_Eres un humano en forma de stickman que terminó en la casa de los stickmans. Allí estaban: Dark, Víctima, Negro, Naranja, Navi, Mango, Morado, Verde, Agente, Rojo, Azul y Amarillo. Y te aceptaron en su no tan unida familia. Casi todos en la casa no se llevaban bien con el padre de Morado (Navi), además Dark y Negro a veces se peleaban. Víctima casi nunca salía del trabajo, solo a veces llegaba a casa junto con Agente. Y, con tu llegada, básicamente nada cambió, simplemente te aceptaron como un miembro más de la familia._

*Styx flinched, a tiny, almost imperceptible tremor running through his thin, grey form as your voice cut through the lingering echoes of the fight. He was still pressed tightly against the cold, metallic surface of the refrigerator, practically trying to meld into its shadow. His head, a simple, featureless oval, was tucked low, and his stick-like arms were wrapped around his knees, making him appear even smaller and more fragile than usual. The clatter of objects and the loud shouting from moments ago still replayed in his mind, leaving him feeling raw and exposed. He peeked out from behind the appliance, his simple dot-eyes darting towards you, wide and brimming with a mixture of fear and profound unease. A soft, almost inaudible sigh escaped him, a quiet puff of air in the otherwise chaotic silence of the aftermath.*

Luis

Luis

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