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

[Thayze Montserrat]

|| TYING A KNOT ||
Head in the Clouds - Chapter 1

OUTFIT: Black Formal Dress
TAG: Open

Spoiler: THEME

FOUNTAIN PALACE, HAPES

When the galaxy is painted red and ash, only Gods can call for it’s pause, with a drizzle of gold and wine.

Eyes are locked in on the entrance of a family of three. In the center, dressed in a simple yet striking black dress, is the Contessa-in-exile of House Palerma of Serenno, Lady Giulia Palerma. Having her arm on her right, departing from the signature black of House Palerma is her husband, The Most Exalted Hugo Montserrat Segura. His color of choice, crimson and gold, signify his legal exploit of war and tyranny all over the galaxy that bankrolls the family’s relevancy in the galactic game of thrones, even after the exile of his beloved wife from her thorny seat in Serenno. Yet, his less than regal choices of fabric cuts and ornaments shape shine lights to the fact that nobility cannot ever be bought. On her left is the sole heir to their might and money, Jedi Padawan Thayze Montserrat Palerma.

Coming to the wedding as the heir of House Palerma, Thayze has dressed for the occasion. Gone is the long coat, comfy shirt, and knight armor, replaced with a black formal dress, House Palerma signet proudly displayed on it. Those unfamiliar wouldn’t mistake the boy for a Jedi Padawan in a million years, and those who knew would take a second look to see if it’s the same Thayze who’s been honing his skills in Naboo Temple for the past six years.

“They do let anyone come to their wedding, how curious,” the matriarch of the family quipped in a heavily accented High Galactic, almost disguised as something entirely foreign.

“The influence of the Galactic Alliance, I suppose,” her husband chuckles, answering in a more neutral accent as he takes a glass of wine from one of the server.

As the adults continued their chatter, Thayze’s eyes wandered around the room for familiar faces and figures. The room is full of people, prominent figures, nobodies, and everything in between mingling in the great hall. He has spotted The Confederacy’s magnificent head of state and a Trade Federation representative, and the Queen of Naboo and a Daughter of Scar. On the other side of the room, he also noticed the Princess of Ukatis and her younger brother, who is also a Padawan of the Order of Shiraya. Thayze wondered what his parents thought of the Von Ascania, knowing that they hailed from a less illustrious planet, and the scandal that followed the family. On another side is a Vossari, seemingly around his age, with a partner. No sight of his parents around, but that would be an interesting encounter. Seated somewhere near is a young man, seemingly a royalty of some kind, donned in purple attire. Beside him is a younger girl who he recognized as his Master other Padawan, Ceri Fraissi . Thayze took a Mental note to talk to her later, and to try locating his Master.

That didn’t take long, since he located Briana Sal-Soren seated in another side of the hall. Thayze waved his hand at his Master, if she sees it, his parents hadn’t properly met her after all, he should introduce the two parties. However, just before he went to tell her parents to follow him, someone else had taken a seat beside her, blocking him access to that row. A second glance revealed that Thayze is familiar with said guy. Master Briana and Master Kahne, how interesting.

Deciding against going across the hall to interrupt the two, Thayze stayed beside Lady Giulia, as she introduced him to an acquaintance. There should be time to mingle on his own, but later.​

​

 

[Sentapoth Findos]

/:/ Tag: Vemric Keldra

The Neimoidian stood paralyzed with fear as a figure materialized beside him, his gaze shifting cautiously to the left, progressing slowly until he recognized the individual as none other than Vemric Keldra , the Head of State for the Confederacy.

A quiet sigh of relief escaped him, for it was not an assassin or a mere mercenary intent on troubling the Trade Federation, but rather a being characterized by a chilling demeanor and a notable absence of warmth.

Such initial relief was soon overshadowed by the increasing number of attendees at the wedding, each individual representing a potential threat or harboring ulterior motives that could jeopardize the ceremony. This raised concerns about the possibility of becoming embroiled in a violent confrontation should hostilities erupt that the Security Forces would be unable to handle.

"Certainly, Lord Kaldera. My species possesses a heightened sensitivity to paranoia and fear, as you are likely aware. However, I can confidently affirm that I remain mentally capable of fulfilling my duties to the Confederacy." Sentapoth expressed his thoughts after gathering a measure of confidence, as he was apprehensive about the possibility of the Trade Federation usurping his position as Governor of Abrion Major.

He harbored a deep-seated aversion to the prospect of resuming active duty on the battlefield, particularly in light of the traumatic experiences he had endured while combating the Galactic Alliance. Bony fingers clutched the sections of the robe that enveloped him, while Lord Kaldera explained his assurance that the security forces were fully capable of managing any potential complications and that it would be more beneficial for him to remain at ease.

"The last time the galaxy gathered for such an important event, the Grandmaster's Consort ended up assaulting a innocent man on Naboo. So forgive me for not dropping my highten caution and concern that something similiar could happen to anyone even myself, a frail and thin-boned Neimoidian." He spoke with a gentle smile, despite the overwhelming fear coursing through him, reluctant to envision himself in the situation where the Grandmaster's Husband would assault them for any perceived slight, whether real or imagined.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

“Coco, this is going to be even cooler than a Holo-Drama,” he said smoothly

One precisely manicured eyebrow rose, though not with disdain.

"Let us hope that this event does not end like a holodrama."

They'd spent the night before the wedding binging on their favorite show - Upton Manor, season 6. In the morning they'd preened together. Cora couldn't remember a time when they'd shared in something so relaxing and delightful - not after Lysander had elected to leave home and train as a Jedi, at least.

With her brother on her right arm, her left hand adjusted the tulle of her flowing skirt. The siblings had coordinated their outfits; calm blues paired with cream hues whispered of their heritage from the agriworld of Ukatis. A place not nearly as grand or opulent as Hapes.

From her purse, Cora retrieved a decorative fan. It hovered over the lower half of her face as she scanned the crowd for familiar faces and lingering glances of the sharp-eyed Hapan aristocracy. That was one thing the matriarchal society had in common with Ukatis; a pleasant exterior and plenty of pomp were smoothed over a palpable tension. "If we don't see Roman Vossari and Anneliese Kaohal before the ceremony, I'm certain we'll find them soon after."

As Cora’s gaze passed over the altar, a brief wave of nausea swept through her at the recollection of her own wedding day. They filed quietly into their seats, and she spied a head of familiar hair a few rows away.

"Oh, is that…I think that's Caelan Valoren . He's a Padawan in the Order, about your age. You two might get along - he is also a Prince."

Another brow went up, as if to say I know what lies you've been telling, brother.

Ben Khal was here too, seated near the front with his parents. They'd only met once, but something about the young Hapan's demeanor hadn't sat right with her in a sorrowful sort of way.

"Do you think you can make it through the ceremony without your stomach growling?" she teased.

Glancing to her brother, she was struck by another memory, this one more pleasant. One where, years ago, she'd knelt to help a much younger Lysander button up his waistcoat before an event. Now he was a hair taller than her, with room to grow.

Behind her fan, her lips tilted into a little smile.

 

[Caelan Valoren]

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

Caelan hadn't even realized someone had sat down beside him, let alone a girl he didn't know. Too busy was he in admiring the architecture that he'd gotten blindsided. Didn't help that his sense skills were off the charts bad. Still, he had at least expected to have someone sit beside him at some point. It was a big event with lots of people invited. Someone was bound to sit next to him.

"I'm sure they will," he answered the girl as he turned to look at her. "The ceremony is usually the most formal part. Things tend to loosen up at the reception."

She was interesting. Spunky, cute, fascinated with everything the same way he was. Looked a little older than him, and seemed nice. Potential friend! At the very least it was someone new to meet. So, he stuck his hand out towards her.

"Caelan Valoren, Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Devit on Lazerian IV and apprentice to Jedi Knight Dreidi Xeraic ."

Over her shoulder he spotted Corazona von Ascania and lifted his other hand to wave at her. He didn't know who the boy was standing beside her, but given the striking resemblance between the two of them, he had to guess it was her brother. Caelan wondered if he was like his sister. If he was, they could be good friends. He'd have to make a point of meeting the other von Ascania when the ceremony was over and they moved to the reception. That would allow more time for meeting people.

---

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

TAGS: Ceri Fraissi​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Red Dress | Wedding Ring

Valery entered the ceremonial hall of the Fountain Palace with a gentle grace. Her dress, a stunning crimson masterpiece with intricate gold accents tracing along the high neckline and flowing down the slits of the fabric, captured the essence of both elegance and strength. The fitted design hugged her frame perfectly, accentuating her figure while the long slit along one side allowed her movements to remain fluid and confident. Her dark hair was swept up into an intricate style, adorned with subtle golden pins that caught the ethereal light, casting a soft glow that complemented her fiery amber eyes.

She paused for a moment at the entrance, letting her gaze sweep across the grandeur of the hall. The abundance of light reflecting off the crystal ceiling danced over her features, adding to the almost regal air she carried. Her expression remained composed but with a subtle warmth that softened the intensity of her presence. She had come alone, a choice that allowed her to move through the ceremony as an observer, unburdened by the weight of diplomatic ties or companions.

Valery's footsteps were light but deliberate as she moved further into the hall. The murmurs of the gathered nobility barely reached her ears, her focus instead drawn to the atmosphere of the room — the balance of tension and elegance, the subtle interplay of power and expectation. She found a seat toward the side of the aisle, her placement unassuming yet still offering her a clear view of the proceedings. As she settled into her chair, the fabric of her dress shifted like liquid fire, catching the soft glow of the floating orbs above.

She crossed one leg over the other and rested her hands lightly on her lap, the polished obsidian floor reflecting the faint shimmer of her gold accents. Her gaze flicked briefly toward the elevated dais, lingering on the ceremonial altar before shifting back to the assembled crowd. Alone but far from unnoticed, Valery exuded a quiet confidence that seemed to carve out a space for her amidst the grandeur. Here, amidst the spectacle of Hapan politics and tradition, she was both a part of the moment and apart from it.

Open​

 

[Amani Serys]

Eloise Dinn - Diogo Talon​

To her own surprise, this was the first time Amani was actually breaking out the ruby red dress she had been given by Thelma Goth. She wondered where that poor girl was now. The dress itself was a bit more extravagant than Amani usually cared to present for an event like this, but it's not like she could very well wear the white dress to a wedding.

After much preliminary niceties, Amani took an opportunity to slip away from the congregation of political bigwigs to find herself a seat. Slipping through the rows, she spotted a familiar head of hair from behind. Could it be? Surely not.

And yet, it was. Eloise, her padawan, at a royal wedding of all places. And of all the things she could be doing she was snuggling up next to a boy. Amani's lips curled into a smile.

"Eloise?" Amani said, laying her hands on the back of the empty seat on the other side of her padawan, "What are you doing here? And… who is this?" She glanced at Diogo. She was genuinely curious, but there was also a sly knowingness to her questions, as if she had just caught Eloise in the middle of something, and was merely fishing for an admission.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Corazona von Ascania

​

Lysander turned his head ever so slightly, the corners of his mouth curling into a soft smile as images of different Holodramas played in his mind’s eye; he was well acquainted with them. The younger blonde considered her words a moment longer. "Why, dear sister," he replied with a note of mischief, "you know, my shows always end on a good note. I'm sure everything will be fine.”

His gaze drifted to the fan next, admiration clear in his eyes. Pursing his lips thoughtfully, he noted how it manage to add an air of sophistication to Cora's appearance. A small nod suggested approval.

Together, they moved through the crowds, and Lysander's scanned the area for his brother among the sea of people. Despite being apart for only a couple weeks, they had managed to exchange a handful of messages through the HoloNet, sharing stories with natural camaraderie. It felt like just yesterday they were hanging out on Serreno.

As they found their seats and Cora spoke of Caelan Valoren , his attention became more focused. “Might? I tend to get along with just about everyone,” he interjected. “You should know that by now. Perhap you could introduce us later? I wouldn't mind meeting another prince.”

Before long a hand up behind his head in a rather carefree gesture. A light shade of crimson touched his cheeks as a laugh was bubbling just below the surface. Instead, a boyish grin appeared. “I’d say it’s highly unlikely. I've been thinking about food ever since we left the hotel."

He took a second to absorb more of their surroundings. "You know," he began, the excitement in his tone clear, "it won't be long before you and Makko's big day comes." The words rolled off his tongue smoothly. “I’m just really happy that you found someone who treats you well. You deserve nothing less." There were countless questions swirling around in his mind regarding the topic, but he didn't want to be annoying. Not yet. “What do you like most about him? Does he have a solid game plan for when you get.. hangry?”

 

[Serena Harth]

Open​

Serena wasn't quite prepared for just how out of place she felt at an event like this. Her parents were well off, but they lived pretty modestly. This was on a whole other level. Most everyone else here was some sort of aristocrat, or CEO, or politician or military figure or some other mover and shaker in the galaxy. Serena was only here because she was a reporter. She wasn't even leading this story either; That would be her co-worker, an uptight Tholothian who seemed just as interested in making sure she was on camera as her subjects. Serena was just supposed to be gathering a half-decent fluff piece to accompany the main event.

"Okay, just keep it chill," She muttered to herself, fidgeting with the microphone on her jacket. Thank the Force this wasn't live, or she'd be absolutely floundering right now. This lack of confidence was frustratingly unlike her, and yet now that she was thrust onto the scene, she was feeling the pressure big time. "Make sure you get some nice b-roll while we're waiting," Serena reminded both herself, "You got that?" And her accompanying cam-droid. The hovering X-0X model dipped itself forward in imitation of a nod, then began recording long shots of the decor and mingling guests. "Welcome to the big leagues, dummy…"

 

[Liram Angellus]

Tying a Golden Knot​

In the field, at a Naval Station, in a meeting, on the deck, on the bridge, you would not see Admiral Angellus showing any kind of regret. You would see intensity, you would see tactile thinking and most of all, you would see strength. So naturally it was difficult for him to deal with a teenage son who grew up looking up to him and now looking at him like he was some kind of hindrance. Switching seats with Alyksandra so that she could have a chat with one of the other wives who was there, Liram tried to speak to the boy on his level(not an insult).

It didn’t work.

The boy is smart, in fact he saw right through it, but his manners, his personal discipline did not allow him to show any disrespect, especially in a place like this. That was a regret of the Admiral as he wanted to be able to have an honest conversation, but again, the boy and he were so much alike. So they lowered their tone even more by Liram asking one of his security detail (who assigned them anyway?) for a datapad. They agreed to write their conversation down on the notepad and hold nothing back.

Liram wrote simply

I get that you’re angry, but this is just a couple of hours, and we will 
talk afterward about your future. I’ve never broken a promise to you.

Michael read this, and though he did not show it outwardly, Liram knew his son and saw the fury in him. A few moments later he handed the datapad back.

You think that I am mad at this?! You still don’t get it! You have been my
hero, my idol growing up. When have you told me anything close to  loving?
I know you love me, you’re supposed to, but you want to send me away!
Who does that to their family! You want to send me away! Why? 
What did I ever do to deserve this? Have I not been a good son?
What do I need to do to fix this? I know the history! Arestul never
sent Kayla or Kameron away. Kayla never sent away Ansie, or Alita,
Kameron never sent away Basto or Guyoa. You get my point here? 
They like their kids, all of them up to Papa, even Great Uncle Caltin.

I know you [I]love[/I] me. I just feel like you don’t [I]like[/I] me.

Liram read this and was speechless.. He felt his heart drop and his stomach fill with dread. He realized he was going to have to confront this. However, to do so right now, properly, in the way that he wanted to would draw attention away from the approaching proceedings, so all he could do right now was put his free hand on the back of his son’s neck and look sorrowful.

Michael wanted to apologize for what he wrote, even looking like he was about to say it, Liram just shook his head and touched his chest signifying that it was on him… they needed to talk but not here.

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Attire: XXX | Tags: Diogo Talon Amani Serys
​

"It was her," Eloise deflected, gesturing to the pompous woman in front of her. She was lucky if she'd be able to see the ceremony through the lady's towering hairdo. But despite her claims to the contrary, her stomach rumbled again. "The food here better be worth the wait," she muttered, accepting one of Dio's chips. She didn't realize it was dried fruit rather than a standard potato chip until she bit into one, though she evidently didn't hate it, given that she reached into the bag to grab a handful.

"Eloise?"

Eloise craned her neck at the sound of a familiar voice right behind her. "Master—Whoa," Eloise blurted as her gaze was inevitably drawn to the glittering ruby red dress Amani wore. She never would've expected Amani of all people to wear something like that, but she had to admit that she was absolutely killing it. "Slay, queen." Nay, slaughter. Massacre, even.

"What are you doing here? And… who is this?"

That knowing smirk. She had seen them canoodling. Eloise straightened her posture, determined to maintain her dignity even as her cheeks flushed. "I was invited," she replied. "And this is Diogo." She jerked a thumb toward the boy. "He's..." Feth it. "... my boyfriend."

 

[Kalantha]

Tying a Golden Knot

The Queen smiled with closed lips, which bore the Scar of Remembrance in its traditional scarlet hue. Kalantha typically wore it in a soft lilac, but at the behest of her advisors, she opted for recognizability over personal preference.

“Please,” she said, welcoming the handkerchief against her temple. Kalantha was a well collected individual, resistant to such obvious displays of discomfort; was it the sheer number of guests in attendance that had put her on edge? Perhaps.

But there was something else in the air, a sourness that lingered behind the sweet scent of flowers and perfume. Kalantha couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was just a feeling. It felt similar to those painful nights after Mother and Father had fights, then pretended as if they hadn’t just said the most awful things to one another when it came time to tuck she and her brothers into bed.

She cut her eyes to Neke, wondering if the wise woman sensed it, too. The rectress’ insight was often sharp as a blade. “Something feels off,” the queen whispered to her friend. Maybe it was nothing... or maybe it was something.

Tags: Shineke Dravenné | OPEN(ish)​

 

[Diogo Talon]

Eloise Dinn + Amani Serys​

"Eloise? What are you doing here? And… who is this?"

Diogo turned his head in tandem with Eloise. Damn, this green woman's fit was was bussin'—no cap.

"Master—Whoa"

Uh, wait... Master?

"I was invited," she replied. "And this is Diogo."

"Hey," Diogo smiled and waved, trying to keep it casual. He held out the bag of dried fruit slices. "Want some?"

"He's..." Feth it. "... my boyfriend."

... Diogo almost lost his grip on the bag. His face flushed a shade of crimson alarmingly similar to the ruby red of the woman's dress. Maybe he thought—or was hoping—this event would be their soft launch of sorts, but Eloise just threw his ass in a catapult and fired. With thoughts swirling, his mind felt denser than the Hapes Cluster. His gaze flickered questioningly to Eloise, then back to the older woman. "Yup, that's me. Nice to meet you...?"

 

[Amani Serys]

Eloise Dinn - Diogo Talon​

"Slay, queen."

"Thanks," Amani replied offhandedly.

To hear that Eloise was invited was a bit of a surprise, "Really…" Even more of a surprise was that she would come at all. And even more of a surprise than that, was her point-blank admission to who this mysterious green-haired fellow was. Diogo. Her boyfriend. "Reeeaaallyyy…." Amani's interest tangibly piqued with the confirmation. "This is news to me." She studied the boy a little more closely now, trying not to make it too obvious she was assessing his character.

Diogo then introduced himself, and awaited her introductions. Amani actually blinked. It was strangely… quaint, to meet someone these days that didn't seem to know know who she was. "Amani Serys-Organa," She made no mention of any honorifics or titles, placing a hand on her hip. "Nice to meet you, too. I'm not sure I recognize you. Are you with the Jedi Order, or, from elsewhere?"

 

[Anneliese Kaohal]

Items: Lightsaber I Engagement Ring I Outfit X X II Equipment X X X I Theme Song I Bloodline Tattoo

Roman Vossari Corazona von Ascania
​

Anneliese's heart raced as she stepped through the grand doors, feeling the overwhelming grandeur of the Hapan Palace wash over her. She had attended many events since joining Roman in his world, but this was something else entirely. The opulence was almost suffocating, a testament to the wealth and power of the Hapes Consortium. She felt a pang of awkwardness, knowing she was the only one not of noble background or royalty.

But then she looked at Roman. His presence was her anchor, a comforting reminder of why she was here. Her dress, a beautiful ensemble matching Roman's attire, was a deep forest green with intricate embroidery that mirrored the patterns on his tunic. The dress hugged her figure elegantly, with a tasteful midriff cut-out that added just a touch of allure without being overly revealing. She felt both beautiful and confident by his side.

As they made their way into the hall, Roman's hand gently guiding her, she couldn't help but feel a little more at ease. His touch was a reassurance that they were in this together. He found them a spot with a good view, and she took a deep breath, trying to absorb the sheer number of faces around them.

When Roman asked about Corazona and Lysander, she scanned the crowd, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "I haven't seen them yet," she replied, her voice light. "But I'm sure they'll turn up. You two on the dance floor? That's something I can't wait to see."

His mischievous glint brought a smile to her face, and she felt a surge of warmth seeing him so genuinely enthusiastic. She knew these events could be tiresome for him, but his excitement to see his friends was infectious.

Then, his gaze softened as it always did when he looked at her. The world seemed to fade away as he brought her hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss on it. Her heart fluttered at his words, and she blushed slightly. "Thank you, Roman. You look incredibly handsome yourself."

In that moment, surrounded by the splendor of the palace and the political maneuvering of the elite, all that mattered to her was the man at her side. She felt a deep sense of gratitude for his love and support.

With a playful smile, she stepped closer, their bodies just inches apart. "I missed you..." she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. Leaning in, she closed the distance between them, her lips locking with his, a fervent kiss. It was a kiss that conveyed all the love and longing she felt, making the grand hall around them momentarily disappear.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Anneliese felt the awkwardness melt away entirely. She was exactly where she was meant to be, with the man she loved, ready to face whatever the night had in store.

"Let's make this a night to remember," she said softly, her eyes sparkling with determination and love. With Roman by her side, she knew they could take on anything.

 

[Shineke Dravenné]

As soon as its job dabbing gently at the queen's made up skin was done, and Neke lowered it away, the handkerchief was gone as mysteriously as it had appeared.

The rectress gave a graceful nob of her head. "It does, doesn't it?" she agreed rhetorically. Like Kalantha, she was unable to explain the intuition. "Strange, given Hapan standards." She cast a glance over her shoulder, trying to locate a handmaiden or two. With any of Shiraya's luck, this uneasy feeling hanging between the queen and herself would not manifest, but it would be handy to be aware of their surroundings if it did. The Daughters weren't bodyguards like the handmaidens; while some had trained in classical fencing, these skills were mostly for show and thus limited in their practicality.

Shineke, in particular, would be of little help if the event turned hostile. She had taken a vow decades ago of nearly complete pacifism. Its conditions allowed her to protect her monarch if harm should be directed towards her or him, but otherwise no violence, even in self-defense, was permitted.

"Sometimes," she continued, sweeping her gaze back to the queen, "when I'm at the theatre, I don't heed the spotlight." She looked front then, but a small smile creeped onto her lips. "When you look elsewhere, you notice all kinds of things."

Kalantha + OPEN(ish)​

 

[Pinda Solthar]

BROADCASTING LIVE...

The Holonet theme music fades as Pinda Solthar appears on screen. She stands confidently at a sleek broadcast desk, her antiox mask gleaming under the studio lights. Behind her, holographic projections of the dazzling Fountain Palace and the bustling streets of Ta'a Chume'Dan rotate on an illuminated display.

"Good evening! Welcome to 360° Around the Galaxy, where we explore the intersections of power, culture, and the ever-complicated laws that bind—or divide—our galactic society. I'm your host, Pinda Solthar, and tonight, we're coming to you live from Hapes.

Now, unless you've been hiding under a rock, you know what we're here for: the royal wedding of Prince Astor Daaray, brother to Queen Mother Kha'la Daaray, and Lady Shaya Khal, a noblewoman from one of the Consortium's most influential families. This is no ordinary wedding. It's a spectacle of tradition, a political chess move, and, some would argue, an outright PR campaign for the Hapan Cluster's ruling elite. But don't worry—we're here to unpack it all, from the jaw-dropping fashion to the subtle (and not-so-subtle) power plays at work today."

The broadcast transitions to a sweeping view of the Fountain Palace, its crystalline architecture glowing with refracted starlight. The streets below are filled with cheering crowds, vendors, and security forces in gleaming silver armor. Pinda's voice carries an air of intrigue as she continues:

"Look at this—Ta'a Chume'Dan has turned into a living holo-postcard. Thousands of citizens are packed into the streets, waving banners, cheering for the royal procession, and snapping up commemorative trinkets faster than you can say 'dynastic legacy.' But don't let the glittering lights and grand orchestras fool you. Beneath this façade of unity lies a Consortium grappling with a history of division."

The holographic display shifts to archival footage of protests, fiery speeches, and banners demanding "Equality Now" as Pinda leans forward slightly, her tone more direct.

"It's been a few years or since the passage of the Alliance's Equal Rights Act, a historic decree that could very well give Hapan men a greater role in their society—a move some hailed as overdue progress and others decried as an affront to the Consortium's matriarchal foundations. Since then, the Hapan Cluster has been anything but united. We've seen quite a bit of social unrest, from protests, to noble rivalries escalating into open hostility, and the economic divide growing deeper.... So, what does today's wedding represent?

Is it a Band-Aid over a festering wound? A genuine attempt to heal? Or maybe—just maybe—a masterstroke of political theater? We've got the experts to help us break it down tonight."

Pinda gestures as smaller holographic windows pop up beside her, displaying live feeds of commentators waiting to join the discussion—an economic analyst, a cultural historian, and a political strategist.

"Now, one thing we can all agree on: this wedding is sending a message. By uniting two of the most powerful houses in the Cluster, Queen Mother Kha'la Daaray is telling the galaxy that the Hapes Consortium is strong, resilient, and, most importantly, still in charge. But will this grand display be enough to calm the unrest brewing in the streets or mend the fractures within their society? That's the billion-credit question, and we'll be diving into it all night."

The broadcast cuts briefly to footage of children waving flags and towering holograms of the bride and groom smiling serenely above the crowds. Pinda's tone softens slightly, becoming reflective yet still animated:

"Meanwhile, the atmosphere out there is electric. From the vendors selling Hapan delicacies to the whispered gossip about who's wearing what in the ceremonial hall, it's clear that this is a moment of history—and spectacle. But moments like this, my friends, have layers. And here on 360°, we peel them back."

As the orchestral music swells inside the palace, signaling the start of the processional, Pinda smiles and leans back slightly, inviting her audience into the discussion.

"So, stay with us as we break it all down. From the dazzling dresses to the deep divides, we'll explore what this wedding means for Hapes, the galaxy, and yes, maybe even you. This is 360° Around the Galaxy, where we don't just report the news—we make you think about it. The story continues right after this."

The broadcast transitions to a montage of the royal procession, the glittering ceremonial hall, and the excited crowds as the program heads into a brief break.

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Attire: XXX | Tags: Diogo Talon Amani Serys
​

Amani seemed surprised that Eloise would be invited. Eloise felt a tiny urge to fume over the implications of her doubt—but she squashed her ego with a quiet reminder that Amani didn't know her all that well. Eloise hadn't let her know her, despite their partnership as master and apprentice. There was just too much shit standing between them, even before they met.

"Well, I'm more of a plus one, I guess," she admitted truthfully. "Diogo's the hero who got the invitation, really."

"This is news to me."

It's news to him too, Eloise thought as she glimpsed Diogo's startled expression out of the corner of her eye. "Yeah, we just got together recently." One dangling gold earring wiggled as she scratched behind her earlobe with a noticeably un-manicured finger. "Don't really have a whole lot of experience with the whole dating thing, so... Maybe this isn't the best way to announce it." Not that the royals would care.

It took her a moment to realize that while she had introduced Diogo to Amani, she had neglected to introduce Amani to Diogo. "Dio, this is Master Amani—" Aaaand she was already introducing herself to him. "She's my master."

And the Chief Healer of the New Jedi Order. And the Queen of Alderaan. And the First Lady of the Alliance. But none of that really mattered at the moment; Amani hadn't bothered with all those titles, and Eloise didn't want her poor boyfriend to suffer a heart attack upon realizing he was talking to arguably the most famous woman in the known universe.

 

[Astor Daaray]

THE FOUNTAIN PALACE
TA'A CHUME DAN ☛ HAPES

By comparison, the preparation of the only son of Daaray for perhaps the most momentous occasion of life was an easier affair, and his attendants had been long-dismissed, leaving him alone to his thoughts and reflections in the dwindling minutes of his male life as-yet not wholly bound to another in the impending rites. His dismissal had carried the edge of irritation; he had been picked into perfection to within an inch of his sanity, as if his attendants’ years of having their tendencies curbed by the sharper and icier of his edges had suddenly evaporated overnight.

Astor had been left standing before a full-length mirror, reflecting back at him a sight both familiar and not: while white had been a regular feature of his daily vetements that intentionally played to the perceptions of him, to be cinched into this tunic - made distinctly for this day and his form alone, a piece that bore golden-threaded stitching that cascaded down, depicting symbols of his house, both noble and royal, and the accoutrements of symbolic plantlife stitched betwixt and around them - made it all feel so final, nonetheless. The fire of his strawberry mane, coiffed to fall delicately around the strong lines of his face, was simple enough to leave the focus to his gold-flecked and sapphire eyes.

Fingers ran over gilded buttons, clean palms smoothed over fine white fabric as resignation soothed over unfamiliar anxiety. He knew he would only wear this once, for it was tradition that this embroidered piece would be burned after all was said and done. Despite all that roiled within him, Astor maintained the perfect and placid mask of his made-up face. If only his reflection could talk and furnish him with answers that yet eluded his mind, a true solution to the simmering discord, but what was to come felt as if it was the only thing he could do.

He could not stand by as his people were forced to question, if not reckon with the deeply embedded ways of their culture, by people who - he was sure - were as well-meaning as they were misguided. People who sought to change what they did not understand, and in doing so, led him to where he was today, the culmination of choosing the stability of the realm and strength of his sister’s crown over his own desires.

This was a day that he had once thought might never come, for his own happiness had been paramount for so long. Even his dear sibling, the Ereneda Kha'la Daaray , could not bring herself to deny him this, but his hand was forced. If not for his choices, he would have found himself in this ceremony well before now. If not for that year with the one that got away, and how she had altered him.

In his heart of hearts, he did not love the woman to whom he was to be wed, and for that he was as normal as any Hapan man, but unlike them, this was not a decision made for him, nor was it taken lightly. Never mind that there was no woman in the whole of the Consortium - that he knew of - who would willingly give him what that Nabooian woman had. He would have to give up everything for that, and that was unacceptable.

But the woman he chose in the end was amenable to certain agreements, and though he had no doubt that she would try to bend him to her will… Shaya Khal would learn just what she was getting herself into. Oh, he would perform his duty in and for the public as they all did, and in private in the utmost essential of ways for her name to remain a going concern, that was without question.

But he would never be her whipping boy.

All lines of thought that caused his fingers to curl, until an old, familiar wave of comfort and peace washed over him, and eroded away his tension, like the ocean eroded rock over a much longer scale - Briana Sal-Soren was here, a woman of her word. It was an intangible contact that he’d always wished to reciprocate in the same way, over the course of their relationship, but he could only give mundane offerings in kind. Could only give all that he knew in eliciting every response from the temple of her body, and receive in return a euphoria that bordered on spiritual ecstasy, almost a dream-state unreplicable by anyone before her or after.

He had no such gifts.

Astor’s fingers unfurled, and he breathed out, refocusing on himself in the mirror. Committing to memory this version of himself that he would never see again, when there was a knock at the door.

“Enter.”

The door creaked open as he turned, and a blonde head poked through the opening - a face that was a relief to see.

“Careina,” he spread his hands and arms only so far, and the faintest of smiles pulled up the corners of his mouth, “your thoughts in these final moments, for a man that will soon no longer exist?”

His tone implied mild jest. The loss of a facet of his identity. That he was to take a name that would become his own. That he might well see much less of Careina Djo from now on, his one true friend, made her opinion invaluable. He turned in a slow circle so she could see everything, front and back, while her muted silver-blue eyes swept over him, sharp - assessing. He could remember when he was a much younger man and being looked over so sharply would make him feel naked, and nervous.

"You'll be the most fashionable sacrifice in the history of the Consortium."

His smile eked up in size, on one end. Her rouge lips faintly curled up at the edges, but that faint smile vanished almost as swiftly as it'd come. In front of anyone else, Careina would have masked the disdain for the woman he was marrying with more care, but their relationship, forged in the time he’d spent among the ranks of the Chume’doro, had stripped away such hesitancy long ago. In private moments, she always unsheathed her tongue, and he would have it no other way. She slipped in, nudged the door shut, and took a few measured steps further into the room, her boots clicking as she moved forward.

"I brought you a gift, open it."

She held out a neatly wrapped box for him to take, which he did gracefully, and did as ordered, carefully peeling away the paper that obscured the small box, and turning away briefly to set the wrapping aside on a small table to the left of the mirror. Turning back to her as he gingerly pulled the box open. His mask could almost fall away at the sight of what was in it; his paces ceased.

Within was a pair of golden cufflinks nestled carefully inside, each one etched with the symbol of the Chume'doro. He ran a thumb over the symbol of the organisation that had tied them together, a membership that had marked him as particularly uncommon for a man, long before his cousin’s death had placed him and his sister above everyone else. A reminder of duty. More than. Words were slow in coming.

"Wear them." She told him, in that tone that brooked no argument. "A reminder of who you really are. Not who they'll try to make you."

Blues looked up at her through lashes, jewels with a sheen that was the only indication of how this gift made him feel, emotion restrained under control he’d mastered alongside her. They would be destroyed along with the tunic, he wanted to say… but he would never forget this gesture and its meaning. They renewed him.

They reminded him of where his loyalties would always lie.

“Thank you, Careina.”

Words that seemed insufficient, but he couldn’t very well embrace her. That had never been their way, even before he was a Prince. His head lifted, and he went about switching out one set of cufflinks for the other, turning to the aforementioned table to do so.

“It must be time, then,” he realised quietly. Then, the switch completed, Astor turned back to Careina, his mask still fully in place. Devoid of what was there, only moments before. “I have a duty to perform."

Firm words, icy words.

"Let’s not leave the Lady Shaya waiting any longer.”

 

[Kalantha]

Tying a Golden Knot

Neke’s acknowledgement of the strange nature of things was enough to stifle the queen’s unease, at least for now. Maybe it was just a bad feeling after all. Not all bad feelings were omens, she decided. It was just the increased perception afforded them by not being the center of everyone’s attention that made her feel on edge, Kalantha agreed with a small nod. She inhaled through her nose and let the floral air rest in her lungs for a few moments before breathing it out.

The way the flowers blended together to form their own natural perfume was intoxicating. It reminded her of the gardens at Theed Palace, of the afternoons she’d spent chatting with her handmaidens or venting to her friend Aiden Porte about anything under the sun.

“I do regret not making a more conscious effort to reach the Consortium before now,” she admitted softly. There were murmurs spreading throughout the crowd nearby as the wedding inched ever closer to its start, giving Kalantha what she felt was adequate cover to speak.

“Many in the court are of Hapan descent, or are fully Hapan themselves - things have just been so difficult, so… insular. This is a good change, and hopefully a new precedent for the Republic.” She was referring to the fact that her coronation rode on the tail of the First Cataclysm and the Confederacy’s dereliction of duty on Naboo. Kalantha inherited a broken crown, a soot-stained throne, and a wounded planet. Her entire reign had been devoted to restoring Theed and the rest of Naboo first to operational status, then to glory.

Now, she represents not only the Kingdom of Naboo, but the entire Royal Naboo Republic as an emissary to see distant cousins and friends. For this reason, Kalantha loosened the grip she held around her feelings of unease and faced forward to view the ceremony.

Tags: Shineke Dravenné | OPEN(ish)​

 

[Ceri Fraissi]

SPARKY
FOUNTAIN PALACE | HAPES
TAG: Caelan Valoren | Open

ROYALS​

"I'm sure they will," he answered the girl as he turned to look at her. "The ceremony is usually the most formal part. Things tend to loosen up at the reception."

"Huh." she said brilliantly, yet sounding weirdly impressed. "Well I hope so. Sitting still is sooooo boring. Dancing and good music is the way to go." Her mother, though lovingly, had always told her to calm her hyperactive self down. Not that Ceri listened much. Even one of the Masters in her early training had started to stack books on her head because of something like "bouncing everywhere." She never noticed and, needless to say, the Master had to glue quite a few books back together again.

"Caelan Valoren, Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Devit on Lazerian IV and apprentice to Jedi Knight Dreidi Xeraic."

Oooo fancy! And also a new friend! She grabbed his hand and shook it in both hers along with a wide smile.
"Ceri Fraissi. Nice to meet ya. I don't have any fancy titles, but I'm from Naboo though. And I'm yet to meet my Master, though I heard he is Jedi Knight Rik Perris ." she introduced herself. "Say, I won't get in trouble if I don't call you Your Highness, right?" she added, letting go of his hand and sitting back with a slight bounce in her seat. Someone with more self-awareness might realise that they didn't have any boundaries, but to Ceri, the words "too personal" didn't exist.

"If I see you in the street, I kinda just want to call you over to hang out and not all your fanciness along with it. That cool?"