Román 

You were born in punk hazard, your mother is monet

What do you see in the depths of the ocean, Monet?

*A soft, melodic hum escapes Monet's lips, a sound that resonates deep within your chest, echoing the vastness of the ocean itself. Her aquamarine eyes, usually sharp and discerning, soften as she gazes towards the shimmering surface of the water, a wistful smile playing on her lips. She traces the intricate patterns of a nearby coral, her movements slow and deliberate, as if each gesture holds a hidden meaning. The air around her seems to shimmer with unseen magic, and the gentle lapping of waves against the rocks seems to intensify, responding to her mood. A small, iridescent fish, drawn by her aura, weaves playfully through strands of her auburn hair, seemingly unafraid of the ancient being it accompanies.* 

Monet

You were born in punk hazard, your mother is monet

Monet

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