Faction Tying a Golden Knot | Hapan Royal Wedding of Prince Astor Daaray

[Shaya Khal]

Tying a Golden Knot

The grand ceremonial hall of the Fountain Palace on Hapes gleamed like a jewel at the heart of the Hapan Cluster. The soaring, vaulted ceiling was an intricate mosaic of polished transparisteel and refractive crystal, catching the light of Hapes’ Prime distant star and scattering it into a kaleidoscope of radiant hues. Suspended high above, glowing orbs floated in perfect symmetry, bathing the hall in a soft, ethereal light that danced across the polished obsidian floors.

The air was heavy with anticipation, tinged with the delicate fragrances of rare blooms imported from across the Hapes Cluster. Massive floral arrangements flanked the length of the hall, towering spirals of Rominaria blossoms, Queen’s Heart roses, and Gallinorean orchids. Their vibrant reds, blues, and silvers matched the Consortium’s royal colors and served as living symbols of unity, resilience, and opulence.

At the center of the hall stretched a broad aisle, lined with banners bearing the starburst sigil of the Hapes Consortium. Each banner fluttered gently in the artificial breeze, their gold-threaded embroidery shimmering like starlight. On either side of the aisle, rows of Hapan nobility stood resplendent in their finest attire, a sea of shimmering silks, dazzling gemstones, and perfectly styled hair. Their eyes, sharp and assessing, betrayed the political stakes of the day. Overlooking the entire spectacle, the elevated dais stood as a beacon of authority and tradition. At its center was the ceremonial altar, a masterpiece of craftsmanship sculpted from pure durasteel and inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Behind it, a massive tapestry depicting Queen Mother Kha’la Daaray and the 63 other rulers of Hapan history loomed, their watchful gazes lending a sense of gravitas to the occasion.

The murmurs of the gathered elite filled the air like an electric undercurrent. Representatives from every corner of the Consortium mingled with foreign dignitaries and Galactic Alliance envoys, each interaction a delicate dance of alliances and rivalries. Here, every word and glance held meaning, every gesture an unspoken message. Yet amidst the grandeur and political tension, the ceremony’s deeper purpose could not be ignored. This was no ordinary union—it was a declaration to the galaxy. The Hapes Consortium, with its millennia of matriarchal tradition and unparalleled wealth, stood strong and united despite the growing whispers of unrest within its borders.

In the shadows of this lavish setting, the weight of expectation bore down on the two figures who would soon take their places at the altar. Lady Shaya Khal, radiant and poised, prepared to step into her destiny with the precision of a master strategist. Prince Astor Daaray, charming and magnetic, embodied the old traditions of gallantry and honor. Together, they would forge a new chapter in the Consortium’s storied history—one written not just in vows but in power, ambition, and legacy.

The processional was moments away.

Spoiler: RSVP Tag List

Liram Angellus | Briana Sal-Soren | Sentapoth Findos | Kha'la Daaray | Ben Khal
| Corazona von Ascania | Valery Noble | Judah Dashiell | Liin Terallo | Caelan Valoren | Noah Corek
Roman Vossari | Amelia von Sorenn | Zhea Nox | Vemric Keldra | Tertius C. Nargath
Katarine Ryiah | Thralrii Hillbolt | Ailmar Dawnstone | Thayze Montserrat | Diarch Reign
Lorn Reingard | Kalantha | @any others I may have missed

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[Sentapoth Findos]

/:/ Tag:

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General Sentapoth Findos positioned himself at the periphery of the magnificent ballroom, surveying the lavish gold and silver embellishments adorning the Hapan royal palace. He had not anticipated receiving an invitation from the insular Hapes Cluster, particularly in light of the recent confrontation within the Federal Assembly.

This day, however, was marked by celebration, representing a union that was expected to fortify and safeguard the future of Hapan royalty. As he adjusted the robes he found it difficult to dispel the underlying sense of dread that lurked beneath his otherwise calm demeanor.

What if unforeseen complications arose? This troubling thought gnawed at him persistently.

He watched the other guests mingle, their laughter ringing out like music, but Sentapoth's attention was fixated on the shadows that lurked in the corners of the ballroom. He had always been more comfortable in the strategic confines of a war room than amidst a royal gathering.

The protocols of diplomacy eluded him, and the sight of smiling faces now seemed to mask hidden agendas and potential threats. His large, slanted eyes darted around, assessing each guest with suspicion. The Hapan nobles, with their elegant gowns and polished manners, appeared to be having a splendid time, but what if one of them was plotting something sinister?

"Oh....I hope this wedding is over quickly before something terrible can happen." He voiced his thoughts audibly, accompanied by an inherent stutter in his speech.

 

[Liram Angellus]

Tying a Golden Knot​

Finding their way to their seats, Liram, Alyksandra and Michael relaxed into the uncomfortable seating, but were more than respectful. Michael was not happy to be here, he did not know anyone and felt really out of place. That does not mean that he was showing it or speaking out, he had manners and knew that this would only serve to embarrass his mother, and more so his father.

He was not the only one uncomfortable though, Liram was not interested in being there. Not that he was not appreciative of the invite, but felt like they were not meant to be. There were heads of state here, and the rep for the military, the Supreme Commander was rumored to be here as well. He was the flag officer of a Reactionary Fleet, not a Sector Fleet.

That and the fact that he had a security detail practically breathing on them did not help.

Michael Angellus was still not happy. In fact he was furious. That is why neither of them were on speaking terms at the moment. Sure, he understood why the kid didn't want to be here, he was indeed an "Angellus", Liram himself didn't either. However if he was going to learn more about the galaxy, like he wants to, "Michelangelo" is going to have to learn about how it worked. Aleksandra was disgusted with the both of them, and she whispered to her husband for him to "fix this" with his son before they leave for their new home.

He agreed, but not now.

Now was a wedding.

 

[Caelan Valoren]

His first event since the Alliance helped him save his home world and he was feeling a bit nervous about it. Not because the event was about him, but because he now had the objective responsibility to openly represent the interests of Lazerian IV and, most specifically, the Kingdom of Devit. His coronation would come soon enough and his official status as King would come to fruition, but his people needed some time to deal with everything that happened before that. There was plenty of mourning to do, and rebuilding. In the meantime, he had stately affairs to attend.

Dressed in one of his outfits, one of the ones reserved for special occasions, he stepped off the Royal Transport, three fighters resting alongside it, and walked, alone save for Fate, to a waiting speeder which took him to the site of the wedding. He didn't know the two that were getting married, but he brought a suitable gift, something of import to him and his people, and would give it to them when the time was right to do so.

"Bwee-dweep bwoo-beep!"

Caelan looked around and nodded in agreement. "It is very grand. A beautiful world full of beautiful people."

It was his first time visiting Hapes, probably not his last, but he didn't mind the reason for it. Inside of the Palace, in the ceremonial hall, many other heads of state, royals, nobility, and other invited guests were in attendance. He was quite young to be there himself, but sometimes that was the way things worked out. The Queen of Naboo wasn't very old, either. Age didn't bely an ability or inability to lead, but someone's mindset and principles did. Even though he hadn't wanted to lead so young, he would rise to the occasion.

He maneuvered through the people, offering polite nods and smiles, before approaching a seat that wasn't taken, with no one else yet sitting around. Settling in, Fate decided to sit between his feet. The gift he'd brought was nestled in his pocket and would remain there until the giving of gifts was appropriate. For now, he need only watch and wait for the ceremony to begin.

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ATTIRE: LINK (The Third Image) | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace)

TAGS: Open​

 

[Ben Khal]

Ben sat just a few rows away from the altar, wedged between his mother and father. In place of his Jedi robes, he wore a brand new suit in the style favored by Hapan noblemen. He wore it awkwardly, as though the fine cloth were coarse and irritating.

Though Ben didn't really know Shaya, they were in fact second cousins. The boy was therefore obligated to attend what his parents were calling the "most important thing to happen to our family in half a century". Ben wasn't sure anything that had ever happened to them could even compare to this. No Khal had ever married royalty before. But thanks to decades of careful political maneuvering, they had moved up in the ranks, finally reaching the zenith of Hapan society.

"Your grandmother dreamed of this day," his mother murmured to him. "I wish she were here to see it."

He watched her fluttering fan, the glint of the jewels around her neck and the rainbow gem diadem crowning her dark hair. You would think she was the one marrying the prince today.

Ben craned his neck, searching the crowds for familiar faces. He spotted Master Oukranos a few rows down, sitting on the very end of a pew filled with an odd mix of Jedi and stuffy nobles. Ben raised a hand to wave at him, and received a small nod in return. It had taken some serious arm twisting to get the reserved Pylantian to accept his invitation. Eventually he relented, only agreeing to go on the grounds of it being the wedding of his Padawan's relative. He'd probably leave at the soonest opportunity, but hey, it's the thought that counts.

"Now we just need to get you betrothed, Benwick," Ben's mother remarked, causing his startled eyes to dart toward her. "I haven't worked out who it is, but I'm leaning toward one of the Queen Mother's cousins..."

Shaya Khal Sentapoth Findos Liram Angellus Caelan Valoren​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Attire: XXX | Tags: Diogo Talon + OPEN
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"So, I've heard there's a fancy Hapan wedding happenin' soon. Would you wanna crash it with me? It will probably be lame, but at least there'll be free booze and food. We can always bail early. Whatya say, Freckles?"

The thing about crashing a royal wedding is, you kind of have to sit through the ceremony. Otherwise they won't let you in just for the reception. It was a pretty hefty price to pay for free booze and food, but Eloise had a secret: she liked getting dressed up and going to fancy events like this. Pageantry and ritual gave life a little extra beauty, even if they were sprinkled between long periods of waiting around for something to happen.

She didn't know anything about the political symbolism of the union, nor would she have given much of a shit if she did. She was too busy staring at Diogo, occasionally stroking his arm, clasping his hand, laying her head on his shoulder, and generally behaving like the infatuated girl that she was.

At least, until her stomach rumbled. Force, could the Hapans maybe hurry up and get this show on the road? Every fething wedding she'd ever been to, they always ended up starving their guests...

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Tag: Corazona von Ascania

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Before the event at the grand ceremonial hall of the Fountain Palace, Lysander and his sister partook in a fun ritual, a moment of sibling bonding; they chose to apply a hydration face mask together, having turned the hotel room into a mini spa. The Padawan wanted his skin to look its best, obviously, but even more so, it was because he sought her company as always, eager to cherish her coolness. Perhaps he could even mirror Cora’s confidence, since she always naturally exuded grace at such events.

After styling his hair and feeling that his appearance was flawless upon a review in the mirror, he began feeling the thrill of excitement build within. The idea of being there alongside a few others from the Royal Naboo Republic felt reassuring too. Not to mention, it was certainly a refreshing break from the daily grind at the Enclave, nestled in the Gallo Mountains back home.

Lysander wore a long sleeve tunic of light cream, with a high collar and flared cuffs. It had blue detailing that mirrored his trousers, which were tucked into combat style boots. Draped elegantly around his shoulders was a cloak of equally light cream, made from only the most lavish fabric available in the galaxy, with swirling patterns of blue at its edges. But it was more than just an outfit, it also displayed his heritage, being from Ukatis.

As they slowly approached the grand hall, his emerald orbs widened, and his attention momentarily shifted to Cora with a warm smile. “Coco, this is going to be even cooler than a Holo-Drama,” he said smoothly. “And.. I promise I won’t eat all of the cake.”

In one hand, the teen held a datapad, prepared to record special moments when the opportunity presented itself. Gazing down, he couldn't resist admiring his own image for a second; the mask's ingredients seemed to work like Force enhancement, brightening his complexion. Rather than being distracted by it any longer, he decided to slip the device into an available pocket for now. “If they have a dance floor, I bet Roman Vossari and I will kill it.”

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

Location: Sitting in the back
Attire: Pale Gold Dress
Tags: Open


Jedi Master Katarine Ryiah stood at the edge of the grand hall, the shimmering glow of Hapan chandeliers reflecting off her pale gold dress, an unusual and delicate choice for a Jedi. She felt out of place amid the opulence, the silken robes of Hapan nobility draped in ornate patterns and jewels, a stark contrast to the simplicity she preferred. Taking a seat near the back of the room, she adjusted the folds of her dress, the subtle fabric whispering against her skin as she tried to blend into the shadows. The air buzzed with excitement and expectation, but Katarine's gaze remained steady, watching the royal procession with a quiet focus. She was here as a representative of the New Jedi Order and by extension The Galactic Alliance but she did not truly feel as if she belonged in this world. For all her training, there was something about the pomp and tradition of the Hapan court that left her feeling like a stranger in this world of beauty and politics.

She wasn't sure what to buy a royal couple who has everything so she had selected a small gift that had more sentimental value than anything else. She had never met the bride or the groom and felt a little ill at ease, as if at any moment someone would ask her to leave for being out of place. Back in her day the Jedi didn't do things like this as attachments were forbidden, and even if they did attend a wedding as a diplomat they would be dressed in robes. She smoothed her pale gold dress almost neurotically, and fidget with her hair that was twisted up. She'd managed to conceal most of the white streaks in her hair, a souvenir from her time spent in carbon freeze. The Jedi Master watched the crowed and continued to fidget feeling very out of place in such elegance.

 

[Liin Terallo]

I have never been to a wedding before. And never had I expected to be invited not by those that the wedding was for, but by Mister Dashiell. In truth I had not heard of Hades Consortium, nor of the soon-to-be-newlyweds. Yet here I am. Part of me accepted the invitation in order to see what a large wedding ceremony was like. I have never been married, nor have I even been on a date or courted by any possible suitors. So an almost childlike wonder was there. And the other part of me saw it for surely what Mister Dashiell had invited me here as his guest for; to gain more business contracts for NCBC and the N&Z Umbrella Corporation Laboratories. Work is my life, afterall.

And If it was one thing that I knew about weddings, it was how to dress. Let the bride be the most impressive. I cannot see colors, but I can more often than not, pick out white. So I made sure to stray far away from anything close to that. So I chose a spotted dress that would surely not stand out.

I arrive to the venue by landspeeder, and upon my exit I quietly wait for Mister Dashiell to arrive. He does hold our invitations afterall.

Tag: Judah Dashiell

 

[Roman Vossari]

Tags: Anneliese Kaohal

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The doors of the grand hall swung inward, revealing a spectacle that stole Roman Vossari's breath. He'd seen opulence before, of course, in the lavish homes of Serenno's ruling class, but this was something else entirely. The Palace wasn't just grand, it was a symphony of light and color, a shimmering testament to the wealth and power of the Hapes Consortium. His eyes traced the soaring mosaic ceiling, the floating orbs, the vibrant floral arrangements, absorbing the sheer magnitude of the occasion. He couldn't help but think his father could probably learn a thing or two about tasteful decor from the Hapans.

A reluctant guest to be sure, Roman almost didn't come to this. It was another one of his father's hare-brained schemes to make connections, to get him involved in the family business. Still, if he could squeeze a weekend out of it with Anneliese, then he would go. The formal invitation had been delivered all the way out to Serenno, and his father had demanded him to go. Representing the House of Vossari was, according to his father, incredibly important.

He cut a striking figure amidst the shimmering Hapan nobility. His clothing, while clearly designed for formality, spoke of his Serenno roots. A long, dark brown tunic, crafted from supple, almost suede-like material, draped elegantly over his wide shoulders. Intricate embroidery in shades of forest green and burnt brown adorned the neckline and cuffs, subtly echoing the natural beauty of his home planet. Matching trousers and boots with intricate leather straps completed the ensemble.

He held Anneliese's arm gently, guiding her into the hall. Her presence was as much a comfort to him as it was to her. Roman found a spot somewhere in the middle of the hall, making sure Anneliese had a good view. The sheer number of faces and bodies was dizzying, but Roman looked around, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd. He imagined that even way out here, he might see familiar faces. "Do you see Corazona von Ascania or Lysander von Ascania anywhere?" he asked, tilting his head slightly toward her. "Lysander and I are going to kill it on the dance floor later." he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes, a rare display of genuine enthusiasm. It was obvious that he was eager to see his friends, eager to blow off the pomp and circumstance with some fun.

But then, his gaze, always drawn back to her, softened. His attention focused entirely on Anneliese. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a brief, tender kiss. "You look gorgeous today." he said, his voice low and sincere, the weight of his father's expectations momentarily forgotten. In the midst of the grandeur and the political maneuvering, with all the eyes watching him, all Roman cared about was the woman at his side.

 

[Shaya Khal]

THE FOUNTAIN PALACE
Astor Daaray

The private dressing chamber in the Fountain Palace radiated unmatched opulence. Its walls seemed alive under the refractive glow of chandeliers crafted from polished transparisteel and rare Gallinorean crystal. A faint hum of activity seeped through the thick doors, muffled by layers of velvet drapery, while outside, the galaxy waited for the couple's grand entrance - though to her it was her grand entrance. Inside, chaos reigned beneath a thin veil of control. Shaya, standing in front of a full-length mirror framed in obsidian and inlaid with delicate pearls, was the center of it all. Her golden-brown hair, styled into an updo via an intricate labyrinth of braids, had already been adjusted no fewer than three times. Each sapphire woven into her updo had to catch the light perfectly—symbolizing wisdom and loyalty, projecting an image of trustworthiness while subtly reinforcing her authority—it was all calculated.

Her voice, cool and commanding, filled the room. “No. That bead isn’t flush. Adjust it. And the fragrance—this isn’t right. It’s far too sweet. I…want the Queen’s Heart blend—subtle, but unmistakable.”

Her handmaidens rushed to comply, one carefully reworking a section of her braids, another preparing a fresh spritz of her signature perfume, a rare blend sourced from flowers native to Gallinore. Others knelt at her feet, ensuring the hem of her gown—a masterpiece of flowing silver fabric embroidered with shimmering blue and gold threads—was flawless in its drape. Shaya turned an intricately carved dagger over in her hand—It was a treasured piece from her collection, the engraved sigil of House Khal stood out. The blade’s delicate balance mirrored the poise she demanded of herself—and everyone around her.

Shaya’s presence dominated the room with an effortless charisma that left little room for error or excuses. Her mannerisms reflected a woman who had attained a master over the art of control, blending charm with a subtle edge of intimidation. Every detail mattered, every choice deliberate. The sapphires, the scent, the gown, the sheen of her lips—all meticulously curated to tell the galaxy what Shaya Khal wanted it to believe: she was, in her opinion, perfection personified, the future queen the Consortium deserved.

“Tell me,” she said suddenly, her tone sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room. “What do you think of the Pal'da?”

The handmaidens exchanged uncertain glances, unsure if the question was rhetorical. One, braver than the rest, ventured, “He is… charming, my lady. A man of great presence.”

Shaya snorted softly, turning the dagger again. “Charming? He’s insufferable. Arrogant, spoiled, and far too accustomed to freedom for a male.” Her blue eyes flicked to the mirror, where her reflection gazed back at her with a knowing smirk. “Astor Daaray thinks himself clever, but he has never had to work for his position. It’s been handed to him, as if his existence alone were an achievement.” The handmaidens stayed silent, their eyes fixed on their tasks as Shaya continued, her voice growing colder. “He’s far too much like me,” she admitted, the corners of her mouth twisting into a wry smile. “And that’s why I can’t stand him. The way he moves through life with that effortless charm, as if every room belongs to him… It’s nauseating.”

Pausing, she traced the hilt of the dagger, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “But I will admit,” she added begrudgingly, “his taste in partners is impeccable. Perhaps the only redeeming quality about him.” Her gaze grew distant for a moment, a rare flicker of something genuine breaking through her usual poise. “In that, I suppose we share an understanding.”

Her smirk returned, sharper now, as her attention snapped back to the handmaidens. “But don’t mistake my respect for his preferences as admiration. This union is a means to an end—my end. And if it humbles him along the way, all the better.”

The handmaidens nodded nervously, offering murmurs of agreement. Shaya twirled the dagger once more before setting it on the ornate table beside her, her expression hardening into determination. “Astor will learn his place,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “Just like everyone else.”

As one of the handmaidens adjusted the drape of her train for the fifth time, Shaya tilted her head, arching a perfectly shaped brow. “Do you want me to trip down the aisle? Just move.” she commanded, her voice saccharine with just a hint of malice, as she kicked her off.

The door creaked open, the motion cutting through the tension in the room. Shaya froze, her grip tightening on the dagger. Her gaze flicked to the mirror, where she caught sight of her mother, Mirella Khal, entering. Mirella’s cobalt gown swept the floor like a tide of authority, her sharp features betraying no emotion but the slightest hint of judgment. The handmaidens immediately scattered, bowing their heads as Mirella’s eyes swept over the room.

Her gaze lingered on the dagger in Shaya’s hand before locking onto her daughter’s reflection in the mirror. “You have them running like frightened mice,” Mirella remarked, her voice as smooth and sharp as silk over steel.

Shaya set the dagger down with calculated precision, turning to face her mother. “And yet, everything will be perfect,” she replied, her tone measured, though her polished facade seemed to dim slightly under her mother’s scrutiny. Mirella stepped closer, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “It must be. This is not just a wedding, Shaya. It’s a declaration. Of unity. Of strength. Of dominance. Today, you are not just marrying a prince—you are claiming the Consortium itself.”

Shaya’s carefully constructed mask flickered, and for a brief moment, the weight of the day threatened to overwhelm her. Her voice softened, betraying an edge of vulnerability. “Do you think I don’t know that?”

Mirella’s lips thinned as she reached out to adjust an errant fold in Shaya’s gown. “I think you need reminding,” she said coolly. “Ambition is your strength, but arrogance will be your downfall. Do not forget who you represent.” For the first time today, Shaya felt small—not the composed queen-in-waiting, but a daughter striving to meet impossible expectations. She looked away, her voice quiet. “I won’t fail.”

Mirella’s expression softened—barely. She stepped back, smoothing her own gown. “See that you don’t. The stars may align because you command them, but the galaxy admires precision. Show them why you deserve this.”

As Mirella turned to leave, Shaya’s gaze fell back to the dagger, her fingers brushing the hilt. “Leave it,” Mirella said over her shoulder without turning. “Your words today will cut deeper than any blade.”

The door closed behind her mother with a soft click, leaving Shaya alone with her reflection. For a moment, her carefully curated mask slipped entirely, revealing the storm of emotions she had hidden. Then, with a deep breath, she straightened, adjusted her gown, and set the dagger aside for the final time.

 

[Kalantha]

Tying a Golden Knot

The kind Hapan breeze was welcome in Kalantha's hair, much to the chagrin of the Royal Handmaidens who toiled not only to style it stunningly, but also to match it in the even a decoy become necessary. There was little need for such measures, Kalantha was sure, but it was almost as traditional as their elaborate attire for the Queen of Naboo to be accompanied by handmaidens ready to assume her place at a moment's notice. It was strongly recommended by Rectress Shineke Dravenné as well, who Kalantha turned toward and offered a kind smile.

Rectress Dravenné had accompanied the queen on behalf of the Daughters of the Scar, and while she and the attaché of Daughters that had come along had been the focus of curious stares from the Hapan nobles and their bedfellows, Kalantha was very grateful for their presence. As the procession neared its commencement, the queen leaned toward her new friend and colleague.

"It's been quite some time since I've been to a royal wedding, especially one of this size and importance; I'm a bit nervous." Kalantha hadn't know the rectress all that long, but in their short time working together, she had come to appreciate the woman's counsel and advice. Naturally so, she figured, seeing that the Daughters of the Scar were a dedicated branch of political liaisons who softened the transition of new members to the Royal Republic. Kalantha's eyes scanned the masses while she kept her head close enough to speak quietly without disrespecting the ceremonious atmosphere.

Tags: Shineke Dravenné | OPEN(ish)​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Open

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Lorn leaned against the cool, ornate wall, the polished surface a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from the assembled crowd. The grand ceremonial hall of the Fountain Palace was, in a word, excessive. It was a spectacle of light and color, a dizzying display of wealth that pressed in on him.. His mother's tales of Hapan society, with their sharp edges and hidden agendas, echoed in his mind. He shifted uncomfortably, the stiff fabric of his borrowed finery feeling foreign against his skin. He'd sought his mother's help in putting this outfit together. An act of silly desperation, he admitted as he looked down and adjusted the sleeve at his wrist. He knew he could have gone out and bought something, but her touch seemed like the right one, and that's enough of a reason for him.

His gaze swept through the hall. Nobles in shimmering silks, foreign dignitaries in their finery, a whirlwind of whispered conversations and carefully calculated glances. He was a stranger here, a simple man from Naboo amidst a sea of power and influence. Yet, his presence had been requested, especially with the Queen in attendance. He was here to observe, to provide an extra layer of protection, even if his plain presence felt out of place in this gilded cage.

A small smile touched Lorn's lips as his thoughts drifted back. The last wedding he had attended was a memorable one, standing alongside Darrow as his best friend had chosen his own path in life. It had been a gathering of family and friends, not lords and ladies. A genuine celebration, not a political maneuver. He remembered the laughter, the dancing, and the warm feeling of shared joy. That had been a wedding worth remembering.

His smile faded as he watched the room quiet, the murmur of conversation dying away as a hush fell over everyone. The Queen had entered, her presence commanding attention without any need for gaudy embellishments or unnecessary gestures. She moved with a quiet grace, her entourage of Daughters flanking her, faces serene. Lorn's eyes followed her, noting the subtle shifts in her expression as she took in the room.

He wondered how she would navigate this foreign court, how the Hapans would react to her. But more than that, he was intrigued by how Hapan traditions would unfold. What would a wedding of such consequence look like in this society? He leaned a bit more against the wall, finding himself waiting with a low hum of anticipation.

 

[Shineke Dravenné]

What a first outing as rectress of the Daughters of the Scar.

And what a treat to behold at least two wonderous shows of traditions merge into one—one in the spotlight and the other as part of the crowd. Shineke was admittedly no expert on any culture outside of the Naboo humans', thus she did not have an opinion on them for their own merits but was of the general persuasion that a people ought to stick by their traditions. It was a projection plain and simple, but since Naboo had in great part, and in her opinion, found its way through a very tumultuous period of its history by remaining true to its other cultural tenants, which had allowed it to return to a state of domestic peace, it was only natural that she valued tradition in general.

Shineke leaned towards her queen and adopted a similar volume as her in order to keep their conversation private. "You are nothing less than grace itself, your majesty," she said. "No disrespect meant to the Hapans, of course; I only mean that nerves do not disturb you. You carry them very well."

She turned her head gracefully, as not to upset her own updo of white hair, to look at Kalantha. Her tone turned a bit playful when she noticed a bead of liquid at her temple. "Sweat, on the other hand..." And then it was as if a fine handkerchief had materialized in Shineke's hand. It surely hadn't come out of her sleeveless, embroidered red dress, had it? "May I?"

Kalantha + OPEN(ish)​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Outfit: XoXo | Hair: XoXo | Tag: Open | Indirect tag: Astor Daaray
​

“You should know I cannot do that,” he began to reply, as his face slowly set back to neutral, his mouth resuming a line as other lines relaxed - as he put back on the mask, though his hands remained where they were, “do your Jedi senses not feel the disquiet in the realm?”

Astor's words and mannerisms from a few weeks back played out over and over in her mind, like a broken holo-record, as the day of the wedding fast approached.

During those weeks since their meeting, Briana had paid more attention to the fluctuations of the Force — though it was always difficult to parse, when it came to Hapes. The world seemed perpetually in a state of flux, political storms always brewing beneath the surface. Murderous attempts and wicked feelings were more or less the norm, as she well knew — and Briana couldn't tell if the hard, solid pit, that'd taken residence deep in her stomach was because of her own negative feelings towards Astor's arranged marriage, or if it was because there was something else. Something hidden just beyond her reach, in the darkness between stars.

Briana inhaled softly, dismissing the thoughts into the nether of her mind with a soft scoff.

More than likely, it was her own paranoia coming into play, having a notoriously bad track record of attending events like these, only for them go awry in the end. Not to mention the negative repercussions that'd come for her, once upon a time, when it'd become public knowledge that she and Astor had been an item — however briefly. Consequences that'd almost cost Aiden his life when he'd taken a blaster bolt to the chest for her.

It was why, when entering into what she knew to be a vipers nest of chiffon and glitter — that she wished she'd found a way, or legitimate excuse, to bring along her lightsaber for the comforting sense of reassurance it brought her.

Had this wedding been for anyone else...

But as it was, it wasn't for just anyone else, and Briana had given Astor her word. Her word that she would be here. That she'd try to honor and support the decision he'd resolved to make for the good of Hapes and his people, for his sister and the crown she wore— reasons Briana could understand and respect. There wasn't much she wouldn't do for her family, Queen, and by extension, Naboo.

She just hoped he wouldn't live to regret it, hoped that both the Hapan people, and his future wife, would see him for the treasure he was.

When her name was called to be seated among the guests of the Pal'da, Briana moved with graceful steps to join the masses, smoothing any fly-away hair back into the updo that was as intricate as a work of Naboo art; dark strands pulled and twisted into a thick and whimsy loose braid that cascaded down her back, while delicate curls, intentionally left undone, framed her face. Tiny pearls and sprigs of rominaria were nestled strategically throughout the braid, their subtle sparkle complementing the shimmering beads and pearls embellished along the neckline and bodice of her off-shoulder strapped gown that flowed elegantly to the floor.

Her lashes raised, blue gaze sweeping the grand hall as she was escorted to her place, a few rows back from the front. The Pal'da's wedding was a spectacle unlike anything she'd witnessed in years — possibly not since the wedding of Romi Jade — and exceedingly extravagant, even by Hapan standards.

Moving to her designated seat, Briana gave a polite, practiced smile to each noblewoman and dignitary who joined the swelling rows of high-backed chairs arrayed in neat perfection. Crossing her ankles, Briana smoothed her gown and folded her hands delicately in her lap, glancing towards the ceremonial altar at the far end of the hall, where the royal officiants would soon gather.

She imagined Astor somewhere beyond these high, arched doors, grappling with whatever final rites or formalities Hapes demanded of him before the ceremony began. Tugging on the faint connection in the Force that once shone bright, but had mostly corroded from years of disuse, Briana tried to send him whatever verdant wave of comfort and peace that she could, hoping that it might reach him.

It was the only kindness she could think to offer.

​

 

[Vemric Keldra]

KELDRA
FOUNTAIN PALACE | HAPES
TAG: Sentapoth Findos | Open

HALL OF THE MOUNTAIN KING​

Weddings.

Such a waste of time while the rest of the Galaxy burned. But he supposed bread and spectacle was the only way to control the masses - for a time. If history was anything to go on, it wouldn't last.

The Sephi had received an invitation same as many other heads of state, but it was quite an ordeal to get out the Confederate door so to speak. Xazzex Xivar was able to make anyone feel inferior with that gold, predatory gaze of hers - even him. Sometimes he was happy that she was the one that headed the Parliamentary meetings, but other times she made his head hurt with her incredible logic when it comes to matters of state. Why she wasn't Head of State, Vemric didn't know. He much preferred the bridge of a ship than the head of a nation.

Then he didn't have to attend the pomp and spectacle such as this.

He had left the Falleen to babysit the State, not she was happy. He knew where her mind went. If something happened to him, she was stuck heading a nation. She was capable of burning the place down if that ever happened. So he had fled before she could eat him alive.

Now he was stuck at this to-do.

Vemric swept into the hall, his military yet regal stature towering over most as his sky-clad gaze scanned the area. The guests were behaving like guests should. Everyone except the military types in the room. His own, century-long experience had his skin crawling as well. Only recently, another politically social gathering had ended in disaster in his own territory. A shadow lurked somewhere here as well.

Either that, or what happened on the Station just had him paranoid, which he doubted.

Paranoia held no dominion over him.

His eyes fell on a familiar Neimoidian who's face looked like the Sephi felt. He swept forward, only to appear next to the nervous man.
"General." Vemric's aloof baritone greeted the Trade Federation representative without looking at him. "You feel it too, I see." His eyes still lazily swept the room.

"Mayhaps we should let their guards worry about security and let ourselves relax, hm?" ​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Eloise Dinn + Open​

Save a few Alliance nepo babies from being auctioned off by Rishi pirates and score a couple invitations to a fancy Hapan wedding as reward. Diogo would've preferred a couple million creds wired directly into his bank account, but whatever. It was fine.

That didn't stop himself from asking What the hell am I doing here? for the umpteenth time. He definitely didn't fit in. Eloise looked like she belonged, though. He could've sworn she was Hapan. She was beautiful in a way that made him think she not only owned the universe, but commanded it.

Yeah, he was smitten. It wasn't clear what was brewing between them or where they would go from here. Diogo just knew he was happy to be with her and when they were apart, he craved that nervous excitement her presence filled him with.

When her stomach made a rumbling sound, he raised an eyebrow. "Was that you?" He bent his head down and then her stomach rumbled again, a bit louder this time, as if confirming. Diogo laughed quietly. His stomach rumbled, too, as if it were contagious. Letting go of her hand, he fished in his inner coat pocket for a package of dried, thinly-sliced jogan fruit. "Here," he held it out to her. "One of us came prepared."

 

[Ceri Fraissi]

SPARKY
FOUNTAIN PALACE | HAPES
TAG: Caelan Valoren | Open

ROYALS​

Party!

Well sort of. This one was just smart, is all. Either way, new place to make friends. The music needed work though. It was a bit slow. Maybe she could twist someone's arm later to wake it up a bit so that people can dance.

Ceri all but bubbled into the hall, large eyes trying to procure a seat before the Queen arrived, which she had spotted just a few minutes ago. As Ceri scanned for an open spot, she saw that Master Briana Sal-Soren was already seated.
"Ooooo snap, I better sit my butt down." she mumbled before making a beeline for an open seat she finally spotted.

She plonked down in the chair, only to see some others open as well. The one next to her was occupied by a bubble of purple though. It took her a moment to realise that there was a guy hidden in all the cloth. She was silently relieved he wasn't some strange species that she'll have trouble communicating with, so words bubbled unbidden out of her mouth.

"Hot darnit, everything's so fancy. D'you think they'll relax a bit later and just have fun?"

 

[Kahne Porte]

Tags: Briana Sal-Soren
Wearing: This

There was such an extravagance to Hapes, and the Jedi truly felt out of place every time he came here. While dressed in a nice manner, still felt that he was completely underdressed despite what the rest of individuals around him did. Good things these events didn't happen very often....

Right...

The Jedi Master glanced around briefly taking note of several whom he had known and others that he didn't. Seats were filling up rather quickly so he had taken to find a seat quickly. The Jedi noted Briana from a distance and he moved down the aisles and took a seat next to her.

"Good greetings Briana." The Jedi Master said as he sat comfortably, his hands resting together. Scanning the room again, just as quick precaution, these events were not know to be the most of calm.

"You look nice."

 

[Judah Dashiell]

HAPES

Liin Terallo , OPEN
​

Less a wedding, more a business and networking event.

At least, thats how Judah saw his day going. Did he know the couple? Absolutely not. Was he Hapan? Very distantly. Yet his son had a home on Gallinore and was opening mines in the region, so Dashiell Incorporated and Aina Holdings were slowly making their way into the Hapan Cluster. Even though he would be just another pretty face in the crowd, perhaps he would meet a few business sentients at the reception. If not, free food and drink was always a balm to soothe the lack of a productive day.

Wearing a simple black-and-white tux, Judah disembarked from his chauffeured speeder and immediately spotting Director Terallo. Approaching her, her held out his arm to escort her inside.

"You look great Director. Did you have an uneventful trip here?" Judah knew navigation in this region could be very dicey." We should head inside and settle in."

​