Faction Capital Letters [DCN + Friends]

[Ivalyn Yvarro]

Avalonia, Dosuun
Natasi Fortan Memorial Gardens
Savaday, 02.21.907 | Three O'Clock

​

The cold breath of the late winter still lingered in the Avalonian air, as the sun, unyielding and golden, poured across the marble paths of the Natasi Fortan Memorial Gardens as though spring had dared to arrive early for the occassion. Beneath the sweeping arms of the evergreen Galidraani trees, the soft waking petals of the flowers just in bloom lined the gardens paths. The dignified shadow of the Grand Moff herself, the bronzium likeness watching over the gardens as they had been transformed. White and navy pennants fluttered softly in the breeze, catching the light like silk sails. Gold-trimmed chairs lined the flagstone aisles, their placement measured to the centimeter, just as the Commonwealth would demand, just as she would have wanted.

Nothing less than perfection, of course.

The music had yet to play but the guests had begun to arrive. The quiet shuffle of attendees taking their places and the distant swell of Avalonia's skyline, stately and unmoved remained in the picturesque view of the event. Overhead, the skies held clear a sign to some that perhaps she was watching. Although to which she was inferred depended on beliefs, it could have been the Empress, it could have been the late Grand Moff, or another Goddess.

Today, however it mattered not which spirit presided over the day. As those who had arrived had come to bear witness, gathering here to watch history made real. Two of the Commonwealth's most prominent daughters, Grand VIzier Ivalyn Yvarro and Merryn Sellek, the Chief Operations Officer of Aurora Industries, were to be wed. A union of stateswoman and industrliaist, what began as something small in the wake of a chance meeting hand unfolded into something beautiful and strong in the wake of tragedy and loss. They had become a beacon of something rarer than the order they cherished: hope.

Guests ranged from heads of state, business leaders, soldiers, secretaries, and select friends from the across the Force's spectrum, Sith, Jedi and those who ascribed to something else entirely. All were starting to take their seats, some in reverence and others with impatience - hoping for the reception to arrive with haste. Still others had come to bear witness, out of respect, or simply because to refuse the invitation of the Grand Vizier was unwise.

At the end of the aisles, the altar stood framed by a trellis of frost-kissed blooms brought in from Needan and gold-threaded silk from Seoul. Navy petals had been scattered along the path like the stars across velvet. Somewhere beyond the gardens, the hour struck three. Cameras were ready, musicians were ready, and so the ceremony would begin.

----​

Ivalyn stood still, rooted in place as the soft rustle of silk marked the movements of her aunt. Ryssa's hands, steady and sure, smoothed out the folds of her gown with the care of someone who had done this before, for others, for herself, and yet today felt different. Beside her, Josephine Halscott, her cousin, ever composed, reached up to gently touch up Ivalyn's makeup, dabbing beneath one eye, tucking a stray strand of hair into place. The mirror in front of them reflected all three women, the lines of legacy, of loss, of quiet strength.

The blonde exhaled. The breath trembled on its way out, catching at the edges of her ribs, her eyes already glassy. She looked herself over, then met their eyes in the mirror, Josephine's soft, reassuring smile, Ryssa's somber grace.

"I think your mother and sister would have been quite proud of you, Ivalyn," Josephine said, voice warm, gentle.

Ivalyn swallowed, blinking fast. "Thanks, Josie," she murmured, her voice cracking. "It still hurts. The heart. To know they're not here."

There was a silence then, soft and reverent. Ryssa exchanged a glance with Josephine, who gave a small curtsy before stepping back to give them a moment.

Ryssa moved in front of her niece, her hands finding Ivalyn's. "Trust me when I say," she began, her voice low but unwavering, "that I know how unfair it is. That they both left us… and left you… far too soon. That they won't be standing in this garden, watching you marry the woman you love."

Her own tears shimmered now, unshed but present. She made no effort to blink them away. "But that doesn't make this day any less remarkable. It doesn't make your triumphs, your leadership, your love, any less worthy. Ariel saw all of this in you, long before the rest of the galaxy did."

Ivalyn's breath hitched again.

"When your mother stepped away from power, it wasn't weakness. It was love. She gave up the stars to raise you, because she knew all too well what life without a parent was like." Ryssa's voice softened even more. "So no, you shan't be alone today."

She reached out, pulled Ivalyn gently into her arms.

"I will walk with you."

Ivalyn leaned into her aunt, the tears finally falling freely now, not of sorrow alone, but of gratitude, of memory, of love enduring. The weight of the moment settled on her chest, heavy but not crushing.

After a few long breaths shared in silence, Ryssa pulled back just enough to whisper, "Now. Let's get Josie back in here and get you proper for that beautiful bride of yours."

----

[First stage is Unchained Melody, the wedding. Second stage is Time After Time, the reception]

Domar | Kurayami Bloodborn | Bella | Judah Dashiell | Srina Talon | Aselia Verd | Adelle Bastiel | Merryn Sellek | Taeli Raaf | Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Rowan Cordé | Srina Talon | Gerwald Lechner [Invite Only, DM on Discord!]
​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Sibylla Abrantes | Adelle Bastiel

Aurelian crossed the threshold into the gardens with the easy confidence of someone who refused to be impressed, even as his eyes quietly took everything in.

Marble paths, disciplined rows of chairs, banners aligned with near-military precision. Commonwealth taste. Severe, elegant, obsessed with order. He could respect it. He had never imagined standing on this side of the Blackwall, not truly. Naboo had always felt comfortably distant from the Commonwealth. A personal invitation and a guided transport had changed that. Kings did not often get invited behind closed doors unless someone wanted them seen.

Or measured.

He glanced upward briefly, instinctive, half-expecting sensors or unseen observers. Old habit. The guest list alone made this a political exercise whether the brides intended it or not. Heads of state, Force sensitives from opposite creeds, industrial magnates who pretended they were not armed in subtler ways. Weddings like this were declarations.

He guided Sibylla along the aisle with a light touch at her elbow, more habit than necessity. She moved like she belonged here, calm, poised, devastatingly elegant without effort. She always did. Aurelian felt a familiar flicker of pride, followed by amusement at himself for feeling it at all. He wondered, not for the first time, how many eyes tracked her instead of the ceremony.

They reached their seats. He settled in, smoothing the front of his tan suit and adjusting the cuff at his wrist. The color was deliberate. Against all this navy, white, and gold, he stood out just enough. Sun-kissed skin, careless charm.

He leaned back, then angled toward Sibylla, voice low, conspiratorial. "I hear Adelle might be here today."

The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "If that's true," he added softly, eyes flicking across the gathering, already cataloging faces, "we know at least one other here."

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aselia Verd | Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes

Adelle had never been to a normal wedding—from what she could remember—much less a wedding this grand. She stood at an unobtrusive distance from the ceremony's designated site, watching guests file in and take their seats. The bulk of security forces kept tight outer perimeters and security checkpoints. Imperial guard and some Order of Wolves ensured guests were unmolested. Comms chatter revealed several would-be paparazzi had already been caught. Efficient and effective. Which begged the question why she and Aselia were here.

Her beskar'gam shone a dull black in the sunlight, supposedly warm for this time of year, the blue accents nearly blending in. In contrast, the red sigil on her left pauldron blazed crimson, drawing the eye away from her clan's sigil on her right shoulder and the Iron Wolves sigil on the cuirass. Phantom had curled into a loaf by her feet, black fur sleek where the high-vis service animal vest ended. Insurance, the contracting parties had said. The Imperial Guard and the Wolves would provide most of the security. The Mandalorians were only insurance. Which, okay, fine. Easy creds. Food and drink had been assured although Adelle assumed it'd be away from the eyes and ears of the dignified guests.

Easy creds but mind-itchingly boring.

Adelle swallowed back the urge to fidget, folding her arms over her chest. She'd never been able to sit still. Granted, she wasn't sure if it had always been the case but during her remedial Jedi training, sitting still for meditation never worked. She usually fell asleep before she entered the trance-like state of clarity most Jedi found. Moving meditation, running through obstacle courses or even just around a track, had been the only way she could.

The one bright spot was catching Aurelian and Sibylla among the invited guests. She wouldn't get a chance to say hi, much less speak to them, but it was nice to see familiar faces. Likely they didn't know she was even here.

She shifted her weight, senses still trained on her surroundings. Restless or not, she was still here to do a job.

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Aurelian Veruna

Sibylla let her steps fall into rhythm with Aurelian's as they moved deeper into the garden, acutely aware of the space they occupied and the many eyes that could, at any moment, drift their way. She did her best to keep her posture relaxed, her expression serene, and every line of her body speaking the language expected of her here.

The dress helped with that.

It was a midnight-blue velvet that traced her frame and embraced her curves with refined elegance, the high collar softened by embroidery winding across the bodice and skirt. Copper and gold florals bloomed in subtle patterns, catching the light only when she moved. Her hair was carefully coiled up in a soft updo, the chestnut waves pinned with a delicate silver netting and jeweled pins, matching the tiered earrings she wore that gently swayed and shifted with every one of her movements.

"Adelle will be here?" She was pleasantly surprised when he mentioned Adelle Bastiel . A soft lift of her brows, a brief warmth in her smile that was not practiced. "Well, that will be interesting. I wonder if she is here as an invitee or for security?" both could be true as well.

However... how did he know Adelle would be here?

The impish thought sparked before she could stop it and Sibylla slowed just enough to turn toward him. Afternoon light spilled through the garden, catching Aurelian in a wash of gold and amber that felt almost unfair in how perfectly it framed him, as if the sun itself had decided to take sides.

Infuriatingly handsome. And he knew it.

From the cut of his suit that fit his athletic frame perfectly to the way he radiated confidence by his posture alone. Sibylla felt the familiar, private appreciation stir, tempered only by the awareness of where they were, even as her gaze lingered a heartbeat longer than propriety allowed.

Some things, she knew, were best enjoyed quietly.

"So..." she teased in as a mischievous, amused spark ignited in her hazel eyes as they settled upon his own, "you've been in communication with Adelle then?"

Dark delicate brows lifted in a playful knowing arc.

"Should I be jealous, or is this the careful construction of a beautiful new friendship to add to your carefully curated circle?"

There was no jealousy in her eyes or test beneath the question. She trusted Aurelian. Entirely. Whatever his past amusements, whatever performances he once used to unsettle others, she knew the difference now between when he looked at her compared to others.

It lived in the heat of his eyes when he looked at her in private, and in the fleeting glances they shared in public. In the way his touch shifted with her, the way his attention settled unmistakably, wholly, upon her.

Whether others noticed was another matter. Perhaps years of composure had made them adept at concealment. Perhaps not.

It did not matter.

This was their time. Their pace. Their own timeline.

And Sibylla was perfectly content to let it remain so.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Tags: Open​

Aiden Porte arrived without fanfare, which suited him fine.

The Natasi Fortan Memorial Gardens were immaculate in that way only a civilization that worshipped order could manage, not simply clean, but curated. Every chair aligned, every pennant hanging at the correct angle to catch the wind, every flower placed with intent rather than whim. It was beautiful, undeniably, and there was something about it that made the Force feel…quieter. Not absent, not muted, but held in a disciplined hand. He had no cause to come. No Republic mandate or official invitation that required his presence as a Jedi, especially not now that he had stepped away from the Council's orbit.

And yet he had come anyway.

Intrigue was not the same as temptation, he reminded himself, but he had learned long ago that the difference between the two could blur when you stopped paying attention. The Imperial Commonwealth's name had reached Republic, and his ears. Seeing its ceremony in person, seeing how it moved and presented itself, told a different kind of story than any report ever could.

He wore a simple tuxedo, black and clean-lined, no decorations, no medals, no insignia. Elegant without being loud. It was the closest thing he had to armor in this setting, anonymity. Aiden took his seat and settled with the ease of someone who had spent plenty of time at events like this. He let his posture soften just enough to appear at home, while his attention stayed sharp, wide, and patient. However in the back of his mind, there was something about this place that caused his eyebrows to lift and a small smirk show across his face.

His eyes moved across the guests.

He took note of His Majesty, Aurelian Veruna. Beside him the Voice of Naboo, Sibylla Abrantes. Aiden found it mildly comforting to see them here, if only because it meant the Republic was not asleep at the wheel.

He watched the aisle, the altar, the statue casting its dignified shadow over the gathering. He listened to the music building, to the hush settling over the crowd like snowfall. And beneath it all, he felt the subtle texture of the Force brushing the edges of the event: pockets of calm, sharp lines of discipline. And even then, he thought back to his much younger years, the bookworm, always reading wondering about places like this. He had every cause to stay a while and learn more about it.

An intriguing mixture, to which Aiden's curiosity sharpened. There was times that he wondered what his father would do during these moments, would Kahne have been here. Even know, looking back there was so much he wanted to ask him, and if he could have those moments back he would. Aiden took a deep breath as he smiled faintly nodding his head to a pair of individuals that has passed him, showing the same courtesy in return.

Aiden leaned back slightly, hands folded loosely, expression calm. To any casual observer, he was just another well-dressed guest in a crowd of well dressed guests.

In truth, he was listening.

Waiting for the first conversation that mattered, and it would seem in a time and place like this. Every conversation was going to matter.

 

[Merryn Sellek]

Avalonia, Dosuun
Natasi Fortan Memorial Gardens
Savaday, 02.21.907 | Three O'Clock
Ivalyn Yvarro Aurelian Veruna Sibylla Abrantes Aiden Porte Adelle Bastiel
​

The weather could not have been more perfect. A slight chill in the air, as the Avalonian winter was chased away by the sun high above. The memorial gardens were starting to come into bloom, adding just the faintest hint of their scent to the air and heightening the atmosphere of the occasion. The banners of the Commonwealth fluttered in the light breeze, casting small shadows over the attendees as they slowly filled into the golden seats leading to the altar. No expense had been spared. Everything was precisely as they had planned it for months now, precise down to the tiniest detail...

And yet, from a balcony overlooking the venue, where she had been sequestered away until that fateful walk down the aisle, there was still nervousness. That something wasn't right, that something could go wrong. And when she got nervous, Merryn looked for a distraction. So it just happened that Merryn Sellek, soon to be wed to the Grand Vizier of the Commonwealth, in a shimmersilk wedding dress of ivory and gold with just the faintest hint of amber, had an earpiece in and was endlessly pacing as she spoke.

"No, no, the authorization was for thirty million," she said, pausing as one of the financial officers for Aurora Industries responded. "I don't think I need to remind you that establishing a presence on Chardaan is essential for any expansion into Republic space... No, no, you're not listening..."

The door to her waiting room opened, and she only paid it half her attention as Lady Raaf walked in, one of her bridesmaids trailing along behind her. Nerralyn had been absolutely delighted at the chance to stand next to, admittedly, her best friend, and it felt... both odd and right for Lady Raaf to be the one to accompany her down the aisle. Her parents had died when the Brotherhood of the Maw attacked Coruscant, and she had been left adrift in the aftermath, one of many war orphans who had gone into the system. Lady Raaf had plucked her out of obscurity, ensured she was taken care of, and provided her with a powerful sponsor for her schooling and training... she owed her everything.

And now she was joining her extended family.

"We will discuss this more when I return from my honeymoon, and I expect to see an adequate response to our inquiries," she said, hanging up the call and tossing the earpiece away onto a nearby sofa. Lady Raaf and Nerralyn both offered her mirrored eyebrow raises, and she shook her head. "My apologies, Lady Raaf, but the Chardaan acquisition is taking longer than expected and..."

"And can wait," Lady Raaf replied. "Today is not supposed to be a workday. It's supposed to be a celebration."

She opened her mouth to answer, but Nerralyn cut her off by lifting both her datapad and the earpiece away and out of reach, saying in the process, "Confiscated until further notice. You can have them back when the reception is over, and not a moment before."

She sighed as both Raaf women began fussing over her dress and the final touches to her veil and train, leaving her once again with her nervousness about the day to come.

 

[Iskendyr Yvarro]

Taeli Raaf | Kurayami Bloodborn | Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Adelle Bastiel | Aiden Porte
[Iskey, Kai Kaivaan Raaf and Lucette Raaf are open for interactions]​

The dressing room smelled faintly of polished durasteel, fresh florals drifting in from the Natasi Fortan Memorial Gardens beyond the open balcony doors. Sunlight filtered through tall windows, catching on white stone and glass, casting warm gold across uniforms laid out with near-religious precision.

Iskendyr adjusted his uniform one final time in the mirror, fingers smoothing the line of his collar. Behind him, Kai's hand settled—far too casually, on his shoulder.

"By the Balance, Kai," Iskendyr murmured through clenched teeth. "If a single epaulet or ribbon is out of place, I will end you. You seem particularly committed to annoying me today, of all days."

Kai withdrew his hand with exaggerated delicacy, sweeping it back through hair black as a starless void. He scoffed softly, violet eyes gleaming with amusement. "It is because you are so easily perturbed," he drawled. His gaze drifted toward the gardens outside. "All this ceremony for one marriage. Truly excessive."

Iskendyr, finally satisfied with his reflection, turned toward him. "It is quite literally the Grand Vizier," he replied patiently. "The Pasha. The Grand Moff, if you insist on archaic terminology." A beat. "And if you didn't spend all your time brooding under a rock about being heir to a Sith house, you might notice that people do, in fact, fall in love."

Kai rolled his eyes and flicked an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve. "Love. What a disgusting notion. Please, everyone knows I was forced to attend. Grandmother insists that I 'socialize.'"

Iskendyr narrowed his eyes, unimpressed.

"You do," he said flatly.

A knock echoed against the door.

"Are you boys ready?" Lucy's voice sailed through, bright and unapologetically impatient. "You're taking longer than my sisters, and I have three of them."

Kai laughed as he moved toward the door. "It's Iskendyr, dearest Lucette. He needed to ensure not a single hair was out of place. You understand."

"As if you didn't double-check your eyeliner, Kai," Lucy shot back without missing a beat.

Iskendyr laughed, clapping a hand on Kai's shoulder as he leaned in conspiratorially. "She's got you there, Kaivaan. Any longer and I'd assume you've been doing more than studying spells in that little hovel of yours."

Kai jerked his shoulder away, shooting him a look as his hand reached for the door. "If you are both quite finished."

Lucy opened it herself.

She stood framed by light, elegant and composed, her attire a perfect balance of restraint and quiet opulence. Iskendyr's expression softened into a genuine smile.

"Look at you," he said warmly. "Gorgeous. Let me guess, some cheeky designer out of Avalonia?"

"Wrong," Lucy corrected smoothly, lifting her chin just a fraction. "A rather tasteful and exquisite designer out of Sor Yusan on Varada V, thank you very much."

Iskendyr chuckled. "I stand corrected. Aunt Ivalyn would approve."

As the three descended the lift and exited onto the grounds.

"What are the odds for trouble, hm?" Kai leaned in toward Lucette, voice low and mischievous, eyes flicking briefly toward the open balcony and the distant hum of activity in the gardens below.

"None," Lucy replied immediately, without even looking at him. "Absolutely none. Do you have any idea how much security Ivalyn procured for this?"

Iskendyr didn't miss a beat. "And neither of you are to pull any bloody Force shenanigans," he said, cutting in sharply as he turned from the mirror at last. "Or I will personally-"

"-what?" Kai interrupted sweetly. "Scold us? Glare disapprovingly? Invoke the ghost of Great-Grandmother Fiolette and her terrifying sense of decorum?"

Iskendyr stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough to make it dangerous.

"I will personally escort you both out by the scruffs of your collars, deposit you into a waiting transport, and ensure you are remembered forever as the cousins who disrupted the Grand Vizier's wedding."

Lucy snorted. "Honestly, Kai, don't tempt him. He's been in states lately."

Kai tilted his head, studying Iskendyr with a look that was more perceptive than playful. "You're wound tighter than a hyperdrive coil, cousin."

Iskendyr exhaled through his nose. "It's my aunt's wedding. To the love of her life. In front of half the Commonwealth and every allied observer who matters. Forgive me for wanting exactly zero chaos."

Lucy's expression softened slightly. She stepped closer and adjusted the fall of Iskendyr's sash with a practiced hand. "She'll be happy," she said gently. "That's what matters."

For a moment, Iskendyr said nothing. Then he nodded once.

"Yes," he agreed quietly. "It is."

Kai cleared his throat, breaking the moment.

"Well. If catastrophe is off the table, shall we proceed before the guests begin placing bets on whether we've eloped or assassinated someone?"

Iskendyr shot him a look. "Kai."

"I'm joking," he said, hands up. "Mostly."

Lucy laughed, looping an arm through Iskendyr's. "Come on. Let's get you to your seat before you actually do threaten bodily harm."

As they approached the wedding venue, where the guests were arriving and taking their seats.

Kai paused mid-step, his body going rigid.

"Lucette," he said slowly, dread creeping into his voice, "who is that?"

Lucy followed his line of sight and smiled, soft, fond, utterly unapologetic. "Viers," she said simply. A moment lingered, and then she realized why Kai's faced had contorted the way it just had. "Come on, Kai. It was one time."

Viers Connory

Lucy's significant other. Girlfriend, really, though the term barely covered it. They'd been together since they were young teens, long before politics, legacies, and ceremonial seating charts complicated everything.

Kai, unfortunately, remembered Viers very well.

His face drained of color. A faint sheen of sweat appeared at his temple. "One time?" he hissed. "It was in front of the Academy. That bloody banquet on Korriban, the food was-"

"Mmm," Iskendyr cut in smoothly, not missing a beat, "a touch too spicy for you, Kai?" His smile was all teeth and cruelty. "A tragic state for a lad, let alone a young acolyte of a Sith house."

Kai shot him a glare but didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he exhaled sharply, then froze.

Starfighter Corps, Lt. Colonel Iaacen Raaf passed by at that exact moment, crisp in his formal uniform, the quiet authority of a career officer in every step. Órla walked at his side, elegant and composed, her presence alone enough to still a room. They didn't stop, but they noticed.

Iskendyr and Lucy exchanged a look.

"So much for escapades and shenaniganry, Kai," Iskendyr murmured under his breath, leaning in just enough to be unbearable. "Shall we escort you to your mummy and daddy?"

Kai narrowed his eyes, jaw tightening.

"I despise you."

Lucy laughed, already stepping away. "Oh, you'll be fine," she said breezily. "I'm leaving Kai in your hands, Iskendyr. I'm going with Viers."

She didn't wait for a response, just smiled once over her shoulder and disappeared into the crowd, utterly unbothered.

Iskendyr watched her go, then looked back at Kai with a satisfied tilt of his head. "Well," he said pleasantly, offering his arm, "come along then. Let's reunite you with your parents before you faint or declare a blood feud."

Kai stared at him for a long moment.

"…I hate weddings."

"And yet," Iskendyr replied, already steering him forward, "they do have a way of bringing families together."

 

[Judah Dashiell]

​

Arriving in the gardens, Judah paused slightly. Oceanic eyes were looking for any familiar faces but he didn't spot any. Not surprising. For all the opportunities the Commonwealth provided he was always surprised his fellow corporate titans avoided the area. There was the pesky Black Wall to deal with but one could prove they were providing essential business services travel was much easier. Didn't mean his vessels still didn't get stopped but he had been working on resourcing most materials from the Commonwealth itself. Keep the supply chain short, especially given the distance to his base of normal operations.

Remembering he was blocking the aisleway, Judah moved to sit in the back on the bride's side. Miss Yvarro had been the one he had dealt with the most often, so it only seemed fitting in his eyes. Unbuttoning his black suit jacket as he sat down, he gave one final look at the fellow well wishers before looking around the gardens. Well landscaped and maintained with flowers in full bloom. Quite stunning and a fitting place to begin a life together.

Relaxing in the warm sunshine, his gaze flicked to the trees. Birding was a relatively new hobby for him, roughly a year in on the recommendation of a therapist. Considering he lost everyone he considered a friend, it was an easy way to occupy his time and keep his mind off other things. In this case smoking, it would be frowned upon if he pulled out a cigarra right now. Maybe later in the evening.

Ears could have sworn he picked up a high pitched call. Hand reached into his breast pocket and he pulled out a slender pair of binoculars, subtly searching the lower branches and spotting a golden pheasant. Was this the type native to Naboo? Brows furrowed as he thought for a moment, studying the creature.

Before he became the 'weird guy' at the ceremony, binoculars were put away back in his breast pocket and datapad pulled out, pulling up images of golden pheasants to see if he could figure out this little mystery.

TAGS : OPEN

 

[Viers Connory]

//: Lucette Raaf //:

It never got easy.

The parties, the galas, the pristine and almost perfect arrangements on table tops — they were all still foreign concepts to the Monk. Viers had found herself thrown into a world in which she didn't fit in. She was a triangle in a world of circles, but she was welcomed as far as she knew.

Fingers played along the trimmed cuffs at her wrists of the collared shirt. She was confused about why the jacket sleeves showed her wrists when she moved, but then hid them when she put her hands down. It was an interesting structure, and while it wasn't the first time she wore a tailored suit, she was still as curious as ever.

People moved around Viers, but faces and names didn't match, and she didn't really bother to remember them. She didn't tell Lucy, though, as the girl often explained who was who in the Commonwealth. A little smile curled at her lips, thinking fondly of the Princess.

Speaking of the girl, she had asked Viers to wait for her. A simple request, but Viers did wonder where she was running off to. Feeling the absence at her side felt odd, too. It wasn't as if they were glued to the hip, but knowing what it felt like to be separated for years, Viers didn't want to feel that again.

But that was in the past, and more often, Viers was found at Lucy's side when the girl wasn't taking classes or doing other things pertaining to her alchemy. Viers didn't understand any of it, but she tried her best. The little creatures that she made were often cute and ferocious, a blend that Viers admired.

People continued to pass by her, still people she didn't know but recognized for the most part. She was also trying her best to behave, to remain quiet and not make a mess of things. Today was an important day, and deep down, she didn't want to embarrass Lucy. Too often, her rambunctious nature got her into trouble and, in turn, dragged Lucy along with her.

Viers' brow furrowed as she promised herself she was going to be good today, not try to grab at whatever caught her attention, and focus.

As she tried to remember the faces of those who passed by her and nodded, Lucy made her presence known. Turning, Viers smiled and offered her arm to her favorite person.

"I missed you," Viers smiled. She understood it as silly to miss someone in such a short span of time, but she enjoyed being honest.

"Where did you disappear to?"

 

[Lucette Raaf]

Viers Connory | Judah Dashiell | Adelle Bastiel | Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna | Aiden Porte | Kurayami Bloodborn | Domar | Taeli Raaf​

Lucy slipped her fingers into Viers', threading them together with practiced ease. The stone paths of the Memorial Gardens were cool beneath their feet, pale Dosuuni marble veined with silver moss, the air fragrant with blooming flowers cultivated to open only for ceremonies such as this. Wind stirred the tall cypress-like trees that ringed the garden, their leaves whispering softly above the low murmur of arriving guests.

She leaned her head lightly against Viers' shoulder as they walked. "I had to make sure my cousins were finished making themselves beautiful in the mirror," Lucy said, the faintest smile touching her lips. She glanced up at Viers briefly, eyes warm. "You remember Kai? He's particular about his eyeliner. And Iskendyr," a quiet huff of amusement, "always takes far too long with his uniform."

The acolyte couldn't imagine spending this day beside anyone else. Viers didn't always grasp the finer points of family politics or ceremonial nuance, but she was present, steady, real. That had always been more than enough for Lucy.

Her gaze drifted ahead as the seating opened into view. "There, Aunt Lucinyia." Lucy inclined her chin toward the front row. "Beside her is cousin Matthias. Aunt Luci decided against supplements. She wanted to age naturally." A pause, thoughtful. "She must be nearly eighty now. Perhaps more. I've lost track."

They reached their row, the stone bench warmed by the afternoon sun. Lucy gestured subtly as they settled. "And there, Uncle Iaacen, Auntie Órla. Kai's parents. His younger siblings are beside them, Vikar and Aleya. They should be finishing secondary by now."

Her eyes shifted again, quieter this time. "In front of us, my mothers, Aerys. And Saeuun." The words were neutral, carefully placed. "And my sisters. Thea, Serrah…" She frowned faintly, scanning. "No Frankie." A soft sigh followed. "Probably off on assignment."

A ripple of movement drew her attention to the side path. "Oh, there's Aunt Ryssa. She's just arriving now." The brunette woman approached Lucinyia, elegant and unhurried. "Ryssa chose supplements, as you can see. She looks remarkable." A brief, knowing pause. "She's in her late seventies. Maybe older. I never can tell with her." Lucy's gaze dipped to the man beside Ryssa. "And that's her son, Raqo. Merchant Marine. Doesn't he look dashing in his uniform?"

Then she turned fully to Viers, her expression softening into something unmistakably sincere. "But none of them," Lucy said quietly, "can truly compare to you."

The serenity in her eyes was unfeigned, unguarded. She reached into the pocket of her dress and produced a small, gleaming coin. "There's a wishing well not far from here," she added. "The folkspin says that if you take a two-crown piece, close your eyes, and make a wish before tossing it into the fountain," she rolled the coin once across her knuckles, "it will come true."

Her attention shifted as the garden stirred again, the low hum of anticipation rising. "Oh, there's cousin Josie." Lucy straightened slightly. "Her daughter Hela is just behind her, by the stars…" Her voice caught, just briefly. "There's Frankie. And here I thought she'd gone off-world." A faint smile followed. "She's part of the bridal party. Ethanael is with her, and Drianos, that's Ivalyn's younger brother. And Gavyn, Josie's son." A moment lingered on, "oh there I believe that's auntie Nerra in the bridal party as well? She's easy to spot, looks just like grandmother Taeli."

The wedding party gathered in a wash of color: blues and whites echoing Dosuun's sky and stone, fabrics catching the light as if dusted with starlight. Lucy pressed a hand lightly to her chest.

"Oh, Viers," she murmured, reverent rather than loud. "They're all so beautiful."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian scanned the gardens again, slower this time, letting his gaze drift past the polished guests and immaculate rows. Too clean. Too many eyes. Security was everywhere, layered thick enough to choke on. Commonwealth paranoia wore nice tailoring.

"She's here as security," he murmured to Sibylla. "I think."

His attention slid toward the rear of the garden where figures stood apart from the finery. Armor instead of silk. Broad shoulders, rigid posture. Mandalorians. A few of them. He squinted, mildly irritated. Helmets, plating, identical silhouettes. Useless.

"I can't tell which one's her," he admitted, lips pressing thin. "They all look the same to me."

He leaned forward briefly, then gave a small, defeated shrug and settled back. So much for that mystery. If Adelle Bastiel was working, she would stay invisible. Professional to a fault. He respected that, even if it ruined his curiosity.

Sibylla's question lingered between them. He turned to her, one brow lifting, expression open and unbothered. "I message her sometimes," he said easily. "From time to time. That's it."

Internally, he scoffed at the idea of it being friendship. He had lived his life surrounded by people, allies, enemies, admirers. He was tired of collecting them.

"They're acquaintances," he added, quieter now. "I've told you already... I have plenty of friends. I don't need more."

He bumped her shoulder with his own, a familiar, grounding gesture, then let his hand settle on her leg. The contact was deliberate. Steady. A reminder to both of them. His thumb rested there, warm through the fabric. He felt lighter for it. Present. Happy in a way he rarely examined too closely.

Aurelian exhaled and looked back out over the ceremony space as the music readied. The scale of it all finally landed. The wealth. The control. The confidence of a government that expected the galaxy to watch.

He tilted his head, amused. "What do you make of the Commonwealth?" His mouth curved into a faint smile. "It's extravagant. Excessive. Very sure of itself." He glanced back at her. "I can appreciate people who live like this. If you're going to build power, you may as well enjoy it."

​

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Viers Connory | Judah Dashiell | Adelle Bastiel | Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna | Aiden Porte | Domar | Taeli Raaf | Lucette Raaf | Iskendyr Yvarro | Merryn Sellek

Kurayami found himself arriving a bit later than planned, to the Memorial Gardens, though he was glad to see that other guests had already arrived and were finding their seats. He was here mostly to see someone he considered family get married, though as always he was still expected to be able to provide security should it be needed. Notably absent was his modified TL-50 today, carrying instead only the modified SE-44C heavy blaster pistol mag locked to the upper thigh plates. His lightsaber hung from his hip at his left side and the XC-86 armor was polished to a rare sheen, the black and gold plates showing clearly the functionality of the armor, and the red flashes and visor denoting that there was more to it than just typical soldiers wear.

The design and sigils marked it as being from the very beginnings of the Commonwealth's rise, before they made their presence known to the wider galaxy. The aura radiating from the person wearing it was not one of oppressive darkness or brilliant light, it was simply one of tranquil calm at the moment. Though should any attempt to dig far below the surface they would note the tension that existed, that of someone ready for anything, praying for all to go according to plan today, hoping that the galaxy could forget what divided it for just a bit and simply celebrate these two. His cybernetic eye made a quick sweep of the crowd that had gathered, quickly cataloging faces and names, while through the Force he kept a feel on the 'pulse' of the gathering. Many different emotions swirled, but there was nothing that would indicate any sort of issue. For the moment he could relax.

So he took a seat, not moving from where he had been assigned watch and took a quick sip from his flask as he waited. Still on full alert and paying full attention for any shift, but hoping for all the best.

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Aurelian Veruna

Sibylla's lips curved at Aurelian's low murmur, the sound barely more than breath between them as her delicate brow brows rose as if humoring him.

"Mhmm...acquaintances, of course," she echoed softly, the words proper enough for any nearby ear, yet the tone beneath them anything but, the mischief she implied staying tucked close to him alone. Warmth filled her as much as the brightening of her expression when he bumped her shoulder, all the more so when she felt the subtle arc of his thumb graze over her. As distracting as that was, it was good to see him like this, smiling with that spark reflecting in his amber eyes even as his awareness never fully left the room.

She scanned the area, her attention catching first on the Mandalorians before settling on one whose beskar'gam shone a deep, polished black. A faint smile touched her lips as she recognized Adelle Bastiel 's Beskar'gam.

Ah, there she is.

She gave a playful tap of her fingers atop the hand Aurelian had settled against her leg in a small, intimate signal meant only for him, unable to still the way the brush of his thumb sent a quiet thrill.

"There she is," she murmured, just as softly as his earlier admission. Although sitting in this position, she couldn't pick up the distinct dark shadow that was Phantom at Adelle's feet because of the other guests.

"But where is the Queen, do you suppose?" she added, seeing as Phantom was not around Adelle's shoulders, teasing Aurelian a bit more, considering his amusing feline apprehension.

But it was his subsequent question that drew her into deeper contemplation, prompting her to give the venue a more thorough, observant scrutiny. She inclined her head slightly, doing her best to maintain a warm cordial expression so as to politely engage anyone with a smile and a nod for anyone watching. She let her gaze drift across the garden once more before returning it to him, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"Extravagant power does have its appeal," Sibylla said lightly, in a low voice for him matching his tone beat for beat. "Confidence worn so openly suggests they expect admiration rather than resistance." Her eyes flicked to his, bright with challenge.

"Which makes it rather efficient, really. Anyone bold enough to enjoy their power so publicly has already decided no one present is capable of taking it from them."

Sibylla gave a pause, tilting her head as she looked at him.

"I find that confidence admirable..." she added, softer now as she leaned just slightly towards him, "So long as it knows when it is being admired… and when it is being measured."

The smile she gave him was unmistakably a dare.

"But I am always more curious about how it behaves when the celebration ends."

 

[Aselia Verd]

Her helmet sealed out the bite of late winter air, but she could still see it breath drifting from guests, the early sun turning it to gold for a heartbeat before it vanished. Her HUD painted the scene in layers with perimeter lines, choke points, crowd density, heat signatures, the soft flicker of comms handshakes from event security. The kind of place where someone would assume nothing bad could happen because the flowers were too well-behaved.

She didn't posture, didn't loom. Aselia kept to the background the way a shadow kept to a wall present, accounted for, uninviting to problems. Head movements minimal. Scans constant. She tracked the aisle, the altar trellis, the garden entrances, and the sightlines from the skyline beyond the memorial walls. Her visor tagged a few Mandalorians small number, a tight cluster of beskar that didn't need to advertise itself. Familiar silhouettes among them, including Adelle somewhere in the broader flow if the armor profile was to be trusted. She didn't move to greet. This wasn't that kind of assignment.

Her HUD ran continual scans and updates entry points: controlled. crowd: orderly. Visible weapons: minimal, though the concealed kind would be harder to quantify. Emotional temperature: quiet, threaded with anticipation. Aselia adjusted her stance a fraction enough to keep her angle on the aisle and the nearest garden ingress, not enough to look like a statue with a gun.

TAG: Open

​

 

[Cyrine Zereth]

Assigned seating placed her among the other uniformed officers naval, ground, and joint command an orderly block of discipline amid silk and ceremony. She had arrived early enough to take the measure of the space before it was occupied, to note how security layers overlapped without crowding, how sightlines had been preserved without appearing defensive. It was, she admitted privately, well done.

She sat straight-backed, hands folded loosely in her lap, posture neither rigid nor relaxed. Her uniform was immaculate, worn without embellishment or personal flourish. Rank insignia visible. Nothing else competing for attention.

Around her, officers murmured in low voices before settling into silence as the hour approached. Cyrine did not join them. Conversation would add nothing. Observation would. Her gaze moved sparingly, efficiently. She tracked how the crowd organized itself who gravitated toward the aisle, who lingered at the margins, who watched the altar and who watched people. Heads of state carried themselves like they owned the room. Force-sensitives had a way of standing as though space should accommodate them. Security elements were present but restrained, their visibility calibrated to reassure rather than intimidate.

When the garden quieted, when the music stilled the last restless movements, Cyrine's attention settled fully forward. Not alert in the sense of anticipation there was no threat to prepare for but attentive. Ritual mattered. Continuity mattered. States endured not only through fleets and policy, but through moments like this where order presented itself as something human, deliberate, and worth preserving.


TAG: Open

 

[Rowyna Galeway]

Cyrine Zereth | Domar | Bella | Kurayami Bloodborn | Open​

Rowyna arrived just as the wedding party began to gather, slipping into a seat with practiced discretion. She found herself beside an officer she didn't recognize, hardly unusual now, with the military ranks swelling as the Commonwealth settled into its growth.

She adjusted her uniform and leaned just enough to lower her voice. "Don't suppose they'll open the reception to the rest of us," she murmured, the dryness barely there. Her eyes moved forward, taking in the layout, military seating placed well behind both families. "I've heard the High Basileus may even attend."

She let the quiet return, content to observe for a moment longer.

After a beat, she inclined her head. "Captain Rowyna Galeway." No flourish, no excess. "Strike Fleet."

That should have been the end of it.

"…There's an entire task group on patrol over Dosuun," she added, almost as an aside. The weight of the setting caught up with her then, the Grand Vizier's wedding, the press, the very real possibility of being noticed. She was after all 'hero of Brosi,' and usually did her best to stay away from these sorts of events, but her superior officer had voluntold her to represent their part of the Strike Fleet.

Rowyna exhaled softly, reins tightening again. "Apologies," she said under her breath. "I'm not usually this talkative."

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Cyrine Zereth | Domar | Bella | Rowyna Galeway | Open

Kurayami straightened his back, standing at parade rest as Captain Galeway took her seat. Her practiced discretion was immediately noticed as her ID appear. "Captain Galeway. Nice to meet you. Kurayami Bloodborn." He didn't provide information beyond that as he wasn't sure how to classify himself in terms of what he did exactly. While it was true that he was here on Ivalynn's side of the aisle, he was positioned further back to keep an eye on things. "I hadn't heard that she would be, but I wouldn't be overly surprised if she was either. The High Basileus is well known to make appearances at important sociopolitical gatherings."

He allowed the silence to hang as long as she wished. Her mention of an entire task group in a holding pattern over Dosuun was quite interesting he had to admit, though not entirely surprising given the importance of today. "An entire task group? Some may consider that overkill. However, given the history of the Commonwealth, I am glad to hear such. It is a display both of power and a means to keep the security cordon easily enforced. No need to apologize, ma'am. Always a pleasure to speak to one who has seen action in a conflict such as you have." He nodded slowly, an understanding gesture, from one officer to another, letting the silence settle back into place as it had been.

 

[Cyrine Zereth]

Cyrine had already taken the measure of both of them before either spoke.

Captain Galeway’s arrival was quiet and practiced, the sort that came from long familiarity with being watched. Bloodborn’s posture marked him as someone accustomed to responsibility, even if his role resisted simple labels. Cyrine’s expression softened slightly not enough to draw attention, but enough to signal recognition rather than reserve.

She turned toward Rowyna.

“Captain Cyrine Zereth,” she said, voice calm, open. “Commonwealth Navy.”

Then she turned her gaze met Kurayami’s for a moment as his name registered, and she inclined her head in polite acknowledgment. “Mr. Bloodborn.”

At the mention of the reception, the corner of her mouth lifted, faint but genuine. “I wouldn’t plan on it,” she said lightly. “Events like this tend to be precise about who is where and when.”

When the High Basileus was mentioned, Cyrine didn’t dismiss the thought, but neither did she dwell on it. “It would be in keeping,” she said evenly. “Though sometimes the possibility alone does the work.”

The note about the task group drew a quiet breath from her approval, not surprise. “That seems sensible,” Cyrine replied. “With this many eyes on Dosuun, restraint would be more conspicuous than readiness. And in moment's like this, people get bold.”

Rowyna’s apology earned a gentle shake of her head. “No need,” she said, tone warm but assured. “Awareness has a habit of sounding like conversation when the stakes are high.”

As the ambient noise shifted and the garden settled, Cyrine straightened, her attention drifting forward again. The moment had passed, and she let it go without urgency or discomfort.

Still, she added softly, without looking back, “It’s good to meet you both.”

Then the music began in earnest, and Cyrine returned to quiet observation present, composed, and at ease in the balance between discipline and grace.

TAG: Rowyna Galeway Kurayami Bloodborn Bella + Open

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Aselia Verd

She'd taken to reading the profiles her HUD brought up on faces recognized in publicly available databases to keep herself entertained. Quite a few of the guests were from the Commonwealth navy. It became part of a personal game: navy or not and how old are they? The HUD kept useful security information on-screen, unobtrusive and easily ignored unless it flagged a security risk. The Force felt as placid as a becalmed lake.

Aurelian started looking around, eyes moving from guests to the security line, even passing over her. What was he looking for? Was someone he knew supposed to be invited as well? He settled back in his seat, leaning over to Sibylla. The former interim Queen herself looked around, eyes finding the security line and looking over it. When she looked at Adelle, her gaze stopped and a smile ghosted over her face. Adelle inclined her head, a silent hello.

Wait, had they both been looking for her?

She had told Aurelian she'd be at a wedding in the Commonwealth.

Maybe she'd get a chance to say hello to them both after the whole shebang was done. Probably not. Too many important guests to ensure safe departure for any kind of chat to happen.

Aselia seemed to be doing far better at this than Adelle was. From what little she had seen of the Verd, the woman was every inch a professional. And she was the only other Mandalorian whose armor she recognized. Briefly, she considered opening a private comm channel to initiate some kind of conversation, but if Adelle was bad at diplomacy, she was worse with small talk.

Phantom cast a baleful glare up from where she was curled then rested her head and paw on one of Adelle's boots. <<Calm. You move too much.>>

Adelle sighed, the sound contained by the buy'ce, but glanced over when she saw the wedding party gathering to make their entrance. The music began to shift as well. Maybe she wouldn't have to endure the tedium much longer.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian's head snapped in the direction Sibylla indicated, reflex sharp as ever. He found her a second later. Black beskar, rigid stance, eyes forward. Adelle Bastiel looked carved out of discipline itself. He huffed quietly, almost amused. That was a far cry from the woman who was just cursing her luck under her breath when a weapons competition went sideways.

"Yeah," he muttered. "That's her."

His gaze dropped briefly, searching for a flash of fur or an irritated flick of a tail. Nothing. He frowned.

"No idea where Phantom is," he said, then tilted his head slightly. "The Queen's around somewhere. She never strays far."

A thought surfaced and he smirked. "She should make a beskar rig now. Backpack thing. To keep the feline close no matter what." Practical. Excessive. Very Mandalorian.

He turned back toward the altar as the garden settled, music moments away. His hand remained where it was, thumb warm against Sibylla's leg. He did not move it. He did not need to. Being here with her felt easy. Rare. His eyes traced the space again, this time with intent. The Commonwealth wore its wealth loudly. Gold trim, imported florals, security layered like ornamentation. New power announcing itself.

"It's different from Naboo," he said quietly. "This is new money elegance. Proud of it. Wants you to notice."

Internally, he compared it to marble halls weathered by centuries, influence inherited rather than seized. Naboo did not need to shout. This place did.

"I like it," he admitted, mouth curving. "They enjoy what they've built. And nothing about this feels like it's hiding behind a Sith Blackwall." He leaned back slightly, relaxed, eyes sharp. "We should explore before we leave."

Sibylla's earlier words lingered and he shook his head once, slow. "I'm less interested in how they behave when the celebration ends," he said. "I want to know how they celebrate." A glint of mischief surfaced. "People give away everything when they drink too much and feel untouchable," he added softly. "Secrets. Weaknesses. Alliances."

He glanced at her, dangerous smile intact. "That's when you learn what kind of power you're really dealing with."

​