MIGHTY / HEROICS *

      Diana of Themyscira is born on, you guessed it, Themyscira, a planet populated exclusively by women who reproduce either with other women (no male partner exists native to the planet and so they’ve adapted) or with species native to other planets. (By the way, I’m speaking exclusively of sex and not of gender, which is...a different concept on her home planet and doesn’t work like it does on Earth!) However, should you have a child with a Themyscirian, all dominant genes will belong to the mother and thus, the child will always be female and always look and function as a Themyscirian. The women of this planet and their culture are steeped in legends and tradition. They are ruled by Matriarchs, and their society is organized the same way. 

      The women of Themyscira are very long lived and while they do not war among themselves, they do have a warrior role in their society, both ceremonial and practical. The warriors of this planet are famous for their prowess and skill, but also their diplomacy and compassion. While Themyscira is a deeply isolationist planet and culture, Diana left home to explore the worlds around her. She is force sensitive and would qualify for becoming a Jedi, had she or her people known what a Jedi was at her birth. While they remained neutral through most conflicts, Diana has always been her own person, and has always been known to fight the good fight, to free slaves, to help the helpless, and to generally unofficially involve herself in things that aren’t any of her business, unwilling to allow injustice to go unchecked.

“I mean. Yes, sure, you could have, but–but you have to remember, I’m still learning. About this. About it being not… not fuzzy.”

It’s a lot of words to express his surprise, maybe, but they’re the words that feel right when Jon is right there and he suddenly wonders what his voice–like, as in his mental voice–sounds like but that seems like a weird question to ask. Is it a weird question to ask? David isn’t sure yet.

“This whole… mind reading thing. It’s not new to you. Right? Is there a reason you didn’t–didn’t get diagnosed as–as–as schizophrenic? Were people nicer to you? Or maybe you just shut up about it more and people didn’t think that you were completely off your rocker because you… were less vocal.”

He pauses. Whistles, low.

“Except you, uh. Do see more stable. I mean–besides the manic thing. You seem a little more… grounded than me. Is that normal? Is that what it’s like when the Haloperidol is finally out of your system?”

He clicks his tongue.

“Sorry that’s… a lot of questions. And talking. You don’t have to answer them all. How are you? Are you doing okay? Are you–you’re not depressed right now, are you?”

      “It’s okay. Let’s uh, sit down. Here, that couch is free.” He smiles and leads David over to the collection of seating, and sits on the edge of the couch, letting his brother find his own place. He can tell his brother is anxious and will happily do whatever he can to alleviate it. “So first, no. It’s not new to me. I couldn’t always do it like, well. At first, I think -- it was a long time ago -- but I think I could sort of feel people before I could hear them.” He hums and shakes his head. 

      “People weren’t nicer, exactly. I was just...I didn’t do it. I mean, I did it. All the time. But I learned that people...they didn’t like it. And they certainly couldn’t do it themselves. It wasn’t something I shared with people, you know? I realized that I was different and...I don’t know. My brain told me that if I didn’t want to be drugged and locked up, I’d have to pretend to be like everyone else. If I wanted people to treat me like a person and not some...whacko, I’d have to be like them. It sucked, right? But like, less than being put in some place like Clockworks. I learned how to be more careful. Not reveal to people that I knew things I wasn’t supposed to know, that sort of thing.