In truth, Diana loved most places on Earth. She rarely had a bad experience, even when she was forced to fight or take part in some larger awful cause, there were still moments of pure joy and sunshine. In any case, they both had experience with New York as a state and the city itself, including its smaller boroughs, and that was well enough for Diana. She had no difficulty finding common ground, which was laughable when one considered the situation on paper.
She had never seen The Office, because Diana wasn’t much for media, but the face she made as Peter asked if Themyscira was in South America would have fit right in. “No, it isn’t. It’s shielded from the eyes of mortals,” she explained, as though that was a normal thing to say to someone. Despite being so friendly, Diana spent a lot of time alone, and things like this were why. Particularly as Peter continued.
“I do not have a brain thing, so I think I am probably not dead. And I am quite a bit older than thirty,” she said, with just the slightest hint of a smile. Peter was about seven hundred years short, give or take a few decades, but she supposed it wasn’t every day that he bumped into someone like that. “I was nearing eight hundred when I left Themyscira. I think. We don’t count birthdays the way humans do.”