Y'know, now that he was really thinking about it, Hannibal hadn't thought this through. Not the date itself, obviously he'd planned ahead for that. Just the rest of it. He'd had spur of the moment dates before, he was a flirt. He flirted, stuff happened sometimes. It was thing. But he hadn't been really doing that recently, this was different for some reason, he'd put probably too much effort into everything, Indy was a Jedi like himself, and hey was he nervous? This isn't normal.
At some point the young man had to settle on he was nervous. The hell is up with that? He could stay icy in the middle of a warzone, what was it about dinner that was keeping him on edge? It was just dinner. With Indy. A woman he'd really only met a few times, if he was being completely honest. Really this whole thing was entirely his own fault considering the forwardness on Ajan Kloss. And also always, all the time, constantly, forever. Except for recently, he hadn't really been doing that. Wait, was he repeating himself? Stop that.
Maybe it was because he'd never invited someone to his home city, on his home planet, just for dinner? Why did he do that, anyway? To impress her? That was a lot of effort for just impressing someone. Maybe he was overthinking it? Hannibal shook his head, trying to clear it of his chaotic and wayward thoughts. He still had more to do before Indy showed up. Assuming she sho- STOP that.
A sharp knife sliced cleanly and rapidly through a series of vegetables on a sterilized cutting board. He was inside the cooking area of his new ship, a yacht he'd repurposed from a Hutt with Max's help. It was certainly a major upgrade from the Catspaw, considering it was about as old as that model could be and half its systems were modified or replaced to keep it flying. The yacht had been cleaned up, redecorated, and restocked afterwards, and Hannibal's things had been moved over from the old ship. It didn't quite feel like home just yet but it was certainly on its way. More importantly at the moment, it was the start of the date.
Hans had sent Indy a time as well as a landing pad designation and location so she could land her own ship nearby and Hannibal could pick her up to walk the short distance over. He'd also double-checked the date was happening at all, for some reason. It was probably just polite. Totally. He scooped the vegetables into a bowl, mixed them with others, and moved it to a small dining table in the more open area that also featured a bar. He should probably get going.
Hans removed his apron - featuring a "Please do nothing to the cook" slogan printed across the front - and double checked his appearance in a mirror. For once he was wearing his father would approve of, a tunic cut in the naboo fashion, though he'd opted to avoid the cape. Definitely no shoulder cape. He'd just end up taking it off anyway. Right, let's go. Just dinner.
He stepped down the ramp of his ship, the door closing behind him with his astromech at the controls, and left the landing area to head to the central departure area for the spaceport to wait for Indy. It shouldn't be too long now and he didn't want to be late. He was pretty sure he'd literally die if he managed to be late to a date he'd asked someone else to.
At some point the young man had to settle on he was nervous. The hell is up with that? He could stay icy in the middle of a warzone, what was it about dinner that was keeping him on edge? It was just dinner. With Indy. A woman he'd really only met a few times, if he was being completely honest. Really this whole thing was entirely his own fault considering the forwardness on Ajan Kloss. And also always, all the time, constantly, forever. Except for recently, he hadn't really been doing that. Wait, was he repeating himself? Stop that.
Maybe it was because he'd never invited someone to his home city, on his home planet, just for dinner? Why did he do that, anyway? To impress her? That was a lot of effort for just impressing someone. Maybe he was overthinking it? Hannibal shook his head, trying to clear it of his chaotic and wayward thoughts. He still had more to do before Indy showed up. Assuming she sho- STOP that.
A sharp knife sliced cleanly and rapidly through a series of vegetables on a sterilized cutting board. He was inside the cooking area of his new ship, a yacht he'd repurposed from a Hutt with Max's help. It was certainly a major upgrade from the Catspaw, considering it was about as old as that model could be and half its systems were modified or replaced to keep it flying. The yacht had been cleaned up, redecorated, and restocked afterwards, and Hannibal's things had been moved over from the old ship. It didn't quite feel like home just yet but it was certainly on its way. More importantly at the moment, it was the start of the date.
Hans had sent Indy a time as well as a landing pad designation and location so she could land her own ship nearby and Hannibal could pick her up to walk the short distance over. He'd also double-checked the date was happening at all, for some reason. It was probably just polite. Totally. He scooped the vegetables into a bowl, mixed them with others, and moved it to a small dining table in the more open area that also featured a bar. He should probably get going.
Hans removed his apron - featuring a "Please do nothing to the cook" slogan printed across the front - and double checked his appearance in a mirror. For once he was wearing his father would approve of, a tunic cut in the naboo fashion, though he'd opted to avoid the cape. Definitely no shoulder cape. He'd just end up taking it off anyway. Right, let's go. Just dinner.
He stepped down the ramp of his ship, the door closing behind him with his astromech at the controls, and left the landing area to head to the central departure area for the spaceport to wait for Indy. It shouldn't be too long now and he didn't want to be late. He was pretty sure he'd literally die if he managed to be late to a date he'd asked someone else to.
@Killa Ree