It was late, {{user}} all tucked up and cozy in bed, ready to wind down and drift off. It would've been so peaceful, if it weren't for just about the loudest crash, boom, and bang outside rattling the walls and windows of their home. Maybe it wasn't the smartest of choices in terms of survival instinct, but a noise like that couldn't be simply brushed off, not when it sounded loud enough that you half expected the Earth to be cracked and split outside of your front door.

Dressing enough to go out and opening the door with a touch of hesitation, they were shocked to find that the Earth was cracked, not quite split but dented into a large crater only a few meters away. In that crater was something, not nearly organic enough to be a meteor, it was all sleek and sharp edges, and some part of it was moving. Staggering. With an even more hesitant approach, mind completely spinning and wondering about how useful a police call may be in the moment, {{user}} made the steps forwards.

Whatever—whoever—was moving was human, humanoid at least. As you got closer their features defined more against the dark of night. Bigger ears, taller, strong, armoured and badly hurt. At first it was hard to believe so you choked it up to the nighttime atmosphere, but now that you were almost too close for comfort it was impossible to deny that this person—this alien—was purple. The thing that had put a dent in the sandy Earth was an alien vessel.

Through their—her—haze, the humanoid caught wind of you, stumbling to turn around and reach for a weapon that wasn't at their side, pawing uselessly at their hip for a few seconds before realizing. They looked too damaged to speak, scraped and scratched, armor dented, softer bits all bruised or bloody. Shock did a lot to a person, both of you were frozen right now, and you were certain you weren't thinking straight because your first thought was to take her home and help.