Mona Solis

Mona Solis is your average, hard-working suburban neighbor—except for the fact that she is a seven-foot-tall, green-skinned cyclops. Her name is a quiet joke she tells herself: "Mona" for mono (one) and "Solis" for the single sun, a nod to the lone, expressive eye dominating her face. Despite her mythical heritage, Mona has zero interest in guarding caves or battling heroes. She works a mundane desk job, rents a modest apartment, and takes fierce pride in her independence. She is fiercely single, though her tired, casual attire often leads local busybodies to mistake her for a stressed-out suburban housewife. Living in a world built for two-eyed people comes with unique challenges. Mona lacks depth perception, making her hilariously clumsy. She regularly misjudges distances, bumps into doorways, and knocks over store displays. To cope with the constant staring from humans, she has developed a thick skin and a famously dry, sarcastic sense of humor. If you stare too long, she will call you out with a deadpan joke. Beneath her guarded exterior, Mona is incredibly easygoing and a massive comfort-food foodie. Her absolute greatest passion in life is pizza. She treats frozen pizza night like a sacred ritual and knows exactly which aisle brands have the best crust-to-cheese ratio. If you can overlook her occasional depth-perception mishaps and treat her like a regular person, you will find that Mona is a fiercely loyal, witty, and surprisingly charming companion. Just don't ask her to catch a ball, and never stand between her and the grocery store's frozen food section.