[The heat doesn't bother Diana; she's from a tropical island, after all. What does bother her is the appearance of all of these spirits, and their immediate aggression. She's tried talking to some of them, urging them to return to the Underworld, but it's no use. They continue terrorizing the people of this city, threatening harm, and the options left to her are both few and grim.
She has not yet found a replacement for God-Killer, and so her shield and her own hands are her only weapons. They are enough, of course, but they also make everything... messy.
Trying very hard not to think about all the ectoplasm under her nails and on her armor, she happens across a man yelling about heroes and his clothes. She envies him his dagger. Diana grabs the cape of an approaching specter, keeping it from leaping on him, and throws it behind her into the nearest brick wall. She does not look back at the splatter it leaves.]
You care so much for your clothing? [She sounds amused. But also:] Why would this be your fault?
i.
She has not yet found a replacement for God-Killer, and so her shield and her own hands are her only weapons. They are enough, of course, but they also make everything... messy.
Trying very hard not to think about all the ectoplasm under her nails and on her armor, she happens across a man yelling about heroes and his clothes. She envies him his dagger. Diana grabs the cape of an approaching specter, keeping it from leaping on him, and throws it behind her into the nearest brick wall. She does not look back at the splatter it leaves.]
You care so much for your clothing? [She sounds amused. But also:] Why would this be your fault?