A teenage boy with black-and-white hair cringes. 

"I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry."

She doesn't hear him, exactly; insofar as she does, she doesn't understand him, but of course she wouldn't, she hasn't been able to understand spoken words for months.

She pitches forward, then back again as she catches herself with the Force to avoid falling onto him; the robot, still behind her, catches her and helps her find her balance. It's only then that she opens her eyes.

Carlos notices that the woman almost fainted, and is therefore not very likely to attack him, although she could possibly be playing dumb. It is then that he notices the robot. "Holy-- what's THAT? Are you from the Other Place?"

She signs to the droid, who asks a question in an unfamiliar language.

"Oh, right, the Other Place probably doesn't speak Common." Carlos mutters a few words in an ancient tongue and waves his hands in a complicated, fluid motion. Sparks dance between his fingers. "Hi, I'm Carlos. You startled me. Are you from the Other Place?"

The woman tenses up and takes a step back when he begins casting, falling into a defensive stance but otherwise only glaring.

"This is Deskyl, and I'm DZ-12Q; I'm afraid I don't know what other place you mean."

"The place with the machines," Carlos says. "I don't know what it's called. Some of their stuff washes up on the beach sometimes, from shipwrecks, and I tinker with it and try to make it work. But there's an-- anti-machine field or something on the Island, machines don't work anywhere but here."

"I've never heard of anything like that. But machines are common where we're from, yes."

"Please take me there," Carlos says, "please, I can't stay here any longer, I-- I don't have any money or anything but I'll be your slave if you show me how to get there."

"I don't know if we can get back. Sith can't usually teleport. What's the matter?"

"My mother is Cruella DeVil," he says, as if that explains everything. 

"I've never heard of her, I'm sorry. I think we might be from very far away."

Deskyl steps aside, turning so that the droid can see her hands and vice versa, and signs. What's happening?

    I'm finding out, DZ signs back. He needs help; I don't know what kind yet.

Hurry; I need to sleep.

    Yes, Ma'am.

"You need to sleep?" Carlos says. "I can get you to a bed. Well, not a bed exactly."

"That would be very good, thank you, Sir."

He can understand your sign language, she relays. He has someplace you can sleep.

How do you know this language?

"I cast an understand-all-languages spell," Carlos said. "Do they not have those in the Other Place?"

    "I don't think so. And it wouldn't work on droids, if someone invented one. This is very confusing." He made a Force effect to know languages, she signs.

Not a Force-user, Deskyl replies.

"You don't use force magic to understand languages," Carlos says, confused. "You use mind magic to understand languages. And I do too know lots of force magic." He lets lightning spark between his fingers to demonstrate.

Deskyl steps between him and DZ again. Stop that.

Carlos had been growing increasingly comfortable, but at her words he tenses up as if preparing for a blow. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry, I'm-- I'll do what you want, please don't hurt me."

She relaxes, marginally, and steps back to where she and DZ can talk. Update, she signs, please.

    What he's doing doesn't work like the Force. He's confused; so am I. He was trying to demonstrate it.

Shouldn't threaten you.

    I'm not sure he knows about Sith.

Shouldn't threaten you, she repeats.

Carlos has a look of horror on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to threaten anyone, it's an accident, please don't hurt me."

DZ relays this; Deskyl doesn't sign back, but inclines her head in acknowledgement. "She's not going to hurt you," the droid reassures.