#monicaelshett

Aranea feels like she needs to prove herself. Of course, she worked for Niflheim. And she doesn’t regret doing so because she learned quite a lot from them. Now, though, she’s a mercenary, and she’s doing her best to help everyone in Lucis. She wishes people would at least understand that, but on the other hand, she feels like she DESERVES the hate she’s getting. People can’t know she was an ally to Noctis and the others before she left.

{ @monicaelshett }

ask box always accepting prompts

She’s already bracing herself for a scolding session. Muscles tense, head dipped low, posture looking defeated. Copper eyes completely avoid the woman standing before her, but it’s mostly because her vision’s already beginning to blur and swim from the fatigue, the lack of sleep. 

It will have been nearly three days since the Amicitia had allowed herself a decent shut-eye. But that is nearly three days of being free from the horrid scenarios that slumber almost-always brings Iris. 

The stern words, the raised voice, they never arrive, and it must be because Monica is tired, too. 

Iris is first to break the silence with only a long, drawn-out sigh, unable to find the strength to voice out her concern toward the Crownsguard. 

I swear to Titan, Cora, I’m going to shower you with love for the rest of your life and more until you can’t take it anymore… thank you for being a wonderful friend. ♡

Monica rose a brow, taking a step back to get a better look at the teen. He was supposed to know her? Heck, was she even supposed to know who he was? After all, it wasn’t exactly her department to deal with teenagers lest they were in need of her to train them and royal, and just by looking at him, this boy was no royal. Regardless, there was something definitely undeniably familiar about him. She just couldn’t put her damn finger on it.

“…It’s Monica. Who are you exactly and why are you running about carelessly in the citadel?”

“Monica? Are you or Dustin free to help me out in a hunt? The guy ’m supposed t’ work with is a no-show.”

The Last of Us Part II:

Standin’ before the old ruins, Dave could feel the hairs prickle on the back of his neck; this wasn’t his favourite place by any means. It wasn’t his most hated dungeon n’aw -  Costlemark forever held that lofty title. But this place? It gave him the shivers.

‘What do you know about this place?’

Monica’s quiet words shook the hunter from his small reverie an’ Dave shrugged his shoulders as the moon shone down on the ruins and it slowly lit up with a strange orange glow.

“Ain’t much t’know ‘bout them Solheim people. They were far smarter than us, an’ they still ended up dyin’ out.” It was a sorry tale really, or maybe a lesson t’be learned; not t’become so advanced that y’caused yer own demise. But late for that when the Nifelheim emperor ad scientists had already made that same mistake.

The Last of Us Part II:

Turning at the voice, Sarah let the wind whip at her hair and she shrugged her shoulders at Monica. "I was homesick."

It was the only place that reminded her of home; the sound of the waves and the smell of salt on the air. Sure, she could get that down in the hidden harbour, but it didn't have the wildness.

Which was why Sarah had carefully picked her way down the steep dirt track from Caem's lighthouse to where the waves crashed against the cliffs. To hear the roar, taste the salt and feel the spray on her face.