"Does it have to be personal to hate a God who has fostered the worst in man since the beginning of civilization, who attempted to drive a wedge between the gods and men?" Diana asks, perhaps a bit haughty.
"See, that's not an easy one to tackle. Because we have to take into consideration the fact the he's the God of War - it's in the name, right? But was it a position he was born into and thus had to shoulder or was it something that he felt was necessary?" Devil's advocate, this one. It's a conversation that likely involves a lot of circles, too.
"There is a difference between war and sowing strife and chaos." Diana shakes her head, because she is sure in that. "I do not believe it is complicated as you make it sound."
Hence, the ability to talk themselves in circles. But James goes with it for now, somewhat relived to be discussing a topic that would be a normal one in Diana's world. "I don't know about you, Diana, but I've never been part of a war that wasn't chaos." He pauses and with it comes a less hurried pace. "You're saying it wouldn't be that way were it not for him interfering?"
"I am not saying that... Not exactly," Diana admits, shaking her head. "Men are complicated, and the darkness is there regardless. But he would nurture that darkness and then punish humanity for indulging the same flaws he has only ever encouraged."
Which may inform her feelings about God here, to a degree.
"Ah. One of those types." The nod is there in theory, just not physically. Jim sighs something short and gives her arm a squeeze with his. "I'm not trying to argue against you, for the record. It's interesting and deities are a foreign thing in terms of being around in the flesh, so color me curious." There's a very pregnant pause that follows, one where James works up the nerve to add something a little more intimate, where he weighs the pros and cons to admitting it now or holding onto it for another time. In the end, he quietly clears his throat and throws caution to the wind. "And if it means getting to know you better, hearing about your world and everything, then that's a welcome bonus."
James feels a sense of calm around Diana, he's thoroughly attracted to her, and he appreciates the person she's shown him so far. She didn't chide him for his humane tactics, she's been open to the idea of gathering in numbers for achievable change. And she seems to actually give a shit. Maybe it has something to do with the glorious halo, maybe not.
"I do not mind talking about it." Though she may get a bit heated—she has her reasons for that.
Her head bows as she considers that.
"He told me that Zeus was my father," she says then, not a fact she shares often or easily. She still barely believes it. "That would make him my brother—Ares, that is. Half brother. He killed the other gods until he was finally defeated by Zeus, who hid the Amazons, my mother's people, away from the world of men before he too died."
Had they not previously spoken, James would ask if that had anything to do with her halo, regardless of them being more typical of Christian folklore, but it had been a difficult thing to ignore their first time meeting, and so that question has already been explained; Diana being a demigod is not a result of being a halo bearer as well. He's looking more at it than her right now and James's laugh is self-deprecating. "You're kind of intimidating at times, Diana. Anyone ever tell you that?" It's well-meant, though, definitely a compliment.
He adopts a light blush, head ducking with a small smile. "Not enough to stay away, but," James looks back to Diana, smile widening into something a little more confident, impish. "But a little. Yeah. It's probably better that you approached me, because I would have taken some nerve working on my behalf."
"You know, despite that, you are far more worldly than I am." Diana smiles slightly, her lashes lowering as she considers their conversations. "I've only been away from my home for a short time. You? You've seen the stars."
"Alright, fair, but I don't have the blood of deities in me. And I don't think that would have been your only trip away from home - you would find a way to see it all and you would let it enrich your life." A beat, and James asks, "Does being a demigod have an affect on your age?"
His assumption verified, James retorts, "There you have it, then; plenty of time to experience the world while you're waiting on space travel to get to a point of seeing beyond Earth. Maybe you'll even discover something."
They should name things after her, he thinks. Diana is, pun not intended, amazing.
"I don't see why not? You must have already lived through major developments, like the invention of the internet. More or less immortal means more or less seeing the evolution of humans. Mankind." Not that Diana isn't human.
James blushes slightly, his smile suddenly shy as he looks away and then back, and he pauses their 'midnight'-stroll to caress Diana's cheek with a crooked finger. Whether he's keeping with the façade of their date or he genuinely believes it, he bites his lip and nods. "Yeah. I think I do. I think you'd have a ship of your own. Something like The Aloadae." Since they captured Ares and she has a disliking towards said God.
He finds himself wanting to kiss Diana in that moment, and yet he refrains, nervous.
Diana stops with him, half turning toward him, into the brush at her cheek and the angle of his body. She finds herself studying his face. The answer warms her—and saddens her, because if they met again, if she met him the long way through time, then he wouldn't know her anymore.
He hopes the alteration in his breathing isn't noticeable to her, but nothing can be done for it, his reaction to her involuntary. James thinks he may have hid it somewhat convincingly when he chuckles softly. "I don't know, she'd be your ship. I just chose the name for reference's sake or some personal connection." A beat, and James adds, "I think Aloadae would be on the larger scale, like the Roci, big enough for a crew to accommodate an Amazon warrior and leader."
Diana's face lights up at his answer, a large ship and a crew.
She thinks she'd like that, at least a few people to travel the stars with her. Friends. She pictures them as people she's known, though it's a bittersweet fantasy. Most will not last that long.
"I think I would like having a ship of my own," she says, leaning closer. A little. Her face angled up. "It sounds very free."
"It is." James doesn't realize how quietly he's speaking, that he's accommodating their proximity, that he's distracted by the way nearby hellfire highlights the angles of Diana's face. Before he can lose the courage that's fueled by her apparent invitation, he slides the arm she's attached to around the small of Diana's back and presses a careful, soft kiss to her lips, ready to break away at a moment's notice if he misread body language.
He didn't misread. The invitation is real. Even so, there's a certain warm flush of surprise when his lips touch hers. The feeling is not unfamiliar, but it's been some time and it's still... sweet. The touch of his hand and the curve of his body.
Diana returns the kiss gently, leaning into it. Her hands light on his chest, smoothing up to his shoulders, and her whole body buzzes with the thrill.
James smiles into the kiss when he feels her hands on him, an involuntary shiver moving through him as Diana shifts them upwards. Fingers splaying, he lightly presses her closer while slipping a hand between coat and body and fitting it against Diana's waist, keeping the kissing at a slow, sensual pace.
Diana responds slowly, easing closer to him. She is not what one would call especially practiced. She's avoided most amorous connections here, especially after a few less consensual encounters.
But there's no panic here, no sense of wrongness.
Instead, it's... sweet. She melts into him, almost smiling into the kiss.
Whereas James used to sleep his way through ship crews until Naomi, and it took months until he felt even remotely alright about pursuing his interest in others, for developing feelings and harboring his little crushes. He's matured since the former playboy days, having no qualms with moving at Diana's pace.
James continues to tenderly kiss her, his hand briefly bunching the fabric at her waist then settling along her curvature. He thinks he should break, to ask whether or not Diana wants to continue this back at the hotel or resume their late-night-can't-sleep walk, but he also finds it difficult to focus on the task when he's enjoying how their mouths fit together, how she tastes and moves against him.
While she doesn't rush, it's also clear Diana isn't shy or insecure. She's... curious, maybe. Learning the differences between the way James kisses and the few other men she's experienced.
Her hand moves to his throat, her thumb passing along his jaw, feeling the stubble.
It's a long moment before she breaks from the kiss to breathe, a pleasant flush in her cheeks.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Because yes, it is personal.
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Which may inform her feelings about God here, to a degree.
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James feels a sense of calm around Diana, he's thoroughly attracted to her, and he appreciates the person she's shown him so far. She didn't chide him for his humane tactics, she's been open to the idea of gathering in numbers for achievable change. And she seems to actually give a shit. Maybe it has something to do with the glorious halo, maybe not.
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Her head bows as she considers that.
"He told me that Zeus was my father," she says then, not a fact she shares often or easily. She still barely believes it. "That would make him my brother—Ares, that is. Half brother. He killed the other gods until he was finally defeated by Zeus, who hid the Amazons, my mother's people, away from the world of men before he too died."
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He's going somewhere with this.
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They should name things after her, he thinks. Diana is, pun not intended, amazing.
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Her head tilts, spilling dark hair over her shoulder.
"Do you think it would be possible we'd meet in that future."
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James blushes slightly, his smile suddenly shy as he looks away and then back, and he pauses their 'midnight'-stroll to caress Diana's cheek with a crooked finger. Whether he's keeping with the façade of their date or he genuinely believes it, he bites his lip and nods. "Yeah. I think I do. I think you'd have a ship of your own. Something like The Aloadae." Since they captured Ares and she has a disliking towards said God.
He finds himself wanting to kiss Diana in that moment, and yet he refrains, nervous.
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Would he?
She smiles slightly.
"Tell me about The Aloadae?"
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She thinks she'd like that, at least a few people to travel the stars with her. Friends. She pictures them as people she's known, though it's a bittersweet fantasy. Most will not last that long.
"I think I would like having a ship of my own," she says, leaning closer. A little. Her face angled up. "It sounds very free."
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Diana returns the kiss gently, leaning into it. Her hands light on his chest, smoothing up to his shoulders, and her whole body buzzes with the thrill.
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But there's no panic here, no sense of wrongness.
Instead, it's... sweet. She melts into him, almost smiling into the kiss.
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James continues to tenderly kiss her, his hand briefly bunching the fabric at her waist then settling along her curvature. He thinks he should break, to ask whether or not Diana wants to continue this back at the hotel or resume their late-night-can't-sleep walk, but he also finds it difficult to focus on the task when he's enjoying how their mouths fit together, how she tastes and moves against him.
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Her hand moves to his throat, her thumb passing along his jaw, feeling the stubble.
It's a long moment before she breaks from the kiss to breathe, a pleasant flush in her cheeks.
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Fade out ;