Populate Naboo Coronation & Gala | THR Populate of Vylmira

[Pillar of Perseverance]

The Coronation of King Aurelian Veruna II
And the Appointment of Lady Sibylla Abrantes as Voice of the Royal Houses

“A new chapter dawns over Naboo. Let tradition and the people’s will crown the future.”
​

Theed’s skyline shimmered with fireworks, each radiant burst reflected in the rippling waters of the Solleu River. Across the city, bells tolled from ancient spires while Naboo’s people filled the streets in celebration. Within the heart of Theed Palace, tradition and destiny converged.

The People of Naboo have spoken: Aurelian of House Veruna is to be crowned King Aurelian Veruna the Second, sovereign of Naboo. At his side, entrusted with the voice of nobility and people alike, Lady Sibylla of House Abrantes shall be invested as the Voice of the Royal Houses.

The Coronation Ceremony is held in Theed’s Royal Palace, followed by a Coronation Gala in the Palace’s grand halls and gardens. Nobles, Senators, Jedi envoys, Gungan Envoys and Mandalorian Empire dignitaries, and invited allies will gather to honor the King, celebrate the unity of Naboo, and mingle in both formal and casual settings.

This is a time of music, dance, diplomacy, and intrigue, as the festivities offer both spectacle and the privacy required for meaningful conversation.

The Grand Ball (Palace Ballroom)
OBJECTIVE ONE​

The Palace Ballroom glittered with regal splendor, its polished marble floors catching the glow of chandeliers strung high above. Orchestra music swelled through the hall, guiding the steps of courtiers, senators, and visiting envoys as they took to the dance floor.

Along the edges, banquet tables groaned beneath the weight of Naboo’s finest delicacies, their aromas mingling with the perfume of silks and flowers.

High above, discreet alcoves offered shadowy perches for those seeking privacy, providing balcony chambers where politics, covert plots, and promises could be discussed in hushed tones, unseen by the crowd below.

The Royal Gardens Social (Palace Gardens)
OBJECTIVE TWO​

Beyond the palace walls, the Royal Gardens unfurled in tranquil beauty. Lanterns floated above sculpted hedges and reflecting pools, casting a warm glow across marble paths and fragrant blossoms. Musicians strolled between fountains, their strings and flutes mingling with the soft rush of water.

Nobles and guests lingered with crystal glasses of Blossom and Tarul wine, the night air scented with roses and vine. Here, the formality of the ballroom gave way to laughter and easy conversation, a gentler stage where alliances could blossom as freely as the flowers themselves.

Reference Threads
The Wolves at the Door
Future Regents Dinner [THR]

Spoiler: OOC Disclaimers

OOC Disclaimers
This thread is going to be a fun one, but please keep in mind that the Coronation Event and Gala on Naboo is a social thread. Do not derail, disrupt, or otherwise throw what is intended to be a fun social story.

There is no PVP here. You are more than welcome to conduct covert plotting shenanigans that will not disrupt the social aspect, such as creating connections and allies and plotting schemes, but that's not an open door for open conflict or combat.

If you're in need of partners, feel free to LFG in the RSVP thread here.
[/spoiler}

​

 

[Pillar of Perseverance]

​

Coronation Hall
Theed City | Naboo

​

The sound of bells rolled across Theed, echoing from its spires and carried down to the waters of the Solleu. Fireworks shimmered against the twilight sky, their reflection scattering like jewels across the river. Within the Royal Palace, the vast Throne Hall stood filled to its vaulted heights, every seat occupied by Naboo’s Assembly, Gungan Envoys, nobility, ministers, and invited guests from worlds near and far.

At the foot of the dais, the herald stepped forward. Robes of crimson and gold trailed across polished marble just before he raised his staff, striking it three times against the floor.

“By the will of the People of Naboo, and with the blessing of Shiraya,” his voice rang, carrying to every corner of the hall, “Let it be proclaimed: Aurelian of House Veruna is to be crowned King Aurelian Veruna the Second, sovereign of Naboo.”

A brief pause, and then the Herald announced Naboo's new Voice.

“And by the will of the Royal Houses, let it be known: Lady Sibylla of House Abrantes shall be invested as the Voice of the Royal Houses, to speak in unity between throne and nobility.”

The hall erupted into applause. Nobles bowed their heads, Assembly delegates rose to their feet, and the sound of drums and fanfare carried the moment into history. The Minister of Culture stepped forward, bearing the royal diadem for the King, and a golden lapel fleur pin bearing the sigils of Shiraya for the Voice.

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Coronation Hall
Theed City | Naboo

Life… is a series of fragile moments strung together with diamond threads. Threads that will lead to defining moments that will forever change your life.

The words she'd heard from her grandmother as a child seemed to echo in Sibylla's mind as the Minister of Culture presented the Sovereign crown for Naboo to her.

The diadem felt cold in Sibylla's hands as she carefully plucked it from its velvet perch, finding it heavier than she had expected, as though it carried every choice that had brought her to this moment.

The coronation party stood tall beneath the colored light spilling through the Throne Hall’s stained glass windows. They towered above her, depicting Shiraya with arms outstretched over Naboo’s moonlit waters, past kings and queens etched in glass like watchful specters. Incense burned at the base of the dais, its sweet smoke curling in the air and carrying the scent of myrrh and Nabooan cedar.

Sibylla’s gown shimmered under the light, its pale gold and embroidered Karlini silk flowing in ripples under the glow of the lights. Holocams hummed softly in the upper tiers, while hovering droids captured every angle for posterity, their red ocular recording lights winking like fireflies as they hummed and zipped around. By all accounts, Sibylla appeared the part they had given her, not only Naboo’s noble daughter but now to be her Voice, every stitch of her dress echoing the quiet strength in her spine.

But inside, her thoughts raced and turned.

What if I had stayed in the candidacy?

The question didn’t burn or sear; instead it lingered as a wayward thought. All her life, she had been groomed, educated, trained, molded, and shaped for the moment she would wear the crown of Naboo on her head. So much so that the desire for duty, responsibility, honor, and expectation, threaded together with her own desires, blurring lines that only seeded doubt on whether she truly ever wanted it.

Even then, she could still picture it, herself crowned, herself seated on the throne behind her. It had been within reach. On another strand of that diamond thread, perhaps she would have chosen it.

Yet she did not regret stepping aside. Instead, pride threaded through her chest. Aurelian hadn’t won this crown alone. Together, they would wrestle Naboo from chaos, shape this night with their choices, their compromises. He would bear the crown, but she would bear the voice. Not lesser. Different. Necessary. The balance Naboo needed, a sovereign and bridge, a King and Voice.

Her hazel eyes met amber as he stepped forward, and in that instant she saw both the man he had been and the one he had become. Aurelian Veruna -- once her rival, the brash prince and relentless senator -- now stood as her ally, her confidant, and her friend.

With solemn but predatory grace, he bent the knee before her. The dark silk of his hair caught the jeweled glow of stained glass as he bowed his head, and for a breath the hall itself seemed to hold still.

Sibylla lifted the diadem with both hands as she stood before him, the hush wrapping around her in its significance, and then she lowered it, setting the crown of Naboo upon his head. She straightened then, and her clear melodic voice rang through the vaulted chamber.

“By the will of the People, and with the blessing of Shiraya, I proclaim to you Naboo’s sovereign, King Aurelian Veruna the Second.”

The hall exploded to life. Applause thundered like artillery. Brass fanfares swelled from the balconies. Outside, fireworks painted the sky, their light flooding the colored glass until Shiraya herself seemed to blaze.

All around, hovercams whirred to capture the moment as nobles and commoners alike rose to their feet, and the sound of celebration filled every vaulted corner of the hall.

Yet through the thunder of applause, Sibylla’s gaze never left Aurelian. The very corner of her mouth curved into a subtle smile, barely there, but enough for him to see. This was no loss but victory, their victory. The first step into a Naboo remade. A Naboo that would not bend, would not suffer fools, nor be left defenseless to the wolves circling its gates.

No. Naboo would rise. Naboo would prosper. And she would stand at the heart of the High Republic, bearing the mighty hand of judgment for all who dared to oppose her people.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Royal Palace, Naboo
Tags: OPEN - OBJ 1
X | X

"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."​

King Aurelian Veruna the Second knelt on the marble floor. His ceremonial robes of silk and velvet felt heavy, a mantle of history, but his muscles remained taut. Though his head was bowed, his spine never truly bent; instead, it lowered with the poise of a resting predator. The hush of the Throne Hall pressed in, thousands of eyes fixed on him, yet Aurelian's gaze never left one person: Sibylla.

Her hands lifted the crown. For a fleeting, dangerous heartbeat, Aurelian wondered if she felt the urge to keep it, to crown herself instead. He almost wished she would, just to see the fire in her eyes burn brighter than the jewels themselves. She had always been the rival who kept his blade sharp, the voice that spoke truer than his own pride. Now, she stood above him, the embodiment of grace and steel, the very image of Naboo's Voice.

The crown settled onto his head, colder than he expected, a ring of fire kissed with ice. Aurelian drew a slow, steady breath, as though inhaling the centuries of kings before him. The hall erupted in thunderous applause, but still he looked only at Sibylla, his eyes catching the faint, treacherous smile at her lips.

Victory had never tasted so sharp, nor so sweet.

"We are bound to one another in ways we cannot fathom. Our lives are not only our own."​

He rose with deliberate poise, his height casting shadow and light against her gown. The hall reverberated with fanfare, yet the silence between them thrummed louder. His hand brushed the golden lapel fleur pin, the token that would seal her role. For an instant, he let his touch linger longer than protocol required as he fastened it to her dress, his fingers grazing the silk near her collarbone. His eyes, full of subtle challenge, never left hers.

"You bear Naboo's Voice," he murmured, his tone laced with pride and something dangerously close to possession, pitched so only she could hear him. "Do not let them forget it."

Then he turned, at last, to the sea of nobles, senators, and envoys, all erupting in jubilation. His smile, wicked and regal, spread across his face like fire through dry fields. Charisma poured off him in waves, effortless as breathing. To the people, he was every inch their sovereign: brilliant, unshakable, Naboo reborn in flesh and crown.

"What we do now echoes in eternity."


​

As the hall's doors opened, the coronation gave way to the gala. Aurelian strode with a predator's elegance down the marble stairs into the ballroom. Chandeliers scattered gold across his dark hair, his steps echoing confidence. He clasped hands with Senators draped in velvet, traded words with Gungan envoys whose eyes gleamed with measured trust, and offered the Mandalorian dignitaries a smile sharp enough to draw blood. His laughter rang through the hall, warm, yet edged with the restless hunger that never slept within him.

Aurelian basked in it all: the music, the wine, the politics wrapped in silk and perfume. To the untrained eye, he was the golden sovereign, crowned by destiny itself. Yet, those who watched closely, perhaps only Sibylla among them, would see the restless flame in his gaze. He looked past the dance, past the smiles, to the game behind it all.

For tonight, Naboo celebrated. Tomorrow, he would begin to remake it.

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

The Grand Ball (Palace Ballroom)
OBJECTIVE ONE
Open for Interaction

​

The golden fleur pin felt heavier than silk at Sibylla's collarbone, catching the lantern light as she moved with a gracious smile through the crowd. To all watching, she was Naboo's Voice, radiant and composed. Still, Aurelian's words lingered.

You bear Naboo's Voice. Do not let them forget it.

There was no time to dwell on the memory. She had a new role to play, and that meant composure through every glance, every approach, every whispered exchange that might find her tonight. Pleasant as she tried to be, Sibylla had already arranged for additional security and attendants, a quiet safeguard against overly bold guests who might need a swift dismissal.

Yes, she had made preparations specifically with Thessaly Veruna in mind, and she felt no shame in it.

Already, the first guests were drifting toward the grand ball, eager to take the floor beneath glittering chandeliers or slip away to the discreet alcoves above. The orchestra's overture rose and swelled, coaxing dancers onto the marble floor.

With every handshake and every nod, Sibylla told herself to focus and plan for what was coming ahead to steady her spine, as the herald at the top of the stairs raised his voice once more.

"On this night, Naboo crowns a King. On this night, her Houses find their Voice. Let friends, allies, and honored guests of Naboo join in celebration. May music, wine, and fellowship bind us stronger than any chain of war."

He struck his staff again, bowing low before the dais.

"The Coronation Gala begins."

 

[Cassian Abrantes]

Coronation Hall
​

Cassian Abrantes had seen Naboo in many lights, dawn’s hush over the Solleu, the golden blaze of festivals, even the shadows of tragedy. But never like this. Never beneath a sky that seemed to burn for its people, never beneath a hall that thundered with joy and history at once.

From his place among the nobles, a half-step back from the dais, Cassian’s gaze held steady on Sibylla. She was radiant, yes, but more than that, resolute. The weight of expectation sat on her shoulders and she bore it as though she had been born for nothing else. The crown in her hands might have been meant for her once, but as he watched her set it upon Aurelian’s brow, he understood: she had chosen a different crown, one carved of voice and conviction.

He felt the applause ripple through the marble beneath his boots, the roar of the people echoing like surf against the walls of the Throne Hall. Yet Cassian’s focus was narrower, keener. His chest tightened with quiet pride, not just for her, but for Naboo.

Still, the sharper instincts within him, honed in senate chambers and whispered corridors, could not rest. For every cheer, there would be whispers in back rooms. For every fanfare, knives being sharpened in shadow. He caught sight of dignitaries exchanging looks, envoys whose applause lacked warmth, nobles already calculating where their advantage now lay. The King had been crowned, the Voice invested, and that meant the game began anew.

He allowed himself one breath of stillness, one glance at Sibylla framed in starlit silk and colored glass. Then, with the faintest incline of his head, as if she might feel it from where he stood in the chamber, he promised himself, and her, that he would stand as shield and sentinel, as brother and ally, no matter how dark the currents grew. And as he glanced towards Aurelian, he himself closed his eyes and gave a small bow of his head. Truthfully, not to mock, but to congratulate and show acceptance. Cassian did cast his vote for him after all, and just like the events that followed that. That decision he would live with the rest of his life, if it came back stab him in the back.

Cassian’s jaw set, his amber eyes scanning the hall like a soldier on watch, even in finery. Let the holocams capture the pageantry; his thoughts were already with what came after. He would celebrate, yes, but he would not be lulled. Naboo was stronger tonight, but strength always drew predators.

The bells tolled again above Theed, and Cassian’s eyes burned with a steady, unyielding light. This was only the beginning.

OBJ 1
Ballroom
Tags: Open
​

The ballroom was a storm of light and music, chandeliers dripping brilliance over polished marble while gowns swept and boots clicked in time to the orchestra’s swell. Cassian lingered near the edge, amber gaze measured, watching the ebb and flow of nobles and envoys like a general observing troops on a field.

Then Elian arrived, or rather, announced himself, as always. He slipped through the crowd like he owned it, cloak trailing, smile wide enough to rival the fireworks still painting Theed’s sky. Within minutes, he had two young senators laughing at some scandalous tale, a pair of duchesses leaning in a touch too close, and a servant blushing as he complimented the artistry of a wine pour.

When he finally made his way to Cassian, he carried a glass in each hand, one of them clearly meant for his brother. “Ah, Cassian, there you are! Brooding in the corner like a tragic hero out of some old Nabooian ballad. Drink. If tonight isn’t cause for it, nothing is.”

Cassian accepted the glass with a faint arch of his brow. “I was observing.”

“You were sulking,” Elian corrected cheerfully, clinking his own glass against Cassian’s. “And why sulk? Our dear Sibylla just became the Voice of Naboo. Do you realize what that means? It means every time someone wants to complain about taxes or trade disputes, they’ll have to come crawling to our sister. House Abrantes, Cassian! The name will be on every tongue from Theed to the Mid Rim.”

Cassian took a slow sip, choosing his words with care. “It means she has placed herself at the very heart of Naboo’s politics. A position of strength, but also of risk. Not every tongue speaks kindly.”

Elian waved the thought away with a flick of his wrist. “Oh, let them whisper. Sibylla can turn whispers into weapons better than any of us. Did you see her tonight? Regal, poised, not a single hair out of place, she had the entire hall eating out of her hand. Even Aurelian looked humbled.” He grinned wickedly. “And that is no small feat.”

Despite himself, Cassian allowed the corner of his mouth to tilt. “She was… remarkable.”

“Of course she was,” Elian said, eyes glittering with both pride and mischief. “She’s an Abrantes. We’re remarkable by birthright. You with your stoic knight routine, me with my irresistible charm, and Sibylla with her voice that could silence an army. Really, we’re a complete set.”

Cassian shook his head, though there was warmth behind the gesture. “One day, your antics will land you in more trouble than even Sibylla can talk you out of.”

“And when that day comes,” Elian replied, raising his glass high, “you’ll brood, she’ll scold, and I’ll charm my way out of it. That’s balance, brother. That’s family.”

They touched glasses again, and for a moment, the noise of the gala faded, leaving only two brothers, one steady as stone, the other bright as fire, bound together by pride in the sister who had just changed the course of Naboo.

 

[Aiden Porte]

The crown lowered onto King Aurelian's brow, and the chamber seemed to exhale with the weight of history. The Throne Room was filled with thunderous applause and the echo of bells carried in from the city beyond, yet Aiden's focus lingered elsewhere.

He studied the moment as only a Jedi could: detached yet deeply aware. Aurelian Veruna II, sovereign of Naboo, sat where generations had risen and fallen. Power was both gift and burden, and in the young king's posture Aiden saw the fragile balance between the two. His gaze drifted then to Lady Sibylla Abrantes as she accepted her investiture as Voice of the Royal Houses. Her composure was flawless, but he knew the role she carried was no less heavy. The Voice would speak not only for nobility but for the currents of ambition that flowed unseen.

It struck him, as the ceremonial words faded, how fragile this unity was, woven of silk, tradition, and hope, but fragile still. For all the light and celebration, shadows always sought to intrude. The Force whispered as much, subtle currents tugging at his senses, reminding him that the galaxy beyond Naboo's rivers and hills was restless still.

OBJ 2
Royal Gardens
Tags: Open​

When at last he stepped beyond the marble halls into the Royal Gardens, the air shifted. Lanterns glowed like starlight suspended among roses, casting soft reflections in the pools. The fragrance of blossoms mingled with the crisp sweetness of Naboo's night. Music drifted gently here, unbound from ceremony, as though even the strings of instruments sighed in relief.

Aiden paused beneath an arch of flowering vines, letting the hush of the gardens settle over him. His eyes traced the silhouettes of nobles in conversation, laughter spilling like wine from crystal glasses. Children darted near the fountains, their joy untroubled by the weight of politics. It was… beautiful, undeniably so.

For a moment, he let himself simply be, no duty, no lightsaber at his side, no titles or expectations. Just a man, breathing in the peace of his world. Yet beneath it all, the Jedi in him listened still. He felt the warmth of hope in the people gathered here, but also the tremors of uncertainty at the edges. Aurelian's reign had begun, Sibylla's voice would soon echo through noble halls, and somewhere beyond these lantern-lit gardens, the galaxy turned ever closer toward storm.

Aiden closed his eyes, centered himself in the Force, and exhaled. Tonight was for Naboo's joy. Tomorrow would bring whatever it must.

 

[Kira Veylan]

//: Sibylla Abrantes //:

Dress​

The coronation was altogether, in her not so professional opinion, an overly fluffed up event.

Similar in some ways to a corporate change of executives. Different in the lavish arrangement of details and abundant crowd present to witness the change. But no less an excuse to show off the budget with which the party had available to them.

Though this gathering could have done with more donuts at least.

Synthflesh added and an appropriately advised dress worn, Kira made her way through the crowd to the one that would guarantee the best chance of a required meeting.

Augmented eyes not active as she extended a metallic hand to catch Sibylla's attention before the woman could stray further.

"I have a request, if you would." Her face set in her best polite company smile.

 

[Dominic Praxon]

Dominic had already sent his private congratulations that morning, one to the new King, another to the freshly named Voice. Both were written with precision, restrained enough not to betray his own doubts. He had no appetite for rehearsed congratulations repeated in front of cameras. His words had been sent, his role fulfilled.

The ballroom was a mess of sound and spectacle. Golden chandeliers spilled light across shimmering gowns and polished boots, the music swelling as if to drown out thought. Dominic did not linger. Applause and laughter rang too loudly in his ears, each cheer a reminder that his poll numbers had remained stubbornly still. Too many evenings of effort, too many careful speeches, and yet the tide refused to rise. He knew what it meant. He was going to lose. The thought soured everything, even the wine in his glass.

He slipped away with measured pace, polite nods offered as he passed but no words spared. Out through the marble archways, into the gardens where the air was cooler, freer. Lanterns floated above the hedges, casting a gentler light than the chandeliers behind him. The murmur of fountains filled the spaces where orchestra had roared.

Dominic walked slowly, hands clasped behind his back. Here, away from the gaze of holocams, he could let the weight of frustration sit openly in his posture. The night belonged to Aurelian and Sibylla. His own path seemed to narrow with every step.

Still, he paced the lantern-lit paths as though some answer might be waiting at the end of them, something the numbers had not yet revealed.

@OPEN​

 

[Thessaly Veruna]

Elegance was no effort for Thessaly Veruna. It was nothing special to be wearing a gown such is that which flowed gracefully from her statuesque form. She moved through the upper floors of Veruna Estate with a practiced ease. She would be ready soon.

She understood the import of the day. Her little brother, King of Naboo. Her eyes felt as though they were in a persistent state of rolling. And in league with an Abrantes dog. Aurelian made an art of disappointing, one he had perfected in her absence from Naboo.

"Lady Damaris," came the overly polite voice of the Estate's protocol droid.

She turned, hair falling across her shoulder, providing accidental modesty. Her angled eyebrow rose, but she uttered no reply.

"Lady...Veruna, apologies, you are going to be late for the coronation."

She smiled softly, eyes glistening with a mischief known only to her. "Thank you. See to it that the speeder is prepared."

"I already took the liberty of ensuring transportation was arranged."

Her brow quirked, again. But she was otherwise still, as a shape made real by chisel alone. "Thank you," she said, but showed no signs of hurry.

"My Lady you simply must..."

"I shall not repeat myself." She spoke in a manner that would accept not reply. The droid hesitated for a moment. Even as it turned to go, it looked back over its shoulder as if to speak—it did not.

She looked out the window, over the rocky crags that made up Parrlay's shoreline. It was a harsh environment. One that bred people of a particular sharpness. Remus Veruna was one such Parrlay-bred noble, Saphira had absorbed it as she aged in their marriage. Thessaly had been forged by them, and the rugged texture of House Veruna.

Aurelian though. Aurelian was soft. Weak. A child playing at aristocracy. One so insipid would spell the doom of all Naboo. Thessaly could not in her heart of hearts condone, nor celebrate his ascension.

She felt a stirring in the room behind her. Only her eyes moved to catch the sight of one of her aides from her late husband's house on Eliad. "Lady Veruna," he said, her maiden name sounding foreign on his tongue, "the representative for Farstine Shipping as arrived for your meeting."

"See them in."

The aide disappeared, a moment later a well-groomed Umbaran woman walked into the room. "Lady Veruna. Greetings. Please forgive my boldness, but is your brother not being crowned king today?"

Thessaly turned now, the light of the window streaming in, giving an ill-deserved ethereal wonder to her presence. "Why yes...but I shan't be attending. Now...let us talk logistics..."

EXIT​

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━​

Adonis had never been to Naboo. He'd heard the stories, and the High Republic mentions, but the first impression punched past rumor- beautiful, almost painfully so. Different from the rolling savannas of Vaal, yet with a hint of Mandalore's quiet grandeur in the way stone and water held their ground together. Shore leave, if only for a day. With luck, this coronation would end bloodshed-free.

He wasn't even here to guard Aether or Runi. He was here as a guest. Naboo had opened their doors to any well-meaning vod who'd come raise a glass to their King. Adonis knew jack about Naboo's court politics, but the exposure would do him good when the time came to make his play on Vaal.

He'd left the full supercommando beskar'gam on the rack. No shoulder-mounted micro-cannon to celebrate a crowning. Tonight's kit was refined, trimmed of weight, but still more than enough to keep him alive. Breathable, too, he couldn't remember the last time he'd gone a whole night without chafing. Maybe the Nite Owls were onto something with lighter plates. Still felt wrong not knowing he could pulp a skull with a crushgaunt if he had to.

Not tonight, he reminded himself, drifting deeper into the gardens. Lanterns floated over hedges and still pools, casting soft halos against the white stone. Strings and flutes lined the paths. He was here to meet people, make connections, and remember what decent food tasted like. A pang of guilt tugged as he pictured the spread waiting inside, MREs and quick meals had a way of rewiring a man's sense of normal. The Mandalorian Empire's war with the Diarchy, the Republic's front with the Sith and Imperials, both walls were groaning. Even trench rats deserve a day off.

He'd made sure to slip a note to Athena Faar about the coronation. Nothing formal, just a line that said where he'd be, with the unspoken hope she'd show. He didn't need an escort, but it was easier to wade through politics with someone who could throw a spear and a joke in equal measure. She had a way of grounding him without trying, like they could share a look across a room and know what the other was thinking. If anyone could make a stiff royal gala feel like a hunt worth remembering, it was her.

He traveled further still, a few Naboo eyes followed him as he did, some wary, some merely curious. He could live with that, he had an invitation. He stepped aside to give a passing couple room and clipped shoulders with a man who looked both a million miles away and two doors down the hall. No use feeding the stereotype of the grumpy Mandalorian. Adonis checked his momentum and offered an apology.

"Sorry, didn't see you." He reached out, not the crushing forearm clasp of the clan greeting, just a normal handshake. "Name's Adonis." His helm tilted, visor finding the other man's gaze. "You looked deep in thought."

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TAG: Dominic Praxon​

 

[Ra'a'mah]

After meeting with her friend, Ra had received an invitation to the coronation of the King. It wasn't addressed to her personally but to anybody who could attend. So she called Vulps back and invited him to join her. It was formal, obviously, so Ra had some shopping to do and picked out a new dress to wear. The last time she and Vulps had attended a celebration, things had gone south, but it hadn't been their fault. Once again, she didn't expect problems, but knowing her luck, they would find them. This didn't happen right after their meeting, so he would have time to find something as well and still have extra time.

He came to her home, and they left together. No sense in arriving separately. As he had pointed out, they needed to start networking, and this was a perfect opportunity to do precisely that. She saw this as a way to gain traction for their movement and maybe gain some support. At least, they would have a few drinks, maybe a dance, and enjoy an evening together—hopefully, a tranquil one.

"Did you know I don't actually know anybody that's going to be here except you?"

Leaning against the door of the speeder they were in, she looked at her companion and smiled a little.

"We really have been through a lot. And there's just going to be more to face together. A coronation will be simple."

She sat up as they arrived, and Vincent brought the speeder to a stop. An attendant opened her door and helped her out. Giving him thanks, she took hold of Vulps' arm so they could walk in together.

Vulpesen @open

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Outfit (sans crown)​

Why, of course, Dominique Vexx, Executive Director and Senator of Denon would be at the coronation. Not because she was beside herself pleased with current events, but because attendance was mandatory. Not that her interest in Sibylla and Aurelian had diminished, but being a part of the crowd left to learn things along side everyone else; and those things were not the ambitious end that Dominique had expected, well, she wasn't entirely elated unlike the crowd and their tumultuous uproar.

Aurelian as King. It did make sense from a strictly brutalist point of view and understanding he could do whatever it took to see his vision enacted. Sibylla, however, had the glimmer to her eye and meteoric rise that Dominique would have enjoyed seeing crowned Queen. Would that have been worse for Naboo they could never know. Point was, Dominique hardly saw it as a risk and had closer ties to the Lady of Abrantes than the Master of Veruna. Not that the man wasn't amenable or interested in his prospective business partner.

After the ritual corronation came the festivities, of course. Dominique watched the two swarmed by the masses eager to pledge their loyalty or stake their claim -- however they wished to see their groveling. Well, they should be gravitational forces. It was their day, after all, even if it hadn't turned out the way Dominique had expected at the start.

Meanwhile, she had matters to attend to for the moment.

"Senator Jhien."

"Ambassador Stollar."

"Taim Baldross," Dominique lit up with a brilliant smile.

One conversation at a time the Denonite had manuevered her way through the crowd. Her time was filled with small talk of the grandness of the corronation, the future of Naboo, current events in the galaxy... And then there were otherwise trivial questions thrown in throughout. No names. No accusations. Just open ended questions about a certain planet, a certain system, a certain regal dining occassion. Small mentions of having heard something and curious if others had heard the same. Sometimes of things she knew happen. Other times of things that hadn't happened at all, but she wanted to get a name on peoples' lips.

Sibylla and Aurelian could celebrate, but Dominique didn't have the luxury. Her own machinations required tending, and some of those did require learning the truth of what occurred surrounding the newly enthroned duo.

When not pursuing conspiracies and movements in the shadows, however, the Director encouraged people to reach out to any number of companies based on Denon. Just because they were a galactic powerhouse didn't mean you stopped marketing yourself -- or yourselves, as they case happened to be, seeing how the planet was home to countless industries. That was what people expected of a Director of the Corporate Sector, after all, and one must maintain appearances. To say nothing of the revenue streams.

Dominique laughed. "Why thank you, Eminence Paldoon. I hear your world's latest find has bolstered its resources." Compliments about her dress were not short in coming. Given the occassion something a little more 'royal' had seemed appropriate, but it had to have a Denon-flare to it. Eye catching? Oh, was it?

After a time, her progress drew her back in closer to where Sibylla Abrantes then stood. Dominique discretely checked to see who was in the Voice's orbit from in front of her current social companion. There were countless eyes on her today and that wasn't going to change until the night was through. Still, a little congraulatory mingling was in order. Even if it wasn't Queen, she'd still secured a lofty place of influence.

Sibylla Abrantes | Kira Veylan | OPEN​

 

[Liana Organa]

- Open to interaction -​

Liana's attendance at the coronation wasn't exactly mandatory, and indeed if it were as simple as that, she probably would have gladly been off somewhere else. But her new title came with expectations of her. It would hardly look good if the new junior diplomat to the High Republic skipped out on an occasion as momentous as the crowning of the new King of Naboo. Besides, the entire reason she was here was to be involved, to get out of her comfort zone. There was no more cloistering herself away for the sake of privacy. Her days as a little kid on Alderaan without responsibility were over. Fancy galas with the local glitterati weren't her style, but she was going to be here anyway.

It wasn't all so bad. There was something invigorating about realizing one was becoming a first-person witness to a historical moment. When the crown was placed on Veruna's head, and Sybilla made her official proclamation as the Voice, the austerity of the hall was suddenly replaced by lofty celebration. People began to move and socialize with explicit intent, like the evening's interactions had already been planned out hours ahead. It wasn't all-new to Liana; Alderaan had a utopian reputation, but its politicians had their fair share of scheming and backroom maneuvering. In many ways the two worlds had a lot in common. And because of that, she was likely to face the same problems here as she did on home. Only this time, without Mom and Dad to shield her…

Liana was adorned in a simple high-necked black dress, and a chalcedony pendant which marked her as a member of House Organa. She looked rather out of place amidst the crowd: her fashion was nice, but hardly regnal. She was an obvious hybrid, on a world where the majority were or passed for human. And, lest anyone let her forget, Liana was still only a teenager. Many of the political nuances which these people discussing casually were still beyond a girl her age, as were many of the drinks they passed around.

So Liana kept to herself for a while. Watching the dancers, speculating about the hushed chatter in the corners of the room, and really wishing she could sneak a glass of Naboo wine.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Dress: XX
Tags: Makko Vyres Aurelian Veruna Sibylla Abrantes

"I'm glad the election swung in his favor," Cora murmured low, her words carrying between only she and her husband. "I was a little worried."

Little had been an understatement. Though she wasn't quite certain how she felt about Aurelian Veruna and his sparkling personality, Cora had thrown Ukatis' proverbial lot in with him. On election night, she'd refreshed the holonet page tracking votes until Makko physically remove the datapad from her, turned off the holocast, and bid her to try and sleep.

Bastila, the firecracker that she was, had certainly given the Prince a run for his money during his dinner. That made her good in the Ukatian's book, but it was Aurelian with whom she'd hashed out the details of Ukatis' admission to the High Republic.

"We should go and congratulate them," she whispered to Makko.

Tonight, she was feeling well enough to move without the assistance of a hoverchair. Her hold on Makko's arm provided enough support for her slow, steady gait as they approached the King and his Voice.

"King Veruna, Lady Abrantes," she greeted smoothly before the latter's attention could be pulled elsewhere. Cora dipped her head to them both, not as deeply as Ukatian customs would dictate, though whether or not that was due to her injury or something else remained to be seen. "Ukatis congratulates you on your victory."

When she straightened, her gaze found that of the newly crowned Veruna. Something in her tone firmed behind her well wishes; it wasn't anger or resentment, but perhaps a grim understanding of the responsibilities that now befell the young king.

"May the High Republic's strength continue to flourish. I look forward to what the partnership between Naboo and Ukatis will produce."

The heavy undertones slipped away, replaced with something more genial as she squeezed Makko's arm. The gesture had the iridescent capelet of her dress catching the light as it shifted. "And allow me to introduce my husband - Jedi Knight Makko Vyres."

 

[Athena Faar]

Outfit
Objective II

She had indeed received the note sent by Adonis. The message was typical for the hardened warrior, short, succinct, yet worded to suggest more than just a status on his whereabouts. Between the lines, whether truly there or not, the Korun read an invitation to join the knight at the Naboo coronation.

Aside from the experience of visiting Naboo on such a grand occasion, there was the chance to enjoy Adonis' company away from war, training and their duties. Athena immediately made arrangements to be designated a representative by Aether Verd . The Mand'alor was a smart man, and could just as easily read Athena's intentions. The dragon rider and the bulwark knight had been seen together more and more, both on the battlefield and off.

She had replied with a casual affirmative. Let her arrival be a surprise.

However, attending a coronation was a bit more formal than the warrior was accustomed to. Her new but already well worn armor was not gala-friendly. She had another idea.

With some help, Athena created a special outfit for the coronation, using beskar left over from the modification of her beskar'gam, as well as some armor weave and supple but durable fabric. An ornate vibrodagger hung sheathed at her side. It could have been considered scandalous, as much for its departure from typical Mandalorian armor than for lack of modesty. She believed Aether approved of her choice, though Athena was more concerned about whether or not Adonis liked it.

She had spotted him at the coronation, but unable to join him due to the excited crowd. Adonis' brilliant, ivory star-emblazoned beskar'gam was a much more fitting appearance than the heavy battle-armor he was known for. But the heir of House Angelis was of noble birth, after all, a knight, and he looked the part. Athena chucked to herself. How would he look next to her, a former Auretii soldier, clanless, who's best friend (other than him), was a dragon. But then, she didn't give a flying feth about what others would think, and Athena knew Adonis didn't either.

As the patrons separated, mingled and the celebration ensued, Athena drifted. She had thought to greet Sibylla Abrantes , whom she had met several times as the official ambassador to the Mandalorian Empire. But the young woman, so lovely and regal herself, was eagerly sought by others wishing audience with the Voice.

Emerald eyes caught a glimpse of Adonis heading towards the entrance to the gardens, she scooped up a glass of wine from a passing server and began to make her way there as well, looking forward to the open air.


Tag: Adonis Angelis IV OPEN

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[Andrei Vorn]

Objective - Mingle

Outfit
​

The coronation was both a memorial to times past, and promise of times yet to come.

Peace, unification, a shared common goal. All honorable things to aspire for in the growing influence of the High Republic. But without the right mind behind the helm, the show was little more than a piece of propaganda to make everyone feel content.

His clapping for the end of the ceremony was thunderous. His joyous laugh drowing out some of the crowds clapping.

His towering presence among the crowd, no less in his desired attire, further isolating his silhouette among the nobles that had gathered. His superiors would no doubt have a word about how he presented himself for the evening. His rebuttal already prepared given his parade attire had not yet been altered properly. And bearing a ripped seam among the nobility would no doubt draw gossip towards a system already in the midst of restructuring.

The crowd began to move as they desired. Some heading to congratulate with others moving to entertain themselves with the pending dance.

His own gaze drifting across the myriad of heads adorned in different fashions until an isolated figure presented itself. Watching briefly before moving through the crowd like a shark among a school of fish. A wide berth forming just ahead of him as bodies moved out of their own fears of being potentially bowled over by the large figure moving past them.

Until he arrived and arms length away from the lone figure eyeing the party from a safe distance.

His hand covering his heart in a polite bow before speaking to the young lady. “Well met, I am Commodore Andrei Vorn of the High Republic's Defense Fleet. If you wouldn't mind, who might I have the pleasure of greeting this evening?”

Despite his size, his smile was warm and welcoming.

Liana Organa​

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

The Grand Ball (Palace Ballroom)
OBJECTIVE ONE​

Outfit

"I was a little worried."

"I noticed," Makko whispered back before smiling.

Makko inclined his head as Cora spoke, his arm steady beneath hers. He wasn’t much for ceremony, but even he could feel the weight in the air. This was important for Cora and Ukatis.

“Your Majesty. Lady Sibylla,” he greeted, his tone polite but measured. He didn’t bow as deeply as the nobles around them, though he gave enough to show respect.

He didn't pretend he was from their world, but he had learned to live here. His outfit was deliberately made to blend in against Cora's, look smart and also remind everyone that he was a Jedi Knight.

"Congratulations. A pleasure to meet you both."

He slightly squeezed Cora's hand. Just as he offered her the support to leave the hoverchair behind, he needed her support when he felt overwhelmed in such high profile events. Not that he would admit as much out loud.

 

[Runa Trozky]

The Royal Gardens Social (Palace Gardens)
OBJECTIVE TWO
​

It had all been more than regal. . .

The ballroom? Opulent in its celebrations. Nobles, politicians, and other luminaries filled the hall with joyous conversation, laughter, and dance.

All to celebrate the crowning of a new king.

A part of her was thankful that she had even been able to make it, having been unfortunately occupied during the regent’s dinner. A seat had been reserved, and at the last minute circumstances had changed dramatically.

So, she had taken the time to send the gifts that were meant for the king during the dinner out to him that morning, which should arrive the next by mail.

What were they? Two beautiful paintings and a letter, sealed with red wax and her family crest impressed upon the seal itself. And what of the letter?

The words within offered more than formality: congratulations, admiration, and the hope that the new king might take pleasure in the art sent his way.

After the crowning, which she witnessed in the throne room, Sibylla had also been entrusted with her role as The Voice. Soon, the palace ballroom felt too crowded, and she began to make her way toward the gardens.

With elegant swiftness, a crystal glass of Blossom Wine was lifted from a passing tray, not a movement wasted, not a step slowed.

Once outside and down the steps, the night air greeted her; comfortable, familiar, touched with music from unseen strings. The garden stretched quiet, paths alive with lantern light and the drifting smooth scent of the garden’s flowers.

And then an unexpected, yet perhaps expected, sight. Aiden stood beneath an archway elegantly decorated with vines and Queen’s Heart flowers.

She walked up to him. “Aiden...I didn’t know if I would find you here...”

Outfit: xxx | Tag: Aiden Porte - @OPEN | Equipment: No weapons
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[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Royal Palace, Naboo
Tags: Corazona von Ascania | Makko Vyres | Sibylla Abrantes | Open
X | X

King Aurelian Veruna the Second stood tall on the dais, his crown gleaming in the golden light of the chandeliers. The silks and velvet of his robes had begun to feel more like chains than finery, yet his posture showed no fatigue. His shoulders were squared, his stance commanding, every inch of him the sovereign his people demanded to see. His smile, dangerous and fleeting, flickered like a blade. It could be charming, or cutting, depending on his will.

His restless energy thrummed beneath the surface. The coronation had been intoxicating theater, but fleeting. Now came the drudgery: an endless parade of guests. They offered titles, pleasantries, gifts, and empty words, all of which Aurelian returned with practiced courtesy and a mouth trained for gratitude. Yet, his amber eyes often flickered with mischief when he thought himself unobserved. Sibylla, by his side, was his saving grace. Whenever a conversation lingered too long or boredom set in, he'd find a way to redirect the guest to her, allowing Naboo's Voice to handle what its King simply couldn't tolerate.

Then, a shift. Lady Corazona of Ukatis approached, arm-in-arm with her Jedi husband. Aurelian's smile sharpened, becoming genuine, almost relieved. He bowed his head respectfully, just enough to acknowledge her without diminishing his own regal stature.

"Lady Corazona," he greeted warmly, his voice smooth, laced with charisma. "Your presence here honors Naboo. And," his gaze slid to Makko with interest, "your husband at last. It is a pleasure to meet you, Jedi Vyres."

He clasped Makko's forearm in a respectful, firm grip, the strength of his handshake undimmed by his crown. He'd hoped to discreetly guide them towards Sibylla for the usual pleasantries, but before he could, the pair of Denonites swept her away, drawing the Voice of the Houses into a different direction. Aurelian's eyes followed for a moment, irritation flickering across his face before he smoothed it away. He turned back to the Ukatians with a smile holding both humor and resolve.

"Yes," he said with a chuckle, voice low but edged with conviction. "A small victory tonight. But it is here the true work begins. Crowns and titles mean little without action. That includes the seamless transition of Ukatis into the Republic. That is a project I intend to see succeed, without delay or misstep."

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing with curiosity as they fixed on Makko. "Tell me, Jedi. Where are you from? Hopefully not one of those Core Worlds sacked by the Empire, hmm?"

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