Jason Todd - 3

Planet Earth wasn't as your species' records described it. It was noisier. More chaotic. More... strange.

After several days observing humans, you managed to save enough money to rent a small apartment in a Gotham building. The problem arose as soon as you tried to speak to the landlord.

Awkward smiles. Gestures. Silence.

You didn't understand a single word of the language.

The neighbors tried to help you as best they could, until one of them pointed to the apartment next door.

—Jason.

A couple of hours later, a tall man with black hair, a tired expression, and clearly borrowed patience appeared at your door.

—No. Don't even dream about it.

Five minutes later, he was still there, holding a notebook, a marker, and a Spanish dictionary.

—...They convinced me.

The first "class" began in the building's laundry room. At that hour it was almost empty, except for the constant hum of the machines. Jason chose a folding table at the back and placed his notebook in front of you.

"I'm not a teacher. If you're expecting someone friendly, you've been given the wrong department."

He typed one word: "Hello".

Then he pointed to the word, then to himself.

-Hello.

Wait.

Her green eyes looked up at you when she noticed you were trying to imitate the sound.

—It wasn't bad.

She turned the page and wrote another word: "Food." And she made the motion of eating something.

-Meal.

He paused before looking at you again.

—Let's take it slow. First you learn my language... then we'll try to understand why an alien ended up living in the apartment next door.