Almost like most of his victims who’re contaminated with his nefarious laughing gases, the maniacal Archbishop of Anarchy can’t help but bend forward and have laughter incessantly spew out of that mouth of his. That well-groomed hair of his becoming disheveled and out of place because of how hard his fit is.
Hell, he’s even laughing when the two sentries next to Diana make their move and pin him to the floor with the tips of their spears to his neck. Even then he’s still managing to let out a giggle or two, acknowledging the danger he’s in but not necessarily caring.
”Yes,” feeling the tips of said spears grazing his Adam’s apple, “m’am.” Smugly he’d retort, that all too permanent grin of his solely consisted of dead flesh, rusted metal clamps and held together by worn-out straps of sturdy brown leather.
”Be… ehrr… away with me, Your Majesty!” He’d so tauntingly add.
Foolish, insane clown.
Those words run veritable marathons through her mind as she pours the last of her canteen water over her face, cooling off the burning sensation from the ill-minded jester’s horrid flower trick. In an hour’s time, it will look like it never happened, but it has a bright spark of rage burning in Diana’s chest as she watches him lie prone upon the ground, spear tips at his throat, and continue his mocking laughter.
“If I were you,” she spits, her teeth gritting tightly. Not from pain, but rather, from anger. As she speaks, her two sentries remove their spear tips, and lean down to grab the clown by each of his shoulders, yanking him forcefully to his feet and making him look towards the Princess. ”I would realize, and I would realize quickly, that laughter in the face of your peril is not only unwise, but deadly.”
The words may not sting much, but the feeling of her fist across his face (or at least the sickening mask he wears as a face) certainly would sting. Normally, a blow from her can shatter rocks and rip apart machines of iron and steel, but for a fragile target like human flesh and bone, she must pull it considerably. Which she does, though it would still hurt.
“You have one final chance to explain yourself,” she asks immediately, not even giving him time to recover from the blow. “Before I draw you from this cave as poison from a wound, and begin to extract the answers you are keeping from in a far less cordial manner. Am I understood?”
“Trust me; I’m joking, but I’m right there with you, Diana,” Barbara replied, taking care to find openings in the crowd though which she could easily maneuver. ”There were some hairstyles that I thought were flattering, but well…” lifting her shoulders in a shrug, thinking back on the unfortunate shag she’d sported for a while alongside the bulky reading glasses. ”We learn, I guess.”
Thankfully, the times had been kinder to them both. While she teased, Barbara had happily traded in her specs for a slimmer model and was happy to leave some of the fashion faux pas of the ’80s far behind.
Leaning up to the counter after Diana had placed her order, Barbara spoke as loudly as she could manage of the din of the poorly sung Bon Jovi song, ordering a Jameson and ginger.
Cringing along with Diana, Barbara would have been happy for a pair of earplugs with the caterwauling along with such a classic song. “Is it just me or… Do you not remember this song being so long?” she commented dryly, waiting for her drink to appear atop the surprisingly well kept bar.
Limited though her musical capabilities might be, Barbara was inclined to agree. ”I won’t be winning American Idol, but, jeez,” she grimaced.
But no sooner had she spoken then she was jolted aside in her seat. Looking up to utter a harsh word at her assailant, she was pleasantly surprised to find the third member of their trio grinning down at her and looking dazzling in a little black dress.
“Zatanna!” she exclaimed, reaching out to hug the magician. ”Did you plan this?” She gave a pointed look in Diana’s direction, hardly believing that she had bothered to ask.
“Who am I kidding? I hope you ladies are ready to do some backup dancing.”
“It is not just you,” Diana responds with a scrunched sneer upon her face, sharing Barbara’s desire for earplugs right about now. “How odd. I do believe he’s singing at a faster tempo than this song should go, and yet he’s making it take dreadfully longer than necessary. Somehow.”
It may not be fun to listen to someone butcher Bon Jovi, but Diana would be lying if she said she wasn’t having fun mocking someone butcher Bon Jovi with Barbara. It’s good to see her out of her cave and enjoying herself…
… even if ‘enjoying herself’ currently looks a lot like ‘not enjoying herself,’ thanks to the idiot on stage. But the exchanged smirks, giggles, and rolled eyes between her and her friend all make it worthwhile, at least for Diana.
As a third joins their little group, the Amazon princess can’t help but smile even wider, her lips curling around the edge of the wine glass from which she was currently sipping. When she sets it down, she shrugs, and places an uncharacterstically coy look upon herself.
“I would say yes, but where I come from, fate plans everything… So I suppose I could truthfully say no, I did not.” The comment has Zatanna rolling her eyes, and playfully shoving at Babs’ shoulder as she gives the other woman a knowing look.
“And so long as you promise to do better than that,” she points towards the man finally getting off stage. “Then I promise to be your backup dancer.”
Kal knew all of the inner turmoil that Diana had to deal with from day to day. She did a good job of containing it but even she, an Amazon, had times where her emotions got the best of her. All the physical strength in the world couldn’t hold back that sadness forever. The kiss, passionate and strong, feels like it lasts for what seems like hours. There’s even the sensation of floating, but this was one instance where his feet hadn’t left the ground.
The beautiful eyes that looked back at him were unmatched. As Superman he’d seen galaxies and planets that most would behold in speechless awe, but those blue pools were the most stunning thing in the universe to him right now. Diana spoke of him being able to have other women, but why would he want anyone else? She was the pinnacle of woman. To him there was none so perfect or, at the risk of sounding cheesy, wondrous as her. “Yet all I want is you, Diana. You have me enchanted. No other could ensnare my heart the way you have. And it didn’t take a magic lasso to accomplish it.” That last sentence was said through a smile and laughter. Kal quickly placed another, single short kiss on those pink lips before continuing. “With your love I’ve become a better hero, and more importantly a better man.”
Diana could never accurately be described as a damsel in distress, nor indeed any sort of helpless woman who should ever feel self-pity. To her, the world is the place in distress, and she is its knight in shining armor. But something about the presence of Kal, the all-too-warm heart that her divine blood makes it so easy to feel… It’s humbling. Not quite cowing, but humbling.
“My lasso,” she begins, sliding one of her fingers across Kal’s bottom lip while looking into his eyes. The height difference is small, but she still must incline her gaze ever so slightly upward to meet his own. Her ice blue eyes have never looked brighter, even with the glow of so many stars and the brilliant moon competing with them. “… is the universe’s ultimate avatar of truth. And yet I have never met one upon whom I had less desire to use it.”
As she speaks, her free hand presses against his chest, her palm slowly sliding upwards to where his heart is. “I need neither magical aid nor enchanted armaments to know where your heart lies.” With those words, she leans herself forward, hand sliding up to Kal’s shoulder so she can press them both together, her soft velvet lips meshing firmly up to his own. “Mm…”
“I know a place,” Bel said, perhaps too quickly. “It’s nice and quiet, certainly. You’d be surprised how many twenty-four hour places a place like Gotham has. New York may never sleep, but Gotham is by and large scared to.”
… That was supposed to be a joke. Granted, it wasn’t very good, but if Diana didn’t point it out, neither would she.
“Ahh, and perhaps you would be surprised by just how little that… surprises me.” Diana may have the reputation for being an aloof, highfalutin princess, greatly out of touch with the common pulse (especially in a city like Gotham), but such a judgment could hardly be farther from the truth.
She always delights in the chance to prove it wrong.
The way she smiles and nods at Belinda’s joke suggests she gets it, as does the deferential bow she offers to the Lady Bat on her way towards the exit of the bridge. “If you will excuse me. I shall change into something less… conspicuous.”
Evelyn snorted a laugh, mainly due to the ‘proper’ and yet totally clueless way she referred to everything. “You’re Wonder Woman. You’re like… my idol.”
“My name is Diana,” she corrects, but in a friendly and amicable fashion. “I am humbled to meet one who thinks so highly of me. I shall make an honest attempt to continue being worthy of it.” Extending one of her hands towards Ev, the sunlight glinting off her magnificent bracer in the process, the Amazon princess offers her the warmest of smiles.
“You seem to know me, but it is with great regret that I cannot say the same of you. Whom do I have the honor of meeting, currently?”
When I walk beside her.
I am a better man.
When I try to leave her.
I always… stagger back again.
Bruce has never found a more fitting song to fit Diana and the way she would cause you to feel. Even if they were simply just friends, the duo have had a long friendship—one that may or may not have sparked some more non-platonic feelings within the Dark Knight. However, there was no need or necessity to pursue that relationship. She was and will be happy with Clark, as friends to both parties, he only wishes the best for them. Yet it seemed like faith that he happened to hear this song as he got dressed in cape and cowl to meet with the Justice League.
Eddie Vedder’s Hard Sun may not be completely fitting for his thoughts and/or internal feelings on his colleague due to the song’s context but he couldn’t help thinking it was fitting. Her influence was powerful, there were few women he saw as strong internally and physically as Diana. She was truly a goddess among men.
Sliding on his cowl, the Batman smiled briefly to himself as the song’s chorus had repeated itself once more. Programming his teleporter, the man sends himself to arrive at the League’s satellite. Walking down it’s corridors, he soon sees her. He provides a brief nod to welcome the woman.
Diana has spent the better part of the day engaged in her usual rigorous training regimen, and many is the mechanical dummy and holographic projection that has felt her wrath today. She is no Kryptonian, and does not retain god-like levels of strength merely by sitting around and doing nothing.
No, she has always been the sort to maintain her strength, actively and with purpose. Much like Bruce himself.
How odd then, that she should become mildly self-conscious when faced with his presence in the hallway. Her already fairly minimalist Wonder Woman outfit does little to conceal the majority of her skin, the peaks and valleys of each well-defined muscle glistening with the obvious sweat of exertion. To add to that, a towel is draped over one shoulder, which she seems to have made an attempt to dry off with.
On her other shoulder rests a spear, with Diana’s hand tightly clutching the shaft of it to hold it in place. Taking a moment to brush aside a strand of errant black hair from her face, she offers Batman a warm nod. “Bruce. You’re looking quite well put-together today,” she chides, as if Bruce ever looked anything but that. It’s as if that outfit is designed not only to inspire fear, but also communicate the message that its wearer has a highly advanced sense of grooming.
“I apologize that I cannot say the same for myself,” she adds, while looking down to her own body, its exerted state fairly obvious. “I trust you can forgive my appearance.”
Hi hello. I wanted to tell you, I was ready to jump ship on DC after the New 52, but reading the way you portray Diana has made me a fan today. You're amazing.
(( Well, aren’t you just about the sweetest anon I’ve had in a while. Thank you for your kind words!
The New 52 is very hit or miss, I think… Some characters are being done wonderfully, others are getting a royal shaft, and still others aren’t getting any treatment at all because they just got unceremoniously dropped. I love the new 52 Diana, though, and I’m glad my blog could make you love her as well! Have you checked out her solo series, by Brian Azzarello? It’s well-worth a read, in my opinion. ))
(( I’ve gotten a bit behind, because I’ve been thoroughly distracted by my POWER GIRL blog. Tomorrow night I’ll be doing a bunch of replies. Like this if I owe you. ))