The medic leads her in - there's a shallow step up onto the porch, but it's otherwise flat, with wide enough doorways that she doesn't need to worry much about navigating them. The inside of the house is entirely done up an incredibly bland grey, to the point where it's hard to distinguish any of its features, and the medic half-apologizes for that; she'll fix it up in a minute, but she wants to fix Mabel's face first. Or she can do it now, if it's really bothering her (and there's a sense that she'd only be a bit surprised at that); she offers her tentacles to be pointed at again for this choice once she's guided Mabel to sit on the curved couch by the door.

Mabel cannot see anything really so it doesn't matter if this room is gray! If the medic doesn't understand her need to be inside, that's fine, most people don't.

Mabel will gesture that she wants her face fixed, please. She's not really sure how fixed it can get, but she would like less uncertainty.

Oh thank goodness. Hold still, please.

The pain and numbness disappear practically immediately; it takes another few seconds for her eyesight to return, good as new or possibly better. The first thing she can see is the medic, who is indeed a naked but heavily furred peach-colored lady. Or, no, hermaphrodite? Something like that. The house, if she looks around, is narrow, grey and extremely boring; the part she can see from where she's sitting is just a countertop-based workstation running along the other side of the room.

The medic watches her for another moment and then, satisfied with her work, goes to fix the house up; this involves going around and touching things, changing the colors and textures to match Mabel's outfit: the countertops and ceiling take on the darker grey and gentle heathering of her jacket; the walls become white like her shirt, with a band of blue trim around the top to match her tie; the doors of the cabinets below the countertops come to match the argyle of her socks; and the floor gains a similar color and sheen to her black leather shoes. This only takes a few minutes, and the medic ends with the couch she's sitting on, darkening and heathering it, and then asks if that looks all right.

Wow that was... shockingly quick and easy? She would never have expected this and not recognizing the magic is becoming more pressing.

She's barely going to register the redecorating -- it's lovely! But she's mostly distracted by not knowing which species is in front of her, and the strange magic.

She still wants to be polite, though, so she nods.

...blue for 'that means yes', yellow for 'that means no'?

Worth a shot. She really needs to figure out how to use their telepathy.

Blue for yes!

Good, that'll be more convenient than pointing all the time - does she have a no sign? ...also, is she right to guess that this means Mabel's inability to communicate isn't new?

For the first question Mabel points at yes and shakes her head to demonstrate no.

For the second she both nods and points to "Yes."

....okay. This might be out of her wheelhouse; she's only heard of people being unable to communicate for medical reasons when they have brain problems, and Mabel doesn't. She can send a few messages, though, and see if anyone has heard of it happening in any other circumstances.

Can Mabel craft?

Mabel can't craft, but she can do magic and make things. She's got a few levels in wizard and a lot in artificing.

She's not sure how similar this magic is to Crafting, though. It feels and behaves totally differently.

So... maybe? If she only has yes and no, though, she's going to pick "no."

All right. Well, this is as good a place to be as any if she's not able to live on her own, at least for now; in the long run one of them may want to figure something else out, but there's no huge rush. The next priority is probably establishing better communication of some sort; does Mabel know how to write?

Yes! She nods and points. So they do have language? That makes things easier, hopefully.

She wants to ask for paper and pen right away, but gesturing got a strange response last time.

The medic goes to make her something like that, actually! She opens one of the cupboards and takes a moment to recolor the lump of claylike material in it to a darker grey before pulling off a lump of it to reshape into a stiff black leather-like board with a squishy claylike grey writing surface on one side and a smaller lump to shape into a pointed blue writing implement, both of which she turns over to Mabel.

Mabel takes the clay and implement and considers them. This looks very hard to write in like she's used to writing, which maybe she should have expected.

Still, she manages to write, very shallowly, "Hello, my name is Mabel" in Common on the clay.

Aaaand that's not in the writing system she knows. She does know someone who might recognize it, at least, if she can make a copy to send to them? And she can print out a dictionary in the local style and read it to her, hm, starting tomorrow probably, she's got chores she needs to do today.

That would be great and Mabel would be very grateful. She's better at learning to write than learning to speak, anyway.

Chores are understandable! Mabel honestly just wants to sleep so tomorrow is better for understandable. 

She points to "yes" twice, even if these were not technically questions.

Sounds good. The amenities here are pretty standard but she can give Mabel a quick tour if she thinks she might not recognize them; also there's a call bell over here on the wall, this button for emergencies and this one for non-emergencies, and she'll bring food by in a bit, and kitchenwares if Mabel thinks she'll be all right with them after whatever happened with the acid.Tour, yes/no; oven and stovetop and knives and things, yes/no?

Yes to both! Things are looking very different than she's used to.

The call bell is a good idea and she's curious how it works, but she's not going to press any just to try it out, that seems rude.

She's not good at cooking but she's also not going to say that, that also seems rude.

She'll show her the house, then. First, there's the controls for the overhead lights and the worklights over the counter and in the cabinets below it. In the bathroom, there's a walk-in bathtub with a button to make it watertight and more to control the water temperature and pressure, and a button to mirror-ify and un-mirror-ify the wall over the sink and a section of the back wall. Back in the main area, what looked like an enclosed cabinet turns out to be an enclosed bed, with a bank of at least a dozen buttons inside to do everything from adjusting the mattress firmness to making a portion of the ceiling transparent to dispensing water into a cup to locking the sliding door; it also comes with a set of blankets in three different thicknesses plus a weighted one. And back at the couch, she shows her the drawers built into the bottom of it that hold more pillows and blankets for cozying up there. All of the buttons are marked with unfamiliar glyphs made mostly of simple shapes; there's enough of a logic to them that the medic can describe what Mabel is meant to be seeing in each one, to help her remember what they do.

Well this is nothing like anything she's ever seen. This is not surprising but it's still kind of upsetting. She still has no idea where she is and she's increasingly suspecting it's very far -- another plane, far. 

She's still going to try all the buttons she's shown, though. Tomorrow she'll probably explore some more but for now she's too overwhelmed.

The medic will leave her to it, if there's nothing else she needs - is there?

Also her daughter might bring lunch and dinner, if she's too busy to handle it - that's the younger woman in the green and gold argyle; Mabel will probably be seeing a fair amount of her and of the medic's other household member, who's got a black and bright blue aesthetic.

She doesn't need anything else, thank you!

She shakes her head in answer to the first question and nods to the second. "Yes" is not quite "Thank you," but it's close enough.

Mabel is going to sleep for a bit now!

She can make the bed quite cozy with all the features it has.

There's a knock at her door after about an hour.

She's a little disoriented when she wakes up and calls "Come in!", but pretty quickly she realizes she's going to have to go over there and open the door herself.

She does this. Whoever's on the other side (presumably the healer's daughter) will see she's got a crease from the pillow on her cheek, and her hair is tangled around her antlers. Otherwise she's a sleepy looking humanoid dressed mostly in professional, academic-looking grays which are somewhat at odds with her bright pink hair.

The young woman on the other side of the door looks surprisingly human, especially given the clear family resemblance to the medic in her facial structure; the only things that suggest she might not be just straightforwardly human are the tentacles sprouting from either side of each of her wrists, and perhaps the vine tattoos extending up from them to twine around her arms. She's wearing the promised green-and-gold argyle, though, and has a tray with a meal on it: chickpea tenders and potato wedges with sweetened mustard and spiced mayonnaise for dipping sauces, herbed peas, and an apple-cinnamon tart.

Her mom couldn't tell her what Mabel would like, for obvious reasons, but if any of this doesn't work for her she can bring more of whatever does.