-Tickets Tickets Curses-

The sight before them keeps them rooted in their spot. Feet resting on glowing petals, and the scent is still thick and heavy in the air. That scent more than anything else is what they focus on, heavy in the air, and pungent. Still, that scent is what keeps them there more than anything else, it's weirdly nostalgic...

Even if they're not able to fully describe it even to themself, it's just marigolds.

Perhaps it's a little dusty, a little musky, something that one might associate with a funeral... but that's fitting for where they seem to be. And they almost step forwards, eyes drawn to the lights, buildings stacked upon buildings beyond the gateway station area right in front of them. Bridges, other bridges made from the same petals, cascading waterfalls of marigold that tumble down into the abyss to disappear beside them... But they can't.

They're rooted to the one spot. Eyes darting trying to take in everything, and mind screaming that it has to be a dream. It can't be real. It's impossible.

"And remember to return before sunrise. Enjoy your visit!"

The overhead announcement is enough to startle them. A slight flinch, pulling back and several steps back across the bridge. Away from the station in front of them. Away from the familiar place that is only familiar because they have seen it so many times in the past few weeks. Rewatch after rewatch of their latest obsession really.

A Pixar family film.

So they have to be dreaming.

But still.

They can feel the stares of the skeletons around them, feel the confusion, shock and maybe a bit of fear. After all, they are still obviously alive. And more telling, they probably don't look Mexican in the least. They're very much white, pale and milky... at least it's not sickly. But they have a cream complexion, and it's with some self-consciousness that they drop down into the petals of the bridge beneath them and tug the hood of their theorist hoodie up to cover their curls. Teeth begin to worry at their lip and their eyes dart around trying to find something, anything else that might prove this is a dream.

Their hands move, finding purchase on the straps of their backpack and clutching tight. A few seconds later they see a familiar red hood. Miguel, and considering that. Their eyes drift to the side, to the Departures gate and as if he had been waiting for a cue. For them to look his way...

"Yes, it is I. Frida Kahlo." Hector's there, just stepping up in that familiar disguise. An almost hysterical sounding bark of a laugh manages to break from their throat as they stare, witnessing one of the scenes from the movie in person. "Shall we skip the scanner? I'm on so many ofrendas, it'll just overwhelm your blinky thingie..." They can't help but grin at the words, the terminology that he uses. Blinky thingy indeed. They step forwards at the harsh sound of rejection, mouthing along with the Departures Agent, they know the lines.

"Well shoot. Looks like no one put up your photo," the pause and the smug way that the name is said "Frida..."

"Okay, when I said I was Frida... just now? That... that was a lie. And I apologize for doing that." The small movements, the awkwardness of just admitting that it was a lie. Their feet go from the petals to full concrete almost without them noticing as the Agent reminds him of the rules.

"No photo on an ofrenda, no crossing the bridge."

"You know what, I'm just gonna zip right over, you won't even know I'm gone." His casual way of slipping past, just slightly, an awkward shrug and forced grin and they find themself nodding their head eagerly, continuing to move closer even as he finally darts. Bolting towards them, towards the bridge.

A guard races in to try and stop him, but the conclusion is already forgone to them. It fails and there is a triumphant "Ha ha!" from the shabby skeleton as he continues forwards, only for him to spot them and they can't help but burst into laughter as he practically trips over himself. Caught between a knee-jerk reaction and his focus on his goal. His attempt to reach the bridge conflicting with a reaction to their being alive.

What ends up happening is he slides for a moment, before stumbling and trying to plow on ahead anyway. Only sinking, and their laughter quickly dies, replaced immediately with the drive to help him...

"Almost there, just a little further...!" he pushes, tries so hard, and they step forwards, with all the intent in the world to help him.

They weren't expecting to join him in sinking into the petals. Their feet go straight through the petals when they step forwards into the bridge rather than on it. Their head instantly snaps down in bewildered confusion, another step, they're... they're sinking? They don't think, instead bolting for themself, and promptly find themself slamming into the petals their feet unable to find any purchase as the petals beneath them shift and slip away.

Which lands them right beside their sunken companion of a skeleton, just a few steps ahead of the guards who're already crossing over to them.

"Upsy-daisy..."

"Well..." they huff as skeletal hands also haul them up alongside Hector. "That's the sweet, sweet scent of failure right there..." And they have to cough a little, blowing harshly to clear the petals from their mouth, it leaves a weird taste in their mouth, somewhat bitter. Not entirely horrible though...

"Fine, okay. Fine, who cares..." their companion seems to have a few more words, straining slightly and shaking his fist as he yells at the stupid bridge. "Dumb flower bridge!"

"Dumb! Flower! Bridge!" they agree with him, shouting the words before yanking themself away slightly. But they can't quite get their feet under them, so they have no choice but to let themself be led away(although it's more be dragged away) into the Department. And people are staring at them, more obviously now. They have no clue if it's for the same reasons as earlier though.

They're a stranger in a strange land, still alive, but also not Mexican at all.

Yet they haven't struggled to understand anyone yet. Maybe it's because they've been covered in marigolds for the most part, they're already planning on shoving a whole bunch of them into their backpack. Just in case, besides they don't yet know or understand why they're here yet. Is this a curse? A dream(something that they're getting less and less sure of because while this can't be real, it's a bit too focused...), they followed Marigolds here!

They think it's a curse, but what did they steal?

The red book, they don't know where that came from. It's just kind of there.

But they do know what it is, vaguely. And that knowledge makes something curl in their stomach, an uncomfortable twist that causes them to want to rub their arms. Anxiously, awkwardly jolting, jerking for no reason aside shivers.

The skeleton who tumbled in the marigolds with them(Hector) is led off in another direction. Away from them. And something in them screams as they watch him being led away. So they begin to scream, struggling against the hands holding them until they're unceremoniously dropped into a chair in a small officer room. Their pack is taken away from them and in more than a small huff they curl up and glare at the skeleton who takes a seat across from them.

As the officer talks they spend the entire time glaring, not really listening to the words that they're saying because these people know nothing.

Nothing.

Then again they barely know anything, as the officer keeps talking their glare slides away and their arms drop down. A tremble goes through them and they find themself chewing their bottom lip nervously, eyes darting quickly from side to side, observing the room before glancing out the window.

Colourful creatures flit through the air. Alebrijes, animals that are combinations of creatures that they couldn't even... Wait! They are on their feet within a heartbeat, ignoring the officer's yelp as they dart to the window and press their hands against the glass. Eagerly they splay their hands and squish their face close, eyes searching for the creature that had caught their attention.

For a heartbeat they can't see it, and they deflate, disappointment curling up in their belly before there is a darting movement and right in front of them, flipping excitedly in the air is a mostly canine figure.

"Obi!" they laugh, recognizing the dog, even with the differences. And what differences they are, humming iridescent wings, and sharp dragon like claws on her front paws, a longer tail, with a rattle on the end. But still mostly canine, still obviously a dog, a loyal companion. The alebrije lets out a sharp bark, that's not entirely right, but still. "Obi!"

"Is that your Alebrije?" the officer is frowning at them and they lean away from the window for a moment to peer at the skeleton.

"Well, I don't know about her being an Alebrije exactly... but yeah. That's Obi!" there's a warmth in them, and they find themself happily humming and bouncing slightly on the spot. "She's my dog... well was my dog, she died a while back though, in..." they trail off, the pain raising up sharp and acute, choking the words before they can properly find them.

The moment hurts still, even if it was quick, easy. Painless.

Not at all like the death of...

They wince.

"Anyway..." the officer sighs, drawing their attention back to the matter at hand, the papers that the officer is looking over. "There are a few things we clearly need to discuss, aside your behaviour." They snort, rolling their eyes, and the officer frowns at them. To which they only offer a cheeky smile. "Causing a disruption of Bridge Traffic, Attempting to illegally cross the bridge without proper clearance, fleeing an officer, stealing-"

"Hey, Hey! Wait a minute!" they interrupt the officer, they can accept all the other things, because they probably did do at least some of those things. Although belatedly they do wonder exactly how they were supposed to get proper clearance to cross the bridge when they weren't even from Mexico...

And also weren't dead so likely didn't have a photo... but still that begs the question of why they were falling through the bridge in the first place. They rapidly shake their head, forcing their mind back on track, and slamming their hands down onto the desk in front of them, before pointing right at the officer.

"I didn't steal anything!" they declare, jabbing their finger forwards before pushing themself back and rocking on their heels. "I try not to make it a habit of doing anything more illegal than watching a movie on my computer at midnight..." they shake their head, and clap their hands once, making sure to hold the officers attention as they rest one hand on their chest and motion. Sweeping a few of the petals still clinging to them off and onto the floor. "I merely followed the trail of marigolds that appeared in my room... that's all!"

By the flat look they're receiving they can tell that the officer doesn't really believe them and they huff. Shaking their head.

"Look! I'm telling the truth okay, I haven't stolen anything, at least... not on purpose..." awkwardly they shuffle, hands twitching slightly. "A-and anyway... it wasn't even close to Dia de Muertos... last I checked it was the Sixth of July..." and isn't that a huge difference, what a leap to make. Oh and one more thing to add onto that. "2018."

"tira el otro, tiene campanas." Now it's the officer's turn to snort.

"Hey! I'm telling the truth!" they say. Maybe they don't know exactly what the officer is saying but they know that tone. The look. "I am... as unbelievable as it may sound..."

"Si, si... Whatever you say Muchacha" They huff. "So, what did you steal?"

"I don't know!" they throw their hands up in the air with some added drama before lowering them down and repeating with a lower, softer voice. "I... don't know..." because really the songbook can't count, can it? It was just there in their backpack, they didn't put it there, therefore they weren't the one who stole it, someone else did.

Or something.

"Uhm... Maybe... maybe I'm here because of something more abstract?" they hedge, crossing their arms and awkwardly tapping their fingers against one. "I mean... I'm Australian, and don't have much experience with stuff like this... at least, not beyond watching the television, and most of the 'Mexican' things on that are well..." they make a sound that's basically the equivalent of saying not all that great and wave their hand awkwardly in the air in a so-so motion.

The officer just continues to look unimpressed with them and they grin, a really uncomfortable feeling stirring in their belly. They can see through their fingertips, see the gleaming white of bone and that's... disquieting.

Also a detail that they're not so sure that their brain would put in a dream.

"But anyway... considering I've watched those things, Dora the Explorer, GO Diego Go... and similar shows... Maybe..." they pause. "Maybe I'm here because of Cultural Appropriation?"

There's an awkwardly long pause that follows and they find themself closing their eyes and ducking their head, not quite wanting to see exactly what kind of response that statement has gotten them. Especially because they know that the term is one of those really, really hard to define ones.

What is cultural appropriation.

What isn't?

How much of it is crying wolf, or crying thief as it may be.

As they wonder, an example, an explanation comes to their mind. A reminder from tumblr that they still aren't sure if the ever wound up reblogging. The discussion of Nightmare Before Christmas and the way that represented the topic. It's unfortunate, that it's not a movie that they have yet seen. It's on their list, but they still haven't quite found the right moment to watch it.

But they know the plot of that movie at least. And Jack.

Who doesn't know Jack Skellington?

Almost absently they begin to hum that oh so familiar song, boys and girls of every age...

There's a snort that breaks the silence and they open their eyes back up to see the officer shaking their head. They huff slightly at that, because that's the best that they have.

"I'm sorry, but that's all I've got..." they admit. "I didn't steal anything otherwise, and people are always complaining about Cultural Appropriation... so hey... vaguey mc'vagueness aside, it might be an explanation..."

"If that were the case muchacha I can assure you we would have a lot more gringos appearing here..." the officer says with a dry rolling drawl and they pause. Considering the point.

"Okay... so maybe not that then..." they acquiesce, with a jerky nod. There goes that idea. "But still, in that case... What did I steal?"

The officer stares at them as they jerkily begin to tap a foot against the ground, trailing off into muttering to themself. Words and mumbles, snippets of their daydreams, speculation about the origins thing, at least a mention of the songbook and suitcase dream, but that was a dream and while the songbook was now in their pack... That doesn't count, they refuse to count it because they didn't touch it... what else?

Old coins? No they haven't got any.

They have literally nothing. Maybe... Maybe there's something in the papers that the officer has on the desk around them. Awkwardly they cut off their muttering and look up at the officer. A lick of the lips and a swallow.

"Uh... what exactly is it that I've supposedly stolen? Can someone please fill me in on that... because I don't know how to get home without knowing what got me here!"

Because obviously, they had to have stolen something... otherwise they wouldn't be here, right?

Right?

What were they doing right before the marigolds appeared? Sleeping, before that watching Coco, surely there's an explanation. They had to have...

The officer is frowning, brow ridge drawing tight and mouth set in a firm line. There's something in the officers eyes that makes their heart pound as they flip the sheets and bewilderedly shake their head. This can't be good. And that's when the announcement goes out.

"All Officers Report for duty in locating a missing living child, twelve, last seen in a red hoodie, goes by the name Miguel!"

And... the Officer leaves them alone.

They could wait... they could leave the plot alone, but...

They glance around, nervously considering their options. They've been left alone, and while they are pretty good with following the law. They are pretty clueless about this situation, with no real idea of how they got here, not really, but at the same time... They do have an idea of what might send them home, maybe.

They move swiftly, grabbing their pack where it rests, and sneaking out of the room. Not that they're really that sneaky but...

They make it to the main hallway just in time to see a familiar skeleton get yanked and just dragged straight into a nearby phonebooth. And now that it's not on a screen, they actually wince because oh, that doesn't look fun at all. Still they give a quick glance around, pull up their own hood, and walk casually straight to the booth.

Opening it is easy, and with an awkward grin, they step in.

"So... is this a private party? Or can anyone join?"