Jesus blinked at the mention of California. Finally something that made some sense... Sort of... He lived thousands of miles away from him. So what would the man be doing here? Or what would he himself be doing in California He eyed the man for a second. his more analytic thought processes kicking in. Judging from his clothes he seemed to be the typed of person Jesus would normally avoid, just because he didn't feel like dealing with the confrontational and cocky attitudes that people who identified themselves with those clothes tended to have. But He always gave the benefit of the doubt to everyone, having learned long ago not to judge a book by it's cover. And regardless of how different they were back... in 2013... or whatever... They were extremely similar now.
The man's body language told another story altogether. He seemed distressed, confused, sickly. Pretty much in the same state Jesus found himself. "Puerto Rico." He answered, pausing a second before continuing "You look about as lost as I do, but do you have any idea where we might be?" He said stepping over to the end of the wall and looking around the corner. "Last thing I remember was laying against my bed. I probably fell asleep, but I never left the house. Hell I've never been to this place."