to dance Bharatanatyam" (Classic, Fusion)

I just love fusion styles in dance and music and fashion, and I want to imagine that Obi-Wan can do Scottish-Japanese fusion in the line of Taiko-Bagpipes. I can't find the one I saw that has actual Japanese people doing the Taiko part but something like this.

[b-radley66]

Snippet: Thou Soul of Love and Bravery

Few chapters away.

Ahsoka’s stomach is rumbling with the anticipation of bad bar food. She grins at something that Taliesin Croft had said before. Anything is better than even good Republic ration paste or sticks.

She curses as the memories well. Up until a few months ago, she had managed to keep her dreams and the memories at bay, as she tried to hide and find her purpose.

They had all come back with a rush after Raada. She had silenced them, or at least suppressed them, by keeping moving. By staying busy in her new job.

As she is about to enter the fine establishment, she hears raised voices. “You’re a damned fool, you old bastard. You owe me money for those spice permits I arranged for you,” comes a deep voice. A large young Chalactan, his clothes a mix of laborer and businessman stares down at a slightly smaller, but much less bulkier human. The Chalactan’s double jewels quiver in his forehead.

“Just because you call yourself the Mayor, doesn’t mean you can boss me around, Asri,” says the older human male.

“Yeah, Showim. You’ve been spending too much time with those free-loading non-Jeweled freaks at their little zoo,” he said.

Something about the name tweaks a memory. Ahsoka shakes her head as her stomach rumbles.

In a quick quarter hour, she is enjoying a large glass of that dark, spicy Mando ale that is a favorite, which does little to quell the fire in her gut. Fire she hasn’t felt in months. She grins as she tears through the plate of nuna wings.

A shadow falls over her table. She allows her expression to grow thunderous as the old fool from the argument sits down. Her eyes widen as she sees his face clearly.

She is transported back to a time when she was eight years old. A much younger, and kindlier version of the face, splints her broken arm after a disagreement with one of the higher tree limbs in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

She sighs, keeping one hands on her blaster under her left arm. “I’d like to eat in peace,” she says.

“Kind of hard to do with our kind these days,” he says.

“What do you mean, our kind?” she asks.

“Don’t play the innocent with me, girl,” he says, his slightly demented eyes focusing sharply on her. “I have an idea what you are. Kinda fuzzy on who you are. Kinda young for a knight, though. Padawan?”

“Neither. Didn’t get a chance.”

His eyes widen in recognition.  “Oh. So you’re that Padawan. Don’t know the full story. Don’t care. You need to march your skinny ass back to your ship and get the hell out of here. There are people here I want to keep safe. An actual functioning Force-sensitive might bring harm on them.”

“Oh, yeah? Don’t know how I could do much more than you, old man. Picking fights with the local government? Good way to stay off the Imps’ sensors.”

“I know you now. I treated you. You were a smartassed little shit who broke her arm falling out of some place she wasn’t supposed to be.”

She grins. “Yeah, well I remember you as a kind doctor who helped me stop crying.”

He slumps. “That healer is dead,” he whispers.

She nods, calming. “I know who you are and what you did. Doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“Maybe. But there is someone I want you to meet. Someone who might be my salvation, or at least the start of it. Go out to the biggest trees. There is an old YT-1000 parked out there. The person who you’re looking for is there.” He looks down. “She won’t be able to help you that much, though.”

She pays for her meal, swallows the last of her ale. She starts to pull her poncho on to leave, but stops at his voice.

“I lied, young one. You were very sweet and brave. I didn’t have to do much to stop your crying.” He pats her shoulder awkwardly.

She can only nod as she turns away.

After a moment, Garda Showim gets up and walks to the bar. He pockets the medical sample collector. She had felt nothing on the bare skin of her shoulder with the mild anesthetic.“Damned Jedi,” he mutters.

As he passes a table, Mayor Asri’s ears perk up. He smiles a cadaver-like smile. He drops a coin on the table and walks out, pulling his comm out as he does.