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Fumiko stared in a mixture of fear and disbelief at what was now arrayed before her. She continued to yell, thoug whatever words she spoke dd not register in her mind, transfixed as it was by what filled her eyes.

Fucking [i]humans[/i]. 

She watched as another one ran in, waving a… a chain. A chain that was on fire. He seemed to be himself breathing fire. A fucking [i]human[/i], wearing clothes that looked like something from artwork of the medieval period some three thousand years ago. Wielding pyromantic magics. From a [i]chain[/i]. A fucking [i]chain[/i].

It was all too much. She didn’t process that one of the humans was, clearly, a dwarf - but if she had it would have made the situation all the more hilarious. All the more absolutely incomprehensibly mad. She started to laugh, still pointing her gun at them, finger still tight on the trigger, sword still clutched in her other hand. But she laughed, she laughed and laughed and laughed at the sheer absurdity of the situation before her. What else was there to do? She looked at the man, a wizened old man like the humans all inevitably became, and her laughter only increased further.

She must have looked absolutely mad, she realized, somewhere deep inside. But she simply did not care. She looked up towards the heavens, towards the empty sky where beyond billions of stars simply continued to churn along, oblivious to everything. One of them was hers, she was sure of it. 

And she was stuck here instead. 

She laughed more, yelling aloud to the heavens, screaming every syllable with every ounce of energy she could muster. She barely knew what she was saying, and if the people around her were saying anything in turn, she couldn’t hear. She knew the new human had said something, but cosmic coincidences did not extend as far as shared languages. But she had to do [i]something[/i], anything, really, to avoid ending up dead or making enemies in… wherever she was.

She snapped back to reality, pointing her gun at the newcomers as her laughing fit ended as suddenly as it had begun. She watched them, eyes boring a hole through each of them. Words would do no good, that much was evident. She took a chance, and lowered her gun.

She raised her sword, and took a step back, tapping the blade against the hull. “Khosveisa.” And drew a rectangle in the dirt. She pointed to the sun, “Saiyontse,” and drew a circle in the dirt. She repeated the word as she pointed somewhere off into space, and then drew a second circle, further away from the word. She looked up to her impromptu audience - whether this little explanation was doing anything she knew not. The tip of the sword traced a line in the dirt, from the spaceship around the second star, to this world’s star, and then formed a new smaller circle, “Mikai.” She tapped the tip of the sword on the ground, then gestured to the world around them, repeating the word again. Hesitantly, she sheathed her sword, and holstered her firearm, taking another step back. 

She looked at them, and waited.