-Shut Your Trap-
By the time they reach the top of the ladder things have already progressed through the plot a bit. Hector's trying in vain to calm Ceci down, repeating her name softly, and Miguel's wandered off. It leaves them feeling odd, because wow, that moved quick. As it is, Obi's still there, happily wriggling and bouncing around between Hector and Ceci.
They clear their throat, deciding that they're-
"Ay! A Gringa!" they blink, before rolling their eyes.
"100% Aussie actually, mate!" the tone is more of a tease really, and the dressmaker narrows her eyes at them, judging for a moment. "What?" they awkwardly fiddle with their straps again under the skeleton's gaze. Before she's looking back at Hector who's offering a sheepish grin.
There's some silent communication and the next thing they know; Ceci is groaning, rolling her eyes, and they're being yanked across the room and sat down. The dressmaker gives them a critical look and they just stare, in the background Hector has finally noticed that Miguel's missing. They see him spin around, looking for the boy before he's racing off to go search.
And they're left there...
Facing a paintbrush.
"Uh... y'know, I don't really need-" they're cut off by a hand gently cupping their chin. They sigh, and let the brush paint over their face. White and black, a couple of colours here and there. Dots in blue, yellow and green. A flourish and a swish and they're released, able to look at themself in a mirror.
It's almost a perfect disguise, and luckily in their case their ears can mostly be hidden by their hair. As long as nobody's looking too closely anyway. They still sigh, blinking before awkwardly smiling at the one who'd done up their face.
"Anyway... I really should be going, I need to stick with Hector and Miguel... Gracias!" they bolt. Obi yapping in the background and Ceci calling after them, sounding scolding, but they're not listening. They need to get back to the plot. Get back to events on track. Of course darting through a warehouse with people moving and shifting things is a challenge all of its own. They find themself slipping around the corners, and their balance is slightly offset by their pack. Still they skid into the room just in time to hear Hector.
"Hey Gustavo! You know anything about this party?" Oh boy, this is going to go down fantastically, they can actually see the bullying coming even without already knowing the plot, the body language, it reminds them of school.
"It's the hot ticket. But if you're not on the guest list you're never getting in," there's this brief moment of pause before the mocking nickname is said "Chorizo..." It the tone that has them curling their hands, fists by their sides and they want to scream something in response, especially as all the others join in.
"Hey, it's Chorizo!/Choricito!" The laughter burns their ears, causing them to grit their teeth as they stride across with more confidence in their steps than they feel. Obi trails behind them, a small whimper coming from the canine, not that they pay attention.
"Ha ha, very funny guys. Very funny." The laughter only seems to grow, becoming stronger, even while Miguel expresses his confusion.
"Chorizo?"
"That's not a nice joke..." they mutter for themself, getting the innuendo and hating it. Gosh when did their mind get so dirty? Obi whines again in the background, edging forwards, even as Gustavo motions with his bow to Hector.
"Oh, this guy's famous! Go on, go on, ask him how he died!" Miguel turns to Hector and they themself huff, stepping forwards fully and giving the violinst a look that clearly says how they find that rude. Disrespectful.
"I-I don't want to talk about it."
"He choked on some CHORIZO!" They emphasis on the word makes them grimace, especially as the whole group of musicians burst into even more laughter, as if that were the funniest thing in the world. Even Miguel stifles a giggle, but it twists in their stomach. Especially because they know just how wrong it is. Obi lets out another whine, as Hector gets defensive.
"I didn't choke, okay!" he sounds so hurt and upset, but the laughter doesn't stop, if anything it only gets worse. "I got food poisoning!"
"Yeah, with emphasis on the poisoning" they think, almost absently rolling their eyes. The first sign that it wasn't as silent and in their head as they thought it was is the abrupt cut off of the laughter. No one is laughing anymore and almost nervously they raise their head up, to see that everyone is staring at them. Some with questions, some with horror and...
Oh, Hector looks confused, apprehensive and... is that a little bit of shocked anger?
Also, they realize they don't really have a way to cover themself for this do they?
Shit, why couldn't they just keep their trap of a mouth shut, and this is so much worse than-
"Milk... Wh-what does that mean?" Miguel's voice is small, nervous. Not really weak though, and they find themself frantically wracking their brain for something anything that they could say to explain themself. That's not a comment that can just be dismissed, not with how casually it slipped out. Not with how easily and naturally it rolled from their mouth.
Their instinct is really to turn around and run, but they squash that, taking a deep breath and hey it's that sound.
"Milk?"
"I-I can explain!" they frantically say, finding their feet are already moving them backwards even as Hector is pulling Miguel away from them, keeping himself between them and the child. Which fair enough. "Well..." no they really can't explain "I'm from 2018! That's the only reason I know that!" God, they're just digging that hole deeper now, if that explanation didn't work on the officer earlier, why are they even trying it now.
It just makes them look desperate, and guilty.
Maybe they should just run, then the plot can get itself back on track, at least they hope that it would.
"Are you crazy?!" Hector's sharp, pained voice hurts and they wince, finding their hands curling just slightly. "No morí ayer! Try another one!" he snaps and they find themself chewing slightly on their lower lip, Hector is firmly between them and Miguel now. Full protective papa mode, and to the side the musicians look like they're alternating between shock, horror, and disgust, also some realization.
"Hey! Hey! I'm telling the truth!" they say, a hand raking through their hair, scratching at their scalp nervously. "I'm really from next year, your death, the true one is plastered all over the news..." because you know, it had to have been. If it were revealed. Which at the very least in Santa Cecilia it appeared to have been, and celebrity skeletons usually created a media storm...
So they would assume that it would be everywhere.
"Mentiroso!" Miguel's joining in. And they find themself bristling, ignoring Obi as she darts forwards, their loyal companion trying to drag them away pulling at their pants.
"I. Am. Not!" they gesture widely. "I'm being perfectly honest! Not my fault this whole situation is unbelievable!" they growl, shifting themself forwards and pointing right at Miguel. "And look who's talking, thief! At least I didn't steal anything!" because yes, that's definitely the worse crime here. The twelve year old glares at them, and Hector's arm stretches out, defensively keeping Miguel behind him as they both step backwards further. Even they take a step backwards, body language defensive.
And they know that this is on them. This is all their fault, why couldn't they just keep their mouth shut.
For once.
"I... I'm not lying..." they deflate, all at once. "I... honestly you think I would- No wait, of course you would, we met literally tonight! I'm a stranger. And a foreigner..." their hands move to the straps of their backpack again. Clutching so tightly that the material is digging in, they're moving towards a ramble. "But I don't know what I can say, it was something I read, well, okay more watched, but that doesn't make any sense, can't make any sense, and I know the truth... all of it... but I'm unrelated to all that, honestly! I'm not a murderer, and I'm not related to one either... I'm just... a displaced foreigner who followed Marigolds and got cursed, that's all, I swear!"
By the way that they're being looked at they're sure that they were talking way too fast. Maybe only a handful of what they were saying broke through at all. Or maybe none of it.
"Come on!"
"I-I sorry Chica... But-"
"Fine!" they cut Hector off, releasing their straps and shaking their head. "Don't believe me! But you were murdered! And I can prove it!" wait, abort, abort! Their pack is already off their back, and they're unzipping the first middle compartment from the back, fishing around inside and muttering to themself. Shoving things to the side, and reaching for the familiar mocking songbook.
Only for their hand to freeze mere centimetres away from it.
Do they really want to pull it out?
Do they really want to potentially make the situation even worse. Their fingers twitch and with a sigh they pull their hand back out. Lowering their head, allowing their hair to flop slightly, curls framing their face.
"I... I guess I can't prove it..." their voice is low, soft. "But I know it's the truth, just as it's the truth that I'm from next year! And I really shouldn't be here!" They don't look at anyone. Only pulling their backpack back up, and hoisting it onto their back, hearing the strap's slight whine as it strains to hold itself together. "I'll just go... back to the Department and wait..." They don't belong here after all.
Obi whines, moving forwards, belly crawling and low, tail wavering just slightly. Rattling. It's a soft sound, could almost have been pleasant, but they can't-
"Wait! You didn't explain anything!" Miguel's voice stops them, and they don't turn around. "You've just spouted stories, claiming that you're from next year... that you... that Hector was-"
"Draw your own conclusions, kid..." they grumble, looking to the side at the musicians. There are a lot of witnesses around for this, it's making their stomach twist, a chill going down their spine. And also, they raise their hands almost subconsciously. They're able to see all their phalanges now. Their fingers are nothing more than bone.
"But... Milk you're-"
"I'm an Aussie! A foreigner! An Extranjera" And wow, they are surprised that they can remember albeit vaguely words like that. Here they thought that they had only retained counting and asking where to find a toilet, please and thankyou, no, and yes. The useful things. "And I have no proof, I'm cursed, my word really doesn't mean much, and apparently my head's off in the clouds as always..." making up stories, making up tales. "Just... Go find your great-great-grandpa kid... I'll just make my way back to the Department and wait it out... 's not like I know how I got here anyway..."
"Hey... But we can still-"
"Oh COME ON KID!" They swivel around and Miguel's right there, so close that they find themself yelping, scrambling backwards. One hand moving defensively to cover their chest, the other just seconds behind it. "When the HE- When did you get that close! For the love of- I could have smacked you with my backpack as I was turning! It's called personal space!"
"We... We can still help... I mean, I just need my great-great-grandpa's blessing, and obviously, if you know Hector was murdered..."
"Oh for crying out loud..." they shake their head, scratching one hand through their hair, eyes darting from Miguel to Hector. Hector who looks like he wants nothing more than to dart over there and drag Miguel back and away from them.
"I-I mean if that's true then..."
"It changes nothing!" they shout. Although it's a bit more strained than before. "It just means-"
"That you knew information that I didn't!" And now Hector's interjecting himself, finding his voice. "Which probably does have something to do with why you're here chica!" He's clearly nervous, not quite sure what he's saying and it's obvious. They roll their eyes. "But more to the point, if that's true... we, we'd have to go back to the department anyway-"
"Huh, wait why?" Miguel's interjection is mostly ignored.
"Ahh, yeah, there'd be paperwork for all this wouldn't there..." They grimace in time with Hector. Paperwork, it could be fun sometimes, but for the most part it was just a bit of a pain. "Argh... None of us have time for this! Me and the kid have until sunrise, and by the look of you, you probably don't have much longer than that either!" Hector looks somewhat guilty by their statement. And they can only offer a weak shrug, a strained grin. "So let's just... get back on track or... whatever..."
They've got the plot in mind. They've got that in mind, but it's obvious that things have somewhat taken a nose-dive. People are still looking their way, waiting to see exactly how this is going to unfold, where it's going to go.
"I mean, Miguel needs..." they let their sentence trail off, they can worry about themself later. They're twenty(they think, unless the time displacement/curse has also reversed them back to nineteen), so they're not as worried about dying young. Not really. "Let's just keep our eyes on one goal at a time..." Sure it would be bad if they died now, twenty is young, but... they wouldn't find it too unexpected.
Not really, aside the whole curse thing, there's also the fact that death would be a release. No more pain, no more suffering... They rapidly shake their head, shake themself, and force a grin onto their face looking at Miguel and Hector. Hector who looks like he wants to argue. Still he only sighs.
"So... How're we getting into this party then?"
"Well, if you really want to get to Ernesto, there IS that music competition at the Plaza de la Cruz. Winner gets to play at his party..." It seems like things are getting back on track then. And that's a relief.
"Alright... you know where-" They're cut off by Hector's interaction with Miguel. Seems that exchange hasn't really changed that much, despite the lead up drastically changing. But to be fair that seems like a minor hiccup.
"I need to get my great-great grandfather's blessing. You know where I can get a guitar?" Miguel's hands are the same as theirs, phalanges all visible.
"And an alto sax for me?" they pipe in, still going ahead. "You get me a notes sheet, and I'll be able to play whatever!" If that's an option, but they still remember vaguely how to read notes, and where they are and, hmm that would be interesting. "Miguel could sign up as one act, and I could be the backup plan..."
Hector squints at them, and Miguel lets out what could almost be a laugh, but there is still an obvious tension between the group, because they opened their mouth earlier and made things awkward by just automatically going for the joke.
At least, it's a joke when they're watching the movie, no harm there.
"Eheh... y'know... just in case anything goes wrong..."
There's a sigh, and Hector waves one hand around, he sounds all too resigned as he speaks.
"I know a guy..."
Obi yaps, tail wagging and rattling in her joy and they find themself grinning, even though they know exactly where they're going and what event awaits them there. They know what's coming but...
As Hector leads them back through the building towards an exit they feel prickling at their back. And glancing around, they're sure that people are staring at them. Maybe they're not the one who murdered Hector, but everyone seems to know that they knew he was a murder victim, and the gazes that linger on them are suspicious.
Judging them.
There is a sense of dominos in place, a feeling that something has been set in motion and-
There's something out of the corner of their eye that catches their attention. A darting shape, a glimpse of something and their head snaps around. The prickling feeling of something being set in motion feels stronger now. And they twist the right strap slightly in their hands before taking a deep breath. Giving one last glance in the direction of the movement, and racing off after Hector and Miguel.
For better or for worse, they have changed things.
All because they opened their mouth.
Now they can only pray that it's for the better, because if they've screwed things up. Well they might not be worried about their own life, but there's the life of a child, and the very existence of someone on the line here.
"Oh Kami..." they whisper, slipping back for a moment into their Otaku phase "please, please don't let me have ruined everything..."
Beside them, Obi lets out a whine, and they give a strained grin to the alebrije, before following Hector and Miguel out of the warehouse. Now, it's off to Shantytown...
Where Miguel's going to learn a lesson about mortality.
But not the mortality of the living...
But of the dead.