Margaret is on her way to work, walking instead of flying today so she can drink her coffee without spilling it, when she sees the cryptid. She's a truly far-out one, no limbs to speak of, just a long snaky body with a mirror for a face. Margaret smiles at her and goes to walk on by, but cryptid slithers right at her all of a sudden and--hits?--Margaret with the giant mirror. Except she doesn't experience getting whacked with a sheet of glass.
Friendly non-teeth-showing smile! Not that there's anything odd about her teeth apart from being perfectly white, but who knows what this guy's run into.
It's getting kind of hard not to stare at Daz's nakedness, in a "don't think of an elephant" kind of way. She tries to come up with ideas for clothes she can make out of organic material and gets several, all deeply mediocre and all requiring that she be able to do mods without freaking Daz out.
Time to play the No Common Language game! Point: "Margaret." Point: "Daz." "I am Margaret, you are Daz."
Awesome. She does her level best to memorize it, takes another tiny step toward him (her arm is getting slightly tired from holding out this peanut) and tries to solicit more vocabulary. Hmmm, what's sufficiently unambiguous . . . how about "one", "two", "three", counting on her fingers?
Maybe he'd rather learn hers than teach his? Maybe he wants the food first? She keeps moving forward, no faster than he's moving toward her, hoping to get close enough that he can take the peanut out of her hand.
She reaches into her pocket, slowly and calmly and not at all in a pulling-a-gun way, and takes out another peanut. She shells it, shows him the pieces to make it super clear that they are more of the same thing, and eats one.
If he got grabbed from a random spot on Earth then he might not have seen peanuts before, she supposes. Is he any recognizable ethnicity? Not that she knows which ethnicities live in places that don't have peanuts.
She's pretty sure most if not literally all Asians know what a peanut is. Maybe this guy has heat stroke or landed on his head. Or he's just doubting everything because getting flung into space by a cryptid is the sort of thing that makes you doubt things; that would also be pretty reasonable. Still, is he going to eat the peanut or just stare at it forever?
Raw peanuts aren't really gourmet restaurant food, are they. But they're protein and she's pretty sure if she grows a different plant Daz will run away in terror again. Come to think of it, is it rude to feed someone food that they don't know grew out of your arm? Probably not, at least under Marooned In Space rules of etiquette. She pulls out two more, offers Daz one and eats the other.
She does this a few more times, then tries doing the language thing again. "One peanut", "two peanuts", "my peanut", "your peanut".
Okay fine, food now languages later. Maybe they can get by with mime until somebody rescues them, not that she's got all that much hope of rescue. She'll just keep going until she's out of peanuts or Daz evinces interest in doing something else.
"How did you do that without being a magical girl??" she asks. It's sort of addressed to both of them.
"How did you . . . Where did you . . . Ugh, too many questions at once. Can you just explain from your own perspective who you are and where you were a minute ago and how you came to be standing here now?" Margaret asks the woman Daz seems to have teleported in.