[Far from awkward, Diana had been sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at a photograph held delicately between her fingers. It's the only bit of home she has, and though it's only been what she can assume is a few hours since she left Earth, she already misses it dearly. She'd thought her homesickness for Themyscira was bad, but it's nothing compared to not even being on the same planet anymore.
She starts when the door opens, immediately rising to her feet, every muscle coiled and ready for anything. But it's just a man, and her shoulders slump as she sees him, hears his apology. The Amazon shakes her head, starting forward and raising the hand with the photo and waving it slightly.]
No, it's alright. I didn't realize the door wasn't locked.
[Locks are relatively new to her still. On Themyscira, there had simply been no need for them. She'd never met a sister she couldn't trust with her life. Strange as it may seem, that had been her first glimpse into how deeply Ares' corruption had wormed its way into the hearts of men.
She takes in his appearance finally, bruised and battered. Her brows draw in concern, and she lowers her hand.]
You look like you've been through the wringer.
[A phrase she remembers from her time on the Front. For some reason, it had stuck. Maybe because it reminds her of Steve. She feels a pang in her chest at just the thought of his name, but does a good job of not letting it show.]
bunking down
She starts when the door opens, immediately rising to her feet, every muscle coiled and ready for anything. But it's just a man, and her shoulders slump as she sees him, hears his apology. The Amazon shakes her head, starting forward and raising the hand with the photo and waving it slightly.]
No, it's alright. I didn't realize the door wasn't locked.
[Locks are relatively new to her still. On Themyscira, there had simply been no need for them. She'd never met a sister she couldn't trust with her life. Strange as it may seem, that had been her first glimpse into how deeply Ares' corruption had wormed its way into the hearts of men.
She takes in his appearance finally, bruised and battered. Her brows draw in concern, and she lowers her hand.]
You look like you've been through the wringer.
[A phrase she remembers from her time on the Front. For some reason, it had stuck. Maybe because it reminds her of Steve. She feels a pang in her chest at just the thought of his name, but does a good job of not letting it show.]