Matatomi

Matatomi eyes the scattergun for a moment. "I'm still trying to figure out where here is, really. Sir." He nods at the older man.

Matatomi glances at Ciilah, and chuckles for the first time tonight. "Well, it's been... interesting. I can't say I've been dragged out of my quarters for something like this before, but if it's with you, I think I can get used to it."

Matatomi reddens but smiles. "Well, you really are just a person. We all are. We judge each other based on status, but take away the titles, and what are we?"

Smiles at her. "You bet it does." Pulls back, his face reddens again. "So um... I really like you as well, but, I feel like i have to ask, why me?"

Matatomi raises his eyebrows. "Well, that I did not expect." His expression softens. "General Terress... Well, I hope he approves of me, then. If he doesn't though..."

Matatomi frowns, then smiles again, reach across the table with his hand open for her to take. "I judge people based on what I see, not based on their past. I see it, and I change my thinking based on what I see. And so far as what I see, I like it. You are beautiful, kind and funny, and that tells me who you are."

Matatomi peeks out from behind his menu. "Yes, Ciilah?" He's managed to not be so red, but as soon as he sees her it starts creeping up on him again.

Matatomi tries not to stare at Ciilah and picks up the menu to hide his reddening cheeks. "Ah yes, a bantha burger sounds excellent right now." His stomach growls, indication of his need for food.

Matatomi raises his eyebrows, obviously not expecting that answer. "Well, not quite what I was asking, but okay then. Explains how you know the bartender, at least." Picks up the menu again. "So, what do you recommend to eat here? I don't think I've eaten since lunch."

Matatomi waves his hand. "Oh, no, not a problem." He looks around awkwardly. "Based on how everyone seems to recognize you, that you come here quite often?" he asks nervously, trying to make conversation.

Matatomi watches as she storms off after her kiss on his cheek, his hand instinctively moving up to it as she shouts at the old man behind the bar. "Definitely an... interesting young lady," he mutters, still not quite certain what to make of her in this.

Matatomi stands up and holds out his hand to shake. "Pleased to meet you. Er... how do you know Cillah?"

Matatomi let himself get dragged to a table and takes the menu. Looking at it, he then looks at her. "You really like to keep moving, don't you?" He finally gets a chance to relax, though still noticing the eyes on them. He looks over at her again it hits him what the guy said. She was absolutely gorgeous, from her hair, to how she acted. He sat there, staring at her himself, his brain finally beginning to comprehend what was going on.

Matatomi stood there, not quite sure what to do, when the man ran into him and asked him the question. "I uh... suppose so. Is she rather popular, here?" He seems genuinely confuse, and rather pale from the sudden amount of attention him and Ciilah seem to be getting.

Matatomi looks at the drink for a moment, takes a small sip, then a larger gulp, with a slight burning sensation as it went down, but not so bad that it would make him cough. "Well, that wasn't so bad," he mutters, looking at the drink curiously.

Matatomi had clambered out of the speeder, a little unsteady. He's used to going that fast, but usually on a speederbike, and he was the one in control. He walks up with Ciilah as she talks to the man at the front, and at the mention of dance he goes slightly pale right before Ciilah grabs him and takes him into the cantina.

Moreolda takes her drink and relaxes back into the couch, though still rather stiff. "Thank you, Kevadius," she nods at him.

Matatomi reddens at her compliment. "Oh, uh... thank you. Um, so do you. Beautiful, I mean." He continues to redden with each word, his hands moving through his hair nervously, shifting between each foot. "So, where are we going?"

Matatomi goes through and finds a soft dark blue shirt, button-up. He looks at it critically, then decides to go with that. After putting it on and tucking the shirt in, he goes over to the mirror, checking his look up and down. "I hope this is good enough," he mutters, before opening the door and stepping back out into the main room. "No, definitely not," he says as he gets another look at Ciilah in her dress, turning red as his heart starts pounding a little bit. He's been in many battles, but none of them made him this nervous.

Moreolda observes the young woman from her seat on the couch, before closing her eyes and sighing. "That we can both agree on," she says curtly.

Matatomi goes to the bedroom. "Of course. I'm not going to have you wait outside my door for five minutes while I find a decent shirt." He closes his bedroom door while he goes through his shirts. "This might take a bit, I don't normally go out unless I'm going into the field." he yells from behind the closed door.

Matatomi seems to think about it, looks back at the datapad sitting on his desk, then looks back at Ciilah."Between this and that pad filled with reports, I'll take the night. Give me a moment while I try to find an appropriate shirt to wear." He steps back from the door, gesturing inside.

Matatomi looks up from his pad at the knock on the door, then reddens when he hears Cilah's voice. Gets up, straightening his shirt before going to the door. Opening it up, he sees her in a dress. He's wearing slacks and a simple shirt. "A... night out? Like the one before?" He reddens again as he remembers his drunk self falling asleep at the bar back on Nar Shaddaa. He then notices her dress, and reddens further.

Moreolda returned the smile and stepped over the threshold. "Thank you for inviting me. I haven't been in Coruscant since the war with the Eternal Empire," she bows her head slightly to the man. She is wearing brown tank top with matching leather pants, her midriff showing, and two lightsabers hanging from her belt, the silvery metal glistening in the light. She walks over to the couch and sits down, crossing her legs and relaxing back.

Moreolda walks briskly out of the spaceport, having just come in from Tatooine. It may have been a long time since she was last here, but it all looks pretty much the same: confusing. After asking for directions multiple times, confusing the taxi droids three times, and almost crying in frustration, she arrived at the penthouse. "So this is the place? Not bad for a smuggler." she mutters, looking up at the place, with it's windows reflecting the evening sun. She sighs as she presses the bell to signal her arrival.