A Left Turn at Albuqurque

Asina, Mr. Angry Face and Abigail appeared in the darkened alley of a street. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her feet as she wobbled uncertainly. Long distance shadow travel with more than one person and it really wore her out. It was the safest way to travel usually, though. Although, not as much for long distances. How long of a distance did she go? This wasn't the wilderness of Arizona. "This is not...this is not Arizona." She said, feeling somewhat nauseated. Sun shone brightly in the street ahead of her, but it seemed brighter with red paper balls that captured the light. "I...uh...this...oh my head hurts now."

Abigail was already embarrassed at the fact that she and a hunter who was nearly two centuries old managed to get lost from the group. The two had a sense of direction, navigation, and certainly knew better than to get stuck in a situation like this. Luckily enough, Asina had the ability to shadow travel because of her godly blood: one of the big three. Ironically enough, the only one of the big three that wasn't considered a planet, Abigail mused.

"Take it easy for a little while." Abigail said, which was the extent of her kindness. She was grateful that Asina had at least warped them somehow closer to the hunters, at least she was when she said that. Abigail peeked out into the city-scape that was among them, something seemed off. Sign after sign, person after person. Suddenly it clicked in Abigail's head: everything was printed and Chinese or another Asian language she couldn't understand, and the vast majority of people were Asian.

"Oh my gods, you warped us China!" Abigail exclaimed, her jaw now dropped at the situation in front of them.

China? Asina leaned against the cool brick wall of one of the buildings, closing her eyes and lowering her head to help stabilize herself. "I couldn't have shadow travelled both of us to China. It's too far. We'd have ended up in the ocean again." She said as she focused on her breathing for a few moments. Mr. Angry Face perching on her shoulder like a very ruffled parrot.

Abigail shuddered at the mention of the ocean. "We don't talk about that." She asserted, at the brief moment of being stuck in the middle of a freezing wasteland of waves. She couldn't tell if the owl shared her sentiments, but at least he had the ability to fly. It was a good thing Netha wasn't with them for that one.

"Well, every sign is in Chinese." Abigail said, she worked to get a basic understanding of her surroundings. She had no clue what monsters would be like in an Asian country, but she had a pretty good feeling she didn't want to find out. Abigail turned back to the other hunter, it was pretty clear that this shadow warping was having a negative effect on her.

"Are you uh. Okay?" Abigail asked, awkwardly. It wasn't in her nature to be kind often, especially when it came to this hunter whom she shared some sort of rivalry with.

"A moment. Mayhaps two, and I will be. I, uh, may be overexerted myself a little." Asina said, straightening up. The light was far too bright for comfort outside of the alley, the hustle and bustle of morning. That was another thing. China would still be night."We're not in China..." Asina said squinting against the light as she groped for her sunglasses. "That street sign is in English, and shaped like a colonial US street sign."

Asina found her sunglasses and put them on, the darkening of the world around her let her eyes rest and her headache recede some. She looked at Abigail, who looked concerned in the gruff manner that she always had. The Hunter had to be mentally unstable. Still, Asina was going to have to trust Abigail to a degree to not screw everything up. Could she?

Abigail searched for the sign Asina was referencing, though it blended in quite well. The sign was clearly indicating a real street, and not some odd tourist attraction. "I swear, if you warped us to the Twilight Zone." Abigail muttered back to the daughter of Pluto. It was beginning to come pretty clear to her that they were probably in the United States, in a community or area with heavily Asian culture. The hunter sighed; it was ironically much harder to navigate unknown civilization than it was to navigate unknown wilderness.

At least without a map, anyways.

"Okay, no biggie. We can easily handle this." Abigail asserted. She was still flustered at the sounds of everyone on the street speaking a language that clearly wasn't English. And she certainly wasn't going to ask each individual if they knew any English. "I don't suppose you took any Chinese classes in the past two centuries or so?"

"I could maybe order Peking Duck, but not ask for directions." Asina said as she pushed off the wall and headed for the bright street. "We'll get our bearings better in a more open area. They have good silk. People would travel thousands of leagues for silk and spices. The spice road was well known and travelled. I loved being able to get spices and teas from the Orient." Asina said, thinking back to her time in Europe as the world seemed to grow around her. "But I think we should head for the sky scrapers instead of the smell of spicy food."

"Yeah..." Abigail replied, with one brow raised, to her brief history lesson. Note to self, learn what unit of distance a league is, Abigail thought to herself. Still, Asina had a good point. There was no way to tell where they were from an alleyway, and sadly it didn't work out like it did in the movies. Abigail subconsciously frowned at her own thought, if only this was more like a Hollywood world, there would be a convient newspaper right on the ground to tell them where they were.

"So, that whole shadow travel thing," Abigail began, which was an odd thing to mention in a city. Though she didn't worry about it, it didn't look like anyone spoke any English anyway. Even if they did, it didn't matter, nobody would be able to understand the context anyway, and would shrug it off as not serious. "Is it usually reliable, or...?"

Asina moved out into the sunlight and hissed slightly, squinting even under the dark glasses. She considered her answer for a bit and decided to be truthful rather than snarky.

"Shadow travel takes time, concentration and a halfway decent knowledge of geography. Short jumps, less than, ehhh, four-hundred leagues. What is that in English? Four hundred and fifty miles? Five hundred miles? Short jumps I can usually do with good accuracy, assuming I can concentrate and known the terrain. Within a league accurate. Greater than that, well, I tend to shoot the brown." Asina explained, reaching up and scratching Mr. Angry Face near his beak. She looked around the crowded street, then up to see what the skyline looked like. "Abby, do you see a man in one of those ridiculous cowman hats? Yonder, o'er about a stadium length."

Abigail's eyebrow raised ever further higher than she realized was possible. She referenced leagues again, which was obviously a foreign measure of distance, one that Abigial couldn't identify. It was on of the qualities that often peeved Abigail off when it came to butting heads with Asina; she knew all sorts of miscellaneous information on all topics that she would bring up during an argument. Seeing as how Abigail had nothing intelligent to contribute to the discussion of shadow travel or units of measure that weren't basic imperial and metric, she decided not to speak on the subject.

She did have a strange moment of consideration for her owl, though. She wondered how it would possibly try to square up to Netha. That would ruffle some feathers, she mused with a smile on her face.

"Cowboy hats." Abigail corrected, though she did see the man in the hat. It was a very odd sight among the Asian crowd they were around, but Abigail assumed that it meant they were heading in the right direction. "I guess that means we're somewhere in the south. That means most people are probably pretty trigger happy, so probably a good idea to behave." Abigail said, a truly ironic statement based on her own personality.

"South America? I don't think I can travel that far..." Asina said, tilting her head. She shrugged, then headed towards the cowman, moving between the crowd. "And, Abby, I always behave. I am all but a vestal virgin." She said as they walked.

Her head was still throbbing and she wanted to find a good place to figure out where they were. South America was almost definitely wrong. She was certain it was the US. Or was it South US? Was that even a state? She was fairly certain that was not a state.

Abigail's eyes rolled. Asina had always carried a sense of heavy literacy over her, and although it was likely because of her youth being in a time where sarcasm wasn't around and the entirety of many mixed cultures into one person, Abigail suspected that it was at least partially there just to bug her. "I meant the southern states of the United States." Abigail said, not amused. She paused again, her eyes narrowing before she made an addition to her words. "Of America. The United States of America."

Abigail almost commented on her dad playing a part in a show that took place in the south, as a form of small talk. She gave herself a skeptical look, was she starting to grow soft? She never talked about her family, and the rare times she did it certainly was never about her step-father.

Must have been an effect of being around wheat people too often. Abigail shook the strange sensation off of herself.

"I'm sure a lot of girls around here are virgins, not by choice or beliefs. But because of dads with shotguns." Abigail commented, her focus was now on the streets ahead. There was a sign in English, and Abigail felt relief. "There!" She pointed towards the sign. "...Hal's House of Hair?" She read the sign aloud. Was it a wig shop? A barber? A weird guy who just was advertising his home to be full of hair? "Well... the owner probably speaks English. I guess."

"Hal's House of Hair... Okay. I've seen weirder things. Let's go to the hair house." Asina said, tilting her head slightly to the right as she read the sign. It was hard to tell what was in the hair house from here, she couldn't see the windows yet. To be honest, it was probably a good thing she was distracted by that or she would have ended up asking about the shotguns. Abby always seemed to look down on her for not being 100% 'with the times.' It was hard, though, to be up with the times. It kept changing. And in the past hundred years or so, drastically.

Asina and Abby walked towards Hal's, Mr. Angry Face unhappily ruffling his feathers at the smell. It smelled like shampoo. And lots of it. Like that really nice shampoo. Also ammonia? Asina managed to get a glimpse through the window. It really was a house of hair. It was a salon, beauty shop and wig store all rolled into one. Asina's eyes caught sight of a wig and she almost squeed with excitement. The impulsive part of her grabbed Abby's arm, tugging on her sleeve. "I could totally rock the purple hair. Whatcha thing? Wouldn't it be totally groovy?"

Abigail looked into the window, next to Asina. The streets were getting more crowded, though the ratio of Asian people to Caucasian people was beginning to even out more and more. More and more people were wearing those cowboy hats too, it was enough to make Abigail shudder at the thought that she used to love wearing them in high school. It turned out that her beloved fashionable headgear was nothing but a trend for older men.

If she lived as a hunter for a hundred years, she'd pick it up again then.

She felt her arm get a tug and Abigail nearly yanked out her knife in panic. When she realized it was Asina, she settled down again. It was a strange sensation, and she hadn't ever thought about it, but most of her physical contact with people and animal alike was in violence. Abigail was getting ready to tell Asina that nobody has said the word "groovy" in decades, but she oddly enough couldn't bring herself to say it. There was an odd glimmer in Asina that Abigail rarely saw. The elder hunter was normally so focused on her task, a trait that her and Abigail shared.

"I say go for it." Abigail said, eyeing the purple wig. It was an odd thing to imagine, Asina with purple hair, though she'd seen plenty of odd things during her demigod-career. "It gives us an excuse to go in and ask where we are, hopefully without looking insane. Context clues could help. Or, worst case scenario, we do ask what city we're in, look insane, then walk out."

Asina let out a rather dignified whoop, sounding more like a 16 year old being given permission to borrow the car than an age old hunter of monsters. She scurried into the shop, looking at the wig lustfully. To be honest, hair dyes and bright colored wigs were one of the best things to come out of the past few centuries. She had always found her hair to be dark and bland, though she may go back to it in a few decades.

The purple wig was fairly short, but not entirely her hair style. She liked the spiky hair that would have made her mother die from shame. It was rebellious. Although, not as much now. No one called her a harlot on the streets anymore. Her eyes caught the boxes of brightly colored hair dyes that were near the bright wigs as well. Mr. Angry-Face seemed to know what she was thinking and hooted disapprovingly.

Which is when the owner, she guessed at least, popped his head out. "Is that an owl?"

"Aye, Mr. Angry Face. Abby, will you ask the nice man for directions posthaste while I just..." She waved at the boxes of hair dyes. "I can't decide." She said excitedly, stroking Mr Angry Face's head around his earholes.

Abigail's expression morphed into what she can only assume was internet-meme worthy. Abigail panicked, though she managed to get her typical "I'm calm and collected" look on her face. Her confidence was all fake though; she so rarely needed to associate with mortals besides for hunters, let alone depend on them. She thought back to her fairly recent days as a more typical demigod who often associated in social situations. What the heck was she supposed to say when there was a cotton-candy haired girl with an owl on her shoulder next to her? Sure, neon blue didn't look all that intimidating, but the monsters had never taken it as a sign of weakness. Based on her experience with Asina, Abigail had to give some credit to the monsters.

"She's..." Abigail was dumbfounded for that single moment. Her manipulative skills always worked when she figured out some random nonsense to speak. "She's from Yorkshire. It's a very eccentric city in the United Kingdom..." Abigail bluffed. It wasn't like the two of them were doing anything illegal, although maybe Asina had some trouble with the law a some point, though Abigail simply wanted to appear normal enough to get directions. "We uh, drove in last night. I don't actually think I'm in the right city. So, I guess I'm trying to ask... where are we?"

The owner of the store, who Abigail assumed could only be 'Al,' simply stood there with a continuous expression of confusion. For the amount of time he spent staring, you'd have thought he was a statue. "We're in Houston.... Texas?" The man asked, clearly unable to understand how someone could enter such a large city without knowing. Abigail was mentally slapping herself, she could have come up with a better excuse. Amnesia? Accidental skydive somehow? Kidnapped?

Maybe that one could get out of hand.

Asina listened to the conversation as she picked up a couple of boxes of dye, then the purple wig and bounced over to the counter. "County of Yorkshire, not city. That would be like Leeds. Nice place. Nice people. Strangely high amount of crime. Ought to go back to the pillory, eh?" She said, smiling as she put her purchases down and opened her leather scrotum to pull some bills out.

"Yorkshire. Leeds. Harry Potter real big there or something?"

Asina paused, looking confused. She shot a look to Abigail, hoping the younger Hunter would clue her in. The Hunter forced a smile, "Oh, yes, Harry Potter is, uh, very big. Insanely popular. Everyone loves Harry Potter. Some want him to run for Prime Minister. Wishful thinking."

Abigail's eyebrows had perked up for a moment, she was pleasantly surprised that Asina had heard of Harry Potter. Abigail wasn't a fan; it was far too sappy and mislead a generation of people into thinking the power of loving people was enough to stop dark genocide. Regardless, it was a big part of pop-culture, and Abigail was happy to see Asina had been doing her homework.

At least until she said that many people wanted Harry Potter to run for Prime Minister.

Abigail's jaw dropped, only for a moment, though it was still something that never happened to her. The owner of the store laughed at Asina's comment, while Abigail still had no words. She put on her brave face; it was time to get this train on the tracks.

"She sure knows how to make jokes..." Abigail said, her tone desperate. "But that's enough about Harry Potter. I can't stand watching those movies." Abigail was pretty abrasive with the word "movies." The owner at this point was beginning to raise eyebrows of his own. He was in customer service, Abigail mused, there was no way he hadn't seen weirdos before.

Asina heard movies and shrugged a little. "Sometimes the people who don't exist are better options than the ones that do." She said as she handed the man his money.

"That's true enough I guess. I think Harry Potter would be a little young for Prime Minister still, though. Can I get a name and phone number from you?"

"Oh, you flatter me. The name is Paula Titiana Asina, and I do not have a phone number which I can regularly be reached at. The government, they like to track everything. All 1984 and that sort of stuff. Better to stay off the grid. Last time I talked to the government for any length of time they decided I was crazy." Asina said, stilll smiling brightly at the man.

The owner gave an awkward chuckle, then looked at Abigail. "Imagine that. Well, um, here's your change. Have a nice day."

The owner made it a point to walk away from the counter after the transaction was finished; Abigail didn't blame him. She intended to have a serious talk about all of that. Though if there was one bright side, and there was, it was the name Abigail had used. Was her name actually Paula?

Abigail quite literally grabbed Asina by the arm and guided her out of the store. They were back on the streets, with at least an idea of where they were. In terms of progress, they had made some. In terms of sanity, Abigail could feel that hers was slowly beginning to untie its own laces.

Once they were outside, Abigail could finally openly speak again. "Okay. Two things. First, how have you possibly not heard of Harry Potter? That annoying kid is glued practically everywhere! Second of all, how could you tell another human being that the last time "you spoke to the government for any period of time" that they declared you as crazy? There's no other way to make you look more insane!" Abigail exclaimed, though only in a hushed tone, as to keep attention away from them. "You do remember that I look older than you, right? You look sixteen, maybe even younger with that hair. You sounded like you'd just broken out of the loony bin! You can't say things like that, it's going to land us in weird places." Abigail insisted.

"Two? Paula? Are you actually serious, Paula is your name? You sound like you're in your late sixties. Is there anything you need before we take off, Paula? Fake teeth? A letter from your son who secretly is annoyed by having to write you? Or maybe an annoying little statuette for you to over-collect?"

Asina started at Abigail with look of utter befuddlement. "I swore an oath to Artemis almost two thousand years ago to never have congress with a male, I don't have a son. And I am far over sixty." Asina said both defensive and confused. "And what is wrong with Paula? It isn't a bad name. A little dull. Doesn't really fit me. No one has called me Paula on a regular basis for over a century and a half. The only person alive today who used to is Aria. That is why I respond to my cognomen."

Abigail returned a look towards Asina, a defiant one. "Paula is an intensely bad name!" Abigail exclaimed to the other hunter. "Go ask anyone in the streets! I'll give you fifty chances to ask people on the streets if their name is Paula. I guarantee you that none of them will say it is." Abigail insisted. A sigh followed, Abigail often felt frustration to her superior hunter because of her lack of understanding of sarcasm. This was certainly one of those times.

"Asina, you need to learn sarcasm." Abigail bluntly stated. "The joke is that literally no one has been named Paula in forever, which makes it a funny name. In fifty or sixty years come back to see me, because the name Abigail will probably be out of order by then. The jokes is that it makes you sound old, which makes me question your habits of a typical stereotype of an old woman, but only in a humorous way. Sarcasm is a vital social element of modern day." Abigail insisted.

"Let's just keep moving. We're in Dallas. Where should we be heading?" Abigail asked with a sigh.

Asina rubbed the bridge of her nose. She understood sarcasm, she understood the concept of sarcasm, but it was difficult for her to realize it was being used sometimes. "Abby, I...no, never mind. People still name their children Paula? It was boring a thousand years ago. It's literally the feminine of Paul. I don't look like a Paul. Pauls have beards. I only wear a beard when I'm mocking your pantheon on improv night."

She looked around, then tilted her head to the side for a few moments. "I thought we were in Houston? And I think we should try to head somewhere dark. Or somewhere with food. Houston has Mexican restaurants, right? Those are spicy. I love spicy food. Can we find a taco truck? And then somewhere dark. Because Mr. Angry-Face and I are not fans of bright light. Stupid Apollo mess. After food I might be able to jump us again, but...I don't know."