It was probably fair that she was a bit stunned and out of sorts, but Diana had always held herself to better standards than most, and she would be shamed by her fear. After all, the daughters of Themyscira knew no fear, except that that was just outright lies. Everyone knew fear at some point, and Diana had learned her own fear on a dark night all the way back in 1918. It was somewhat comforting to her, thinking of that night, because no matter how dim the circumstances here, she was not reliving that night again, and that was a good thing. Something to hold on to.
Additionally, though it was actually quite dim here currently, Tony had rigged up this cunning little electricity corner, and Diana was impressed by that. “So trust them no more or less than I would the average human, then,” she said with a shrug, and that seemed fair enough. As Tony himself had said, that was typical mileage anywhere, although that was not quite a phrase Diana was familiar with. Still, she had enough context clues to sort it out, despite the vernacular being somewhat different for humans that she was used to.
“Of course it doesn’t,” she said after he’d finished, and her tone was exasperated and yet somehow amused. “I don’t suppose I should expect to get my armor back anytime soon, then?” She didn’t truly need it, unless some of the dangers Tony mentioned happened to be in the form of guns (and a fair few of them, really), but it would’ve been nice to have if she was going to be on some kind of battlefield.
Diana smoothed her hands over the pants she’d shown up in, leaving her coffee mug on a nearby surface for the time being. There were tables and all sorts of things all over this room, and Diana did not have to move at human speed to take advantage. “I arrived here in these clothes which are not mine, and are certainly not my armor. They do fit, though. That is nice.” Small favors, and all that jazz.