[sup]Robinson Park, Gotham
Ivy’s Greenhouse
Evening;[/sup]

[hr]

[indent]Dr. Pamela Isley, or as she was better known, Poison Ivy, had been alone with her plants for a while now, her last stint in Arkham was in the past - and she was looking forward - or trying to. It just happened to be, well, [i]boring[/i], to live in her partial garden. She raised her arms above her head, fingers interlocking as she stretched, humming a melody to the evening, and the sprawling life around her. 

Vines, spread across the floor, flowing and flowering - knots and roots intertwined into a carpet of viridian. The woman walked daintily across it, moving her arms in time to her song.


She gracefully took to the branch of a tree which spilled in through an open window, climbing out and into the night - the cold air felt like kisses on her skin and she almost smiled. As she moved near silently across the canopy, she heard voices from below. Usually, people at this time of the night kept far away from the pavilion, but this man was bold. 

In his hand was a blade, the shine flickering in the moonlight as he held it in the direction of a woman on her own. Older, tired - probably on her way home from a night shift and having to deal with this. Ivy continued to observe, quietly.

“Come on, just give me your purse,” he said, his steps and movements were anxious. That made him dangerous. 

She fidgeted and raised her hands, “look I don’t have anything for you - I have no money,” she pleaded.

“Just give,” breathed the mugger, drawing nearer, “me your purse, your phone.” His voice had gotten low, he’d found his composure enough to bring their distance to inches.

[i]CRACK![/i]

No sooner had he cleared the distance, than he was up in the air - suspended by his left foot - gripped and constricted by a vine. The knife dropped blade first, dropping into the graveled path.

“You’re on the wrong side of the park,” purred Ivy as she moved down from the tree - in the dark and obscurity it appeared that she floated down. “You want to mug someone, you do it on the other side-”

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“Hey!” said the woman “th-thanks,” she interrupted - Ivy turned to face her - eyes transfixed to her as she clutched her crocodile purse close to her chest.

“You’re on the wrong side too. I suggest you start running,” Ivy warned. She took her advice.

Still hanging upside down from his foot, the mugger protested - curses and inflammatory language.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Ivy asked, moving closer towards him. She smirked. It was a constant battle - her desire to stay out of Arkham. She was already on thin ice enough. But [i]this[/i]... This criminal was like a fly that had landed in her web. The vine tightened around his ankle and he yelped. “You stepped on my flowers,” she said.

Ivy didn’t want to kill the man, only warn him, teach him a lesson - make him think twice about his actions in the future. 

[i][b]BANG![/b][/i]

Her train of thought immediately derailed as soon as she heard it - the explosion. Even from her spot, she could see as the flames roared up into the sky, smoke billowing out and covering the moon. “Oh, now that’s interesting,” she said absent-mindedly to herself, completely forgetting the man in the vine. “LEXCORP,” Ivy said. She wanted to see them burn more than she wanted to punish a simple wannabe-criminal. Besides, didn’t this town have Baby Bats and Kittens for that? 

She crouched down to pick up the blade. It was a pocket-knife, stupid really. She felt the tip of the blade with her fingers and chuckled.

“I guess it’s your lucky day,” she sang out, placing it just out of reach of him, before heading out towards the source of the explosion - in no real hurry, and in her own world. 

If he was smart enough, he’d figure it out himself. 

 [/indent]