When Poison Seeks Out A Scare [Scarecrow]

[POISON IVY]

Giving most of her children water and some nutrients allowed them to flourish. It seemed to be quite similar with the Scarecrow. She offered a bit of affection, and planted an idea to have him flower. The smirk might have marred his features of an already unflattering face, but it was the darkness in his voice, and his manner that had her enraptured.

Her heart slowed as her eyes widened in awe as the monitors revealed themselves and in each screen were more of his patients that he was experimenting on. There was not fear, but awe as she took all of the images in and slowly a frightening smile replaced that awe. There was also fascination and admiration as she stepped away from Jonathan to observe each monitor and each seemed ever more gruesome than the next. This gross display of madness also had shown her Crow's strength and it only reinforced her own thoughts that this would be an incredible union if he was able to manage to do this for her.

The transformation from the meek to this darker more imposing figure had Poison Ivy taken aback but a bit turned on by the aura and the strength that he had revealed. It seems that she had underestimated him as another random human. Then he was standing on front of her, his hand cupping her chin promising her fear. Her own green eyes gleamed with hunger and delight as she nodded gently. “Yes. I want her to destroy them turn their own fears on themselves if they ever dare to hurt my family. I want this.” She said with longing as she gestured to his monitors.

His next transformation had her cautious wondering how to answer his question. He knew that she did not go on a crime spree for something as boring and uninteresting as money. It is only done when it was a means to an end. She was not about to think Jonathan was brave or foolish enough to ask for her in the bargain both knowing that even with as many inoculations and anti-toxins, it would not get everything and she could not keep her nature at bay. No, he would not be longing for her to forget everything, to take on a death wish to be with her? The thoughts did confuse her and it did not sit well with her.

Poison Ivy pulled her chin out of his gentle touch and drew closer having wanting to do so since she had seen his work. His wild genius mind attracted her like honey to a bear and then she kissed him back, exploring and tasting, enjoying the moment once again this time because she had initiated it. She kept her toxic nature at bay to thoroughly enjoy this moment as if there were no labels or other more lethal factors that kept them apart. When the kiss finally ended, she pulled back only slightly still in his embrace and whispered, “I do not believe I have anything to give, but what did you have in mind?”

[Scarecrow]

Jonathan Crane, no..the Scarecrow had been elated looking at his work, thinking he found within a compatriot mind, a peer like himself as fanatical about her field of study as she was of her own. And so displaying it might be akin to a normal person showing off a prize possession or a prized work they'd toiled endlessly, laboriously over. Fear was an end in and of itself, and watching the convulsing, the pain, the horror, the horror of them all! it was exhilarating for him. It couldn't have possibly been more.

He knew that even among his supposed rogue brethren he was considered one not to be trifled with, he didn't have the shrewd or pragmatic nature of the likes of Harvey two face, who'd go on a bank robbing spree or intermtitenly take over gotham's criminal underworld. The clientele and business acumen of the Penguin, the ruthlessness of Black mask. Nor was he nearly as unpredictable as the likes of the Joker, as vicious as the killer croc, he stood at all grounds in a fair middle, a jack of all trades. But with his fear, with his toxin he was a god above all, and to know that there were others that shared his mind, valued his abilities and input, it was nearly everything he'd ever hoped for.

That said when her lips pressed to his, to feel that sensation, that wanting, that desire, and it not be a single and wholly one sided affair it was almost a novel experience for him. She hadn't realized it then but when she so ensconced him in an affectionate web, surrounding him with a rather sick and perverse form of physical desire spurred on by the equally macabre images he flooded the darkened room with she was in fact giving him all he'd ever really wanted in one fell swoop. Not only a form of professional amelioration by acknowledging the brilliance of his work, but the desire that welled within was proof enough that he was a man desperate in need of the touch of a warm hand.

The kiss he returned was equally as assertive and perhaps as perverse as the innards of this man's twisted psyche. He had such welled desire and passion that burned hotter than the flaming skull of the headless horsemen for which Crane shared a namesake. He pressed her to him and his hands roved and his body nearly quaked with all the feeling that had built within him. Finally, when it was over his eyes, gentle and brown despite a savage, foul nature the man who beheld them had, closed so gingerly. The breath he let out though not entirely measured but was certainly vexed, exasperated. It was perhaps as if he'd come to some great relaxation then, like his hunger or desires had finally been slated, that he may well finally be content.

And so, his voice was low, guttural. "Oh Ivy..." carrying with it a tone that might well have signified all the above, as if he were now a totally satisfied man, penitent, or if perhaps, given such a thing he desired even more.

Jonthan's tones of gratitude and desire were only melodic parodies of the Scarecrow's terror inducing tones when he continued in response to her whisper. "I'm sure I can think of something. A blank check then. Something most would fear to bequest upon the Scarecrow." with that he began the laborious calculations that might entail what they were going to do, he knew it would take time for a fusion of their two particular minds with very differing sensibilities and tastes to work in congress, and he found even his dark mind filled with wonder at what the final product may be.

Their work would come to fruition months later with the creature they'd created, dangerous as a venus fly trap and large enough to easily swallow a man whole, who's gaping maw spewed fear toxins it produced. A nasty piece of work if the Scarecrow had said so himself, and he had to admit being a good measure of envious he could not concoct such a thing on his own, though their collaboration had it's merits and advantages throughout it's interim.

[POISON IVY]

Maybe there would have been a day or time that the two rumbled and uninteresting couple would have struck up a rather interesting union. Both seemed to follow down similar paths before their minds snapped being tired of their reality and making something of it. The kiss was just that a kiss. A stolen moment, while her mind told her it was for the safety of her children.

She could pretend that the kiss did not affect her, but she would not let that distract her from her path. Inwardly, getting close to anyone would just open her up to being hurt and she knew that it would quickly turn unhealthy and desiccate. Not that she was even worried of the man cheating on her, there came a point in every relationship that something would end up sucking the very life out of both people that were foolish enough to make a union. A gentle frown settled upon her lips as if she were deep in thought, but in actuality she was scaring herself by such strange thoughts. Her eyes opened as he called her name in a soft voice that almost sound like a growl.

The mention of a blank check did cause her frown to re-appear as she thought it through. It almost seemed as if she was standing in front of a fire and about to step in when asked to. Scarecrow's words did not help with weighing the pros and cons of allowing him a blanket favour knowing that it might just end up blowing up in her face like one of Joker's cakes pranks. There was no time to think this through having already come this far just to stop when the prize was within her grasp. So as if signing her soul away to the devil, she nodded gently, “Okay.” Pamela ignored the feeling as if a noose just tightened around her neck as she exhaled and managed a smile.

Work would help alleviate some of the anxiety and she worked beside Jonathan day and night trying to make her child viable. There were just as many trials due to how temperamental her child was, but through it all she was strong. Scarecrow giving her the ability to spew out his fear toxin and even giving it opportunity for it to be her defense mechanism. It was all so glorious that she was amazed that it was even accomplished.

Fingertips gently grazed her child and placed a kiss upon the hideous plant infused with pride and adoration. “Beautiful.” She murmured softly wondering when she would be able to take her child home. “You have done a magnificent job, Crow. Thank you.” Pamela said happily with the sweetest smile upon her blood red lips. “When do you think she will be ready for transport?” She then asked ready to take her home before deciding where she was needed the most and how to begin replicating and creating more like her.

[Scarecrow]

Jonathan stood now in the trappings of his "Scarecrow" persona, save the solitary mask she'd discarded sometime before. In the time that it had taken him to concoct, craft this little slice of nightmare he'd needed the full of concentration and all of his ability, and science through the holes in his mask was cumbersome indeed. And so he seemed to peck away at an electronic pad, a tablet with various notes and measurements, on his pointed nose sat haphazard his frames, thin as the man himself as he peered to the work infront of him, not yet acknowledging the presence of the green queen of mean.

"Her fear toxin output has increased by 60%. I'd say given that she is now flowering she has reached a pubescent stage of her life cycle. Given an estimate if I were inclined to make one I'd say she could produce enough fear gas to envelop a city block. With time I'd expect that number to increase logarithmically. With a half dozen this city would be buried in fear, wallowing in it. " it almost was amazing- if not terrifying- how quickly and in such deep contrast Jonathan Crane went from cold, clinical doctor and psychiatrist to the darkness, the agony and terror that was the Scarecrow. There was such forcefulness in his voice as he carried out the ending of the sentence, such vigor and power. The creature itself reared what would liberally be referred to as it's head, more like the terminal folds of the jaws of a venus fly trap, letting out what sounded like a ghostly wail by virtue of undulating and vibrating the bud and long lashing, looping stem of it's body.

And from the cacophony and from the innards of it's gaping maw spewed fear gas as it did. And when it did this the doctor; the Scarecrow spoke perhaps as a doctor in a delivery room might, or a child psychologist, certainly not this Frankenstein, this creature creator that he was, this avatar of terror. "A daughter's call for mother, I'd say." his voice almost seemed congenial as did his manner when he gestured to the creature leading Ivy with the utmost care. Almost as if he'd been wanting to keep something precious, vital from her. Of course she was already so enveloped in the creature, kissing it, fawning over it in the most puerile ways.

Ever green as she was he knew she'd be swept away by her new "baby" and pay ever little head to the Scarecrow, a necessary evil, the devil she knew, and so he set out to another room quietly where he had the beginnings of a new plant in this ones image, it would be even greater, even more powerful and deadly and vicious, he'd give Ivy the prototype with her none the wiser that his crowning achievement was save and secure and would blanket the entire coast in his fear toxin. Just the thought brought a twisted smile on his lips.

But he knew the creature would require essential nutrients from it's flowering family member, the thought that he'd have to possibly share his secret with that woman, her greedy green thumbs grasping at all he'd worked so hard on to give NOTHING back. It vexed him so. It angered him. And when he set it down into the soil nearby hoping she'd remain oblivious too taken up by the sideshow to see the main event, he knew this was a calculated risk. He'd have thought being some kind of green flower child she'd have left the thing's side since it's incubation period.

"As for transportation. I wouldn't worry about that. Our more immediate concern is testing her capabilities. Don't you think?" he approached the lady, pressing his advantage as he pressed his hands to her shoulders ever slightly. Attempting clearly to coax her in this endeavor. There was ever the hint, a bash over the skull that Jonathan was not a trustworthy partner no matter how enthralled he might be, he had his own desires, agendas, his own sensibilities. He knew she didn't trust him and he knew that he was far too enveloped in her charms to deny creating her what he'd created for her, a thing that represented much hard work and toil on his part, but as it were, as he played this game with her, trick or treat, he'd been tricked, she'd given a treat, and now it was his turn.

[POISON IVY]

While Jonathan Crane prepped and crafted his little piece of science, Pamela Isley made sure that whatever he did would become viable when it would be implanted in her child. As he tinkered and made his calculations adjusting and experimenting, it all seemed quite similar to that of a mad scientist. Quietly, she observed Scarecrow in his natural habitat and she tried not to admit how well they managed to work together. If someone had told her that they would be working together, she would have scoffed and melted her mind with a kiss.

Here she was listening to Jonathan as he mentioned that her child's output and reviewed the charts that were available. The mention of a city block made her smile as she watched the man the transformation from awkward, to cold and clinical to the madness that was the Scarecrow. He held a uniqueness that managed to allow her to tolerate him and even like him. This is not anything she would ever admit to though and immediately told herself that leaving as soon as the project was completed would be ideal.

A slender green hued hand gently caressed her child as she spoke. There was fear and a bit of pain, but soothing followed to remind the child that she would soon be the family's guardian. Words were not necessary as she exchanged adoration and admiration with the creature as she grew and accepted the alterations. Despite Jonathan's thoughts, no matter how she tried to escape the lies that festered within, she knew that the villain could not be trusted entirely. She often hoped that her own children were able to thrive without her, but realistically, they only got that way with her green touch.

If she knew about what Scarecrow was really planning, it would have been rather difficult not to smite him immediately as he kidnapped her child to make it better and stronger without her knowledge. It was her idea and her children that she had given to make this dream a possibility just to be stabbed in the back. Pamela had watched as Jonathan had disappeared for a moment, just to come back to answer her question about transportation.

"Oh yes, you raise a good point, Crow. What does your devious mind have planned for her?" She asked as a concerned mother, but also as if both parents were about to take their love child out on an outing, or date. It seemed that at some point she must have hurt and bruised her brain again reminding herself that this was all temporary and she would soon be rid of the man, or may need to dispose of him if needed. The feelings were rather disturbing and it was rather difficult to be cold and unobtainable while trying to be flirtatious and seductive. A measure of it spilled over onto her own emotions and a gentle exhale escaped as she stretched. "It will be good to go out, test her and get a breath of fresh air. I am missing my conservatory."

[Scarecrow]

Finally when Scarecrow spoke he knew he had the poisonous plant lady in his own web of fear, loathing and manipulation. He also knew very staunchly that if she suspected what he was doing to her supposed "babies" there would be a reckoning between the two. True to his moniker, true to his ability and forte a man of his nature did not fear such a thing, however the thought of losing a project he'd put such hard work, sweat and toil, the thought of such a thing incensed him more than he could say. And yet he knew he was playing his cards right when she so acquiesced to his desires.

And when he slipped on that mask of his, his features obscured from her and the rest of the world alike he sneered, contorting his visage like a Halloween mask, a jack-o-lantern. The headless horseman. He even offered her a slender arm, more elbow than muscle, in an ever gentlemanly way, "Come my dear. Lets take the child out for a walk in the park." his voice still congenial and yet ever so dark, as if he knew a perverse, macabre secret and was a child in that way, knowing something a parent doesn't, shouldn't, couldn't.

With that the moving of the creature into a more ambulant device commenced, hoisting it's roots to where it needed to go the growth of the creature happened so quickly that it was becoming monstrous ever so quick, a behemoth of flora. It's jaws snapping, hissing, foam and fear gas spewing from it's gaping maw, and when it was brought forth it's vines were like a bird's talons or a squid tentacles lashing around anything and everything in perceived as dangerous or a danger to itself. Finally it even managed to latch onto one of the henchmen, gobbling him up as the man kicked and screams, the Scarecrow's smirk under his mask was as devilish and full of glee as the chortle he let out. Not because he was particularly fond of the henchmen, or even because the commotion hid his great prize for which not even the queen of green had an inklling of. But because it inspired such fear, as with many fathers he fell for the "baby" when seeing it, in this very perverse, macabre mind he saw the fear it inspired, that it personified, an incarnation inducing fear like he did, he actually felt a welling of pride as he watched it work.

And when they headed into gotham gardens this hardly changed as the creature belched out the fear mist, spewing it out into the open air and finally the Crow spoke fondly of the "child". "A chip off the old block." the gardens, the park was normally a serene place, littered, various vagabond rover wandering bums on the park benches and under the bridges, some even sleeping in trees. As with most places in industrialized, urban metropolis, a nightmare of steel and concrete, brick and mortar. People began to scream just when they saw the monster, creepy and unsettling, like Nosferatu, the Frankenstein Monster, everything that humanity feared, belching and breathing nightmares. The mayhem that occurred was simply beautiful, he seemed elated, perhaps the closest to happy a man such as Jonathan Crane could ever hope to be.

[POISON IVY]

Poison Ivy should have known better, but there was some strange part of her that wanted to trust someone and that it had something to do with being cared for. As the Scarecrow steadily set her up to get what he wanted while willingly betraying her to do so, Pamela was just happy to see that her idea was becoming a possibility. The only reason why Jonathan Crane was not junked up with her own plant hormonal voodoo was because she needed him to make this work for her.

Perhaps it was because they had worked so well together over those months, or she was just a little bit of a glutton for punishment, but whatever the case maybe, she ultimately just wanted to make sure she got what she wanted. Again with the hideous mask, but it was who he believed to be and how could she very well deny him his face? Slender arm was placed upon his offered one, and she smiled as he escorted her out to the park with their child.

It was evening and there would not be that many people lying about, but Poison Ivy was rather surprised that the Scarecrow would take this little experiment at a time when Batman or some other caped crusader would decide to patrol. Perhaps it was an ego though and she gave a mental shrug. If there was trouble, the masked ‘hero’ would soon regret interfering that is something Pamela was sure of.

She was beautiful to behold, terrifying and magnificent as she was the first of her kind. Laughter rang silvery and true as her man-eating plant devoured one of Crow's henchmen and she smiled sweetly as if their child had taken her first step. As much as she adored her child, the one that Jonathan helped create, the flame-haired woman had no idea that he had also become seduced by the horror that their creation incited. Once in Gotham Gardens and the frightening creation had been settled in with purpose, Poison Ivy giggled as the Scare Crow mentioned her being the chip off the old block.

Like a proud mother admiring her child, Poison Ivy drew closer to the genius that had made it possible and drew him into an embrace. Her arms over his shoulders and about his neck she gently hugged him. The plants giving her lift to give her the height needed for such a move that was viable for one sitting. "She is everything I have imagined and more." Pamela murmured and a soft kiss placed on Jonathan's cheek then settled in front of him to meet his gaze.

There was a moment that she would have said more, another thank you, but remembered that payment was not yet completed and it hung over her with a bit of dread. "When can I take her home?"

[Scarecrow]

Jonathan Crane had kept an eye on the cargo when it was so loaded into a more mobile pot. His eye was analytical and critical and yet, yet he seemed all the more proud and giddy when he watched the creature unleash the terror it had so aptly. His eyes aura might have been that of proud father or scientist who's experiment had reached it's natural and suspected- successful- conclusion.

Perhaps they were hardly worlds apart in his mind, not so mutually exclusive, regardless, he'd felt the hands on her suddenly, her touch on his arm and especially the arms around him as they were, just her touch inflamed him as if he were ablaze of a fire internal and imperishable. One he tried well to quell until she enacted the coup de grace with pillowy pouty lips, soft even through the coarse of his mask. It was as if a dagger sliced through him, cutting to ribbons the agony that was the Scarecrow, empowering and perhaps even perturbing Jonathan Crane. It had been so long, Scarecrow had guarded and hardened his heart, like the wicker, straw, cold as the fall of leaves.

It wasn't entirely novel, a feeling he'd felt near a lifetime ago, but it was transformative, transcendental, an enlightening and moving experience, just this small gesture of human kindness -though spurred by wicked intent- it was enough to shake a lifetime of practiced, reinforced wickedness, cold, stoicism and outright fear mongering craziness. It was well enough that he touched his cheek both above his mask and then pulled it up for but a moment to press to where she had so kissed. It was almost as if he didn't believe it had just happened.

As if it were unbelieveable for a woman to show him any attention, let alone willing affection. And when he pulled his hood back down and let out an exasperated sigh he knew his heart, his will were both waning toward doing what he knew he was going to do, what had to be done. If she had been more able, more willing to allow such small nicities, forms of affection and care to the man she could well have the Scarecrow ever around her finger, probably entranced him as only fear had been able to, as it was he pulled down the mask and again Crane and Crow steeled themselves as he spoke, his voice a horror, perverse and cobbled "Not until I've used her to my own ends." his voice betrayed his intent, wicked and twisted as the man himself, as the glare, as the face beneath the mask, distorted.

And finally he saw what he knew he'd see, the figures terrified and trembling, as if tremors shot through them or they were overtaken by extreme heat or cold, felled by lightning, overtaken by blood thirsty hounds, covered in spiders, scorpions, falling from the greatest height, beaten ruthlessly, whatever their greatest fear might well be. And to his glory he even saw one of the many caped cowards as they descended to "save the day" only to be ground down and laid low with the most pure and intrinsic, guttural and primal of fears they'd ever felt.

His parlay with ivy was cut short as he'd taken in the sights, cackling and laughing menacingly. To see the creature he'd so created belch out more fear gas in an all enveloping cloud of creeping terror than a dozen of his fear toxin bombs could hope to, it made him realize how fruitful this pairing had actually been.

[POISON IVY]

As the evening passed with experiment surpassing anything that had Poison Ivy imagined, the thought that she could do no wrong also entangled within her mind. Her child was already beautiful if not unique and now she is formidable as well. Crane was actually endearing when he managed to show some interest and care. It was one of the reasons why she could not help herself by teasing him so readily. There was pride in his eyes upon his creation that stemmed from her idea.

Pamela did not realize how her attentions were being processed by Jonathan and continued to heap ‘positive’ reinforcement onto him. Already she was off to attend to their creation giving her more attention than to the creator’s. Reassurances and praises were exclaimed and cooed almost uncharacteristically for the flame haired villainess. In doing so, she completely missed how much her affections had affected the Scarecrow.

While she was caressing her child, Poison Ivy turned about to face Scarecrow as he mentioned using her to his own ends. It was obvious that she was perplexed by his comment and needed to understand what he was talking about. “What do you mean your own ends? This was not a part of our agreement, Jonathan.”

His maniacal laughter and change in stance managed to rankle her nerves and suspicions. Just as mercurial as the man before her, Poison Ivy wound herself up to ensure that she was not caught completely off guard if he was silly enough to attack her. She knew who he was and if he was foolish enough to cause her harm, she would put him down like a rabid animal.

[Scarecrow]

When the Goddess of Green so withdrew from him it was as if a spell had been lifted, the mists of Avalon had abated and the gates of Babylon closed with a resounding clank within the mercurial mind of the Master of Fear. His voice had a maniacal sputter to it, a guttural purr like a pouncing panther or a his like a spooked serpent "What I mean, good doctor is as any man of science I've reconfigured the data and found our arrangement wanting. So.." his voice eventually lulled almost to a point of playful congeniality, making it all the more off putting with the horrid mask and attire, the trappings he so trapped himself in.

And as he approached he moved like a phantasm in the night, a shadow on the wall of low lit lamps that punctuated the darkness and greenery of Gotham Gardens. When he spoke again his voice again took that tone which was only slightly more disconcerting than his manner, movements and way "So the Scarecrow will take what was wrought. You see I've reworked the data we've colluded together and what I've made makes your little nightmare seem like a fever dream... Forget Gotham! I'll wring these two creatures of every drop of fear toxin until they blanket the entire east coast in a cloud of fear toxin!" and like a nightmare his own creature shot up near the one he and Ivy had created, it was bigger, and by the looks of it even more potent and nasty.

His voice had taken to the cater wailing as if he were testifying on the mountain of the power of the God of Fear again, singing hideous, heinous hosannas and offering great parables and homilies to terror. And yet as he approached the creature and laid sharp gloved hand down on it's surface he seemed to regain some measure of his composure, raking his fingers down it ever so slightly as the new child ate a few hapless bystanders seemingly for some measure of sustenance.

The thick cloud of fear gas it excreted nearly made the area inhabitable and a testament to potency of the brew he'd imbued in the creature caused even his men, inoculated to his most powerful of strains of fear toxin to double over and buckle in sheer, morbid terror for their lives. Seeing them wretch, seeing them convulse as if they were on fire, bellies bursting with snakes or covered in scorpions, until their convulsions were so powerful they broke their own backs or stroked out, hearts exploding in their chests like wet balloons caked in their own blood.

At first the Scarecrow seemed to have some measure of calmed objectivity as he watched the mayhem ensuing, this facade was quickly dropped when the scene became so rancorous that he couldn't help but let out trills of laughter covering his mouth ever so slightly in a few moments or simply watching in awe as the faces of death piled so. He added in as he examined the two creations of his, his tools, to do With as he pleased in a stern off hand remark "Of course, with a blanket of fear gas ensconcing such a large area your photosynthetic friends may have a rough go of it. How unfortunate." his tone returned to cold and clinical, shrugging his stout, stunted shoulders with out a true care and not even looking to the supposed goddess of green after all was said and done.