Wonder Woman Annual 2018

Shafts of sunlight highlighted the dust mites hanging in the air of the still-under construction residential quarters. She didn’t mind the mess, it was par for the course, and there was a specific kind of beauty with the way the dust particles danced in the morning light.

“Oh!” Diana smiled as she realised she wasn’t alone and extended a full cup of coffee to the chief architect on the project. “John, you’re here early-- how are the renovations coming?”

“As well as can be expected, your majesty,” said John Stewart, grinning.

Themyscira House, London’s new embassy for Paradise Island and her ambassador, was undergoing a massive overhaul. The Amazons had mainly been represented out in the world by the New York branch of Themyscira House, but one of Diana’s last proclamations as Queen of Paradise Island-- prior to her mother’s return to the land of the living some months prior, and her welcome return to the throne-- was the establishment of numerous embassies around the globe.

“I’m pleased you could find time to visit. I know your responsibilities have taken you away from Earth recently,” she said.

John sipped his coffee. “I wish I was collecting a pay cheque for this, because it’s the easiest job I’ve ever taken on. The team you’ve got in are superb. And the location…”

Made up of fourteen floors and based on Grosvenor Road, just on the edge of the River Thames, Themyscira House’s diplomatic offices made up the first eleven of the stories, while the final three would be Diana’s personal quarters and home away from her island home. Her chambers jutted out from the face of the rest of the building, and gave a fantastic view of the Thames to the south and North London beyond, and the enchanted windows meant that no one could get a peak in.

“We’re very lucky,” Diana replied.

“Anyway, yeah, I thought I’d do a recon on all the work done before our meeting. I know I’m not here as much as I thought I might be, but after what happened with the rest of the guys…*”


“Say no more, John. I understand. Leanne and Rae say they think everything will be completed next month. Are their estimates accurate?”

“Yeah, completely, completely. If you’d let me use the ring, I could have had this place sorted for you in a matter of minutes, but I understand and appreciate what you’re going for.”

She smiled. “No shortcuts. I want this to be a human achievement, and I can’t keep calling in favours with my fellow Justice Leaguers whenever I’d like something doing, can I?”

“You’d be surprised by the favours Batman calls in…” said John, smirking.

Her smile widened. “You boys can keep your secrets. Shall we?” Diana gestured forward, and the pair headed to their meeting with the building’s architects.

The rest of the day was uneventful. With meetings booked every hour, Diana had to make the rounds with various other ambassadors based in London, introducing herself-- even though Wonder Woman was effectively an international celebrity-- and making connections wherever she could.

The evening was another thing entirely.

The top floor of the new Themyscira House had been completed before the others, and it’s there where her bedroom and the portal back home resided. The water worked-- thanks to a slight shortcut between dimensions that allowed the hot springs of Themyscira to pool into her bath-- and that’s all she cared about at the moment.

When she made it to her bedroom she stripped down to her underwear and ran the bath. She flitted her hands beneath the tap, savouring the temperature, and then turned back toward her room, only to see a woman standing next to her bed, smiling seductively.

“Hello, Amazon.”

“Hello… person,” replied Diana.

“Not quite,” said the woman as she licked her lips with a snake’s tongue.

“…Then perhaps you’d like to introduce yourself?”

The woman seemed to glide from one side of the bed to the other, never breaking eye contact with Diana. “You can call me Chantinelle. Do you want a robe or something?”

Diana ignored the question, pressing on with her own. “And what brings you to my home?” She turned off the taps and was acutely aware that her ceremonial Wonder Woman uniform was in the large cabinet behind the stranger, and the Lasso of Truth along with it. The scant clothing she wore right now offered little to no protection.

Chantinelle smiled, her voice a purr. “I couldn’t help myself. London’s boring, but when you moved in… it was like you radiate life. I’ve been trying to resist the pull… but I guess it was too much for me. I’m a moth to your flame.”

The way she spoke, the accent, it was unearthly, unlike anything she’d heard in all her years. Her sisters, the women of Paradise Island who’d helped raise her, they all spoke in their own way, so many languages to be learned across the years, and there were the languages of Patriarch’s World… none of them were remotely similar to the way in which Chantinelle spoke. Hypnotic, almost.

Diana had half crossed the room without thinking, and Chantinelle reached out to her, her fingernails sharp like talons. “Or maybe you’re the moth.”

Caught in a spell, Diana cried out in shock as Chantinelle grabbed her by the bicep, above where her silver gauntlets ended. The world spun, and she felt like up was down and black was white. Reality didn’t make sense, which was particularly bad for someone who’s relationship with the truth was so tightly bound.

“Let it go… just let it go…” whispered Chantinelle, pressing her hand against Diana’s cheek, doubling their skin-to-skin exposure and absorbing more from her in droves.

“Off--!” Diana shoved a palm into her attacker’s sternum, sending her flying backwards, through a bedpost and into the pile of splinters that was created by the split second of action.

“ooph still some fight left in you then, pretty thing,” said Chantinelle, pulling herself up. A sheet of pale skin fell off her arm where it had been shredded by the bed, revealing a scaled, scarlet periderm underneath. She noticed the wound but didn’t seem to care. “…That’ll probably leave a mark.”

Knees weak, but universally defiant, Diana raised her hands into fists, but still wanted to know why this unearthly stranger “Why… have you… come to my home…?”

“Probably the complete lack’a protective enchantment in the foundation of your ivory tower, love,” came a man’s voice, as the doors of the private elevator that led to the residential floors of Wonder Woman’s home, pinged open.

A cloud of smoke announced his arrival into the fight, and if you’d been stood next to him, you would have choked on the stink of tobacco.

“No! Not you!” shrieked Chantinelle, at his arrival.

“Yeah. Me.” He flicked his cigarette down at her feet, and gave a wicked grin. He cleared his throat, clapped his hands together, and began to shout, “Ir ya roza aem Nahemah I gazoth esaeu chowa yiz plac--!”

Her skin suddenly on fire, the demonic interloper shrieked and took a running jump through the window behind the newcomer, crashing fourteen stories to the pavement below. Diana swayed on the spot, her fists still raised, before she collapsed onto her knees.

“Goddess…” she whispered.

“Nah, love. John Constantine,” said the man, extending his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Looking through the shattered remains of her window down to the glass strewn streets below, Diana grimaced. She looked at her hands and saw the colour returning to her flesh. She had, for a moment, felt the closeness of death.

Maybe that wasn’t it, though? She’d fought tooth and nail before, she’d faced gods and monsters, and nearly lost her life in the process. This was different. She had felt the subtraction of something from herself. A loss. Had she been emptied out by the creature? Was it trying to hollow out her insides of something vital?

“You all right there, love?” asked Constantine.”

Brisk English air whipping her hair up around her, Diana stood on the window ledge, considering the events of the last few moments. “What was she? I felt it… trying to… trying to drain me.”

Turning away from her, Constantine shrugged and wrapped his trenchcoat around himself. He was acutely aware of Diana’s state of undress. “Aye, well, they go by a few names, depending on the hole they crawled outta. Succubus, I’d guess. Qarînah maybe, or a Yakshini. They normally climb on top’a blokes trying to catch a few winks, steal their energy through a bit’a rutting.”

“That… doesn’t explain… anything,” said Diana.

John took a peak over his shoulder. “‘Ey, love, you might want to put some clothes on.”

He placed another cigarette in his mouth and took a cheap plastic lighter from his pocket. A second after he lit up, Diana had crossed the space between them and plucked it from his lips, crushing the tip with her fingers and shaking her head. “No smoking. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“I thought I was saving your life, but you’re not very grateful,” he replied.

“You’re a stranger in my home. Don’t mistake gratitude for a blanket excuse for misbehaviour,” said Diana.

“To be honest, I was here because I wanted to seek an audience. I’m a bit of a staple when it comes to these streets. London’s a second home. When I heard you were setting up shop, I thought it were only right to introduce myself.”

“John Constantine. I am Diana, Princess of Themyscira,” she replied.

“Yeah, I am intimately acquainted,” he said, accepting her offered hand.

Diana picked up a gown and put it on. “Why are you Brits so prudish?”

“I like to think we’re polite, but I guess prudish is another word for it. Ah, there’s another reason I came. I wanted to show you something.”

“I already have plans for the evening…” started Diana. “Unless you stop speaking in riddles?”

John headed back to the elevator. “What I wanna show you, it ain’t up here, I can tell you that. You’ll wanna put on some clothes.”

“Not before I know what it is you want to show me.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll quit with the enigmatic routine. I’m a magician, a damn good one, but a damn sight unluckier one at that. Ever since Ares aired his little game’a life and death that resulted in the largest celestial manifestation of all time, my life has been crazy. Angels and demons have come a-knocking and they’ve made it abundantly clear the scales are now out of whack.”

“What do you mean?” Diana asked. She pulled on a pair of black trousers and a white blouse, before completing the ensemble with a pair of patent leather boots and a purple coat.

“Faith. I’m talking about faith. What good is faith when god takes a stroll in front of a bunch of TV cameras? There was a balance, and it was kept that way because no one knew for sure whether or not these celestial beings were real. Now everybody knows they’re real. And that means… well. For every god, there’s a devil. For every light, a dark. For every god that just got outed, every Satan did too.”

“I don’t understand… but I’ll come with you. But first, I need to make a phonecall.”

“Sounds fair.” Constantine gestured toward the elevator. “Then you’ll allow me to be your guide? Let’s take a stroll down London way, shall we?”

Over an hour later, Diana and John still walked the streets of London, making idle conversation as the latter took the lead and drew the princess off the regularly beaten path one might go down.

She still didn’t know what this man wanted, but she was an old-fashioned girl, and if someone saved your life you might as well follow them down a rabbit hole, as far down into the dark as it takes you. She’d been in the dark before. She’d beaten it within an inch of it’s life. The dark wasn’t so scary when you stare it down every other day of your life.

“Your accent. You’re not from London, are you?” she said.

John smiled. “Nah, I’m from Liverpool. Home of the Beatles. The place where dreams go to die.”

“How did you find yourself here?”

“S’where all the good magicks end up. Plus, it’s London. Greatest city in the world. And I’ve been around a few. Even spent a few years walking the backroads of America. Met some weird folks back then. You ever met a guy by the name’a Alec Holland?”

“I can’t say that I have,” she replied.

“Mossy bastard. Don’t even know if he answers to ‘Alec’ anymore. Anyway, I don’t wanna get off topic, but I used to do this kinda thing for him.”

“Lead him down the back alleys of London?”

“Nah, showed him where the trouble was, the sort that only he could deal with. I always thought’a myself as a ‘psychopomp’, y’know? Except it’s not like you’re dead and I’m guiding you into the light. There are better comparisons to make, I’m sure. I’m a shaman. An enabler. Getting folks from point A to B via the path of least resistance.”

“Whatever it is you claim to be, you’re no Charon,” Diana replied.

Charon was the psychopomp of her own belief system-- a belief system she had an intimate knowledge due to the fact she played a major role within it. He was the ferryman of Hades, carrying the souls of the newly deceased across the rivers Styx and Acheron that divided the world of the living from the world of the dead. He charged a single silver coin for the honour, but no monies had exchanged hands between Diana and John yet, and he hadn’t made mention of such a cost…

“And I’m sure you’ve met him, so I’ll accept that. Okay. This is good enough.” He shuffled from foot to foot, and then took a stick of chalk from his pocket. “What I’m about to show you, it ain’t great. And you’ll wanna do something about it, but now’s not the time, y’hear me? We need to be passive observers, or it’ll just get worse.”

“I can’t make any promises, John Constantine,” said Diana.

The air had become cold. She had tried to keep track of where they had ended up, mapping the twists and turns of their walk in her mind’s eye, imposing it over the map of London she held in her head, but the alleys and streets had become blurred, and now she was unsure. She could leap up, hover in the air, and get her bearings there, but she wanted to see this through. Her inate sense of the truth informed her decisions- despite the haze that surrounded Constantine, she felt that he meant well, even if his demeanour was like that of a rogue.

He shrugged, and drew a semi-circle around them, back into a brick wall. As he bent over, gold coins spilled from his pockets, but he laughed and shoved them back inside. "I'm basically a Leprechaun, 'cept prettier." On the wall he drew an array of shapes, and then, closing his eyes and waving the chalk around like it was a conductor’s baton-- or a wand-- whispered, “nobis factus defuit”

The chalk shimmered from their feet to their backs, and if you were on the outside looking in they would have vanished, an invisible barrier having been erected through John’s spell. The space before them took on an alien quality, and John leaned back against the wall, fiddling with his lighter while he waited for events to unfold.

“What sort of spell was that?” asked Diana.

“We’re camouflaged. Anyone out there--” He waved his hand around in front of them. “-- Won’t be able to see inside here. Plus, our voices won’t travel, so we can be flies on the wall, for whatever it’s worth.”

Diana cocked an eyebrow. “Flies on the wall for what?”

A young man came sprinting around the corner, desperate from breath and bleeding from a wound on the side of his head. He darted past their invisible alcove, vanished around another corner, only to cry out and double back. As the pair watched a group of young women followed after him, and then another group converged from the corner he’d retreated back from. The women wore crimson hoodies, and emblazoned on their chests were a very familiar symbol. And they looked angry.

“No…” whispered Diana.

It was her symbol. They wore the symbol of Wonder Woman on their chests.

“Yeah,” said John. He took a cigarette from his inside pocket and flicked it into his mouth. “You got groupies, Lady Di.” She took a step forward, but John grabbed her by the shoulder. “Not a good idea. We’re here to watch. You need to understand what’s going on here.”

“I-- I didn’t know--!” stuttered the young man, cowering in front of the group of nearly twenty young women as they surrounded him, like sharks circling a wounded whale, blood thick in the waters. “I didn’t know she w-was underage!”

“What is this?” Diana asked, turning to John and slapping the cigarette out his mouth when she noticed him about to light up. “What are you showing me?”

“We saw the DMs, Terry,” said the tallest of the women. “You knew what you were doing. And now you have to pay the price. We don’t allow paedos and molesters like you to walk our streets.”

“Ever since you declared for Ares, people ‘been putting you and his names’ together, like it means something. Wonder Woman ain’t for war, she’s for peace, but try telling these girls that.”

One of the girls took out a butterfly knife and flicked it open. “She’s my sister. You were gonna to hurt her.”

Inside the magical forcefield, Diana shook her head incredulously. “You’re trying to say… they’ve perverted my message? Right under my nose?”

“Well…. Yeah. That’s kinda what I’m getting at,” replied John.

“Time to pay the price, y’sick bastard,” said the tallest of the women.

She motioned to the other girls to hold the man steady, and then the girl with the knife nervously stepped forward, the blade shaking in her hand--

“You’re not gonna use this as an opportunity to save him?” asked John.

Diana smiled.

“I-- I can’t do this,” said the girl. She dropped the weapon, and her shoulders slumped forward, like she’d been defeated. “It’s not right.”

The tallest girl shook her head. “Of course it’s right! It’s what Wonder Woman would do! You’ve seen her, talking about how you should extend your hand first, offer understanding or whatever, but when push came t’ shove, she shot an arrow through Batman’s heart! She declared for Ares! This is her way-- underneath it all, this is what she wants!”

“No, she doesn’t,” said another one of the girls, her American accent yawning out from under her hood.

“And what do-- oh, σκατά,” hissed the tallest girl, her British accent slipping when she spotted the speaker.

“This isn’t how we solve this,” said Cassie Sandsmark, pulling down her hood. “That’s not the way of Wonder Woman. And I should know.”

“You know nothing of your patron!” growled the tallest girl, her skin and clothing tearing away to reveal the violent goddess she was beneath it all. As well as her plate armour, she wore a silver helmet and held aloft a crackling torch. “But if you insist on dying in her name, I’ll happily oblige you!”

Cassie smirked. “I’d really like to see you try, Discordia.”

John was taken aback. “Discordia? As in, the goddess of strife, and war wife of Ares? Oh, bollocks.”

Diana shook her head solemnly. “Did you really think a group of young women committing vigilante acts in my name would be beneath my notice? Do you know so little of me?”

“I mean, I feel like you kinda spun a globe around and jammed your finger down to decide where your embassy was gonna land,” replied John, with a shrug.

Cassie turned to the young women, who had backed away quickly from the newly revealed Discordia. “You need to get away. We’ll take it from here. If you really want to know how to live your life to the best of your beliefs then keep faith an trust to love… or something. That’s what Diana always tells me, anyway. I’ll hit you up in the group chat! She’ll want to meet you!” She turned her attention to the goddess before her. “And you. Screw you. Taking these girls and getting in their heads. Who do you think you are?”

Discordia seemed to grow as she spoke, each step bringing her closer to her enemy, who paled in comparison. Lightning lashed from her mouth, the skies threatened to break with a thunderous rage, and she exuded hatred like it was her domain. “I, whose wrath is relentless, loyal companion of murderous Ares! With every action I grow until I stride upon the earth with my head striking heaven! I will hurl down bitterness equally between both sides and walk through the onslaught making men's pain heavier! I am-- wait, you said ‘we’ll take it from here’?”

John looked to where Diana had been stood a moment before, but she was long gone. She took a step out the forcefield he’d erected, spun around on the spot with such speed as to be blinding, and when she came to a stop she was clad in her official uniform-- that of Wonder Woman.

“That would be me, Lady Discordia,” said Diana. She extended her hand out. “I beseech you, parlay?”

“Parlay? You seek parlay? I seek revenge! And your petty attempts at distraction shall not work on me!”

“Cassie, please see to the girls. Make sure this area is clear,” said Diana.

“Y’sure? I don’t mind sticking around and throwing some punches,” replied the young Wonder Girl.

“I have all I need right here,” she said.

Cassie did as she was told and hopped into the air, leaving her mentor to face the raging goddess solo!

“You have nothing!” bellowed Discordia.

The goddess waved her torch so that the flames streaked out in a jagged arc, and they solidified with a twist of her hand. She slammed her unearthly weapon down, only for Wonder Woman to throw her wrists up and catch it on her gauntlets, causing a shower of sparks and globules of liquid fire to fly every which way.

“I’m not trying to distract you. I’m trying to talk to you,” said Diana.

“The time for talk is over! I saw what you did. We all saw. You betrayed your values, your patron! Declared for my love, and then betrayed him! He was on the cusp of greatness, and you toppled him off that lofty peak, for what, humanity?”

“…Well, you’re half right.”

Discordia slammed her weapon down again, but this time Wonder Woman managed to slip either side of her wrists around the intensely hot shaft of the flame sword, and with a twist of her gauntlets, the fires cracked and shattered!

“Sow!”

“That’s rude, love,” said John Constantine, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “Name-calling ain’t exactly nice, is it?”

“Who are you?” growled Discordia.

“Just your friendly neighbourhood warlock. I’m a bit of an idiot, y’see. Thought Lady Di here didn’t have a clue what was going on under her nose, but turns out I’m the dull one, y’know? And me, being the gentleman I am, have decided to roll up my sleeves and muck in.”

“Constantine, I don’t need you to talk right now,” said Diana.

Mid-sleeve roll, John looked up at Diana, cigarette hanging limply from his lips and said, “oh.”

He rolled his sleeves back down, put his hands up, and backed up so he vanished inside his forcefield at the edge of the battlefield.

“Enough distractions!” declared Discordia.

She was about to regenerate her torch-blade when Wonder Woman lowered her wrists and pointedly asked, “Are there enough distractions to keep you from the fact that Ares abandoned you, as much as he did his mantle as God of War?”

The Goddess was taken aback. “You-- you-- dare?!”

Wonder Woman shook her head. “I cannot imagine what it was like, storming the battlefields of times past beside your beloved, only for time to truly pass and for him to abandon you and the purity of your intentions… discord for the sake of progression, only for him to seek petty vengeance on those he despised. For someone who thrived on war, he never truly grasped what that entailed, did he?”

“You know not of what you speak…”

“I can only speak the truth in these matters, Lady Discordia. He sought to destroy my sisters, but he didn’t stop there, did he? Time and again, he sought to bring humanity under his boot heel, but where would war be then? If he were to conquer all, what conflict would there be? Your beloved was mad, and there is such sadness there. You did not deserve it. Ares’ purpose did not deserve to be corrupted by his own nature.”

“He… betrayed me… betrayed our cause…” admitted Discordia.

“And then united with the Witch Queen to subjugate mankind. That’s not the Ares you knew. He was never so conniving, was he? War for war’s sake was never what you coveted, was it? War for the sake of progress, just as your discord was sown with purpose. Ares was mad, and even now he manipulates you from his imprisonment on Mount Olympus. I will deny him the satisfaction, my lady.”

Wonder Woman bowed her head and took a knee. “If you insist on pursuing this course of action, I will not stand in your way. But to him, you are a weapon, and not the equal you once were. Your purpose is still true, and you can prove that in this century. As I believe in my patron Athena, I believe that all is possible with belief behind it.”

Discordia loomed over Wonder Woman and considered her torch.

Moments later, there was a heavy thud, and when Diana looked up she saw that the Goddess of Strife had vanished and laying on the floor before the Princess of the Amazons was her weapon, left at the champion’s feet.

Diana said a prayer and reverentially picked the torch up, and then watched John Constantine emerge from where he’d been hiding. “I appreciate your intentions, if not your execution of said intentions, John Constantine.”

“I was practically useless. Damn shame, that,” he admitted.

“In future, if we are to cross paths in London, I recommend you be more forthcoming with your truth, rather than clumsily attempt to lead me by the nose across the city,” she said.

“Okay, I get it, I get it, and I’m sorry. I’ll be leaving now. I gotta admit… I’m impressed by your work. Didn’t think you’d end that fight without throwing a punch. Impressive, love.”

“Don’t call me ‘love’,” she said.

He raised his hands. “Fair. Be seeing you.”

“Did you get what you wanted?” asked Chantinelle, smoking the most rancid cigarillos you could ever smell while looking across the Thames toward the O2 Arena.

The demoness had mostly healed from her initial fracas with Wonder Woman, but was still spitting out small shards of glass from the fall taken from the balcony. As she looked across the way toward the visitor, her hollowed, smashed cheek filled out and muscle knitted back together. From that point forward, she looked like perfection.

Tucking his coat under him, Constantine took a seat next to her on the stone bench, and glanced around the upmarket flats that were situated around him. He hated the pretence, but god damn if the view weren’t a fine one. “I always do, Elle.”

The succubus smiled. “You do give me the most fun with your little distractions. And the best morsels too. I haven’t tasted Amazon like that for five hundred years.”

John stuck his hand in his coat and pulled out his cigarettes. He’d had to buy a new packet since Diana kept slapping them out of his hand. “And it all worked out in the end. Your appearance allowed me to break into the mystical armoury that Wonder Woman keeps in that embassy of hers. A weird little pocket dimension, all of her own. Full of all the best kind of trinkets.”

“What was it you were after, anyway?” she asked.

"All that effort, digging up that info on that girly murder cult, and it ended up being for nothing, and nobody even died. Plus, there was an actual god damn god running the show, tweaking those kiddies' brains and making them get a mad on. Bear with me, bear with me..." Groping around inside the other side of his coat, he pulled out an ornate headband, and spun it around his index finger. “This fancy bit of hardware is the ‘the Crown of Aletheia’. Lets the bearer see the truth, no matter what. I also stole gold. As much gold as I could stuff in my pockets.”

“What do you mean? The crown, I mean. I get the gold.”

John smirked. “Look at you now. Beautiful woman. Mid-twenties. Drop dead, like.” He placed the crown on his head and then blinked-- and nearly wretched when he saw Chantinelle’s true form. He quickly removed it and tried to catch his breath. “God. That was stupid. Yeah. Anyway. With it on, you look your age and your upbringing.”

“Why would you need something like that?” She punctuated her question by punching him in the stomach, a playful gesture but painful considering her demon-borne strength. She didn’t like his little slights, even if they were meant in as close to jest as he could manage.

“Been reading the tea leaves, in’I? Portents and omens, all pointing toward something nasty coming, and the face this nasty wears ain’t its own. I’m working on something… and this piece of beauty is a missing piece of the puzzle I’ll need to get the full picture.”

“Right. Well. Glad you got your weird little mission sorted then, Johnny boy. I’m gonna sleep off the best meal I’ve had all year, and then go prowling for a lay. You know where to find me if you need to con a superhero again, okay?”

“Sure thing, love,” said John, saluting Elle as she went on her way.