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meadowlarklogs2019-06-06 06:56 pm
monomachy) wrote in meadowlarklogs2019-06-06 06:56 pm
i'm just a believer [open]
WHO: Diana Prince & various.
WHERE: Several locations around NA.
WHEN: The first two weeks of November.
WHAT: A week in the life of an Amazonian princess. May include: crime fighting, nerding out over art, glowering at buggy food, selfies, a minor shopping spree, and other such shenanigans.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: TBA.
i. i've never been that lucky [the safehouse]
[Diana is no stranger to starting her life over.
It was easier, a hundred years ago. Simply moving from one city to another, even just a few dozen miles away, was enough. People didn't travel so widely back then. She could spend a decade or so in one place before anyone began to notice that she didn't age as they did. Before they started to notice other things about her, too. Then, all she'd have to do would be give a smile along with a few goodbyes, pack up whatever belongings she could carry, and simply move on. Nobody questioned it, not even when she'd been a woman alone, back when things like that were more likely to rouse suspicion. She had a way of making people believe she could take care of herself, and that was no lie.
But as the world continued to modernize, starting over became more difficult. Money had to be moved, documents had to be altered just so. Even references for work had to be chosen carefully, with the utmost discretion. It was a game she'd been playing for decades now, and one she'd thought she'd mastered--at least until Lex Luthor had pulled her image from who knew how many cameras from across Europe with her none the wiser, shattering her belief that she'd been so careful, so clever. To be sure, he had more resources at his disposal than most, but if one person could do it, there was nothing to stop another.
That had been part of her decision to go public, in the end. There was no use hiding what the world would find out eventually anyway.
In New Amsterdam, she hadn't needed to put any of her usual meticulous effort into creating a new life; Morningstar had done it all for her. And while she's grateful, it had put her a little out of her depth. She'd had no choice in her arrival, which was the worst of it. Always, before, she'd picked her destination with care. But now she's living in a safehouse with a varying number of occupants, and she couldn't be much less enthused. Diana has always valued her privacy, and between the communal sleeping and bathing arrangements, the safehouse doesn't even pretend to offer it.
Still, she makes the best of it. She rises early every morning, going through a set of stretches before starting her morning jog around the city. She's always willing to let people join her, enjoying the company when she thought she might not. Her evenings are spent in the common area more often than not, chatting with the other inhabitants amicably despite how badly she wants her own space. She sleeps lightly, always waking if someone comes in late, rolling off her cot and to her feet the instant the door opens, ready for whoever--or whatever--may come through the door.]
ii. i've never tasted fame [cuyp markt]
[The market is a delight. Diana has always enjoyed open-air bazaars and the like, and even if the Cuyp Markt is located underground, it has the same energized feeling. The little money she sets aside to spend is usually run through in the marketplace, and she never regrets a credit of it. She often enthuses about produce, picking up fruits and exclaiming about how good it is to see something fresh despite all the processed foods here. She's a shrewd bargainer, and has no qualms about standing for a long while arguing about the price of something-or-other until a compromise is reached.
Today, she's decided to browse a stall selling cosmetics. Diana doesn't wear a lot of makeup, but it's always good to have some on hand. She'd quickly learned the effect a bit of color to her lips or a bit of kohl around her eyes could have, and the abrupt nature of her new life makes her grasp any advantage she can with both hands.
Diana holds a tube of lipstick up to the fluorescent lights, eyeing it dubiously.]
This isn't made of bugs too, is it?
iii. i'm always looking for something [lilly&moki art gallery]
[Since arriving in New Amsterdam, Diana had spent most of the free time (which she now had in abundance) around the arts district. Her latest job at the Louvre had been one of her favorites, and she had seen no reason not to continue in the same line of work here.
Except that the art so so vastly different from what she knows.
That had been what she'd spent the first few weeks learning. Digital and virtual art are the trends now, which is no surprise considering the lack of paper. Even canvas is hard to come by, as far as she can tell. Sculpture, at least, has remained. The physical expression of art is where her expertise lies, but she's a quick study. A few days browsing the internet and visiting every gallery she could possibly find had given her an idea of recent trends and what the upper echelons wanted to see displayed in their homes.
It was enough to get her a job at Lilly&Moki. She hasn't been a gallery attendant in a long, long time, but she'd given more than a few private tours of the Louvre in the past few years, and knows how to talk to patrons. She dresses casually but professionally, immediately setting aside a portion of her earnings to begin rebuilding the wardrobe she sorely misses. If she's going to start rubbing shoulders with the social elite, acting the part won't help her if she doesn't look it.
The permanent pieces in the gallery were easy enough to memorize descriptions for, and she'll add her own interpretations more often than not. Escorting potential buyers through the rest of the gallery, where the local art is displayed, is her favorite part, though. The pieces change often, keeping her on her toes. When she describes them, it's obvious that she holds respect for both the art and the artist themselves. She pauses before the façade of a small house set against one wall of the gallery, the two windows of which are set with stained glass. The designs on the glass seem more abstract than not, but Diana launches into her description without hesitation:]
Tonina Wolfe is a local artist, and this is her first piece to be shown at Lilly&Moki, titled Oblivious Earth. According to the artist, this work resonates with the conflicts that inhere in postmodern urbanism, which is reminiscent of the gap between necessity and desire, practicality and fiction.
iv. but i hate changing [new amsterdam after dark]
[If someone were to tell Diana she'd gone out tonight looking for trouble, she would have been offended--even if they would be absolutely correct. This is a big city, and big cities always run rampant with crime. She'd made a promise when she'd agreed to start the League with Bruce and Clark, and even if that's been taken away from her, she isn't going to just let it go. She wants to get a feel for the darker parts of the city, to gauge how much she can do without breaking the trust Morningstar has afforded her as a member of the displaced population.
At least trouble isn't hard to find.
The sound of wood creaking and splintering beneath the force of a crowbar, followed by muttering voices, catches her ear, and adjusts her course to investigate. There are three of them, and the thieves have just managed to force the door in as Diana rounds the corner, and their surprise at seeing her affords her a moment to address them.]
Go home. You don't want to do this.
[She says it as a simple statement of fact, not a plea. One of them laughs, and motions for his companions to continue into the store while he deals with her. She hears the familiar sound of a switchblade flipping open.
Apparently, criminals stay the same no matter the universe.
He rushes her, but she's ready. One arm comes up as his knife swings down--and she catches his wrist without so much as flinching at the blade. Surprise throws him off guard, and she pushes the flat of her palm against his chest; the blow isn't hard enough to break anything, but it sends him flying back against the brick wall of the building with a loud thud.
No, trouble isn't hard to find at all.]
v. time fades, there's no space as life breaks new ground [wildcard]
[ooc; this is just a general mingle for diana! she'll be all over new amsterdam, so if you'd like me to write a starter for you, just let me know via pm or on plurk at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
watchet. she's a regular at powers and combat training, and eats at food stalls and small cafes near the safehouse. additionally, here is her cooltalk, and i made a fashion board for her, because i could.]
WHERE: Several locations around NA.
WHEN: The first two weeks of November.
WHAT: A week in the life of an Amazonian princess. May include: crime fighting, nerding out over art, glowering at buggy food, selfies, a minor shopping spree, and other such shenanigans.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: TBA.
i. i've never been that lucky [the safehouse]
[Diana is no stranger to starting her life over.
It was easier, a hundred years ago. Simply moving from one city to another, even just a few dozen miles away, was enough. People didn't travel so widely back then. She could spend a decade or so in one place before anyone began to notice that she didn't age as they did. Before they started to notice other things about her, too. Then, all she'd have to do would be give a smile along with a few goodbyes, pack up whatever belongings she could carry, and simply move on. Nobody questioned it, not even when she'd been a woman alone, back when things like that were more likely to rouse suspicion. She had a way of making people believe she could take care of herself, and that was no lie.
But as the world continued to modernize, starting over became more difficult. Money had to be moved, documents had to be altered just so. Even references for work had to be chosen carefully, with the utmost discretion. It was a game she'd been playing for decades now, and one she'd thought she'd mastered--at least until Lex Luthor had pulled her image from who knew how many cameras from across Europe with her none the wiser, shattering her belief that she'd been so careful, so clever. To be sure, he had more resources at his disposal than most, but if one person could do it, there was nothing to stop another.
That had been part of her decision to go public, in the end. There was no use hiding what the world would find out eventually anyway.
In New Amsterdam, she hadn't needed to put any of her usual meticulous effort into creating a new life; Morningstar had done it all for her. And while she's grateful, it had put her a little out of her depth. She'd had no choice in her arrival, which was the worst of it. Always, before, she'd picked her destination with care. But now she's living in a safehouse with a varying number of occupants, and she couldn't be much less enthused. Diana has always valued her privacy, and between the communal sleeping and bathing arrangements, the safehouse doesn't even pretend to offer it.
Still, she makes the best of it. She rises early every morning, going through a set of stretches before starting her morning jog around the city. She's always willing to let people join her, enjoying the company when she thought she might not. Her evenings are spent in the common area more often than not, chatting with the other inhabitants amicably despite how badly she wants her own space. She sleeps lightly, always waking if someone comes in late, rolling off her cot and to her feet the instant the door opens, ready for whoever--or whatever--may come through the door.]
ii. i've never tasted fame [cuyp markt]
[The market is a delight. Diana has always enjoyed open-air bazaars and the like, and even if the Cuyp Markt is located underground, it has the same energized feeling. The little money she sets aside to spend is usually run through in the marketplace, and she never regrets a credit of it. She often enthuses about produce, picking up fruits and exclaiming about how good it is to see something fresh despite all the processed foods here. She's a shrewd bargainer, and has no qualms about standing for a long while arguing about the price of something-or-other until a compromise is reached.
Today, she's decided to browse a stall selling cosmetics. Diana doesn't wear a lot of makeup, but it's always good to have some on hand. She'd quickly learned the effect a bit of color to her lips or a bit of kohl around her eyes could have, and the abrupt nature of her new life makes her grasp any advantage she can with both hands.
Diana holds a tube of lipstick up to the fluorescent lights, eyeing it dubiously.]
This isn't made of bugs too, is it?
iii. i'm always looking for something [lilly&moki art gallery]
[Since arriving in New Amsterdam, Diana had spent most of the free time (which she now had in abundance) around the arts district. Her latest job at the Louvre had been one of her favorites, and she had seen no reason not to continue in the same line of work here.
Except that the art so so vastly different from what she knows.
That had been what she'd spent the first few weeks learning. Digital and virtual art are the trends now, which is no surprise considering the lack of paper. Even canvas is hard to come by, as far as she can tell. Sculpture, at least, has remained. The physical expression of art is where her expertise lies, but she's a quick study. A few days browsing the internet and visiting every gallery she could possibly find had given her an idea of recent trends and what the upper echelons wanted to see displayed in their homes.
It was enough to get her a job at Lilly&Moki. She hasn't been a gallery attendant in a long, long time, but she'd given more than a few private tours of the Louvre in the past few years, and knows how to talk to patrons. She dresses casually but professionally, immediately setting aside a portion of her earnings to begin rebuilding the wardrobe she sorely misses. If she's going to start rubbing shoulders with the social elite, acting the part won't help her if she doesn't look it.
The permanent pieces in the gallery were easy enough to memorize descriptions for, and she'll add her own interpretations more often than not. Escorting potential buyers through the rest of the gallery, where the local art is displayed, is her favorite part, though. The pieces change often, keeping her on her toes. When she describes them, it's obvious that she holds respect for both the art and the artist themselves. She pauses before the façade of a small house set against one wall of the gallery, the two windows of which are set with stained glass. The designs on the glass seem more abstract than not, but Diana launches into her description without hesitation:]
Tonina Wolfe is a local artist, and this is her first piece to be shown at Lilly&Moki, titled Oblivious Earth. According to the artist, this work resonates with the conflicts that inhere in postmodern urbanism, which is reminiscent of the gap between necessity and desire, practicality and fiction.
iv. but i hate changing [new amsterdam after dark]
[If someone were to tell Diana she'd gone out tonight looking for trouble, she would have been offended--even if they would be absolutely correct. This is a big city, and big cities always run rampant with crime. She'd made a promise when she'd agreed to start the League with Bruce and Clark, and even if that's been taken away from her, she isn't going to just let it go. She wants to get a feel for the darker parts of the city, to gauge how much she can do without breaking the trust Morningstar has afforded her as a member of the displaced population.
At least trouble isn't hard to find.
The sound of wood creaking and splintering beneath the force of a crowbar, followed by muttering voices, catches her ear, and adjusts her course to investigate. There are three of them, and the thieves have just managed to force the door in as Diana rounds the corner, and their surprise at seeing her affords her a moment to address them.]
Go home. You don't want to do this.
[She says it as a simple statement of fact, not a plea. One of them laughs, and motions for his companions to continue into the store while he deals with her. She hears the familiar sound of a switchblade flipping open.
Apparently, criminals stay the same no matter the universe.
He rushes her, but she's ready. One arm comes up as his knife swings down--and she catches his wrist without so much as flinching at the blade. Surprise throws him off guard, and she pushes the flat of her palm against his chest; the blow isn't hard enough to break anything, but it sends him flying back against the brick wall of the building with a loud thud.
No, trouble isn't hard to find at all.]
v. time fades, there's no space as life breaks new ground [wildcard]
[ooc; this is just a general mingle for diana! she'll be all over new amsterdam, so if you'd like me to write a starter for you, just let me know via pm or on plurk at
no subject
Not usually. [ He shrugs one shoulder in response, then begins to lead them away from the shop. Their work is done here and he'd rather not have someone come across them and then get the wrong idea. ] It was just an example of right place, right time.
[ That, and he'd been curious about her. He still is, for that matter.
He allows them to walk in silence for a few moments before speaking up again. ] You held him up like it was nothing. [ That's not a typical kind of strength, and his question is implied. It takes one to know one, but he isn't going to play his card just yet. ]
no subject
After the slightest of pauses, she matches his stride. There's no reason to stay; she isn't a detective like the Batman, and she's fairly certain that thief won't come back around here for a while.
She doesn't mind the silence, but when he finally speaks, he says what she'd been expecting several minutes ago. A slight smile quirks her lips, and she gives him a sly look.]
I work out.
[Which is not a lie. But she still can't let it stand as such, and eventually shrugs.]
I come from a long line of strong women.
no subject
It runs in the family, huh. [ She wants to be cagey about this and it's not like Jack can force her to tell him everything, especially when he's so prone to being cagey himself. He dips his hands into the pockets of his pants as he walks, though he's still keeping a sharp eye on their surroundings. It's a habit he can't just drop. ]
Is patrolling the city at night to put petty criminals in their place part of the family business, too?
[ This would all be much easier if he would just outright ask her if she's enhanced in some way, but Jack's not sure how Diana would take a direct approach. ]
no subject
Her smile doesn't leave her lips, and she even legs a quiet laugh slip.]
No, it isn't. There isn't a lot of crime where I'm from.
[There isn't any, actually. Everyone on Themyscira was always able to get anything they needed; there was no reason to steal or kill. She hasn't been there in a century, but she can't imagine it being any other way.]
You could say I'm the black sheep of the family. [Mostly because she ran away to... well, not patrol cities at night to put petty criminals in their place, but that's what she's ended up doing for now, isn't it? She can imagine the looks she'd get from her sisters if they saw how she was trying to uphold their sacred duty.]
What about you? You clearly have experience doing this.
no subject
Getting the questions turned around on him, though -- that's just aggravating.
Jack realizes that he's going to have to give her something if he expects her to trust him with any more information, though. If nothing else, he can tell that they're on the same page, walking almost in sync, their eyes traveling to the same places on this mainly empty city street. ]
I was on a mission to uncover some information, back before I got dragged into all this. [ Before New Amsterdam, before El Nysa. ] I got used to skulking around places I wasn't supposed to be.
[ And sometimes even helping people in need, if it was a matter of wrong place, wrong time. Like with Alejandra. ]