Populate Just a Turn Around The Garden [High Republic Populate of Parcellus Minor]

[Ravion Corvalis]

​

“You chose well,” he said, voice low, smooth as silk, as she to placed a bid on the otherwise nondescript crescent moon. “And in doing so, you have set off a series of events that can be telling, especially in your chosen field of profession. Not every young lady of Naboo would look past the obvious treasure that the statues offer to place her claim upon a simple Crescent Moon. However, Lady Abrantes. What you have now shown is instinct. Questions will begin to be asked, why has she bid on this? is there something we have missed? does she have inside information? Is this something I must have? What you have done is shown the crowd who always watches that you have the instinct of one who knows she is meant for more than admiration from the garden terrace.”

He shifted slightly, inclining his head toward her with the measured air of a tutor coaxing a pupil.

“The Crescent Moon is not an ornament for a collector’s gallery. That medallion is a burden, worn by sovereigns who gave more than they were ever permitted to keep. Every crown carves its weight into the one who bears it. That is why its story endures where others fade.”

He turned back toward the statues for the briefest moment, as if they were already slipping into the realm of spectacle. “Let Aurelian bid for love. Let Porte posture for ambition. Such contests will burn themselves out soon enough. But that Crescent Moon?” His eyes caught hers again, dark and deliberate. “That will still be here long after their legacy is forgotten.”

“I shall tell you the story of that Medallion one day, Sibylla, but the crown it was supposedly taken from holds more cultural significance to this planet then perhaps even the legends of the goddess it embodies. It is a tale of bravery, treachery and romance clashing with duty. Secrets that took decades to uncover and a legacy that some say still lives on in this galaxy. Unlike some of the other finer things in life, the things that glitter and fade. This is lasting. This item holds power.” He allowed the pause to linger, as though weighing her carefully.

He indeed did walk with her for refreshment, knowing that eyes would have already been cast upon their pairing. Ravion, the humble art collector and dealer with hands in many pockets, yet none of the power and the young Abrantes, who until declaring support for the other party had been at the forefront of favour for the next crown of Naboo. The nobles of Naboo were always watching, judging, and deciding. He had to make sure they knew that he was part of this game if they liked it or not.

“I do wonder,” he said, tone dipping softer, almost conspiratorial, as he received his glass, “Knowing the line up of what is to come does indeed build some level of excitement, perhaps you would be interested in a viewing at some point, the statues aren’t the only remaining legacies of Set and Vere after all.” He paused at that, and took a drink. “I am by self regard, a bit of an amateur historian on the topic of their legend, they were one of my own first loves in this world. I feel there is a linked interest there, perhaps I can bring them to the estate on the next appraisal.”

It was an offer he knew she wouldn’t be able to refuse and it held truth to it. He was fully aware of the secret being held on Naboo at the moment, he had been pulled in to question the young Jedi rumoured to be housing the goddess’ on bequest of the High Republic, he just knew that releasing that information would do no favours in establishing the rapport he was aiming for, offering the young promising Sibylla the chance to view the artifacts of the gods however, that would go far towards his goal.

“I was surprised to hear that you had relinquished the chance to wear your own crescent medallion in favour for announcing support of Aurelian. You have the subtleties and the patience to win the crown. Perhaps however there are greater prizes? Are you perhaps looking passed the statues, and instead finding your medallion? A crown may be heavy, Lady Abrantes… but the Chancellor’s seat is heavier still.”

His smile deepened just a fraction, enough to blur the line between flattery and challenge.

“Yet I see nothing in you that suggests you would shy from such weight. Perhaps you have already considered it. Or perhaps, in time, you will.”

Sibylla Abrantes


Naboo Charity Auction Listing​

There are rumoured to be more items to come later, all bids should be placed in character and tag myself or Pillar of Reflection

Any payments for won bids will be requested of by Pillar of Reflection

Rules have been put in place. The auctioneer apologises for any inconvenience caused but reserves the right to dictate terms.
All bids must be accompanied by a tag for Pillar of Reflection
Bids must increase by reasonable increments and a ‘buy out bid’ will be denied by the auctioneer.
Minimum bid accepted for items up to starting listing of 1,000 UC is 100 UC.
Minimum bid accepted for items up to starting listing of 10,000 UC is 1,000 UC.

Lot A
Set and Vere embracing statues.
Two intricately carved statues made from the petrified branches of the Naboo Perlote Tree. While both are individual pieces it is when together that the craftsmanship truly shines, both of the ancient Naboo deities embrace each other in a way that seems impossible to have carved.
Estimated appraisal of the wood age and carving technique pre-dates many of Naboo’s current written records.


Starting Bid: 1,000 UC

Current Highest Bid: 50,200 UC / Aurelian Veruna


Lot B
Globe of Peace.
This iridescent glowing sphere is rumoured to be the very same Globe of Peace given to the Gungans centuries ago. Appraisal sings highly of it not being a fake, however with the years being like they have, you can never truly tell. It is however, an item of vast beauty.


Starting Bid: 1,000 UC

Current Highest Bid: 10,400 UC / Aiden Porte


Lot C
Future Regents Dinner
An exclusive invitation to the forthcoming Regent’s dinner hosted at the Palace of Naboo sponsored by Aurelian Veruna . The event of the year for the Noble Households of the Naboo and beyond. Considered by many as the start of the event season, the dinner sees the connections it can offer worth the price or admission for those who are not selected on title alone.


Starting Bid: 5,000 UC

Current Highest Bid: 50,000 UC / Dominic Praxon


Lot D

Royal Sovereign of Naboo Medallion

This golden crescent medallion is likely a replica of the queen’s medallion, yet with age estimates at around four thousand years old it has become a treasure within itself.


Starting Bid: 2,000 UC

Current Highest Bid: 2,500 UC / Sibylla Abrantes


Lot E

Ancient Chalice Collection
A series of ornamental chalices donated by the Naboo Fund Society. Once part of the Sal-Soren estate, they are purely ornamental and hold no power like the family’s reputation would have one believe.


Starting Bid: 3,000 UC

Current Highest Bid: 5,600 UC / Aurelian Veruna

Lot F
The Lake Accords: Of Theed & Otoh Gunga, 1st Ed.
A millennia-old account chronicling the peace accords between Theed and Otoh Gunga. Written in the early days of Nabooian diplomacy, this work preserves the wording of treaties, ceremonial records, and commentaries on inter-species collaboration. Originals are crafted with delicate vellum pages and hand-inked illustrations, while reproductions are printed on cheaper flimsiplast and sometimes omit marginalia or illustrations.


Starting Bid: 1,000 UC


Current Highest Bid: 1,000 UC / Dominic Praxon

*A second chime has sounded indicating the time for bidding to end is closing

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

X | X​

Aurelian's laughter softened to a quiet hum as he fully focused on Nathan and Sera. Despite his easy charm, his attention was now precise, as if he had sharpened his internal view. He noted the Jedi's nod and Sera Mina's thoughtful reply. Both struck him as individuals deeply committed to their beliefs. Admirable, he thought, but certainly dangerous.

He lifted his glass.

"Ah, but here I must confess my heresy before this noble company," Aurelian said, his eyes glinting. "I'm not here tonight with any grand ambition to remake the galaxy, or to exhaust myself trying to heal it. The galaxy," he said, flicking his hand dismissively as if casting a die into fire, "has always been chaos. It's too vast to tame, too fractured to unite, and ultimately beyond saving. Anyone who believes they can mold it into some perfect ideal will simply break themselves trying."

He swirled his wine again, then lowered the glass, his gaze sharp, cutting between Nathan and Sera. "No. I am Naboo's steward. A son of Parrlay, sworn to my home's soil and, by extension, to the High Republic that secures Naboo's place in this galaxy. Their needs come before all others. The galaxy may starve, riot, and burn at its edges, but Naboo and the High Republic must endure. That is what I will stake everything on, where I will carve my mark."

His smile sharpened, his gaze lingering on Sera as he weighed her words. "To heal or to remake, you and Nathan may have the luxury of choosing. I do not. Naboo is no laboratory for noble experiments. My task is simpler, crueler: to preserve her beauty and legacy, her very place, even if the stars themselves collapse."

The shift in the crowd's energy pulled his eyes across the hall once more. Sibylla. She was regal and poised, her gaze fixed on that crescent moon medallion, her movements precise. Her bid wasn't what soured his mood; it was her company: Ravion Corvalis. The art dealer carried too many secrets and wielded too much influence for a man of no true lineage.

Aurelian's jaw tightened, though his smile held. The sight of Sibylla walking arm-in-arm with Corvalis needled him more than he cared to admit.

He turned his attention back to Nathan and Sera with renewed energy, his dangerous grin flashing as if the irritation had only fueled his words.

"Speaking of legacy…" He reached into his pocket and slid two more chips across the attendant's tray without a glance. "Lot A, the statues; fifty thousand, three hundred. And Lot E, the chalices; five thousand, seven hundred." The motions were casual, understated, but his tone made the act deliberate. He intended to seal the deal, ending the contest with a precise cut rather than a grand display.

He lifted his glass in a quiet toast toward Nathan and Sera, though his eyes lingered just a breath longer across the garden, on Sibylla. "In the end," he said, his voice smooth, "it's not about how far one reaches, but how permanent one's hold is. That, my friends, is legacy."

The smile remained, but beneath it, the irritation flickered, sharp as a knife's gleam in the dark.

Spoiler

Lot A - 50,300
Lot E - 5,700
Pillar of Reflection

Nathan Bloodscrawl | Sera Mina​

 

[Sera Mina]

"You may well have a point about the Galaxy at large." Sera admitted to him quietly, deeply troubled that she found his ruthless, machine like logic so compelling. Distantly, Nathan also felt the same sort of disquiet at agreeing with Veruna.

"Neither I nor the Jedi next to you wish to see this beautiful world succumb as Coruscant did. You are right to focus on what you know can be preserved. It's the mark of a wise ruler..." she added. "My ideals have always been about doing the best with the power I have for the greatest number. But that is not always feasible. But you are the first I have ever met to put it in such a way that I find compelling as an argument. The High Republic should persevere. It deserves the chance to survive. And it deserves a ruler willing to do what's necessary to see it thrive against the various threats that come to destroy it. A Ruler who sees, very clearly, what the problem is."

A passing waiter offered her a glass of white Naboo Wine to her and Nathan. She took it, found herself genuinely returning the dangerous shark smile Aurelian Veruna gave to both.

"I have long been tempted to think, as you do, on such things..." she added. It was the truth. "After all, we need only see what happens when leadership falls short of its obligations, if the state of the Core Worlds are any indication."

"Even I find myself more open to such thinking, after the fall of the Core. As a Jedi, I cannot abandon my vow to protect the innocent wherever possible, but I cannot ignore the fact that ideals mean very little without lasting, concrete success such as what you live by." Nathan spoke in the same quiet tone he and Veruna had been using through their whole interaction. The dinner with Veruna was going to be more interesting than even he had thought...

"And you are absolutely right about legacy. The wider the reach, the tougher it is to grasp." he added a second later.

"To your bid for your vision of the future, Prince of Parrlay." Sera said, finding that she meant it as she raised her glass to him, taking an extremely light sip, barely enough to taste.

But Veruna had her attention. Her and her father's. He spoke more sense than she had ever heard from an Alliance Senator.

She honestly wanted him to be given a chance to convince her family further...

 

[Blaire Sal-Soren]

He was surrounded. People buzzed around like flies each seeking a piece of him for some end or another. Blaire could not help but be a little impressed with the way he made it seem as though it were his choice to be assaulted so.

The Prince of Parrlay, the latest subject of nearly every noble sewing circle, though Viz's little brother certainly seemed eager to give him a run for that title. Blaire could admit to her own passing curiosity where Aurelian Veruna was concerned. Even Blaire could not escape the news of what happened on Parrlay, how could she? It was the news on Naboo.

With everything happening around him, still Prince Veruna paid her some of his attention. He could've ignored her as he ignored dozens of others. What was she to him? Nothing at all or that's what she would've believed an hour ago. Now? He proved otherwise. He had no use for those chalices, yet, he chose to outbid her.

He'd made the first move. He pursued her. The chase was on.

"Six thousand." She called, nearly as soon as he finished placing his latest bid.

6000ucs lot E

| Outfit: xxx | Tag: Aurelian Veruna Pillar of Reflection | Equipment: xxx |​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Blast him, though. Ravion Corvalis played the game well. His words about the Crescent Moon struck their mark with how he wrapped bravery, treachery, and romance in a tale that she couldn't help but muse upon.

It was tempting, too tempting. But at this point, it was better to let him think she was a wide eyed noblewoman enthralled by stories of love and sacrifice, rather than the politician weighing every move.

At least, that was what Sibylla told herself.

But of course, when he spoke of other relics tied to Set and Vere, her composure slipped. Her hazel eyes lit despite herself with a spark she couldn't hide.

"I would be interested in that, Mister Corvalis. Perhaps you might even stay for dinner." The invitation came smoothly enough, her mind already weighing what she could learn, about the star-crossed pair, yes, but more importantly about what else she could learn. Corvalis likely had made his rounds the past year. He would know best which noble families were still buying art… and which had begun selling. That was how a house's decline was first revealed, not in politics, but in what they were willing to part with for credits.

At the table, an attendant offered her a glass of lemonade. Slipping her arm from Ravion's she took it. Taking a sip, and while it was cold and refreshing, she almost wished for something stronger. Her thoughts betrayed her, wandering to the Corellian whiskey Aurelian had pressed into her hands. The corner of her mouth tugged upward at the memory. Her father would have been scandalized. Abrantes vineyards prided themselves on refinement, not frontier fire.

She had just swallowed when Corvalis struck with the question she had expected. Her withdrawal from the running. Outwardly, her expression was calm, pleasant, but inside the memory burned. She had been asked this question everywhere since her announcement. And at home… at home it had erupted into arguments she wanted no part of tonight.

And the truth? It wasn't only politics. Yes, she had backed Aurelian because of the facets she's seen in the last year with the assembly. Because she believed in him and he meant well for Naboo, despite how infuriating he could be. But part of her still wondered if she had stepped aside because she had doubted herself. Had she truly wanted the crown? Or had she only reached for it because everyone else expected her to? The thought lingered like a shadow she dared not show to Corvalis.

The auctioneer's call rose as the second chime for bidding resonated across the garden. Aurelian Veruna 's voice cut through with another bid shortly after. Instinctively, her gaze flicked toward him, watching him again as he flashed an even brighter brilliant grin that contrasted deeply against his tanned, chiseled features to Madame Sera Mina and Nathan Bloodscrawl. He made it look so easy. It annoyed her that it upset her.

Yet, the smile lingered upon Sibylla's own lips, and she turned to shine it upon Mister Corvalis with no apparent guile, leaning in closer as if in confidence.

"I've watched Senator Veruna press forward time and again. Not just to defend Naboo, but in the Assembly when we were the Royal Republic and now after the transition into the High Republic. His resolve and drive to ensure we endure hasn't wavered."

Applause rippled. Fans fluttered. Nobles laughed too loudly and tossed credits like it was a sport. Everyone wore a mask. Everyone performed.

"This race isn't about crowns or titles," Sibylla continued in a quiet but firm tone that brought to the fore on why she had been selected as the Ambassador for the Mandalorian Empire. "It's about Naboo standing strong. Chancellor Kalantha said it best: our greatest threat is division. Senator Veruna has the strength to defend us. But strength alone isn't enough. The Republic's heart beats strongest when we're together. Not blindly, but by the genuine belief that we are all in this together."

She let the words hang a moment, then finished simply: "That's why I stand with him, placing my bid for Voice of the Houses to assist as a united front."

That cordial smile lingered just as flawlessly as her mother had taught her. But behind it, her eyes measured Corvalis just as sharply as he measured her. He thought he was reading her. Perhaps he was. But Dejarik was never won in a single move.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

X | X​

The Jedi's tone held the quiet weight of an oath, while Sera Mina's carried sharp conviction. He'd anticipated lectures, perhaps even a thinly veiled rebuke. Instead, they offered something rarer: agreement, and more interestingly, admiration.

He raised his glass again, his lips curling into that dangerous smile that had spoiled many conversations. "Ah," he said softly, "how refreshing this has been." He confessed he'd walked into the evening with little hope it would be more than tedious chatter about who dined where or whose seamstress offered the latest silks. "Instead," he added, his eyes flicking between Nathan and Sera with deliberate weight, "I find myself in company truly worth the conversation."

He inclined his head toward Sera, his eyes glittering with mischief even as his words were sincere. "You flatter me, my lady," he began, "but you also remind me of a truth most prefer to avoid. Ruling means shaping what one can hold with certainty; it's not simply indulging in dreams. Your recognition of the strength required to preserve what we love speaks more of your wisdom than you perhaps intend to reveal."

His tone shifted slightly for Nathan, respectful, though still threaded with that sly edge. "And you, Jedi," he continued, "an order sworn to ideals, yet wise enough to see that ideals without permanence are little more than air. I thought your kind always favored lofty sermons, but you prove far more pragmatic than most. It's a quality I must admire, and perhaps even envy."

He drained the last of his wine, placing the empty glass on a passing servant's tray. "You have both made this evening far more interesting than I expected," he said. He paused, letting the silence linger, "I hope this will not be our last conversation. I would very much like to receive that invitation sooner rather than later. There is more to be said."

With that, he straightened, resuming the posture of a prince, leaving behind the role of a confidant. He reached for Sera's hand once more, bending to press his lips lightly against her knuckles. The gesture was courtly, but the look in his eyes was anything but tame. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, my lady. And you as well, Jedi."

He turned away, his smile cooling as his gaze inevitably sought Sibylla Abrantes . There she was, still poised, still radiant, her laughter and composure shining like the damnable reflection of a jewel. But no, she now shone that smile upon Ravion Corvalis , leaning in as if sharing secrets meant for no one else. The sight burned in him, a hot, sharp jealousy clawing at his ribs.

He forced himself to look away before bitterness could curdle his expression. His eyes roamed the hall instead, restless, hunting. The applause, the fans, the bidding, it all swirled together, an endless game of masks and coin. Amid the hum of it, one figure caught his attention again, Blaire Sal-Soren . He saw her place another bid.

"Six thousand!"

The number rang out, bold and defiant. He watched her from across the room: the tilt of her chin, the spark in her eye as she cast her challenge. Oh yes, she wanted to play. She had been circling all evening, testing, teasing. The corners of his mouth curled again, this time with the wolfish satisfaction of a predator sensing a new hunt.

Aurelian reached into his pocket, drawing out another chip with unhurried grace. He slid it onto the attendant's tray, his voice carrying just enough to cut across the crowd.

"Lot E," he said, smooth as silk, "six thousand, one hundred."

A precise cut. Enough to sting. Enough to ensure she would not win, not tonight. He lingered, glassless now, but still radiating restless power, watching her reaction from a distance. The game was shifting, and Naboo's dangerous prince was far from done playing.

Spoiler

6,100 UC Lot E Pillar of Reflection

Sera Mina | Nathan Bloodscrawl​

 

[Aiden Porte]

It seemed the race for these items was coming to a close, Aurelian had outbid him for the statues and then he was now gunning for the chalices. Which were significantly less than the statues, and truth be told they didn't carry any weight for him. Granted for him, the Globe of Peace didn't either yet it would be a good gift for a friend of his. So he looked to be squared away on that, but just for good measure.

"Lot B 10,500" The Jedi Knight called out, this was for a good cause after all. He had already donated over a hundred thousand credits to this cause. What was a few more? Besides this was well worth it.

"Lot E 6,200" Aiden called out as well, giving a small nod and wave towards the auctioneer.

The High Republic wasn't perfect, he had often said this so many times. It never would be, but it was something worth standing for. Every single planet that refused to bow to chaos, that's what made the High Republic worth fighting for.


*********************

Pillar of Reflection

Lot B - 10,500

Lot E - 6,200

 

[Dominic Praxon]

Dominic’s smile deepened at her warning. The glint of mischief in her voice was met with a calm, measured warmth. "Rivals?" His head tilted slightly, hazel eyes tracing her expression, "no, Miss Sorelle. You are not my rival. There is nothing here that bars us from becoming...better acquainted."

The words lingered, his tone meant to reassure while leaving the door open to possibility. He let her see that he weighed her reactions, not dismissing the flush in her cheeks nor the softening of her smile.

A soft step intruded, and Lysa bent to his ear. The aide’s whisper was too low for others, but the subtle tightening of his jaw betrayed its importance. Dominic’s hand fell briefly to his side, fingers curling as if to steady himself against the weight of it. Still, he turned back to Loria with his composure intact, though a trace of shadow lingered behind his eyes.

"Forgive me. Matters of state insist on reminding me they are never far," he said smoothly, though it was plain the news had marred his mood.

For a moment his gaze drifted, catching on the light of the chandeliers above. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, as though reaching for a thread of clarity. "Do you know the old Nabooian poem of Teyra and Javin? The lovers parted by the millaflower? It ends with the line... 'One petal torn, and the whole bloom withers.' A cruel reminder that beauty, love, even promise...can be ended by the smallest of cruelties." His eyes lingered on hers a breath longer than needed, as if testing her.

With visible effort, he pulled himself back to her, a fainter smile reshaping his features. "But enough of wilted blossoms. When I win the Lake Accords this evening - and I will - there should be a reading. A public reading, perhaps. A formal luncheon at the Praxon Estate. You would be most welcome, Miss Sorelle. After all..." his smirk returned, softer now, "what use is history without one to share it?"

Loria Sorelle​

 

[Ravion Corvalis]

​

“I do enjoy a dinner at the Abrantes. It is always a delightful affair.” Ravion offered freely. Indeed he would take up Sibylla on this offer, in time with his little collection of relics and antiques, the physical part of the services he offered. Alas though he understood that a statue or a painting was just the icing on a cake of talk and position. So he continued to listen without interruption, glass poised lightly between his fingers, his expression the very picture of refined attentiveness. When she finished, he inclined his head, as though acknowledging not only her words, but the very change in the air from how she had delivered them.

“Spoken like a true Abrantes,” he said at last, voice smooth and with the slightest hint of amusement. “Strong, eloquent, and as expected, completely unflinching. If your mother could hear those words carried across the Assembly floor, she would no doubt be as proud as Naboo itself.”

He let that praise settle a heartbeat before continuing, softer now, his dark eyes fixed on hers.

“And yet…. Lady Abrantes, what I see is clarity. You are right of course; this race is not about crowns. But more about those who sit the closest to crowns, those who know better than most how fragile unity can be, how easily belief must be shaped, how it must be stoked, tended to like a new flame. Senator Veruna may wield strength, yes. But it is voices like yours that make others believe that his strength can be trusted.”

He took a slow sip of his wine, lowering the glass as the auctioneer’s call rose again behind them. His next words were delivered in confidence, directly to her through fixed eyes.

“You play modesty well Sibylla and wisely. I know what you are doing though; let the room see only a young noblewoman loyal to her champion, they will dismiss you as a symbol rather than the strategist. As no more than the voice he uses to get what he wants done. But I have sat through too many auctions, too many councils, not to recognize the truth.”

He leaned a fraction closer, his tone dipping into that intimate register that made his words linger.

“You stand beside Veruna today because you know what Naboo requires. But tomorrow?” His smile curled. “Tomorrow it may be you who commands the Assembly’s ear. Do not deny it, Lady Abrantes. Subtlety is your weapon and it can carry you further than crowns or titles. I’m sure you have your eyes set higher than Veruna’s hitman”

He drew back, allowing the air to fill with the garden’s music once more, as though nothing weighty had passed between them. Only then did he raise his glass again in a polite, almost playful gesture.

“But until then,” he said lightly, “let us toast to unity, as you so rightly call it. For unity, after all, is the stage upon which power performs its most graceful dance. A dance I fully intend on enjoying. Oh look I do believe you have won something Miss Abrantes. ”

A series of chimes sounded, the auctioneer declaring the winners of the auction.

Sibylla Abrantes



Naboo Charity Auction Listing​

There are rumoured to be more items to come later, all bids should be placed in character and tag myself or Pillar of Reflection
Any payments for won bids will be requested of by Pillar of Reflection
Rules have been put in place. The auctioneer apologises for any inconvenience caused but reserves the right to dictate terms.
All bids must be accompanied by a tag for
Bids must increase by reasonable increments and a ‘buy out bid’ will be denied by the auctioneer.
Minimum bid accepted for items up to starting listing of 1,000 UC is 100 UC.
Minimum bid accepted for items up to starting listing of 10,000 UC is 1,000 UC.

Lot A
Set and Vere embracing statues.
Two intricately carved statues made from the petrified branches of the Naboo Perlote Tree. While both are individual pieces it is when together that the craftsmanship truly shines, both of the ancient Naboo deities embrace each other in a way that seems impossible to have carved.
Estimated appraisal of the wood age and carving technique pre-dates many of Naboo’s current written records.

Starting Bid: 1,000 UC

WINNING Bid: 50,300 UC / Aurelian Veruna


Lot B
Globe of Peace.
This iridescent glowing sphere is rumoured to be the very same Globe of Peace given to the Gungans centuries ago. Appraisal sings highly of it not being a fake, however with the years being like they have, you can never truly tell. It is however, an item of vast beauty.

Starting Bid: 1,000 UC

WINNING Bid: 10,500 UC / Aiden Porte


Lot C
Future Regents Dinner
An exclusive invitation to the forthcoming Regent’s dinner hosted at the Palace of Naboo sponsored by Aurelian Veruna , The event of the year for the Noble Households of the Naboo and beyond. Considered by many as the start of the event season, the dinner sees the connections it can offer worth the price or admission for those who are not selected on title alone.

Starting Bid: 5,000 UC

WINNING Bid: 50,000 UC / Dominic Praxon


Lot D
Royal Sovereign of Naboo Medallion
This golden crescent medallion is likely a replica of the queen’s medallion, yet with age estimates at around four thousand years old it has become a treasure within itself.

Starting Bid: 2,000 UC

WINNING Bid: 2,500 UC / Sibylla Abrantes


Lot E
Ancient Chalice Collection
A series of ornamental chalices donated by the Naboo Fund Society. Once part of the Sal-Soren estate, they are purely ornamental and hold no power like the family’s reputation would have one believe.

Starting Bid: 3,000 UC

WINNING Bid: 6,200 UC / Aiden Porte

Lot F
The Lake Accords: Of Theed & Otoh Gunga, 1st Ed.
A millennia-old account chronicling the peace accords between Theed and Otoh Gunga. Written in the early days of Nabooian diplomacy, this work preserves the wording of treaties, ceremonial records, and commentaries on inter-species collaboration. Originals are crafted with delicate vellum pages and hand-inked illustrations, while reproductions are printed on cheaper flimsiplast and sometimes omit marginalia or illustrations.

Starting Bid: 1,000 UC

WINNING Bid: 1,000 UC / Dominic Praxon

Please pay all related UCs to Pillar of Reflection and congratulations.

 

[Blaire Sal-Soren]

Outbid for her own family's legacy.

Some redebut. What sort of announcement was this? Blaire Sal-Soren, finished running, no longer hiding, takes her first purposeful steps toward making something of the name she was given and falls flat on her face? That would not do for it. Not at all.

In her determination to win Blaire hadn't noticed Oraura slip away, doubtlessly to chase down Senator Pehnataur. Blaire congratulated Aiden on his winning bids, completely glancing over the fact that the Jedi Knight not the prince was who had won the chalices over her, and marched, head high toward Senator Veruna.

"Do you have a place for them or just planning to melt them down?" She asked approaching the Prince of Parrlay.

| Outfit: xxx | Tag: Aurelian Veruna | Equipment: xxx |​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

X | X​

Aurelian hadn't expected the statues to climb so high in price, but when the hammer finally fell and Lot A was declared his, he felt no trace of regret. The Set and Vere pieces were priceless in more ways than coin could measure. He gestured for his efficient aide, Tona, to step forward.

"See that they are handled as if they were carved from starlight itself," he instructed quietly. The dangerous gleam in his eyes softened only for her loyalty. "Straight to the office. I'll not have them ogled by fools any longer than necessary."

But satisfaction soured when the auctioneer's voice declared Lot E, the chalices, not his, nor Blaire's, but some other man's. His gaze found the interloper at once, narrowing, dark with a glower that carried the weight of insult. A stranger, not of Naboo's noble houses, and yet meddling here? What use could such a man have for relics of the Sal-Soren name? The question clawed at him. It wasn't about the chalices, but the principle of the thing that bothered him. Aurelian hated losing, least of all to someone who shouldn't have been seated at the table at all.

Then Blaire appeared. The sting of loss faded the moment her stride cut through the hall, her head held high, her presence sharp as any dagger. He let his gaze travel over her, unashamed, meeting her eyes with that smile, the one that promised mischief as easily as it threatened danger.

"Do I have a place for them?" he echoed, teasing. "Well, that depends." His glance dropped for a breath, deliberate, before rising to lock with hers again. "If I were entertaining one of your sisters, perhaps I'd display them just to watch the envy light in their eyes. A petty amusement, but one I could hardly resist."

The smile deepened, wolfish now. "But if it were you, Lady Blaire, I suspect we might have made better use of them. A drink shared perhaps, tasting sweeter for the history in the cup. And in that case," he spread his hands lightly, a mock-regretful gesture, "it seems the Republic has been robbed of quite the evening."

He leaned a fraction closer, enough that his words seemed meant for her alone, though his voice carried just enough for anyone attentive, perhaps Sibylla among them, to overhear the cadence if not the intimacy. "Unless, of course, I buy them back from this stranger. Which, given the irritation he's caused me, is starting to feel like a very tempting proposition."

Aurelian let the moment linger, then tilted his head, studying Blaire with deliberate intensity. "Tell me, was it merely the chalices you wanted, or the announcement of having claimed them?"

His gaze flicked, subtle but purposeful, toward where Sibylla still stood with Ravion, radiant and laughing. He didn't outwardly linger on her, but the act itself was calculated. Let Sibylla see, if she cared to. Let her notice that Blaire had his attention.

Blaire Sal-Soren​

 

[Loria Sorelle]

LORIA SORELLE
Calarian Estate, Naboo

'Oh?' she smirked with the warmth of a practiced noblewoman. She watched as his smile deepened further, listening as his words lingered for but a moment as if anticipation filled the air. Loria thought for a moment, teasing her new friend with anticipation.

'I should like that very much, Mr Praxon. I'm finding that the more time we spend together, the more books we find on our reading list,' she spoke suggestively, a coy smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Once again in the corner of her eye, Dominic's aide, Lysa, appeared. She watched carefully as his demeanor shifted slightly, picking up on the mood-shift immediately.

'Ah,' she spoke softer than before, a tint of disappointment in her voice.

Loria tilted her head, eyes lowering just enough to soften her gaze. 'I do!' a bright smile manifested upon Ria's face. 'The bloom is all the more exquisite for knowing how easily it may be bruised. Some flowers invite the touch… even if it risks the petal...'

Her words lingered, as did her eyes.

The two shared a moment, a 'look', perhaps a few seconds longer than they should have.

After a few moments, Dominic's kind voice pierced the lingering silence as the pair returned to reality. Her ears perked up at the sound of the auctioneer and the chimes calling the auction to a close. 'Looks like the Lake Accords are yours, Mr Praxon,' she spoke, her eyes turning from the auction room to him.

She continued to listen, her eyes almost glistening as he spoke.

'I...' she hesitated for but a moment, her mind beginning to race. She so desperately wanted to accept, yet she felt the cautious voice of her family in her head. Was it too soon? Would she be safe around him? Was he interested in who she was or who she represents?

She felt her hesitation in that moment, it was as clear as day. She spluttered out her words impulsively '...would love to attend a public reading!' Her awkward smile softened into something more assured, the warmth of her eyes belying her earlier hesitation.

'Though it seems our evening is drawing to a close,' she said lightly, though her tone betrayed a trace of regret. 'A pity… for once I find myself wishing the last lot would never fall, just to keep the conversation...'

Dominic Praxon

​

 

[Dominic Praxon]

Her response left Dominic with a genuinely warm smile. For a moment, the ever-composed Senatorial hopeful was without words. Really, he was without the word. The word to describe Loria. For she was surely unlike any other woman that had pulled his attention.

His gaze had lingered a breath too long. The faintest hint of awkwardness washed over his countenance, echoed in his posture and glances away from the socialite.

His composure quickly returned, as did his command of the moment.

What was that word...

"Then I shall have my assistant contact you. Do not fret if a Xandyr Carrick appears in your holo contact list," he said, knowing that Xandyr could properly vet the young woman. Though, it seemed hardly necessary.

What was that word...

Lysa was standing just in his periphery. Dominic could sense from the tension in her posture that she was getting annoyed at his lingering. And yet he lingered.

"It is a shame that we should part so soon. And with such a long reading list," he said, his mouth curling into a crooked smile.

He released her arm, but held her hand gently. With a well-practiced bow, he pulled her hand to his lips and gave a proper gentlemanly farewell. His eyes never left hers.

"I bid you well. And soon may our paths cross again. Perhaps next time we shall linger in our wanderings a little longer," he said, before reluctantly releasing her hand. His hand felt immediately cold, as if plunged into an autumn-time lake.

He smiled again, this time pursed. He took a half step back, turned, and then glanced back at Loria for just a moment. His eyes held apologies that she could not be permitted to hear.

What was that word...

His pace quickened as Lysa took her place striding beside him. "Find out everything you can about her. Her favourite author. Favourite colour. Name of her childhood nanny. Find out who her friends are, and if she has any enemies. Find out what her grades were in year six arithmetic," he said under his breath, "everything. Find out everything."

"She must be quite a lot more charming than I had imagined," Lysa commented. Dominic did not miss the sarcasm in her tone, but let it slide.

"Charming. Yes. But, more..."

What was the word...

"...endearing."

His heart was comforted by finally acquiring the correct attribution for Loria's presence.

"A lot of research for endearing," Lysa said, sounding annoyed. This...Dominic did not let slide.

He stopped just before exiting the door, turned with the hope of catching Loria's lingering gaze, and offered a farewell salute from a distance. "Endearing makes the investment more pleasant, but do not be short sighted, Lysa," he said before turning his attention back to his willowy assistant, "Loria Sorelle is my ticket to the Senate."

Loria Sorelle | EXIT​

 

[Loria Sorelle]

LORIA SORELLE
Calarian Estate, Naboo

Loria's eyes lingered upon Dominic, her heart fluttering as he took her hand in farewell. Her face flustered, her heart almost beginning to ache as such a sweet exchange drew to a close. She began to wonder whether she would truly see him again, and whether this Xandyr Carrick would actually contact her.

'Farewell, Mr Praxon,' her voice softly trailed off as she watched him depart, his hand slowly drifting from hers.

She watched longingly as he continued in his departure. As he turned, she offered a warm, endearing smile; Her own response to Dominic's apologetic eyes, a response of hope, hope that the two would meet once again.

With their brief time together over, Loria meandered back to her friends who had been patiently waiting for her- waiting eagerly for more information on the 'mysterious man'.

'Ria! Where did you vanish to?' Elowen's voice was bright, tinged with inquisitive reproach, the sudden burst of energy almost startling Loria from her reverie.

Her gaze shifted between her two friends, and in that instant their eyes widened, the truth dawning without a word spoken.

'Don't tell me…' Selara's voice dropped, half-gasp, half-laugh.

Loria only pressed her lips together in a faint smile, the sort of secretive expression that invited speculation but yielded no answers. The warmth of Dominic's hand still lingered in her own, and though she said nothing, her silence spoke volumes...

Final post for Dominic Praxon .

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Plays modesty well.

The phrase cut sharper than it should have. As though the years Sibylla had spent under the weight of expectation, the constant shaping of her name, her House, her very self into something Naboo could respect and rely on -- as though it were nothing but performance. A trick. A manipulation.

Sibylla did her best to maintain that practiced expression of attentive cordiality at Ravion Corvalis , but inside, heat stirred in her chest as frustration and irritation bloomed. She had done everything in her power to walk the line between dignity and ambition, between what her family demanded and what Naboo deserved. Ravion made it sound cheap. And worse, he made it sound true.

And he was clever. Too clever. His voice lingered, painting her as the quiet strategist, the unseen hand that turned trust into power. For a heartbeat, she hated that he was clever enough to strike where her own doubts already lived.

Yet it was the auctioneer's confirmation of the end of the auction that broke the moment. Sibylla turned, glad for the distraction.

"So it seems, Mister Corvalis," she said at last in that rich melodic tone, lifting her glass. She clinked it lightly against his her smile as gracious as ever while her hazel eyes stayed sharp.

"All thanks to your advisement," she added, referencing the Queen's Medallion, even as her gaze drifted toward where Aurelian Veruna stood speaking to Tona.

Of course, Aurelian had won the statues.

Sibylla felt disappointment twist in her chest, and Ravion would likely see she didn't hide it well. Her penchant for anything regarding Set and Vere was telling, too telling, but he had already figured it out.

"Seems congratulations are in order to Senator Veruna ," she offered as polite conversation, lifting her glass to sip. It was then that Blaire Sal-Soren cut through the crowd, storming toward Aurelian with fire in every line of her body. Tall, dark, striking, her displeasure was plain as it etched across her beautiful features. House Sal-Soren, of course, through the blending of prestigious family bloodlines of Naboo, Hapes, and Corellia, was known not only for their abilities in the Force, but also their beauty, and even though Sibylla didn't know Blaire personally, she knew well enough that the woman carried a passion that made her so...vibrant.

Just look at how she ignored what others thought as she openly displayed her vexation at Aurelian -- and for the briefest moment, Sibylla felt a stab of jealousy at the young woman's freedom to do so.

And oh… Aurelian was not one to disappoint.

Sibylla's hazel eyes caught before she could stop herself, drawn to the sharp exchange. She wasn't surprised to see Aurelian's grin curve in response; deliberate, knowing. His gaze traced Blaire's figure as though committing her to memory, each line studied like a sculptor at work. Something in Sibylla tightened. That awareness of him had taken root since their fight in his office, only worsened by his incessant quips during the shield testing. And now, watching him play the same part with Lady Sal-Soren, it irritated her more than she cared to admit.

Of course, he'd likely say that this was all done in a professional manner.

So why should it matter? The thought was ridiculous. Her judgment of his rakish ways flared quick, but just as quickly came the guilt. Because she knew Aurelian was more than his reputation, and that truth only made the bitterness in her throat burn hotter. And still, it stung to watch him seemingly act no different, leaning close to Lady Sal-Soren with some baited remark meant to spark a reaction.

Not a sight she cared to keep watching.

So Sibylla's lips curved into an even brighter, practiced smile as she turned back to Ravion, dazzling him with the picture perfect image of a radiant and composed Abrantes. This time, her voice carried just enough for those nearby to hear.

"Well, it has been a pleasure, Mister Corvalis. I'll have my assistant arrange a time for your visit and dinner at the Abrantes Estate. My mother will be glad of your company."

She inclined her head with flawless courtesy.

"For now, I must claim my winning lot. Thank you for your companionship."

Her smile lingered, but inside her thoughts burned. She needed a drink, something strong enough to sear away the taste of Ravion's words, and the bitter taste of her own reaction to the day's events.

"Enjoy your evening," she said lightly, intending to depart under the excuse of claiming her prize.

 

[Raylin Fall]

Money.

Politics.
​

In the hubbub of the drawdown of the evening, Sergeant Fall had taken up another avenue of entertainment-

A sneaky dice game with the staff, kitchen workers, busboys and the like. He fit in more there, even in his fancy dress uniform. He also was on a hot streak and had nearly gotten into two fistfights- a much more evening befitting him, than the fanfare, pageantry and charity auctions. Not that he didn't mind charity. But it always felt so...

Odd that they spent money in order to get money to then spend it somewhere else.

Perhaps he was just a poor kid forever in his mind but-

At any rate, he just won another hand at dice. And that meant, of course, the best prize of all of the evening: More finger foods. They didn't have much to bet with, and the party platters weren't going anywhere. So why spend money, when the option for the best food in the house was on the line? He found it much more compelling there, wolfing down.... he had no real idea, it was tasty. Some kind of thing on some type of cracker. Good enough.

Raylin Fall, in his opinion, may not have waxed poetic and mused about books with a pretty woman, won a fair deal in the auction, or even secured any political points... but he did have a good time after all.

 

[Blaire Sal-Soren]

"…A petty amusement, but one I could hardly resist…."

"We're all allowed our simple indulgences." She told him, smiling softly and politely as though the jab at her sisters was nothing more than the average pleasantry. "I will be sure my sisters know just how close they came to enjoying your pleasure, if only you'd been sharp enough to finish the deed."

His smile deepened, wolfish now. "But if it were you, Lady Blaire, I suspect we might have made better use of them. A drink shared perhaps, tasting sweeter for the history in the cup. And in that case," he spread his hands lightly, "it seems the Republic has been robbed of quite the evening."

"It would appear so," she feigned exaggerated sorrow. "A tragedy worth being chronicled, I dare say. the day Aurelian Veruna lost twice." She teased.

He leaned in conspiratorially. Blaire allowed him to breach her personal space without a hint of protestation. The very scent of him was princely, woodsmoke, wine, and something floral.

"Unless, of course, I buy them back from this stranger. Which, given the irritation he's caused me, is starting to feel like a very tempting proposition."

"And if he denies you?" She asked, finally looking back to him. Blaire was now aware of who had won possession of her family heirloom. A stranger to the prince perhaps but not to her. She could not, however, stop herself from wondering why Aiden had thrown a late bid on her family's chalices. Perhaps she would ask when he came by. "That would be three losses in an evening by my count. Perhaps for all our safety you wait a day or so to approach him. We wouldn't want the galaxy to collapse on itself."

"Tell me, was it merely the chalices you wanted, or the announcement of having claimed them?"

From the intensity of his scrutiny, this appeared to be a question with consequences. She could not begin to guess for whom those consequences were intended nor what they could possibly be. She did not wilt under his gaze. Far from it. The way he stared, she assumed, gave him some sense of power, as though she should feel pressure to answer correctly. His studying gaze broke from her for merely a moment but Blaire clocked it all the same.

She placed a hand on his wrist softly, laughed that girlish laugh they learned in etiquette lessons and swayed to the other side of him.

"I don't find it particularly difficult to hold two desires simultaneously," she said coyly, her own observant eyes finding what she assumed had caught his attention. No, not what, who "Do you?"

She's gorgeous.

She wondered who she was too him. Sibylla Abrantes, glittering in the sunlight, a jewel amongst the garden, a simple silver circlet placed perfectly in the waves of her dark hair which shine in the sun, same as her dress.

A political adversary? Blaire had heard some rumors of their…rivalry. Or was she merely a curiosity to him as Blaire was now? Perhaps that glance, simple and quick as it was, held more.

It was Blaire's turn to lean toward the prince, if she was to be used in whatever game he hoped to win, well, she wanted to play to, and she would play by his rules. "It's a shame that your lack of possessing a set of chalices you only just learned the existence of has stolen your desire to taste…history, was it?" She practically purred.

From over the prince's shoulder she caught sight of something that nearly stopped her heart.

It can't be

she told herself

it couldn't be

But there was no mistaking that tangle of wild hair nor that stupid half smile.

"Pray excuse me," she told the prince, her face turning red with embarrassment despite her very best efforts to remain poised. She did not wait for his leave to depart from him.

She again marched through the crowd of those nobles who remained after the bidding to mill about and chatter. This time her head was not held high, she moved as though she was hoping to avoid being seen at all, fury roiling off of her every step.

Fucking idiot

Stupid

Stupid

With each step the edges of her vision grew ever black, no longer did she see the staring nobles in their silks, or the brilliant colors of the meticulously manicured hedges; only him. The man she had been fool enough to be in love with, and an even bigger fool to bare his children. None, save perhaps Briana, knew that Jaa Ardan fathered her children and how could they? Her father's servant, her bodyguard, that was scandal enough, add to it that Jaa was known to be a member of The New Way, a group that had terrorized her family and Naboo. For all she knew he was still wanted, branded a traitor and terrorist and yet the damn fool had chosen here of all places to return.

When she reached Jaa Ardan, in his stupid spacer's outfit, chestnut hair longer than she'd ever seen it, and a new unruly beard threatening to take over his face, his half smile turned into a full beaming grin.

What the hell are you doing here?

Is what she opened her mouth to say, see but before she spoke a single syllable Blaire found herself lifted effortlessly from the ground, Jaa's arms around her waist.

He smelled of starship fuel and stale ciggaras

He set her down and kissed her hard. If she had been red with embarrassment before she was now downright crimson with fury.

How could he be so unbelievably selfish and idiotic?

She said nothing to him. Her hand flew through the air with a whistle producing an overly loud smack when it struck with all her might against the side of his face.

Blaire turned and stormed from the auction, her hand sore and bruised. That, she imagined was nothing compared to her reputation


Exit

| Outfit: xxx | Tag: Aurelian Veruna | Equipment: xxx |​

 

[Jaa Ardan]

​

His heart leapt when he found her, a smile crossing his face unbidden. Of course he'd found her. He always found her.

It had been no easy thing however. Sepan was a fucking disaster of the highest order. Flames and blood and bodies littered her capital. A senator dead and hundreds if not thousands of others besides. Jaa'd spent days combing med centers, hospitals, makeshift triage centers, looking for her and then days more hoping to hear any news. The ninth day had brought him that news. Three Sal-Soren women evacuated from the site of the attack, one or more in critical state.

He'd gone to Naboo then quick as he could manage. It was days more combing there for information. All three of them were alive at present, though it was no sure thing for one of them. Jaa snuck into the med facility and found it was Bastila, the youngest of them that lay abed fighting to stay alive. He sat with her for as long as he dared. The sight of her left him feeling empty. He's sworn to protect them once, he'd sworn a lot of things, and failed at most of them.

Jaa watched as Blaire, full of fire, moved through the mob of silk gloved, weak wristed nobles. He saw her target before she reached him. Prince Veruna. Jaa did not know the man personally, though he could recall a confrontation with one of the prince's school mates that had ended with fists. Jaa had gone to the naval academy not long after.
He watched as the two danced around each other the way nobles did and felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach when Blaire placed a hand on the younger man's wrist. The twist turned to fire when Veruna leaned close. That fire burned all the way to his azure eyes when Blaire returned the gesture.

His heart leapt again when he saw she noticed him. The flame in his gut died down as she excused herself from the prince but a new one fiercer than the other started in his chest as she approached him.
He'd thought her dead. Blaire. The mother of his children. The most beautiful…
She stood in front of him. How had moved so quickly?

His eyes met hers and there was no more doing for it. He did not care who saw, what they said, what would happen to him after, none of that mattered. Strong arms lifted her from the ground with ease, savoring the feel of her, that she was real and alive. He put her back on the ground and kissed her like he hadn't done since the day of remembrance.

In a flash of flesh her hand lashed out and struck him hard enough that he was sure she'd blown his eardrum.
Without so much as a chance to ask her what the hell that was all about, before even his face had a chance to turn red, she was gone.

He followed after her, unsure what else to do, whispers, some quiet and some not so quiet, and scandalized looks trailed after him.

One and done baby

 

[Xandyr Carrick]

XANDYR

Xandyr Carrick stood unobtrusively at the edge of the Calarian Estate’s verdant garden, the soft clink of crystal glasses and murmured endorsements washing over him.

The afternoon light played across his crisp attire. He wore dark, muted tones that spoke of restraint, not ostentation. Xandyr was here with Dominic Praxon . Xandyr was a formal companion, but he was here to mingle woth society and provide subtle protection.

Despite being a companion, Xandyr was an effective and lethal man of society. He was at home in high society salons, but carried the edge and scars of someone who'd lived among criminals and survived them.

He moved through the gathering with understated precision. Xandyr knew people here, but he was very good at blending into the background. He was just a quiet presence, watching Dominic

He checked his comm unit. Apparently he had a meeting to arrange.

 

[Aiden Porte]

The words left his mouth before he even thought twice about it, sharp, measured, enough to be heard without being ostentatious. Credits weren't what mattered here. Not truly. Aiden Porte had learned long ago that wealth was only ever a tool, a shifting currency that said far less about a person's worth than the choices they made with it.

His hand dropped back to his side, and he exhaled quietly. The statues were gone, Aurelian's prize to flaunt, no doubt. The chalices, yet those were his now, a small piece of the Sal-Soren legacy that he could hold on to. They were indeed a good and strong family, true that they had their flaws. What family didn't? It would be nice to be able to have a piece of their legacy, one whom would appreciate it.

The Globe was what mattered. Not for himself, not even for what it represented, peace was a word cheapened too often by politics, but as a symbol he could place in another's hands. A gift, and maybe a reminder that peace wasn't just a doctrine to be preached, but something to be nurtured, carried.

The auctioneer's gavel struck lightly, his bids marked, and still he sat, posture straight, eyes calm. Around him nobles and merchants whispered, each calculating how many credits they could lose before the sting outweighed the prestige. They were simply parts of the machinery. Yet he could not help but feel the weight of what this moment meant, another ripple in the endless tide of Republic politics, another subtle act of defiance against the creeping shadow that called itself freedom but reeked of chaos.

Perfection was never the point. He knew that. The High Republic was riddled with flaws, compromises, hypocrisies, but so too was every living thing. What mattered was that it stood. That worlds bound together by fragile threads chose to hold, even when the weave strained and frayed. That was worth his credits. That was worth his voice in the bidding hall.

Thread Exit