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Sherry had been given a notice about a time and a place - and considering where it was (on the island) she'd showed up dressed comfortably, but always fashionably, and wearing her coat. Since this was clearly a work event.

Except the room was not full of desks and chairs.

She looked around the room at the pillows and the blankets. She looked at the names on the white board. Mentally she took note that both Mark and Lucky were also there - and it seemed like everyone had been paired off for some reason. Ah. This must be some kind of weird team building thing. Sherry looked for her name. Sherry "Gale" Greyson. Gale? The only person that called her Gale was Mark, so clearly he had a hand in this. Ok then! Whatever this was it couldn't be too bad.

Sherry turned around and scanned the room. She needed to find Lysander.

Oh. First thing first, Sherry stopped and put "Sherry" on a name tag. Then she started walking around the room.

"I'm looking for a Lysander Astoria. Does anyone know where I might find Lysander?"

"Hang on," said Mark, lying on his back now on a mound of pillows, blanket still half-wrapped around his head, "just finishing this tag."

There was the long awkward noise of phone keyboard typing and then he looked up, immediately changed gears, and sat a little taller cross-legged now, and then cleared his throat. "You arrive on this planet, having last your warp drive. It's busted and you'll need new parts to replace it. As you reach the nearest town, a tall, handsome man approaches you, clad in Jedi robes." Yes, Mark was narrating himself, "'Greetings traveller', the tall, handsome man says, 'What would you require of me?'"

He trailed off and gestured at Dottie.

There was a certain amount of hesitation in the young man as he approached the room he thought he was meant to go to for the speed dating thing he'd signed up for. It had been a big step for him, especially after spending as much time isolated as he had, feeling, for a long time, so very sad and alone and out of place on the island.

That had changed, over time, but he was still nervous, still felt so new, and unprepared. A million thoughts zipped through his mind, all questions and second guesses. He wondered if this was all too soon, if he was even ready, even though he knew, truly, that this was actually well overdue.

It still took him a couple extra moments to get himself psyched up enough to enter, and the 15 year old teen with dark hair mostly hidden beneath a beanie, and clothes that looked too big, leg bottoms rolled up, sleeves pushed to the elbows, all thread bare and well worn (comfortable, he would have protested), entered the room with a smile on his face, hopefully one that didn't look too forced.

He saw a table to the side with name tag stickers, and he made his way in that direction, just finishing his when he heard somebody asking over him.

"Yes." He blurted out, whirling around, eyes darting towards whoever had said his name. "Yes, it is me, Tommy." He said, his accent still thick on his tongue.

He was still holding his sticker in hand, not yet stuck onto his jacket where he had intended to put it, as he searched for the owner of the voice.

Dottie blinked down at the man seated in the blankets incredulously as he went on and on about whatever the ******** it was he was playing at, and wondered how much her friends had paid him to act like a damn idiot.

"Uh, ya dude, I could definitely use some respite. From whatever the ******** it is that you're doing right now."

This was totally a prank, she was sure of it.

She wasn't completely sure that he'd even heard her, either too caught up in lala land or flat out ignoring her. Either way, she was incredibly unimpressed.

Dottie had opened her mouth to give him a what for, when he was suddenly back on his phone again. Was this all just a part of it? She seethed, inwardly, and counted down slowly from ten under her breath.

"I don't ******** know. Douche-bag?" She snarled, when he paused to ask her (she assumed he was asking her, and not just talking to himself) a question.

Kammy still wasn't sure why she thought signing up for speed dating was a good idea. Perhaps she just wanted to know more people and actually talk to someone instead of just watching then at sports practice making mental D&D sheets because that was a thing she totally did that one time. She knew Sam pretty well since they were stuck on that island for a hole year dream thing, but beside her she didn't know anyone else. Plus it might be nice to...well, date a guy. Even if it was for five seconds. She wasn't exactly good at relationships due to the fact she had no idea what she was doing and her point allocation in socialization was low. Basically she wasn't used to talking to people.

She was early to the supposed meet up place, standing awkwardly in a corner and wishing she had played more of those relationship simulators, because maybe she'd know how to impress people and not look like a total noob.

Lysander’s childish disappointment at finding himself without any free meal was significant and he didn’t initially make any move at all to go looking for his partner, staying on his sulking spot on the floor. It was only when he heard someone calling out his name that guilt finally outweighed indignation. He wouldn’t want to make someone feel as if they were the reason he was sulking when really it was just the lack of provided food that had upset him. He glanced around at the pretty woman who was apparently looking for him and decided that maybe it was fine to sit up and say hello. Moving the sheets off himself into his lap, he waved a long arm in Sherry’s direction.

“Hello!” he said brightly, being as friendly as he could. “I’m Lysander.”

He was dressed in a very expensive looking suit, his hair carefully up and braided and with a fancy watch on his wrist. Everything about him was dark from his hair to his eyes, even his complexion less pale than most. “Sorry, Sherry was it? I had quite given up on finding you. It’s not exactly a pub or a restaurant, is it?”