IMPORTANT AN:
It was horrible of me to be gone so long, but REALLY long story short I've been in a depressive funk for a while. With the pandemic going on I am inside because I am a person with horrible health (Asthma, Poor Immune System, very bad). Also, I'm nearly flunking as my grades have hit rock bottom. I'll try to update because there is no way in hell I'm abandoning this fic, but I can't make any promises that it will be soon. With that said, I'll get off my soap box and write a random drabble of something related to the fic. I am working on the next chapter, but can't give any guarantee of it being well written or published anytime soon.

October 31st, 2017. (Land of the Dead, Dia de los Muertos, Meeting Imelio Scene (?)

Michaela felt timid, like a meek rabbit cowering before a snarling wolf ready for it's next meal. The man turned towards her and his brown eyes narrowed. He was taller, taller than Papa Julio but not quite as tall as her (The elder) twin tíos. It starkly reminded her of Victor actually. That stunning realization and awe swiftly congested into a car sized stone was dropped into her stomach as her heart tried to climb up into her throat.

Papa Imelio, the man who had held the Rivera Family together, who her grandmother practically worshiped as a god, was standing right before her. The man responsible for the century-long ban on music. He was taller than the teenager had expected, at least a foot taller than her. He was dressed nicely. A purple vest over a black shirt, casual slack pants and pristine Rivera brand boots on his feet. He looked like he was prepared to go on a casual date or something. If Michaela were to say if anything were out of place, it would be the Rivera Workshop apron he wore that was slightly painted grey with dust. It fit with his outfit, but in a way that would seem odd if anyone else tried it.

He looked...young. From what she had heard before, his voice had a slight rasp brought about by age, but it was deep and would send vibrations down the spine of anyone who heard it. Instead of the warm flesh and soft tanned skin his face had, his hands were thin and bony in quite the literal sense. They were made of white bone without tissue or tendon or flesh, pristine and shining white in color unlike the yellowed bone leg of the girl she had seen falling through the marigold bride a few minutes before. Absentmindedly, she wondered why the dead looked only like partial skeletons.

Everyone she had passed by looked mostly living if it weren't for the odd leg or hand or arm of bone. Some looked far worse off though. Taking that girl from earlier as an example, her left arm and right leg both were nothing but bone! They were yellowed too like old crooked teeth which hadn't seen a toothbrush or toothpaste in too many years. Was it because people were remembered as they were when alive even though they dead are portrayed as skeletons in figurines and murals? That was the only thing Michaela could think of to explain why a man who died at 75 (76?) didn't look a day older than his early 20's except for a streak of gray hairs amidst the black. Unless he die - dyed - his hair.

AUTHOR NOTE:

For those of you who dislike (or don't understand) what's going on here, I'll explain. At this point, Michaela had been cursed and brought to the Land of the Dead. Victoria has a twin brother named Victor as well. This is because I wanted to have twins skip generations in the family (unless you headcanon Julio and Rosita as twins). I only did this for the selfish reason that I, myself, am a twin. Victor inherited his height from Imelio and that is what Michaela notices. Also, I don't know if people will like this or not, but I have this headcanon that people in the land of the dead are partially skeletal and still partially 'human'.

People are remembered as they were in life and the ofrendas also carry photos of how they looked in life, but I commonly see spirits represented by skulls and skeleton forms. So I just kind of mashed them together. When I think of the genderbent AU (or AU's of my AU), I always thought of them as only being partly skeletal and it just ended up sticking (and I'm too lazy to correct any writing where I depict the skeleton spirits with skin because I have needed to rewrite entire chapters on that before deleting them because they didn't match the plot that I forgot about).

The forgotten have yellowed, weakened, broken bones that are more visible because they are being forgotten. People who knew them in life are forgetting them and far to often the forgotten have no photos on an ofrenda. Can you guys guess who the girl Michaela is referring to? Probably, but I'm curious on whether people are still waiting for updates or just passing by. If so, Hi. You may be in for a long time waiting on updates because I am weak willed and have no willpower whatsoever at the moment. Bye, and be safe in this wacky modern world we're living in.

I also did upload this before, but took it down briefly because it felt like I was spoiling future plot points. I decided to reupload it to prove that I will eventually update the story though. I'm already working on the next chapter.