They're on a beach now. It's a lovely day! There are people around, all of them wearing wooden medallions. Most of them seem to be hunting for clams. At least, that's what they're doing before they notice the ATV and turn and stare. The adults urge the children to keep their distance.

Wait what - 

Cooper and Anna May aren't here, Blair's somewhere weird - they were in the mountains, how'd they get to the beach -

They're still kinda drunk, but they're able to realize that apparently three people adding random ass designs to a ATV results in teleportation.

"Uh. Howdy y'all. Sorry 'bout that, was playing with a new design. Uh. Where am I?" they call out in English (not remembering to activate their communication tattoo, they hardly use it).

Panicked foreign language! Confused foreign language?

One man tries a different foreign language.

...Not America probably then. Ahhhh they are way too drunk for this.

They touch their tattoo, a curling musical staff, a treble clef by their ear and notes spilling down to their throat. It glimmers briefly, then they clear their throat and say, "Uh. Sorry. New design went kinda topsy turvey. ...Where am I?"

A young woman glances at the others and takes several steps toward Blair. "We call this place Acarthen," she says. "Who gave you our language?"

"I've got a communication tattoo. Haven't heard of Acarthen, what country's that?"

She shares a glance with an older woman before answering.

"Acarthen is the country. Who granted you your communication tattoo?"

"Uh." They try to remember. "Artist was with Body Art Tattoos? Or something like that. Is this somewhere in Europe?"

"You are not in Europe anymore," says the older woman. "What god makes your tattoo work?"

"Uh. No. I'm from Appalachia. In America. No god? Or, like, the God, depends on who you ask I guess. It's just magic? A craft, you know? Made me better at being myself." They'd thought it'd make them a better singer, 'communicate with everyone' had been a kinda weird effect.

"What kind of craft? Who can do that kind of craft? Why aren't you sure if it's a gift from your god?"

"...All crafts? Everyone? And uh, I am way too drunk for theology."

"Here no one knows how to do any magic. Can we learn to do yours?"

"Not sure. If you don't already have it."

"You mentioned 'the' god earlier. Which one is that?"

"...The. Abrahamic one?"

"Doesn't have a name? What do you carry for your Abrahamic god?"

"Uh. Do you not know what Christianity is. Christians and Jews and Muslims believe there's one God, therefore He doesn't need a name? And those're the Abrahamic religions. I think. And what do you mean, 'what do I carry.'"

Ah where are they. These're humans, they look human, the air's breathable, the chance of a tricked out ATV teleporting them to another planet is ridiculous.

They could ask for a star chart or something, except they don't know a single damn constellation except the Dippers and Orion and not seeing those wouldn't rule out shit.

"Who told you there was only one god? There are at least half a dozen. And I mean what you carry from your god. Like this, I wear this for Forth." She holds up her pendant.

"I. Used to have a cross pendant my gran got me? When she decided I was being a rebellious heathen? But that wasn't from God unless everything is. We. Don't interact with Him. Like not provably."

"Ah. Huh. We interact with Forth. Provably."

"...I think I want a star chart. And maybe a glass of water and somewhere to sober up."

Drinking and crafting: not trying that again, but no amount of coulda woulda shoulda's is gonna get them out of this pickle they're in.

"I don't know what a star chart is but you can have a rest anywhere you like as long as you're not in anyone's way and have someone bring you some water." To one of the children: "Ofrec! Get our guest some water!"

No star charts. Okay. Low tech, humanish aliens. With actual gods and weird magic.

They get off their ATV and examine it a bit. It's faded, the paint already flaking and the rhinestones coming loose. It might not be safe to ride, let alone try a repeat. And they can't just repair it, trying the same design twice is bad luck and worse if you're playing high-stakes.

Plus, the craft mead they were all drinking might've played a role, craft alcohol does weird things to magic which someone should've remembered.

"Uh. I reckon it's probably a bad idea for anyone to mess with this. Or touch it. Specially since y'all don't have the same magic? I'll. Try a new design later, see about getting home."

"How are you going to use that to get home?"