#kel dor lore

[exosorcery]

KELDEORIN'YAA WORD OF THE DAY

TRANSLATION -

"My dearest child! Can you say MOMMA? MOM-MAH?

"Mmmm! The soup is yummy, isn't it? Can you say soup? SOOOOP?

"Can you say my little nonsense baby? Shit. Maybe that's too hard..."

"SHIT!!"

ERTAANHI - "MY DEAREST CHILD."

SASKA - WORD FOR ONE'S OWN MOTHER, SPECIFICALLY.

RIYI - TO SPEAK (Vb.)

TVOISI - SOUP

TVALAZA - YUMMY

DAKIDAKAANHI - "MY LITTLE NONSENSE BABY"

NIN ARAKOV'NE ZE NYI - MAYBE TOO DIFFICULT, THAT IS.

KYA - THIS IS PLACED AT THE END OF A SENTENCE TO TURN IT INTO A QUESTION... A VERBAL QUESTION MARK.

VEK - SHIT

Seeing as I've been away for a bit, I figured a full-on language lesson might be in order.

Here we go!

I must confess, I have a thing for Kel' Dor youngsters. Who doesn't?

Everyone who has kids (or kid brothers and sisters) 100% HAS HAD this happen to them. Dadaa is supposedly easier to say than Momma... but apparently ANY swear word you can think of is easier than either of them. We weren't allowed to swear as kids, or even teens - but they didn't have to hear us to know we did, because our newly verbal baby sister (in particular) would do things like point at us at dinner exclaiming "Sit! Sit!!" (which was SHIT). Or, after she got a little vocabulary under her belt, would be waking them up at 3 AM saying things like "Dammit, Mummy -wake up!" Or, "Fuck! My bottle!" (as it dropped out of her crib). Ah, the memories 😬

I love the formal way KD's speak. Keldeorin'yaa is very unembellished and literal. Yet their endearments for their little ones are utterly precious.

Mum will have some explaining to do at dinner, I think.

I can hear it all the way from here. "Vek, Vekkk!"

Explore all the language - and all the language rules - here! keldeorinyaa conlang dictionary - Google Sheets

...by the one and only @plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows.

Have a cool day! - KC

[dukeoftheblackstar]

Wondering why Ms. Pretty Ithia Paan does not have tusks.

Meanwhile, Sha Koon:

Maybe it's not a gender thing. Maybe it's a tribe / kin thing. Or maybe Ithia lost her tusks? Maybe it's an age thing for female Kel Dors?

Also, happy to see that Ithia's mask isn't Plo's design because it supports the fact the whole intricacies of familiar crests and stuff ♥.

I shall watch you this weekend, pretty Miss.

[veny-many]

It was necessary feature to let the Plo say basics, but I still can't get out of 'only speaking Kel-Dor Plo Koon' because that will be so much meaning.

I mean, Plo was originally speaking only Kel-Dor in making of the Clone wars. But since our friend Filoni wanted Plo to have more and more screen time and lore, they decided to let Plo speak basic.

If you can read Star wars(1998) Comics, you can find why Plo was speaking Kel-Dor at first.

In comics, the difference of languages can be seen in text balloons shapes. Like this, you can recognize Plo speaking in Kel-Dor balloons and his Master Tyvokka, who is Wookiee, speaking Shyriiwook which can be recognized as between brackets.

And you can see his niece Sha Koon is also speaking same Kel-Dor.

I have no idea how they can communicate with other Jedis with their language, but since they were Jedis, what is impossible.

Well actually there was a moment Plo actually had trouble when he spoke Kel-Dor to others.

Like this, in Star wars Clone wars adventure.

Clone troopers couldn't understand Kel-Dor at first, but somehow, they provided the help Plo needed, and their Commander even understood Plo's meaning.

And I am curious about Kel-Dor, how they can communicate with others...

Perhaps they are using telepathic ability? To let their friends to understand their speaking more smoothly?

Btw since Plo's padawan Bultar and his friend Ahsoka learned Kel-Dor as well and could speak with him, so does that mean Wolfpack also learned some Kel-Dor? Right?

Please say Koh-to-yah wolfves, just one time in canon and I will gladly die in peace and happiness, no I mean I will revive after that and keep loving you all.

[dukeoftheblackstar]

@daimyosprincess I can never not think of Ex-libris for anything academia-related posts. So excuse me while I also now indulge in daydreaming about Professor Plo Koon cause miss'ma'am, Ex-libris is ingrained in my brain. Thank you.

tried explaining star wars fandom to my dad and settled on the simile that sw is too big and fucked up to know everything and you sort of have to choose a major like mando lore studies or jedi lineage trees and then we all come together but do not get along just like real academia. anyway what’s ur major

[indignantlemur]

hello, I have a bit of an odd question. For each species culture in Star Trek do you think would fit in Star wars? I think the andorians and Klingons fit with the mandalorians. What do you think?

Have a nice day.

Hello! This is a fun question!

I'm gonna narrow the scope a little, because if I did every Star Trek species we'd be here forever, but I'll try to hit all the main ones.

Andorians: I could see Andorians fitting neatly into the realm of Pantoran or Chiss characters pretty easily, and what little we know about the Chiss feels a lot like it could parallel Andorians in their earlier, more isolationist histories. I particularly feel like the rigid social structures of the Chiss and their military philosophies would fit quite nicely with Andorian values. Likewise, Pantorans share some similarities with Andorians, like exceptional hearing and coloration. Additionally, the tradition of garnering tattoos to indicate family and allegiance amongst Pantorans does feel similar to Andorian chitin patterns.

Humans: Humans across all universes are pretty much the same, let's be honest. If you take an average Star Trek Human civilian and plonk them down on an average Core World in the 'Wars universe, they'll do just fine.

Vulcans: Of all the species, I feel like Vulcans prove to be excellent candidates for Jedi recruitment, but that's not actually a species, so: Kel Dor. Hear me out: they have sages, they're largely mysterious, they are on the whole very force sensitive (psychically powerful) and they keep much of their culture and traditions to themselves. It's a stretch, admittedly, but I think it kind of works.

Trill: Phydolons feel like a good match. They're a symbiotic species which form a kind of gestalt consciousness between a mammalian host and a fungal symbiote, who value wisdom and spirituality.

Klingons: The Noghri might not feel like the most immediate option to come to mind, but bear with me. Noghri are skilled warriors who utilise technology and an array of natural weapons and defenses, place high value on honour, and function societies built upon familial clans. It's not as much of a stretch as you might think, looking at that. Just as the Klingons are honed for war, the Noghri are uniquely suited for combat - though the Noghri are most well known for being assassins, rather than front-line warriors.

Orions: The Falleen, hands down. Green skin, dark hair, known to use powerful pheromones to influence others, regularly associated with major crime syndicates... it's hard not to see the parallels. It's tempting to say Twi'leks here, but honestly I feel the Falleen are a much better match.

Ferengi: Muun in general, and the Banking Clan in particular. Muun are extremely intelligent and naturally gifted at mathematics, and while the Banking Clan gives them something of a negative reputation, most Muun are pretty decent folks. Sounds familiar? Wildly different physiologies aside, I think the Ferengi and the Muun have a surprising amount in common.

Tellarites: It would be incredibly lazy to say Gamorreans here, so I won't. Truthfully, with the minimal lore on Tellarites that we have to work with, finding an equivalent for them in the Star Wars universe is a bit tricky. I'd be inclined to say the Gran, perhaps, for their colonial tendencies and agricultural leanings, but even that feels very weak to me.

Mandalorians: Mandalorians are not a species but diverse individuals who follow a shared creed, and therefore I don't feel it sensible to include it with any of the above options which are based on species. Additionally, there are at least four kinds of Mandalorians, which further complicates the issue: Death Watch, the Children of the Watch, the True Mandalorians, and the New Mandalorians. Your choices narrow down to child-abducting-hyper-militant-terrorist group, weirdly-genetically-homogenous/militant-pacifist group, militant-but-mostly-reasonable-and-kinda-culty group, and a virtually non-existent faction of militant golden-age-Mandos-cut-down-before-their-time. With all of these, your mileage may vary wildly. I could see Vulcans being attracted to the New Mandalorian philosophies, I suppose, and Andorians would probably be all over the True Mandalorian option, but it's hard to say more beyond that outside of individual circumstance.

Thanks for the ask!

[curiostars]

day 2 of albatross crew posting until people care about my skrunklies. pulling an older sketch from the archives of Strill during the war. ignore the kel dor in the corner.

Today’s Lore Fact: Strill thought a strill was a kind of bird when he picked his name. It turns out he was mixing them up with jaig hawks. This is definitely not because I made the same mistake.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 4]

Gif chosen for the bandages on his left shoulder just like in the fic, but he’d have to lose the top to be more fic-accurate lol

Warnings & Information: Intended audience is 13+ (18 if you squint.) Star Wars and real world swearing. More lighthearted chapter than 3. Tryin' real hard to avoid certain fanon characterizations of the Batchers. This whole series is absolutely RIFE with my personal headcanons. Chapter mentions use of "bastardized-Mando'a" for the purpose of having a secret conversation, but translatable words are used. References to medical paraphernalia: stitches, bacta, etcetera. Hunter is strongly implied to be shirtless for the whole chapter. References to medical and recreational drugs. [It took me an embarrassingly long time to finally understand what "spice" was often slang for. There's so much lore to keep track of lmao.] Medic!Reader is invited to have dinner with the Batchers. Hurt and comfort in various forms take place. Brief implications of Medic!Reader having her own bad memories of war and related injuries but it's kept vague. Brief, strong implications of the brothers' having PTSD tendencies. Chapter ends on a light note, I promise.

Word-count: 6,360

Fwreep! Fwreep! Fwre-

"Hush, you." [____] scolded her equipment, mashing the button to silence the alert. She was tired, the inevitable adrenaline crash had finally taken hold and she wanted to do little else than jump into a short shower cycle and then hit the spare cot for fifteen minutes or so in the cramped back room of her clinic that served as an office, chemical lab (and a panic room in the worst cases back when she dealt with the pirates). Hunter had been saved, scanned, sent home about three and a half hours ago, and put on a strict regimen of rest and a short course of antiemetics, painkillers and sleeping aids once the transfusion was completed and he'd had half a carton of jogan juice for his blood sugar levels. 

After they had gone home so Hunter could get some rest (and told he should have some type of lean red meat or eggs if he felt he could eat something), [____] had decided she might as well open the clinic to the public for the rest of the day, even as tired as she now was.

She just had to wait another minute for the analysis to finalize for an elderly Kel Dor client, and then she could have a half-hour on that thin, stiff mattress before she'd have the energy to make it through the last two hours of business and then make her way home. She'd wash up then, she told herself. Better water pressure and the perfect temperature settings waiting for her. Yeah… that sounded nice. Maker, she was so tired, but the energy spent to save Hunter had been well worth it. The analysis looked good enough and passable for the Kel Dor's health to visit their native planet, so she made a note to send a message in the morning, mind otherwise occupied with the events aboard the Marauder; she and the second skin of bacta she slathered on the sergeant had likely found everything. Hunter would be fine. His brothers and sister were going to take good care of him. 

She'd done a good job, ignoring the rookie mistakes. He was probably, hopefully resting now. She could probably do the same and allow herself to sleep were it not for a comlink and a single three-syllable chirp shortly after she hit the cot and closed her eyes, tugging a blanket just up to her shoulder. 

Oh, stars: that was Omega's calling-quirk. 

She sat up slightly, elbow bent at a lazy angle to prop herself up just enough to keep her head off the pillow. Keep herself from falling asleep. "Omega? What's the matter?" 

"Hunter recently woke up from his nap and won't take the medicine." 

Perhaps selfishly, [____] tried shifting the burden of help to someone else, not quite yet pulling the thin, scratchy blanket from around her body as she sat up a bit more. Maybe Omega was having a little difficulty doing this on her own and just called her on the comlink in a panic. "Can you get Tech to do it, hun?" Tech had it handled, she was sure. Maybe Omega just needed a little advice and then she could have a thirty minute snooze. No such luck.

"Tech already tried…" Omega's voice was in a high whine, unassured. "Hunter wouldn't listen to him."

The blanket was now off and she was fully upright. Would asking Crosshair and all his occasional stubbornness be worth stressing Hunter? No, not a good idea. Could Wrecker be persuaded to make a brief show of strength to encourage Hunter to take the medicine under his own power? Unlikely. Echo… well, she could hear the ARC's voice in a rumble of speech with or to Hunter, but couldn't pick out any words. He was probably trying to bargain with their leader, if [____] had to make a guess. Talk sense into him. Something. She didn't know why Hunter wasn't taking the medicine, she realized. And now it'd just be easier to go and see why for herself; her concern and curiosity and sense of duty to her profession was too high to ignore now. Maybe there was something she missed… something that was hurting Hunter that she hadn't yet treated? Some means of comfort she didn't yet provide?

"I'll be there soon." 

Memories of that night a week ago were coming back to her: Cross opened the blastdoor for her when she reached the stoop. She squeezed inside past him. He offered her a blue ration bar and glass of water (citing that Tech had taken notice of (and kindly cleaned up for her) the hastily abandoned stew, meaning she'd never finished lunch). He'd be waiting for her in the common room.

She made her way to the common room, uncertain what she would find.

Hunter was collapsed slightly spread-eagle into the furniture, half dressed, and looking clammy and miserable. The position could have been described as lordly if he didn't look so unwell. There was a faraway look in his eyes under bunched brows and the light rasp of his breath. The medicine she'd given him aboard the Marauder had likely begun to wear off (he likely metabolized it differently due to his genetic profile, something she hadn't gotten around to asking Tech about and merely theorized) and the now-late dosage of the prescribed coursework was set on the low table, waiting. He was probably beginning to feel the pain and didn't seem to realize she was there.

Omega rushed the medic in a flash from some unknown area of their housing, dashing across the room in great relief. "[____]! You're here!"

Wrapping her arms around the youngster, the urgent hug was returned with warmth and comfort. Reassurance. "Hey-hey, easy sweetie. It's okay. I'm here to help as long as Hunter needs me." 

"What about your clinic since you decided to open for a part of the day? These are still your standard hours of operation-" Tech checked his statement against information on his datapad, forgoing a greeting and expressing some of his concerns, which didn't bother the shared friend of the Batch, "- so do you have any kind of proper signage that you are not available to potential patients now that you're back on the planet?" 

"Heh… yes, Tech, I made sure to turn on my sign that I'm on a house-call. Don't worry. I didn't forget this time, so there won't be any negative reviews to scrub from the Holonet tonight." She let go of Omega, grabbing a little penlight and the medicine canisters from the table, asking for Echo to start dimming half of the overhead lights for her so Hunter would no longer have to squint.

"I-I've done no such thing, [____]," Tech offered unconvincingly, the usual crisp eloquence of his voice faltering. "That would be-"

She hardly ever interrupted Tech, but for once it couldn't be helped; her laugh was light and bubbly, catching him by surprise. "You know that I know, Tech. It's okay. Now… let's see if we can't find a way to get Hunter to take his medicine now that I'm here. Thanks for the water, Cross. Just set the ration bar in my bag for now, please. Since you guys put all his medicine on the table I just need to make sure I've picked up the right two…" she flicked the portable light source over the labels of the medicine, the painkiller and anti-emetic. "yup- perfect. Just what I need." 

"Who's tha'? ...a-ad'ika?" Hunter mumbled drowsily, wincing in the soft halo of light from the thin cylindrical device in her hand. Before setting it down, she turned off the light and began pinching open the blister-packaging to the painkiller. "Sorry; hey, it's me, big guy. A little someone tells me we're not taking our medicine. What's going on, Hunter? Pain medication wearing off? Queasy?" He was looking a little disoriented and confused, fresh out of a restless sleep typical of the medicines she'd administered. "No, jus'... not really? Oh, [____]... Wh-when did y'get here?" 

Hunter's confused and woozy smile was to be expected, the medicine cocktails tended to alter one's demeanor and awareness, but stars, if it wasn't at least a little cute seeing him perk up like this at the sight of her. He looked so deliriously delighted once he realized who it was. "Not too long ago. Came because Omega made it sound like everyone needed a little help with you and I wanted to see how I could help."

"Oh…" Hunter started, sounding surprised.

"Shh, take it easy-" She pushed back on his chest carefully, avoiding the large patch of gauze and stitching hidden underneath it, and Hunter realized he had been trying to get up; her hand burned with the coldness of her clinic against his warm, bare skin. The chill felt so welcome against the almost uncomfortable warmth he was feeling - it's why he'd peeled himself out of the top half of his blacks no matter how many times Crosshair dressed and redressed him. Was it the start of fever? Or simply just more side effects of the good doctor's medicine? His senses simply just overstimulated? Why did keeping on his top matter so much regarding ifs about popping a stitch with them uncovered or not: [____] was just a comlink away to come and take care of it. She was a good baar'ur… anyone would be lucky to have someone as sweet as her for a medic.

A sweet, lovely woman… Good and kind [____]. 

"Take it easy, Hunter… let's have one of your brothers help you if you want to sit up before you take your medicine. You're pretty out of it, still, have to be gentle with your movement, okay?" 

Hunter obliged obediently, just looking at her and Crosshair as he stepped around one of the other brothers to come closer. Mostly [____]. "Are you saying Hunter's stoned?" Crosshair mused lazily, a smile dragging in those words over the doctor's shoulder before he lifted the upper half of Hunter's body from the backrest of the furniture by his armpits. Cross was kind and said nothing about the bit of sweat that his hands came away with once Hunter was sitting up. (He'd tease his brother for looking so gross when they had company over when he was feeling better another time, perhaps.) 

"Sedated would be more accurate, medically speaking… but yeah, I guess it does rather look a lot like being stoned. Doesn't look like we're getting much free entertainment like some Weequay pilots who told me they used a little too much spices in their cooking about fifteen rotations ago, though." There were some stifled chuckles from Tech, Echo and Cross around her, and Wrecker boomed with unabashed laughter, to her great confusion. She didn't think her light teasing of the semi-stoic sergeant was that funny. "W-what's so funny, boys?"

Crosshair burst the bubble for their friend, careful not to roll his eyes in a way that made it appear like annoyance of her naïvety. "Those pilots weren't talking about culinary spices, doll. Spice pirates deal in drugs. They probably pulled one of the oldest tricks in the book: lying to the medic about what kind of spices they put in the spice-cookie. It's slang."

[____] just blinked stupidly up at the stoic marksman. "R-really?" Was he messing with her? He didn't look like he was messing with her. (Was he messing with her and just had the galaxy's best poker face?) "You're… b-being serious with me, right?" Crosshair nodded plainly.

"Did you really not know?" Tech asked incredulously. 

"N-no! I thought it was exotic or illegal ingredients this whole kriffing time…" she admitted, feeling so foolish. This whole time she thought spice smugglers dealt in illegal and rare or unusual culinary ingredients. Stars, how embarrassing! 

"Well… if it makes you feel any better, maybe there are pirates out there who are carrying food spices across the galaxy. Yuh never know." Wrecker offered, giving Tech a pointed look when he had put up a finger to say something on that in that clipped voice of his. "Maybe, uh… m-maybe they're like supply runners! Getting spices from someone's homeworld tha' they can't find anywhere else when they feel homesick. A taste of home does someone some good." The idea of it sounded kinda sweet when Wrecker put it like that, something he was good at. He was always so good at trying to find ways to cheer up one of his brothers before they took Omega in as one of their own, and since she'd joined their fold, he'd gotten better at it, according to Crosshair's admittance in-confidence some time ago. (But if the medic told anyone he said that, Cross warned her he would likely deny it if only to spur on his bigger brother to try to refine the quality even further.)

Finally turning her attention back to Hunter, who had been sitting up with just a slight wobble in the last few minutes, [____] emptied the packet into the palm of her hand, producing two pearlescent blue pills that would keep the pain's edge dull and nipping at his heels with puppy teeth instead of fangs. "Here, let's start with the painkillers first. Unless you want to take the anti-emetic so you don't risk feeling like you're about to waste the oral painkillers."

Hunter looked mildly panicked about that possibility, the richness of his warm eyes lost in a worry he hadn't considered until now. The guilt, the embarrassment, for throwing up in Cross's arms before they had made it to the clinic flared up yet again. "The e-emetic…" 

"Okay, we'll take the anti-emetic instead then. Probably should have started with it first anyways. Here… let's get this one open and ready for ya." Speaking soothingly, [____] tucked the pearlescent medicine back into its torn packaging and picked up the other, keeping her voice within that casual cadence. "Just have to let this one dissolve under your tongue; like the melt-away I gave Omega." Distrustful or disgusted looks regarding the thin off-white tablet fell away quickly, and the leader of Clone Force 99 took the prescription item from the medic and tucked it under the fleshy muscle as demonstrated. "Good, just like that. Shouldn't take long to dissolve under your tongue, then we can try these to keep that pain under control." 

"Tas'es funny…" Hunter mumbled carefully, afraid to disturb the dissolving puddle of moistened powder sitting under his tongue. She picked the datapad off her belt clip, glancing over the prescribed coursework for something. "Ah, let's see here… Not a big fan of the candy-like flavoring? I'm afraid it was the only one I had available to prescribe for the time, sorry Hunter. If you don't like it, I'll make a note to avoid it in the future." 

Hunter started to shrug, but felt the stitching on his left shoulder begin to tug unpleasantly with the motion and quickly abandoned that. "Mmp… 's  fine…" It wasn't that bad, he could tolerate it - he didn't want to trouble her over something trivial after everything else. [____] delicately pecked her fingers along the screen of her datapad for just a moment longer, and then clipped it back to her belt without a word, picking up the painkillers and gingerly planting them into his palm. He was quickly stopped by her clamping her free hand above his when he began to pull it back as she reached behind her and grabbed the glass Crosshair had gotten from the kitchen for her to take a small swig of water. "...whu's wrong?" 

"Maybe don't dry-swallow those; they're a rapid dissolve formula. Here… borrow some of my water." [____] held the cup she just drank from out to him, and both carefully ignored Crosshair's teasing quip about indirect kissing when Hunter carefully swallowed down the pair of pills with just enough water. Taking the cup back, she and Cross helped Hunter settle back against the backrest once more and made a note of the time. "Alrighty, good job big guy. I'll keep an eye on you while we wait for that to kick in, you just get comfortable. Let me know if something's still painful in about… ten minutes or so." Hunter nodded lazily, leaning his head back with a weary sigh. His nerves were still so overwhelmed- screaming, frayed and buzzing from the injuries and procedures carried out to treat them. His body ached and he sat there hoping the medicine would give him relief soon. 

"It's okay; fall asleep if you want to. If you can." [____] offered the permission softly, sounding strangely far away for being on the two-seater just a few feet away with Omega while hearing some of his brothers leave the common room. With careful effort Hunter lifted his head from the backrest and glanced over at sister and friend, seeing the former curled into the latter's side with Lula under one arm, studying the datapad with the medic. 

"What's this mean?" Omega inquired, brows pinching together in a scrutinizing expression that looked a lot like one of Echo's scowls for an amusing moment.

[____] laughed softly, a short oh! falling from her lips when she saw what his sister was pointing out. "That's just an unholy mix of a bunch of my personal jargon with the official medical jargon for the kinds of sutures I gave your brother. They're absorbable, meaning he won't have to come back to my clinic to have them removed. Now think back: do you remember what monofilament means?" 

While Omega was puzzling over the datapad for just a moment, the silence allowed the medic to tear open the wrapping to the food she'd been offered and eat it before it became forgotten and smushed among the items of her medbag. "Single strand structure. Like Tech's when you removed the shrapnel." Omega stated matter-of-factly, trying to emulate Tech's speech pattern. It made the medic chuckle before threading her fingers through the blond crop of hair under her chin with her free hand, setting down the half eaten blue travel-ration to do so. Omega adored having her hair played with by those she trusted. The intimacy and care behind such a gesture was proof to the brothers, drugged and undrugged alike in the room, that [____] was truly perfect for her profession. 

Care for one of their own, and you had the rest wrapped around your finger.

"Hey, [____]!" Wrecker called from the kitchen. "Stay for dinner with us! How do you like your meat?" 

The medic balked for a moment, looking surprised by the sudden invitation. "St-stay for dinner? Are you sure? I'd-"

"Awh, 'course! Got enough Kommerken steaks for everyone! Been dying to have these for a while now." Wrecker promised, flashing a jovial smile in the doorway. "You're probably gonna have to stay here to watch Hunter for a while after those ten minutes, right?" If he pointed this out, she'd surely agree to stay for dinner, and then some. Perhaps a game of Dejarik or a round of Sabacc if they could convince her. 

"Well, not necessarily in the way you're probably thinking…? I don't have to engage in any additional medical observation at this point. He'd be plenty fine in your capable hands between the five of you once I've headed home- and sure, I'll stay for dinner - I have faith in you guys." Sniper and ARC trooper shared a glance at Hunter, and then each other as she followed Wrecker into their kitchen. They knew they were thinking the same thing as Wrecker explained and showed the difference in the done-ness of the Kommerken steaks he could prepare for [____] with unfettered glee. They were probably going to have to tell her. 

Wrecker had told him that he let the Loth-cat out of the bag, but Echo knew that she didn't have the full picture. 

Hunter's often borderline-paranoid avoidant nature when it came to discomfort and conflict. 

The way he would run from as many problems as he faced. How he gave the clinic a wide berth unless absolutely unavoidable sometimes. How Hunter hesitated getting involved in directly confronting the Empire like Captain Rex every time it came up in conversation with Echo, and how Hunter dug in his heels on keeping the squad together when he expressed to Hunter wanting to do something to help their deserting brothers. The excessive caution that became stifling if he or Crosshair did not provide a little pushback when the time called for it. While he was often an excellent leader, he was terrible about dealing with emotional and mental discomfort since the safety net of the GAR was cut from under his feet on Kaller. 

And it was holding him back from telling [____] himself about how he really felt.

There'd be little chance she'd understand something outside of common phrases, so Echo figured perhaps some use of bastardized-Mando'a would be safe to use with the medic within earshot. "Gar ganar at rejorhaa'ir kaysh, vod." You have to tell her, brother.

A befuddled "Huh?" was all Hunter could think to say in response to the rough and mispronounced Mando'a. Tell her what? What was Echo getting at?

"Wrecker told her, aboard the Marauder," Echo whispered, squatting slightly to bring himself to Hunter's current eye level. "How you feel. A cuun burc'ya ru'kir susulur bic teh gar." But their friend should hear it from Hunter. The confession from his own lips and heart where he could finish pining over her in unspoken feelings and finally, finally, finally tell her. "Tell her, or I will. Or, I'll let Cross do it." Echo threatened in half seriousness, watching Hunter pale with realization.

"Oh goody, that would be fun, wouldn't it, Hunter?" Crosshair sneered, voice like poisoned honey in mischievous glee. For just a moment, Echo couldn't be sure if Cross was being threatening, or simply being a sibling. 

"N-no, please…" Hunter moaned, weakly pleading with his brothers with a wave of panic rising in his chest, "Don't! I just n-need a little time t-to… f-finish suhm'thin…" A letter. He had a letter he was trying to write… Crosshair would be stomping all over these carefully chosen words and thank yous and apologies to tell her how he felt if Echo was serious… "Gedet'ye, vod… Gedet'ye." Please don't do anything to blow this for him. He needed more time. 

Echo put his hand on Hunter's uninjured shoulder, leveling the end of his scomp with his brother with a pointed expression. "By the end of the week." 

"Hey Hunter! How do you want your Kommerken?!" 

Hunter blanched at the thought of food right now. While the anti-emetic was proving helpful for a turbulent stomach, he didn't think he'd take a chance on anything substantial like a slab of meat and the seasoned, fire-roasted root vegetables he could smell Tech preparing. "Tell him m'not hungry… Cross would you… grab my datapad from my beside?" Hunter should start proofreading that letter if he has two days, glancing at the wall with the calendar. Crosshair was down the hallway before he could change his mind. "Sure. I'll be right back so you can take a page out of Tech's book and study up. Tell Wreck I want mine bloody, Echo." 

"I'm not a waiter droid!" Echo called after him. Sighing, he straightened up and entered the kitchen to join Wrecker and relay the information. "Hunter's not in a state for food just yet. Crosshair wants his steak bloody. I'll take mine well-done, please." 

"Ha-hah! You got it! You want some, Omega?" 

"Ew…" Hunter heard her complain softly. The brothers were working on introducing her to more galactic cuisine they'd come across in their travels well before they met her, with mixed success. She didn't have the same adventurous stomach like Wrecker, but she would humor most of the more unusual offerings at least once when they could afford to be picky with a meal. "I don't know… I'll… try a little, I guess." 

"Atta girl. Don't worry, I'll grill up some nuna drumsticks for ya, too." Wrecker promised her before Omega said she was going to go to her room and work on something she started drawing the other night. Nuna legs were always a safe meal choice no matter where they traveled; the base flavor was almost always the same, perhaps slightly gamey depending on the planet, but otherwise it was prepared and served in a pretty universally uniform fashion. "You're not much of a fan of the Kommerken either, Tech, you want to go with some nuna tonight instead?" 

"If you don't mind." Tech murmured distractedly, turning the chunks of root vegetable individually on the other hotplate to ensure an even crisping. 

"Not at all!" Wrecker rolls his right shoulder once before he turns his attention back to the larger hotplate he's set up to make dinner for everyone. A twinge of pain in his face is not unnoticed by the woman wearing the insignia of galactic healthcare on her shoulder still. "Something happen to your shoulder, Wreck?" 

"Oh, I'm fine kid," he couldn't think up anything in particular from their mission with Captain Rex aboard the prisoner transport ship that caused the pain at the moment, so he couldn't be entirely certain it was anything from their earlier escapade, "don't worry about me… Please. We're more concerned about Hunter being taken care of right now." Wrecker's last words dropped into a low, careful rumble, so as not to be overheard by those outside of the kitchen. Tech nodded in agreement with the sentiment expressed. Ordinarily he would have scolded one of his brothers for neglecting injury or illness (not quite to the same, stern extent that Echo would), but today had nearly gone so south and sideways were it not for the woman currently shoulder-to-shoulder with Wrecker. 

If she hadn't been out there, drifting in space, aboard her medical craft and by some mercy of all holy deities in this galaxy near enough to the Havoc Marauder that they could take Hunter to her, Hunter may no longer be here. The bitter thought of one less brother almost coming to pass choked his throat unpleasantly. Their grievances could wait. Hunter would come first until everyone was satisfied he was recovered and it would be business as usual. 

[____] made a little rolling motion of her jaw in thought, and swallowed down the concerns clambering in her throat she wished to voice. "Okay," she said instead, voice almost regretful. "But I feel I should at least give you something for the pain so it's not bothering you while you're making dinner for everyone, at least." 

Before the sweet giant of a man could wave off the proposed offer, Tech waved to the thick, red-stitched patch affixed to the sleeve of the rumpled, hastily thrown-on (but importantly clean of any blood) uniform coat with a flutter that directed Wrecker's attention to the insignia to remind him she's still wearing the shattered cross so she's still on the job. "I think that would be a sufficient compromise, Wrecker." 

Wrecker just shrugs noncommittally, but nods all the same not long after with some thought. He trusts Tech's judgment of course; he trusts all of his brothers. Every. Damn. One of them. "Righ'. Compromise works… I'll take something for the pain, sure. Thanks, kid."

"I'll be right back then. I have some single doses in my bag." 

"Single doses?" The ARC trooper repeated from out in the common area. "What of? What for?" 

"Probably the big guy's shoulder." Crosshair said in a way that didn't sound like a guess, more of a statement. "Tweaked his shoulder aboard that karking transport." He didn't so much as react to the flinch and stern look from Hunter at his word choice. 

"How'd you know?" 

"Marksmen see everything…" [____] offered with a cryptic thought, rooting through the hard-frame medbag. She didn't elaborate on the less than blithe remark, just chewed on a difficult look in her eyes and the tight grind of her jaw. She'd seen her own horrors from the Clone Wars. The relentless and indiscriminate wrathful arm of brutality and violence that left so many permanently altered even if they survived those three years. Just three kriffing years that felt so much longer. "Found it. Here, got something to help with that pain, big guy."

She broke the thin barrier of foil in the single-dosage blister and took it back with her to the cramped kitchen, giving it to Wrecker who thanked her brightly, using one of her nicknames. "Awh, thanks. Appreciate it!" 

There was a shrill beep, the end of a timer from the opposite end of the kitchen that made Hunter visibly twitch out in the common room, the sound an icepick in his ear canal. 

"That was set for ten minutes," Tech answered the unasked question, calling out above the clattering of ceramic dishware as Wrecker plated the steaks that were done, "you should see if the dosage has helped Hunter. Will the dosage you gave Wrecker need more or less time?" 

The medic made a sound of deep thought at first. "Er, slightly more. Let's say fifteen. Thanks for keeping track, Tech," her thanks was met with insistence that it was nothing, he was happy to assist before she stepped back out into the common area, eyes squeezed in a look of worry when she saw Hunter. "Hunter, how you doin', hun? You okay? Think that painkiller kicked in yet?" 

Hunter rolled his good shoulder, hoping he didn't look too panicked on the outside the way he felt it internally. Great trees of Kashyyyk, that had set off his fight-flight instinct. "Uh, yeah, think it did… Timer just scared the kriff out of me. Could someone ask Tech to use a different timer tone?" It was a default sound, one a touch too close to the primed and ready chime of a detonator. Were it an octave higher, it would have been exact. 

"You hear that, nerd?" Crosshair growled darkly, voice just loud enough to be picked up by those in the kitchen. He'd noticed what Hunter had, felt that same edge in his teeth at the unpleasant alert. "Erase that karking option from the timer settings cause that's sure as banthashit not going to work out for ex-soldiers." 

"Yes, I agree; apologies, everyone..."  

A door slammed sharply down in the hall. Seemed like Omega had been ready to join the group for dinner once she could hear the gritty shuffle of plates, but suddenly changed her mind. It didn't seem like she'd meant to slam the door, either, that was very unlike her to engage in this age-appropriate behavior. "Oh dear..." [____] crooned softly, her face matching the worried expression of the brothers. She skirted around the sofa to stop Crosshair, and both she and Echo prevented Hunter from getting up by pressing down on his unhurt shoulder as he tried to find his feet under him. "No, stay there, Hunter; you're going to be too woozy to walk. Let me handle it, Crosshair," 

The sniper just regarded the thought of checking on his sister with one last look towards Omega's bedroom door, then back at the grown woman again before he relented, his jaw clenching and releasing repeatedly. "If you need help." 

"I'll let you know. I understand it's very unlike her; I'll see what's going on." [____] assured her friends, promising she'd ask one of them to come assist if she felt it was necessary. Silently approaching the barrier of privacy, the woman rapped a knuckle twice on the upper panel. 

A sniffled apology to what was likely believed to be needed for one of her brothers at the door greeted the medic's ears. "I-I'm sorry I didn't me-mean to slam the door…!" 

Oh the poor, sweet girl. Was she scared she'd gotten herself in trouble, or had the sound of the timer scared her, too? Though, perhaps it was a third, previously unconsidered option: Omega couldn't find the energy to be brave any longer. She wasn't as practiced as her war veteran brothers in masking their fear, or waiting until it was a more "appropriate" time to have those feelings. "It's me, Omega. May I come in?" There was no answer. Just a stifled sniffle before the audible swell of a new wave of tears started. "It's just me." [____] promised again.

The mechanism klic!'d as Omega hiccuped that she could come in. The desk light was the only source of illumination for the whole of the room presently turned on, so the medic left it that way. Curled in the deepest corner of her bed furthest from the door, Omega sat with her legs hiked up under her chin, the fabric of her pants tearstained at the knees. What was the best question to ask her first? Did she think she was in trouble for the door? Scared by the timer? Or scared she nearly lost her brother today? 

"Can I give you a hug, sweetheart?" was asked instead, the medic lowering herself slowly to the slightly springy mattress she remembered helping the brothers find when they furnished the house. 

Look, doc, we've… never had comfortable beds our whole lives being soldiers. Just those damn sleeping pods as cadets and then a private room with piss poor excuses for a mattress for those few nights we'd be back on Kamino. So that means we've never had to take care of a kid before either… What kind of mattress is Omega going to need? Help us… help me… figure out how to take care of that kid. Please… please!

Omega nodded with an emotional whimper, weakly climbing into the lap of the grown woman and planted her forehead between the medic's collarbones, crown of her head tucked away and under [____]'s chin. Strong arms that have cradled and carried the wounded, the dying, and the sick thread themselves around the shoulders and little waist of the sole sister to these brothers. 

"It's okay, sweetheart. I was scared too." 

It's all it takes to give Omega permission to cry again. To speak; the scared, child-like mewl of Omega's emotional voice punctuated by hiccups. "I-I thought I was going to l-lose my little brother!" She couldn't pretend anymore. She wasn't the “little sister” of the Bad Batch right now. She was the frightened, older - if not eldest - sibling of those vode out in the common room and in the kitchen who had been raised in secret labs and corners of Kamino and knew little of the galaxy compared to them. So she was being raised by men technically younger, but, by necessity, more mentally mature and experienced men. 

Fingers clawed into the doctor's coat like clingmoss, knuckles going pale with the force of the grip. The strength was mirrored with a deeper pull of her arms, and [____] brought Omega closer to her chest, combing her fingers through the girl's hair. "I-! I thought he'd-!" 

"I know, baby girl. I know. You don't have to say it and upset yourself. C'mere…" She scooped an arm under Omega's knees and repositioned her easily, cradling the child with an ease from years of practice. "... take a deep breath for me, little one. It's okay." If she could get Omega mostly settled, perhaps she could do something about the worried whispers just barely outside the mouth of the hall too. She had an idea. "Breathe in, hold, and then breathe out." She uncurled the arm under Omega's knees and dug around in an inner coat pocket, hoping the itty cylindrical object she felt in there was what she hoped it was. "Take a deep breath in," [____]'s fingers wrapped around the little item and pulled it free, a fabric marker she used to doodle on bandages and casts for pediatric patients. "and breathe out nice and slow… There you go. Just like that." 

"What's t-that?" Omega sniffled, eyes catching on the strange art supply. "I've never se-seen a marker like that before..."

"It's a fabric marker," [____] explained, taking the edge of her sleeve to dry Omega's face, using the distraction to soothe and settle, "I mostly use this to add little drawings on big casts and bandages for my pediatric patients so it makes them feel better. Maybe before I go home tonight you and I could add little doodles to Hunter's gauze; make it all pretty for him. Whaddya think?" The teasing offer and wink worked, the light in Omega's eyes sparking. The idea was silly, and there was a chance that trying to add a cute little doodle or two might be slightly more trouble than would be worth the temporary pain or Hunter would protest to the idea of being doodled on, but it was enough to cheer her spirits for the time being. "You can think about it. Hold onto it for now," 

Who knows; maybe Hunter would allow his sister to add some minuscule artworks if only to get her to smile and worry about him less, "Because I think that's the smell of your dinner ready. Hungry?"

Omega dried her eyes one last time and grinned brightly up at her friend. Her brother's savior. She still had her brother thanks to the woman who had come in and comforted her. "Yeah!" 

[____] smiled and winked at the little youngster still snuggled in her lap, the fabric marker held tight in her hands like a sword's hilt. "Good. Me too; ration bars are only so filling, aren't they?" Her heart sang with the bubbling giggle and one last embrace before both scooched off the bed, Omega calling out to any listening brother in the rest of the house that the two of them were ready to and that she called dibs! to sit between [____] and Hunter at the table this time when everyone sat down to dinner. 

There was a sharp pause before a great shuffle at the dining room table to make that arrangement possible.

Taglist: @dragonrider9905​

[MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

[dukeoftheblackstar]

@plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows

Screaming into void over "So Plo makes the executive decision to incubate the eggs himself."

I am very eager to know more details of the incubation and pouching process of these adoptive babies because:

Does that mean Plo will have to be extra careful when he moves should he proceed to pouch the eggs? I take it he'll do this when not assigned missions for increased survival of the babies?

If this will be similar to standard/mechanical incubation, does Plo get his own lab/facility within the Republic and be all scientist and shit? — I hope so.

Plo being followed by 3 Kel Dor younglings like a Mama Duck.

@dukeoftheblackstar - new post so we don't blow up exosorcery's notifications XD I don't have a taglist but most of my kel dor stuff is tagged with kel dor headcanons or kel dor conlang on my blog - some posts show up in both tags bc they have elements of both. I've got a shitload more bouncing around in my brain but I haven't gotten around to putting much on tumblr yet skhdfkshj

Also yes, I'm on board with carbonated drinks. Surprisingly enough, I have that as my HC too. I'm exploring liquor and variety of food that do well with Dorin gas which may play a part in their digestive. But I'll need someone more into chem than me to get that accurate.

[handshake meme] yeah i don't have nearly the chem knowledge to know if any of my headcanons for their biology are at all plausible - most of mine kinda started off as jokes XDD

I do have thoughts on kel dor treats tho! :D The main one I've come up with is called koyaalo, which means 'armored snail' - it's a thick-shelled bite-sized mollusc found in temperate regions of Dorin and it tastes delicious when pickled in noterazu (cooking wine, unfortunately explosive offworld). Something like a cross between nice crispy bacon and maple syrup. I like to think of it as a seasonal harvest delicacy, hard to farm so carefully managed for sustainability.

Of course, it is ARMORED smail, so you have to crack it open to get at the goods. Non-kel dor can do this with aid of a nutcracker; kel dor just go chomp. XD I hc that they have some heavy-duty molars for cracking open bones &such - beak and tusks for fine manipulation and nibbling, molars for gnawing.

there's also ttantta, which I'm imagining as sort of a sauce/pate-like thing that you can dip stuff into or just eat straight out of the jar if ur feeling decadent. It's a savory thing, sort of cheesy, but I think there's like a million regional variants with all sorts of additional seasonings and everyone argues about the best way to eat it lmao.

[exosorcery]

DOR'SHAN LOOKS!

CELEBRATING THE WEEKEND with the kids of Dor'shan 😎

Continuing with INKTOBER!

So, what do the kids of Dor'in get up to on the weekends? I often ask myself that question, so here are some of their many adventures. Part of a series of Dor'Shan Looks exploring that subject. Enjoy!

@plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows has been updating The Keldeorin'yaa Conlang Dictionary and there are MAAAANY words in there now that work as names. Here are the ones I used this time:

GESINYA - "Aurora." / LAO - "Rain." / AN - "SIX" (Remember that character from 'Blossom?' Likely her birth order number in the family.) / GAN - "Three." Likely his birth order number in the family. / TOL - "Meteor." / YOIVU - "Omen." (PROBABLY A NICKNAME) / DIDI - Short for "Didibit", which means "little thing." Meant as a pet name for small children (PROBABLY A NICKNAME). / AGAL - "STICK, TWIG" (PROBABLY A NICKNAME) / HASSAO - "Sky" / NAWA - "Wing." / RIAM - "Snow." / KUBIKUK - "Murmur, mumble." Somehow I think the former would have been the intention.

YANSSIGIR - These are, "Whaleseal; the largest predator in Dor'in's oceans, a cold-adapted diving predator with grasping claws on its front flippers, reaching up to 15 M in length."

You can see preserved specimens of all of Dor'in's marine life at The Dor'shan Oceanarium.

Many thanks to @plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows for the Keldeorin'yaa Conlang Dictionary. Read it here -

keldeorinyaa conlang dictionary - Google Sheets

Hugs, all!

[dukeoftheblackstar]

@saengak @plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows @veny-many @exosorcery

So the world building continues and the Kel Dor lore expands! Papa Koon is materializing shamelessly and found this formal attire for Kel Dors.

So @plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows @saengak are go for Blue for Clan Koon aka House of Koon. Black is staple.

[plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows]

every time i check wookieepedia for more kel dor lore I get annoyed at the bit that says the Baran Do became irrelevant after the Jedi started coming around bc like.

a) there is no way the Jedi wouldn't want to like. team up with them instead lmfao

b) the numbers also don't add up. The Jedi have like ten thousand members in Prequel times, from species across the whole galaxy. Even if you scour the wiki, there's only like three, possibly four kel dor Jedi active at that time. Even if we accept the idea that these few are the absolute most powerful force-sensitive kel dor out there, there's no fuckin way a planet/species that can support its own extensive indigenous Force tradition just abandons that tradition, just bc a literal handful of kids in every generation goes offworld to learn from a different Force tradition.

c) the Baran Do also do a slightly different thing than the Jedi - it's basically Force-aided disaster risk/resilience/management shit. The Jedi can't make them obsolete just by existing; they're filling a different need with diplomacy and averting wars and shit. Sometimes their work crosses over, but that's not enough to put them in competition.

So, my headcanon—

The Baran Do don't have the same restriction on 'must be a child to join' as the Jedi do, so they're happy to allow children who get scouted to go off and join the Jedi, on the condition that that child gets the opportunity to come back and train with the Baran Do later on if they so wish. The Jedi are perfectly happy to allow this, both in a spirit of Interfaith Cooperation and also making sure their kids get the chance to connect with their ancestral cultures. So the relationship between Baran Do and Jedi is pretty relaxed and friendly overall.

...At this point, most of the kel dor children who are given to the Jedi were actually brought to the Jedi's attention by the Baran Do, because the Force metaphorically tapped on some Sage's shoulder and went like "hey. This one would do well with the Jedi." And that Sage phoned up the Jedi Temple like "hey could u guys send someone out, there might be a baby Jedi here for u." It's treated like a celebration for both parties, there's a festival and everything. XD

Plo happened to be the Jedi sent out to collect Sha; he didn't know the kid was his niece at that point, but then the moment he stepped off the ship he was Engulfed in a surprise family reunion. His mother, Sha's grandma, is a Baran Do Sage, and she'd requested Plo directly but then kept it to herself, so the rest of the family was equally surprised and delighted lmao.

[exosorcery]

KELDEORIN'YAA WORD OF THE DAY

HASSADURRA (N) - Lightning rod

KOMESSI - (PHR) - Very informal expression of sympathy, more or less "RIP, my dude."

Don't be too concerned about the dude, though. Kel' Dor survive lightning strikes. A lot.

In fact there is a whole clan on Dor'in with a name that essentially expresses "They Who Survive Lightning" - because many members of their clan (in particular) get struck and then live to tell about it.

It might be a force quirk, nobody's sure.

Many thanks to @plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows for the Keldeorin'yaa Conlang Dictionary which you can access here:

keldeorinyaa conlang dictionary - Google Sheets

[dukeoftheblackstar]

Must be extremely stressful trying times for Plo Koon because emotions be wild. He would feel them through the force and the fact that he's home adds an even more sense of panic that he should have a hold over since he's a Master Jedi.

He probably worried sick over Sha, his niece, even though he knows he can hold her own. Maybe other relatives too!

1000000/10 he would be called to meetings with other Baran Do Sages and he'd be so busy with no time to rest because Plo would be all over the place trying to help everyone ;///////////////////;

And the 104th would be on their best game but also be curious about things! OMG They will also get to see unmasked Kel Dors! Young and old and eggs, if ever they are oviparous!

They will get to discover the harsh environment of Dorin + the recent attack?! OMG they will see how Plo has had it hard and like asjkdkasjdaksjdsakjdhaskjd?

Maybe steal glimpses of their General helping in the aid and coming to terms that:

Plo Koon is beyond his prime. He's like super-god at this point.

And this! This is what I have pining about!!! Plo Koon is very old and tired. Tired from all the wars won. Tired from all the battles and missions albeit his heart is in a good place. But he is tired. Tired from all the deaths, the feeling of all of it, the nightmares, maybe? Yes. War Vet Vibes!

And this just makes the Wolfpack love and appreciate him more. Because you don't take age so seriously when you're a strong, powerful, regal Jedi. Sure you get that he's an alien like Yoda, but the years, centuries of carried and repression is gonna hit you bad in some nights.

They catch glimpses of Plo handing out some relief supply and you can just see the weariness and hurt in him. To see your people thinned out and in strive, you see him. You see Plo.

You see his shoulders slouch because he's just in as defeat as them. You see his shoulders try to tense up and keep that façade. You see the creases on his forehead contort into different emotions; unabashed sadness for what has happened — his heart, soul, mind, everything goes out for all of them. Guilt, maybe he should have stayed? Helped defend this planet? Help prevent so much loses? Anger that he's trying to suppress and channel for Jedi Purposes. Exhaustion over everything; the war, what happened, recent mission, meetings, him being too old for this shit.

And the Wolves do him good. They try so hard. Surround him. Keep close to him. Unspoken acts of service that that include but are not limited to:

Burn through relief supply fast so they can make sure Plo doesn't have to be there and can get rest.

They proactively seek out residences and see what they can do to assist — recover toys, important belongings.

Downtime includes our beautiful angels playing with Kel Dor kids and asking them questions/stories to make them laugh LIKE OMG BOYS PLS ;//////;

Since our clones are very artsy with paint, they do this thing with the young Kel Dor kids wherein they do painting sessions for the salvaged eggs. They paint the eggs with happy things and mark them with handprints.

The boys retiring for the day with thick dried paints on their gloved hands and pile up by Plo's door or wherever he intends to sleep.

They pick up Dorin language, terms quietly. Then try to slip it in conversations with Plo and it melts him. Some of them getting it wrong and Plo gets to have an actual soft chuckle and corrects them. Teaches them. Teaches his son.

Certain people refer to Plo's bros as sons now seeing as how they work 1000 times harder than others with this mission. Doesn't correct them and just replies with "I suppose they are, my sons I mean, seeing as I am well-beyond their years".

Shameless gonna insert this here art by @moonmo0n I had commissioned.

I just want Plo to have a day. Let him do some crochet, let him embroider shit for all I care. Let him sit down with a blankie over his tired knees and just rest. ;//////////////////////;

According to Legend, there was a huge battle in Dorin in middle of the Clone wars.

And many Kel-Dorian suffered from Grievous' warcrime but managed to protect their land with help of the Republic.

I want to imagine that in order to help Dorin to rebuild from harassing battle, the Republic orders relief mission for them, and for the smooth progress they patches Plo Koon, and 104th.

And 104th are like "oh my god its our General's homeworld" and both excited and curious.

And with helping suffering innocent Kel-Dorians and Plo shows slightly that he is deeply distressed, 104th boys are concerned and awkwardly help their General to feel better. (Like gathering most favorite Dorin snacks and drinks with their poor saves)

And other Kel-Dorian be like " You raised great sons :)" and Plo replies with "no they're natural and great wait what" and i want to see more Dorin why aren't you showing any more of them you darn official

[dukeoftheblackstar]

[ Seeing more Kel Dor lore and Plo Koon shenanigans on my dash is life ♥ Yes, spread the love for Space Dad. ]

[kiwikipedia]

Kel Dor, the Dorin Religion, and the Spirits Connected to It

The Kel Dor religion is one that is Polytheistic in nature. That said, it is not something that is extremely prominent in every day life— or at least not anymore.

The Kel Dor still revere and recognize the Spirits— especially the Wind Spirits and Storm Spirits— as beings that exist and should be respected, and many still stick to old traditions such as creating wind chimes for the Spirits to play and entertain themselves with, or naming their children names that are short syllabled (one to three at most), or leaving little offerings out (this can be food, trinkets, or even just bits of brightly colored fabric) for them, but sacrificing, worship, idols? Those just aren’t things that the Kel Dor do for the Spirits.

And certainly, at one time in the past, they had, but that was very, very long ago. 

The Kel Dor do hold one festival in reverence for the Spirits, though this also acts as a celebration for what they consider to be their new year and in celebration for the calming of the storms above for a few days. This festival is called the “Festival of Winds” and is the only festival and holiday on Dorin that is plant-wide recognized.

When it comes to death, Kel Dor view death as something that is more akin to “returning to the winds” as the general legend is that the Kel Dor were once Spirits as well, though were given physical form. Depending on how deep into the religion that one gets, there’s a cycle of rebirth and so forth, but generally Kel Dor accept two things about death and the Spirits: when one dies their Kut or soul returns to the Winds and resides with the Spirits again, and when one dies it is impolite and disrespectful to call upon their Kut for up to three hundred years, as that is a resting period for their Kut to be settled. 

Furthermore, even if one did call upon one’s Kut is not recommended o do so, as the Spirits are fickle and you might not always get who you’re looking for— or at least that’s the tale that people tell. No one’s actually sure if you can actually call upon one’s Kut or not.

It is easy to see that, while the other Spirits are just as respected and revered, those of the Wind hold a very important spot for the Kel Dor in this way, though there rarely seems to be any ill consequences because of it.

That said, most of this is simply things among the common Kel Dor, within the Sages, the concept of the Spirits and the religion that circles around it is a bit different.

As the Sages are the Kel Dor version of the Jedi Order, there are aspects of the Force that are woven into the concept of the Spirits. Electric Judgement, for example, is something that is attributed to the Spirits through the Force and granted to those who are worthy of holding the power to judge others.

There are two sects of the Baran Do that stem from the Spirits as well: the Storm Casters and Wind Walkers. 

The Storm Casters is headed by the Sage Ban Sult, a powerful Kel Dor who would have made a top tier Jedi, had he chosen to join the Jedi instead of remain on Dorin and join the Sages. The Storm Casters, while not judges nor those who hold political position among the Kel Dor, do practice Electric Judgement, along with the bending the Force to bring storms to them.

Ban Sult’s lightning is purple in color, signifying the strength behind it.

Plo Koon is in this sect, however, as he is also a Jedi, he does not have to uphold the duties of a Storm Caster— which is to direct, predict, and combat the storms that rage across Dorin.

The Storm Caster Sect of the Sages has it’s name from the Storm Spirits, the very ones they combat to drive off storms that threaten the less protected areas of Dorin. Not every practicer of Electric Judgement is a Storm Caster, however, but many who are and are in the Sage Order often are.

The other Sect, the Wind Walkers is very different. 

Externally, they are similar, as they are a sect that tracts the wind patterns that bring storms and disaster across Dorin, however they are much more in tune to the Sprits than their counterpart.

Even with technology, the Winds are hard to track and predict, so Wind Walkers have aid in doing so.

This is where the interesting part comes in— many who hear of the Dorin religion simply brush it off as another religion with no physical aspect if they’re not a part of the religion already. A big “my religion is real but yours isn’t” except... it’s not quite that.

The Wind Spirits are at least some form of creature that exists among them— offerings are taken, children are spirited away, wind chimes and objects move when there is no wind... a strange phenomenon, for sure.

The head of the Raal Clan and Baran Do Sage, Shir Raal, speculates that, when taking the Force into account, the Spirits could possibly be powerful Force Sensitives who have passed on but have since lost their identities and have simply continued on as ‘Spirits’ instead. But this could be theory only, no one is quite sure why or what the Spirits are.

But they’re strong, and sentient enough. 

That is why the Wind Walkers are different than the Storm Casters, as the aid that the Wind Walkers get is directly from Wind Spirits.

There are not many Wind Walkers, as contracting a Spirit is a very careful process, but there are enough to cause a difference— and a few even off world.

Fae Koon, Plo Koon’s Uncle and a Jedi and Sage as well, is one such as these. The Wind Spirit he is contracted to is known to them as “Etu'soh'Makai-Du'ul-Siksta” or “The One Whose Wind Cuts Through The Darkened Sleep” which is to say the one whose wind howls in the night. 

Another Wind Walker is contracted to “Ahk’arti’Makai-Ramhet’Bekir” or “The One Whose Wind Sheers With Riotous Energy” and there are many more yet unnamed. However, no one as of yet knows of any Storm Spirits or other Spirits’ names, the only names that are known are those belonging to the Wind Spirits.

Most spirits do not assume any sort of physical form and remain dormant within the Walker, but every so often they will take on a form or take control of the Walker.

Nonetheless, there are many secrets that the Baran Do and the Kel Dor chose not to reveal when it comes to the Spirits, for one reason or another, and the Wind Walkers and their act of contracting the Spirits is something that is not talked about often, if at all, outside of the Baran Do Sage Order. Though there have been notes of Jedi being slightly uneasy around Fae Koon at times...

@a-dorin @storm89 @bassuwun (idk bassoon, this just seems like something you’d want to be tagged in)

[mwolf0epsilon]

Well if canon won't supply, then I sure will!

My baby Kel Dor headcanon, in which they hatch from eggs and grow from hatchling to tailless toddlers (fully capable of moving on their little chubby limbs and supporting the weight of their own head) in a single month from consistent feeding as they emerge from their nutrient-rich and highly specialised underground nurseries.

Their metabolism and aging slows there on after and the infants are then dependant of their parents, who are eagerly awaiting for their young to emerge so they can name the child appropriately and begin their role in child-reering.