Above the town square, a thunderous crack is heard, as space itself splits apart. An uneven circle, five meters across, opens above the height of the buildings. Water with the pressure of a water cutter shoots up straight into the air, and continues an unfathomable distance into the air. The sound of the water flow in deafening.

If one is paying attention, far up in the sky, one could see a ghostly eel-shaped creature depart from the water beam and fly off toward a distant mountain.

The water keeps flowing at alarming rates.

20 seconds later, a figure calmly swims out of the column, somehow not launched into the sky by the flow. It drops, and lands on the ground hard.

<Ah, they chose to escape to a dry environment. Smart. Harder for me to follow.>

The figure seems to inflate to an amorphous blob while falling, and after landing slowly seems to deflate into a sleek humanoid. The legs bend too many times, and the eyes are red and piercing. There are plentiful fins especially around the legs, and the dark scales shimmer under the sunlight as water drips off

The figure stands up and makes a relaxed gripping gesture at the water column.

The tear in space quickly closes and the water column tapers off until it stops.

Some of the first water starts to make its way down again, and a heavy rain starts, salty to the taste. Sometimes, a piece of kelp, some coral, or an aberrant looking fish falls from the sky.

The figure turns their attention to their surroundings.

What their surroundings primarily are, at this point in time, is damp. Possibly less damp than their previous surroundings, though.

It's hard to say what other features of the area will be salient to them, though. Perhaps it is the neatly built wooden buildings, stuccoed against the elements, clearly built with tools beyond what can be mundanely constructed underwater. Perhaps it is the metal and glass four-wheeled vehicle rapidly reversing direction back up the paved and painted road, electric motor faintly whining.

Or perhaps it is the land-dwelling figure of a man with a perfectly normal number of knees and a snow shovel, rendered redundant by the salty water, over his shoulder. He stands at the foot of a short set of steps leading up to a central building, larger than the others, and stares at the visitor for a long moment. 

"Well," he finally remarks. "Isn't that something."

Then he half turns to call over his shoulder into the building. 

"Ludhi! I think I'm hallucinating. You might want to get on that."

They see the motion of the vehicle.

<This arrival seems to have scared some of the larger local life forms.>

Then they look over to the being roughly shaped like themselves.

<But not some of the smaller ones. I wonder if they communicate.>

They take a few steps toward the being that made noise.

If the being spooks, they'll stop, but while their approach is unhurried, they have nearly nothing in the way of human body language, meaning they're oddly stiff and alien in their motions. They do not blink.

Þereminians tend to pride themselves on being open-minded and welcoming. But that acculturation tends to come out the worse compared to millions of years of evolution. So Ðonzih does spook, a bit, when the creature comes toward him.

He makes a warding gesture toward the almost-certainly-a-hallucination and calls out in LCTL, slowly backing up the steps.

"I'm not sure who or what you are, but I am distinctly unsettled, possibly seeing things, and would prefer that you don't approach, all things considered."

These sounds don't immediately register as communication, but backing away from a threat is considerably universal.

They stop and back up a few steps. They wait to see if that helps.

That does help, yeah. It shows that it is ... maybe capable of understanding?

A woman with fantastically spiky hair pokes her head out of the door of the building.

"... nope. I see that too, Ðonzih. Well."

She whistles a tune that makes her phone chirp.

"Audio command recognized: calling Emergency Services ..."

"Emergency Services — what is the emergency?"

"There is some kind of grey, unsettling, humanoid creature who appeared in the square here —" her phone will have relayed her location on its own "— and at least two of us can see it. Me and Ðonzih."

"Okay — can you put Ðonzih on the phone so I can confirm what they see, please?"

And the conversation will continue along those lines for several moments, unless the unexpected visitor interrupts.

<There are two of them. They are near each other and don't spook each other. Guarding each other perhaps? Packs. Perhaps means communication.

They're making a lot of noise and it seems the noises are repeated. Communication?

Let's see if that works.>

They pick out some parts of the noises and tries to repeat them. Sadly their mouth is currently configured with baleen. The result does not sound particularly similar.

They open their mouth and emit a SCREEECH.

There is this to say about þereminians: if an animal makes noises at them, they have a certain tendency to make noises right back.

Ðonzih makes his own "Screeeeech" — although it lacks some of the terrifying harmonics of the figure's. Then he points to Ludhi and himself, stating their names, on general principle. If the figure has a concept of language, it can't hurt, and if they don't then he's not going to look foolish to anyone except himself, which is fine.

Imitation! These locals totally use sound for communication!

Okay, limb movements right after. Causal? Limb movements could also be communication!

The figure moves their arm for the first time after approaching, and imitates the pointing gesture exactly, to an eerie degree, including small mannerisms. They repeat the off-to-the-side gesture first, then to the their own body. They screech in time with the gestures, this time more quietly, to match the general cadence of the names Ðonzih pronounced.

SCREE-eech SCREE-eech!

... okay. On the one hand, that sure looks like the being doesn't understand concepts like "gestures" or possibly "names". Which is ... a challenging starting point. He's an accountant, not a linguist.

On the other hand, it's neither approaching any closer nor eating him, and he isn't hallucinating. And Emergency Services will be on their way real fast. And he doesn't need to finish shoveling the steps of the town hall. So, things are better overall than they could be.

"Should we be ... doing a pronoun skit?" he mutters lowly to Ludhi

"It mimicked your pointing a lot better than it mimicked the sound," she points out. "Maybe we should start with the signed mode?"

And so, after a moment of communication, the two straighten up and enact a little skit:

"I am Ludhi. You are Ðonzih," Ludhi says, speaking and signing simultaneously.

    "I am Ðonzih. You are Ludhi," Ðonzih replies.

Then Ludhi turns to the visitor. "I am Ludhi. You are ..."

She doesn't include the question word, because the being might think that she was naming it "what", which would lead to all kinds of confusion.

Excitement, this is definitely communication. There are patterns. They are regular! What do they indicate? Let's start with imitation as encouragement.

They imitate the full gestures, screeching along, now even more quietly as they get more control. They keep unblinking eye contact with Ludhi throughout the entire imitation.

"I am Ludhi. You are Ðonzih."

The gestures change slightly to match Ðonzih's idiolect.

"I am Ðonzih. You are Ludhi"

And back again.

"I am Ludhi. You are ..."

They pause for a moment. The proximity gesture keep the same flickering finger pattern as the being it is close to. Let's see if that's right.

Eye contact with Ðonzih. "I am Ludhi. You are Ðonzih." 

Eye contact with Ludhi. "I am Ðonzih. You are Ludhi." 

They wait, realizing they don't particularly have a way to know if that was right or not

Ðonzih and Ludhi exchange glances. This is ... not how it usually goes, in the fiction that Ludhi has read about this kind of exchange. But. That makes sense, that an alien would be much more strange than they were expecting, even given that.

It's definitely trying, and Ludhi has too much dignity to be the first one to give up on trying to communicate, even if she's really not sure what to do next.

She goes up the steps, and drags a table and chair from the anteroom down.

"I am Ludhi. They are Ðonzih. That is a table. That is a chair. That is the lake. That is the sun. That is the town hall."

Larger Continent Trade Language has a very regular structure, so these sentences all follow the same sentence structure: "Designated <pronoun in nominative case> <word or fingerspelled name>".

She gets Ðonzih to repeat the same series of sentences. Then, because this alien keeps undershooting the amount of context they're assuming, they both repeat the sentences in different orders, and while standing in different locations, so that the relative nature of the pronoun gestures becomes apparent.

As they take a break to get things from inside, the rain starts to let up. It seems the last of the water has made its way down, and at this point the area is looking fairly flooded, at least if the drainage of the area is not overengineered to a fairly high degree.

As they come to the end of their repetitions of these designations, which the figure is watching with rapt attention, they suddenly snap their head up into the sky. 

They do a hasty aggressive sweep of one arm with a grabby motion toward their left, and for a moment something warbles in their hand in a way that threatens comprehension.

A large blob of something hits the ground to the right of Ðonzih, dangerously close. Upon inspection, it could have been a seal before it fatally decompressed, if it wasn't for the tentacles...? and the extra eyes.

The impact creates a rather big splash of salt water. Ðonzih, the table, and the chair, are all probably soaked.

<So much collateral damage, so much death.> They scan the sky for a second, disappointed in something, but not finding it.

They look back at Ðonzih, seemingly inspecting him, taking slow steps to his right to see more angles.

"Aaah!"

He scrambles back from the sudden blob, falling back against the stairs.

The surroundings are fairly soaked — the village relies on 'be up-hill from a lake' for drainage, so water is piling up and spilling around the buildings.

"Is everything okay there?" the Emergency Services dispatcher calls from Ludhi's phone. Letting people try to make contact with the creature when it tried to talk was perfectly reasonable, so they've just been scrambling up the escalation chain while Ludhi and Ðonzih work.

"Please attempt to remain calm and deescalate — a support helicopter is inbound, ETA 33 minutes."

There is no escalation from the figure's side, they just seem focused on Ðonzih on the ground, but not approaching. The blob stays still. But it smells awful, like wet old places and gore.

Ðonzih is charged with maintaining the cleanliness of the town hall. And he has a snow shovel.

But he is not particularly interested in touching that. And maybe Emergency Services will think it's relevant. Anyway, he's busy with the alien. That's his story and he's sticking to it.

The alien probably can't get that good a look at him when he's bundled up in thick woolen winter clothes, even if they are now soaked with seawater. But he doesn't particularly want to take them off under these conditions, either, and he doesn't think they've conveyed enough information to the being to be able to manage something like "why don't you come indoors away from the risk of Sudden Sky Flesh Blobs".

He gives the SSFB a wary glance, and decides that maybe this is a problem best solved by briefly commandeering Torvash's garage.

He gets up slowly, and starts signing "follow me" while circling around the alien at a healthy distance and making for a building a bit up the hill from the town hall.

Ludhi is updating the dispatcher — who has issued a general 'shelter in place' order to the village, although that doesn't stop curious villagers from peering at the scene taking place in the center of town through windows.

Those are more communication attempts. They were just about ready to think that they had a handle on that first bunch. The straight looking gesture seems like a line to be continued. They give it a chance, signing and softly screeching, cause the noise is important for some reason.

"That is a chair" pointing to the chair.

"That is the sun" generally pointing upward, not particularly close to the sun.

"That is Ludhi" pointing to Ludhi.

Ðonzih might not see this if his back is turned as he's leaving.

If Ludhi stays, so will the figure, since they don't particularly know what the new sign is conveying.

<I wonder if that one was hurt by the v̷̠̒ő̷̠ḭ̴̓d̶͉̏ş̵̍ẻ̵ͅâ̷̜l̸̢̀'s impact. Perhaps it's retreating to its nest.>

They have not noticed the cold per se, and is not used to reasoning about which conditions might induce cold related damage outside the depths.

At this point the water has stopped falling, and it seems the last of the propelled objects have hit the ground. What remains is the immediate problem of very sudden flooding everywhere, and the long term problem of what will happen with all this salt and these aberrant flesh pieces and underwater plant life.

Okay, well, he tried. And if the alien isn't inclined to go somewhere, then maybe they will all just stay out here in this cold, salty flood with occasional sudden sky flesh. Why not.

"That is a chair," he agrees. "That is Ludhi."

Probably a professional linguist would have a better idea of how to go about this kind of thing.

Actually, the professional linguist who emergency services pulled into the teleconference thinks they're doing pretty well. She conveys some potential next steps to Ludhi and takes notes.

"I am Ludhi. You are ...." Ludhi tries again. If they've figured out pointing, maybe the alien will be able to fill in a name?

<Repetition for two things but not the third. Is that disagreement on one of them?>

<That pattern is incomplete! What will they do if I do an incomplete pattern?>

"That is the town hall" pointing to the town hall.

"That is the town hall" pointing to another nearby house.

"That is the town hall" pointing to a third nearby house.

A longer pause.

"That is..." pointing to the water.

"That is..." pointing to the blob of flesh.

"That is..." pointing to the the chair.

"That is the town hall," Ludhi agrees. She debates trying to clarify the difference between 'town hall', and 'house' before deciding that she's not ready to boil that kettle of worms. "That is~ the town hall. That is~ the town hall," she settles on, making the gesture for 'designates' the slightest bit wobbly to indicate that those houses are not, in fact, the town hall, but they are pretty close so she's being metaphorical.

... maybe they can just make everyone's houses into official town halls so that she retroactively won't have lied to the alien.

"That is salt water," she says, completing the first incomplete pattern.

She's not sure how to refer to the blob of flesh. And she's still cautious about accidentally naming things 'what'.

"That is ..."

She pauses for a moment and then adds "That is the chair."

<The first pattern changed between the first and the others.>

<But the incomplete pattern elicits completion! Is this inquiry?> 

<One of them was not completed. Perhaps they don't know communication for v̷̠̒ő̷̠ḭ̴̓d̶͉̏ş̵̍ẻ̵ͅâ̷̜l̸̢̀'s. It's not as if v̷̠̒ő̷̠ḭ̴̓d̶͉̏ş̵̍ẻ̵ͅâ̷̜l̸̢̀'s could endure this environment for any amount of time.>

"That is salt water."

"That is the chair."

"That is ..." to the blob.

A slightly longer pause. <If this is inquiry, then they are inquiring about my identity. I don't have enough patterns to fairly describe myself.>

"I am ..."

"I am ..."

Yup! That sure is what they want to know! Who the heck are you?

Ludhi confers with the remote linguist for a moment, and then enlists Ðonzih to go fetch some fruit and other foods for demonstration purposes. He takes the opportunity to change into a dry sweater. When he returns, she puts an apple on the table and signs:

"This is an apple. I am Ludhi. Ludhi eats the apple."

Then she puts actions to words, biting into the fruit and quickly reducing it to a core.

"This is a pear. Ludhi eats the pear."

Soon the pear, too, is a core. New fruit is obtained.

"Ðonzih eats an apple. Ðonzih eats a pear."

She lays out the remaining items: an apple, a potato, a rock, a raw fish, a bowl of beans, a piece of steak, a block of wood, and a lit candle.

"This is an apple. This is a potato. This is a rock. This is a fish. This is beans. This is steak. This is wood. This is a candle. Ludhi generally-eats apples. Ðonzih generally-eats apples. You eat ..."

When the phone makes noise the figure looks at it. <Those small beings seem to have very similar noises to the large ones. Does it communicate too? Why does it tolerate being held? Symbiosis?>

<This seems to be an action! They communicate about sustenance.>

They correctly repeat the naming of all the foods.

<Hm, could that be "once sustained by"?>

"Ludhi generally-eats apples. Ludhi generally-eats pears. Ðonzih generally-eats apples. Ðonzih generally-eats pears."

A pause.

"Ludhi generally-eats potatoes."

"Ludhi generally-eats steak."

"Ludhi generally-eats rocks."

"Ludhi generally-eats ..."

"Ludhi generally-eats apples," she agrees. She goes through each food item (indicating that Ðonzih eats them too) until they reach rocks.

"Ludhi can't eat rocks."

She pushes the rock away from her.

As it turns out, Ludhi and Ðonzih generally-eat apples, pears, potatos, fish, beans, and steak. They can't-eat rocks, wood, and candles.

She ends again with "You eat ..."?

<They repelled the geological sample. Do they not gain sustenance from it perhaps? The motions were the same except... that head movement.>

"Ludhi generally-eats apples. Ludhi can't eat rocks."

She repeats those statements to indicate agreement.

She takes an exaggerated demonstration bite of an apple, her lip pulled back to show that her teeth go right through it. Then she puts the rock in her mouth, and (gently enough to not hurt her teeth) bites down. This does not do anything to the rock, which she shows to be unblemished. She repeats the demonstration with the block of wood.

"Ludhi can't eat rocks. Ludhi can't eat wood."

<Ok!>

They point the to blob repeatedly.

"That eats fish." "That can't eat rocks."

A pause.

"Ludhi can't eat that." "Ðonzih can't eat that."

"Ludhi can't eat that." "Ðonzih can't eat that."

Another pause. 

"I can't eat..."

Yeah, Ludhi was super not going to try to eat that.

Still! Communication is occurring, which is actually pretty reassuring!

"You can't eat Ludhi. You can't eat Ðonzih."

... which is maybe not the most diplomatic thing to say. And also it's more of a "I hope you won't" then "you definitely can't". But. The figure is pretty damn unnerving and she wants to be clear on this point.

They take a steps back in shock and to be nonthreatening. <Is that something they've been considering as a possibility?!>

"I can't eat Ludhi. I can't eat Ludhi."

"I can't eat Ðonzih. I can't eat Ðonzih."

And then again, this time returning to base position with the arms quickly after the sign for eating.

"I can't eat."

The alien can't eat ... anything? Period?

Ludhi can't possibly see how that could be true, but it seems pretty clear that it won't eat them, which is really the most important thing in this whole situation to her personally.

She pauses to think about where to go from here.

The figure points to the rock, then carefully approaches and picks up the rock, then backs away again.

Then they hesitate.

They put the rock back, and then point to their hand.

"This is a..."

Then they point to their eye.

"This is a..."

"This is a hand. This is an eye," Ludhi supplies, curious to see where they're going with this.

"Hand. Eye." they repeat.

"Ludhi can't eye hand. Ðonzih can't eye hand."

"Ludhi can't eye hand. Ðonzih can't eye hand."

"Ludhi eye rock. Ðonzih eye rock."

"Ludhi eye apple. Ðonzih eye apple."

The þereminians try to brainstorm things that they can do to rocks and apples but can't do to their hands, that somehow involve eyes. They fail to come up with anything plausible.

"You eye ..." she asks, in case that helps.

Hm, they're not acting as they would if they understood. Let's add more steps.

They look at the apple, and without looking at the þereminians, sign "I eye apple. I can't eye Ludhi. I can't eye Ðonzih."

They go back to the continuous unblinking eye contact with Ludhi. "I can't eye apple. I eye Ludhi. I can't eye Ðonzih."

They shift the piercing eye contact to Ðonzih. "I can't eye apple. I can't eye Ludhi. I eye Ðonzih."

At this point they've stopped screeching along because it seemed like all the information being communicated was encoded in the hands anyway.

Oh! That makes more sense.

She makes unblinking eye contact with the visitor.

"Ludhi eye you."

She turns to look at Ðonzih.

"Ludhi eye Ðonzih."

Ðonzih and Ludhi compose a few other looking-at related sentences to make it clear they have understood this new subject, even if they're not sure why the visitor is bringing it up.

That seems better, let's try the first thing again.

"Ludhi eye rock. Ðonzih eye rock."

"Ludhi can't eye I hands. Ðonzih can't eye I hands."

"You can't see my hands" is ... a baffling claim for someone to make via sign language.

Ludhi stares directly and pointedly at the hands with which the being has been signing at them.

"Ludhi eye that. That is a hand. That is a you hand."

"Ludhi eye that. That is a hand. That is a I hand." the figure agrees.

Staring intently at Ludhi's hands. "I eye Ludhi hand."

"I can't eye Ludhi hand." and after signing this they look up into the sky.

Then they pause for a moment.

"I eye rock." tiny pause, then they look at the rock.

"I can't eye rock." tiny pause, then they look to the side.

"Ludhi eye rock."

Ah.

Ludhi obediently looks at the rock.

They wait about eight seconds, then:

"Ludhi can't eye rock."