#- tipit herself

[bolithesenate]

do not show the small mandalorian child jedi saber forms. they can and will try to imitate the katas

[hazbin-to-hazbin-hotel]

Alastor is aroace.

As said in the title, Alastor is aroace. Viv and Faustisse confirmed it. This means he is both aromantic and asexual, this is great news, you don't see aroaces in a lot of media (at least I haven't) and I can't wait to see how he and his relationships develop. Though sadly this comes with bad news as well, it means that a lot of shippers, writers and artists will be attacked.

According to Faustisse, he is canonically an aromantic asexual but that should not be a reason for shippers to be discouraged and stop shipping him with anyone as long as it's not hurting anyone, per Vivzie's words. Source;

Well, Fuck it. Viv said it herself, this should not stop us from shipping him with anyone. And I believe this includes writing and art as well, if you want to write about a candlelight dinner with Al, then go for it. If you want to draw him in a sexy pose (or more 😉), then go for it. In the end it is just about having fun. And what's harmful about a bit of fun right? As long as your not hurting anybody or yourself. Run wild!

All you need to do is understand that your ship will most likely not exist in canon, but it will thrive in fanon. So will stories and art. You are not disrespecting Viv or aromantic and/or asexual people by doing it. (little tipit, most people who get offended by this stuff are not either of these things or are uneducated. Not saying all of them are, but most seem this way) like I said before, as long as your not trying to hurt anyone your fine.

Now go and ship, write and draw to your hearts content!

[sidhewrites]

Coriander Chapter 1B

Previous Installment found here. Approx 1700 Words. Feel free to send Asks or Messages about what’s written or anything you’re curious about

CORIANDER STUMBLED ALONG IN HIS WAKE, hoping she would simply melt into a puddle of mud, never to be seen or heard from again. Jasper’s imagined questions and rumors seemed to have no end, ranging from him being a long-lost prince of Ninoom (very unlikely), to the recently lost prince of their own kingdom (even more impossible, considering his accent) to an escaped pirate from the Iveyan Sea (possible, but preferably not the truth).

He did look like someone who might have been from Ninoom though, now that she thought about it. It was the green that gave it away – the stripes on his face, the color in his eyes. Even his undershirt sticking out from his travel clothes was a rich mossy hue. She remembered reading about the country, about how it had been a rich southwestern kingdom known for its scientific advancements and incredible architecture.

But Jasper was coming from the southeast, far from where the Ninoom lay and much closer to the capital of Cresce than anything else. Of course, he could have travelled east before heading north, but if he had business up north with the elves, then why would he stop there first? Even still, he talked with his hands – as animated as the working class in Ninoom were said to be. She was certain he had been born there, even if he hadn’t been back in years…then again, the merchants in Threston did the exact same thing. The very thought of the city sent a cold shudder down her spine.

She remembered to pay attention to the present far too late to be polite, and yet Jasper hadn’t even stopped for breath.

“…And then I’d have to insist to the queen I had no intentions of removing you from her court – simply that I wished to walk about the royal gardens with my good friend, whom I would never be so bold as to ask to marry, for who would ever think themselves worthy of marrying the great and clever Miss Tippit?”

She had missed a few steps in the conversation. He didn’t wait for her to stammer a reply before going on.

“Besides, I wouldn’t have time for marriage, and neither would you. You’d be too busy making important decisions and running away from cats –“ that brought a blush to her face again “—to even consider a spouse. Meanwhile I’ll have maps to fill in and ancient relics to uncover. The very fact that we have time to walk about the royal gardens would still be a wonder to both of us that the idea of falling in love, much less marrying, is far too foreign to consider.”

He really did like to talk didn’t he?

In fact, Jasper didn’t stop talking until he took a wrong turn, and Coriander hesitated to follow. He turned towards her immediately, apparently far more attentive than she had given him credit for. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

Coriander fiddled with a stray bit of straw in her basket before looking down the road. “The bakery’s, um…”

She didn’t have to finish the thought. “Ah, of course. Thank you for letting me know.” Jasper stepped back onto the main road without hesitation. “Really, you are a most attentive host, Miss Tippit. Most people wouldn’t have bothered to tell me I was going the wrong way until it was far too late.”

Is that what she had done?

Nevertheless, Jasper resumed the journey without a second thought. Coriander couldn’t help but wondering about him, and how many wrong directions he had taken, due to overconfidence or simple ignorance. He didn’t seem too proud to admit he was going the wrong way, but then again, he also seemed intent to keep her around for a bit longer. She couldn’t for the life of her imagine why.

“Um—“ she began, far too quiet to be properly heard.

Jasper heard immediately. “Yes, what?”

“The, uh…bakery.” She pointed to the shopfront a few doors down.

Jasper’s face lit up. He pushed past Coriander with the excitement of a child and whipping the bakery door open. He stopped just long enough to ask, “Are you coming?” before disappearing inside.

Coriander followed at a more respectable pace, half expecting Jasper to have bought five cakes in the few seconds they had been separated. At least she had business here, though it was the errand she dreaded most. Her mother loves the sweet cakes here, but the baker decidedly did not like small, soft spoken girls with plain brown hair and weak brown eyes. (She’d heard somewhere it was because they reminded him of his daughter, who had left none too kindly to marry a circus performer some years back.)

As it was, Jasper had not bought anything yet. He was too busy ogling the goods, trying to decide between honey bread and simple rye. She had to forgive him his excitement. Travelling for so long surely left him with few opportunities to eat anything other than rabbit and the occasional bird. Bread must be something of a luxury for him now.

“Good morning, Mister Hayes,” she said, stepping fully into the shop, but not expecting an answer.

She received none. Hayes, wizened but half blind in one of his old, sharp eyes, watched Jasper closely. She hoped neither of them were planning for a robbery.

“Miss Tippit!” Jasper beckoned with both hands. “You must hurry over here and help me decide.”

She approached dubiously. “Decide?”

“Yes, Miss Tippit.” He tapped the display case. “Do I purchase three loaves of honey bread, or two loaves of honey and two of rye, or perhaps three loaves of rye and two of simple wheat? Or one of honey, two of rye, and three of wheat? It’s a terrible conundrum.”

“Um—“

“Of course, I’ll insist on sharing with you, Miss Tipit. A pilgrim must present one’s host with something, after all.”

Coriander looked to Hayes for help. He offered no more assistance than she expected, his eyes set on Jasper. Their new guest was far too interesting to remember her. She turned back to Jasper, still poring over the wares.

“Do you even know how much everything costs?” Hayes said.

“Not in the least. I think Miss Tippit might know, however. You’re a very busy man, after all, Mister Hayes, and I wouldn’t want to interrupt your work with something so small as a question of price. Which is why, Miss Tippit, I was hoping you’d tell me the cost of each item? I’m hoping it’s nowhere near the prices in Berall, you know. Wildly unnecessary, Miss Tippit, but such is the way of rich folk.”

Coriander’s head spun. Why was he saying her name so much? When had he gone to Berall? How had he gone to Berall? Nobody – not even the royal army was allowed into the Queen’s City without a summons.  Did he know the queen herself? (Had he been telling the truth when he said he was the prince?) She offered as much of a response as possible: “Uh…”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Hayes said. “I can wait ten minutes or so for you to decide on what you want.”

“If you insist,” Jasper said without a grin. It returned, however, when he turned away from Hayes. “Miss Tippit, if I may ask again, what’s the cost of everything? That is – of course if you use the Queen’s Coin. I only have marks and silvers with me.”

“Right, yes, um.” Coriander stepped up to the case, painfully aware of how insistently Jasper’s attention fixed itself on her. “Honey bread is seven marks each, though Mister Hayes will offer four for only twenty-five marks sometimes. I think Rye is four, but you can purchase four for only fifteen. It’s easier than fishing for that extra penny, I think is why he does it.”

She pursed her lips in thought just long enough for Jasper to prompt her to continue. “And the wheat?”

“Oh, right, sorry. The wheat bread is three marks. I’m not sure if Mister Hayes does discounts for wheat, though. Mother doesn’t—“

“Of course there’s a discount,” Hayes snapped. “What sort of a madman wants to deal with extra pennies?” She didn’t need to look at him to know how harshly he looked at her.

Coriander shrank away, turning her eyes to the ground and wrapping her arms around herself. She pressed her lips together tightly, fighting back the stinging in her eyes and cursing herself for how stupid she was being. There was absolutely no reason to cry just for being corrected, and now she was causing a scene. Of course Mister Hayes gave discounts, it was a simple pattern for her to guess at. She’d known him long enough. His bakery had been open far longer than she’d been alive. She’d never even met his daughter.

“Thank you for informing us.” Jasper’s voice had gone quiet.

Coriander didn’t look up. A gentle hand found the small of her back and guided her away from the display case.

“I have fewer coins than I thought. I’ll have to come back when I have more.”

Jasper wasn’t smiling as he led Coriander out of the shop. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his face harden and his jaw set. Guilt settled into the pit of her stomach. If she wasn’t so sensitive, Jasper would surely be enjoying his food by now, but instead he was angry. She didn’t know if it was because of her or simply directed at her, but it hardly mattered. He was upset, and it was her fault. And, yet again again, she hadn’t managed to purchase her mother’s cakes.

Against her will, Coriander began to cry. She was quiet, and fought not to shake, but there was no hiding her sniffling, or her wishing to turn into a shadow and be forgotten completely.

[bolithesenate]

Pev'la doesn't have much in terms of armor herself, because most of the funds that Clan Pallipet has for these things go to her older sister or are set aside for Tipit's future, but she manages.

[bolithesenate]

Alone, desire and failure for Pev'la!!!!

Pev'la my beloved! Thanks for the ask :D

Alone - how does she deal with loneliness/has she ever been completely alone/how does she act when no one is around

Before Tipit was born, there were moments where she indeed was factually alone. Una - her younger sister - is the breadwinner of their family and quite often off-planet on bounty hunter business and after their ba'buir died( the woman who adopted them and dragged them to Coruscant in the first place) that only got more frequent. Pev'la herself isn't the most social mando out there and so she doesn't really have many friends, close or otherwise. She only started the eatery around the time of Tipit's birth, during the period where Una wasn't able to go out on hunts, to at least get some money in. It forced her to become a bit more social, even though that was an uphill battle.

Pev'la never was a talented fighter and so she's very self conscious about her status as a mando'ad when she's around other, more active warriors. In fact, she and her sister originally were raised in a pantoran nunnery that was very spiritual and had a big focus on self-restraint and conscious living. Some parts of that ideology still linger in her, even though it's been like two decades since they left.

So it is more comfortable for her to be alone, sometimes. She doesn't feel like she has to pretend to like the parts of mando culture she feels little connection to.

But ever since she's Tipit's main caretaker , loneliness isn't really a factor anymore anyways.

desire - what's one thing she wants more than anything in the world/is she open with that desire/what would she do to fulfil it

Pev'la doesn't really wish for many things in life (apart from the death of every tax auditor on Coruscant during tax season). at least not for herself.

Her main desire in life is to see her niece grow up healthy and maybe that Una was more of a part in her life. But she is very aware of the fact that her chances of actively influencing these things arw rather limited.

She would still kill a man for Tipit though. She has killed for Una.

failure - what is her greatest failure/has she been able to move past it/does anyone know about it

I think the biggest failure she percieves is all the little ways she doesn't fit into mando society. She lives at it's edges, consciously of that choice, yet she has a sister and a niece that are basically picturebook mandos.

Una knows this about her and she doesn't agree with her sister. She claims that Pev'la is plenty mandokarla in her own right, and that not every mando has to fight.

(but Una doesn't quite remember that Pev'la's discomfort with fighting and the life of a bountyhunter was the reason their ba'buir took them away from the greater Clan and moved to Kih'keldabe. Pev'la does. And sometimes she hates that she was the reason that Tipit now only knows Coruscant's metal jungle and will never get the joy of spending her childhood on a planet with actual flora and fauna)

(THIS Una doesn't know. It's a secret that followed their ba'buir to the grave and will follow Pev'la to hers, because there is no way she'll ever tell anyone about this)