closed | maybe I’m meant for the sea

[eusebeia]

who: Karen Page + Diana of Themyscira
what: Two badass ladies mourning over their broken hearts together ... eyebrow waggle
when: February 16
where: One of the beaches along the river
warnings: None yet!



[ it's been a long, arduous month for diana. tempted by the promise of earning a glimpse of her future, she accepted the offer readily, only to feel devastated by the truth. steve trevor had warned her, yet there's a sharp distinction between knowing what will occur and experiencing it.

when she stirred from her trance, her heart was shattered yet again — she lost him for a second time, and his absence haunts her to this day. with time, the ache dwelling in her chest has slowly started to subside, but it will never fully fade.

she drifts to the river, yearning for the serenity of the sand and sea. wearing a crimson sundress, diana turns her head to glance at the water. ]

Comments

[paged]

[ Karen barely notices her at first. She's sitting down on the shore, legs drawn up to her chest and arms wrapped around them, her chin resting on her knees as she looks out at the river. The fading light from the sunset glitters on the surface. It's been slowly growing dimmer and she barely notices that, either. It's been several days since she last talked to Poe and after what was said, she doesn't know if she'll ever talk to him again.

Not when she's contemplated leaving, asking if there was a way she could. The pain is still as raw as the day it had happened and she hates herself for it. It was so stupid to fall for anyone here. And she always seems to do it with the guys that have some... higher calling or war to wage or mission they feel they need to complete. She's the one getting left behind and it never stops hurting when it happens.

She rubs at her burning eyelids before finally looking away from the water. She almost jumps at the sight of Diana. But she stays where she is, looking back out at the water again. After a long moment, she clears her throat, ]

The last time I was here, snow was all over this place. Now... it's like it never happened.

[eusebeia]

[ she's spent the past few weeks alone — succumbing to solitude despite her best efforts. even now, a part of diana wants to turn away, ignoring this solemn stranger's statement. however, she knows she can't.

she did that once, for countless years, but not anymore. she learned how to move on rather than close herself off from humanity, and it appears that she must learn this lesson again.

isolating herself isn't the solution, and it's apparent from karen's expression, that she has suffered too. diana's brow furrows with compassion, as a soft exhale escapes from her lips. ]

The passage of time. It feels cruel, but it can also heal.

[paged]

[ She scoffs at that. She can't help it. But she nods, ]

Then I wish that 'passage' would move a little faster.

[ She knows she was able to heal from breaking things off with Matt but she had been able to distract herself then. Here, in this place? It feels too small suddenly. ]

[eusebeia]

[ her lips curve into an amused smirk. while diana is empathetic and optimistic at her core, she is also no stranger to sorrow or cynicism. ]

It never seems fast enough.

[ folding her arms, she steps closer to karen. ]

But the snow must melt before spring can come.

[paged]

[ For the first time in days, she actually smiles. She tries not to but her lips twist into one and she just... goes with it, shaking her head. ]

I walked right into that one...

[ She reaches up to tuck some hair behind her ear but looks back over at the other woman. ]

What's your name?

[eusebeia]

[ diana returns that smile, fond and warm, as she leans down to join her on the shore. although her own anguish hasn't vanished yet, simply providing comfort to someone else has diminished it. ]

Diana. And you are?

[paged]

[ Diana's smile is beautiful. And contagious enough to make Karen's wider. She ducks her head slightly before giving her name, ]

Karen.

How long have you been here, Diana?

[eusebeia]

[ "too long" is the truthful answer. ]

Months. I imagine it's the same for you.

[ judging by her earlier reaction. diana's smile fades, as she grows more contemplative. ]

[paged]

[ She nods, ]

Yeah. Just in time for the harvest festival they had.

[ When things had still been so new and different from how she felt now. ]

[eusebeia]

[ she nods, recalling that time as well. the festivals here were always such glorious displays, enough to distract her momentarily from her mission to halt the horror of ares. when she first arrived, she was so obstinate in her goal of returning home. her determination never vanished, but diana has gained the wisdom of patience since then. ]

Are you missing your home? [ she offers a kind, yet knowing look. ] Or something else?

[paged]

[ She breathes out a huff through her nose, shaking her head slightly as her chin goes back on her knees. ]

There's not much to miss there.

[ Which isn't entirely true but she still feels safer there than she did in Hell's Kitchen. ]

I'm not really missing anything.

[ Just trying to will away hurt that can't be forgotten that easily. ]

[eusebeia]

[ her frown deepens in concern. she's not missing anything, but the melancholy on her countenance is undeniable. perhaps she's mourning over something lost, then. ]

A broken heart. Is that what ails you?

[ she speaks gently, shifting to place a hand over one of her own. ]

[paged]

[ She looks at the hand and then Diana, shocked but silent for a long moment before finally swallowing hard. ]

That obvious?

[eusebeia]

I've seen that look before.

[ her expression softens. she squeezes karen's hand before releasing it. ]

Worn it myself.

[paged]

[ Now it's her turn to frown yet there's a small sense of hope curling in her at the prospect of-- ]

Is that why you're out here?

[ Though she's quick to follow up with: ]

Uh-I'm sorry. I shouldn't be asking that. That's none of my business.

[ She looks away again, embarrassed and running her hand through her hair, the gesture an extension of that embarrassment and mentally kicking herself for assuming that sort of thing. ]

[eusebeia]

[ while karen turns contrite and reticent, diana never wavers. her confidence is strong, yet quiet. ]

Yes.

[ her vision drifts to the water in front of them, once again. the memory of steve trevor still stings like an open wound. however, diana is willing to make an effort to open up, in order to gain her trust. ]

I lost someone I loved. Twice.

[paged]

[ She stills at the confirmation she hadn't at all expected to get. Slowly, she looks back to Diana and the ache in her chest is for a whole different reason. Her voice is soft but earnest, ]

I'm so sorry.

[eusebeia]

Don't be.

[ she shakes her head to dismiss the apology, then shifts her gaze to glance at karen. ]

It was just as difficult the second time. I've tried to move on instead of closing myself off, but— [ there's a slow exhale that escapes from her lips. ] It's still a work in progress.

[paged]

[ She nods slowly, her arms squeezing her legs for a moment on reflex. She looks back at the water because it feels easier to admit what she feels when she isn't looking at the other woman. ]

I've tried moving on before but...I don't think I'm very good at it. I think I'm just good at burying things, pretending like it doesn't hurt as much as it does.

[ She shouldn't be admitting these kinds of things to someone that's basically a stranger. But... the chance to talk to someone else that feels the same, to someone that knows even a fraction of what she's going through (or more) is just something she can't turn down.

There was a part of her that is so desperate to stop hurting but more than that, a part of her that wanted to hear from someone else 'I know how you feel'. ]

[eusebeia]

[ in some respects, it's almost like staring into a mirror. although diana has developed considerable strength and confidence from when she first encountered the world of mankind, she's still working on lowering her own emotional barriers. ]

It's part of being human. You should not lose hope, Karen.