#venturingmuses

Even though he’d known the truth, it had done nothing to settle his troubled state. Piecing himself together, Hèctor was left alone to mull over his dismal fate. To be stuck in this cenote; thrown in by a man he’d once trusted. Betrayed him. He finally snapped his last bone into place, struggling to stand properly. He’d finally gotten himself up when he heard something. Something he shouldn’t have heard. Chamaco?

Sketch commission of @venturingmuses‘ / @kcpawz‘s OC Agnis!

Lovely surprise from Kit 6 o 6

She laughs slightly, making her way over to where he is, sitting a bit apart from him, legs tucked under.

"Hm, I believe 'witch things' got delayed til 3AM." She jokes back, pretending to check her phones reminders. Pocketing the device, Ella offers him a gentle smile. "Besides I like checking on you- especially when you're looking so distant."

“Hector…”

Miguel placed a hand on his shoulder bone and looked over the skeleton with a look of concern he just couldn’t shake, despite Hector’s attempt to reassure him. It sure looked like it hurt, even for a dead guy, almost making Miguel’s stomach twist and his hand gripped at Hector’s shoulder just a little more.

“Then… Then come on. Stand up. You gotta..”

Miguel had such a kind heart. It was endearing to see and also slightly sad. How could someone related to a man so self absorbed be so selfless? He glanced down at the long crack running up his tibia. The bone had cracked in a fissure fashion, pieces of bone left along the ground. Hèctor’s smiling act had given way to the pain. He lied for the sake of keeping Miguel at ease.

Two in the morning, she had long since insisted that it was a task she could do without supervision. Her boss would insist assistance with any employee, but as Maggie held a defensive background -- and their only other back-up had to go home and help his sick kid -- it was only her that evening. Which is why as her eyelids heavily peeked open, the blurriness slowly trying to clear through darkness, her first thought was did I lock the back door? 

She makes ever slight movements to figure out her surroundings through hints of dim lighting. No movement aside from her own, yet the sick feeling of panic begins to scatter through her nerves. A quick motion of sitting up had her head lop into her lap as a heavy pain pulsates to life. She must have been knocked unconscious, or at least thrown into this room, hitting her head. “--Ah!” she groans, holding her head as if afraid it would burst otherwise.

“Cute indeed. Just absolutely wonderful toss there. 10/10. Do it again.”

“HELENA! That’s not cute - it’s awful, he could be seriously injured!!!”

“But look how adorable he is after getting hit by that trash can! Don’t you find it cute?”

“Not in the slightest - Ichiro’s the cutest when- I mean you’re wrong okay?”

“Sure I am...not.”