|
Post by POISON IVY on Nov 9, 2012 20:34:07 GMT -5
Pamela could not believe what she was hearing. To have Jonathan Crane betray her after all that they had done and been through together? She should have fried his brain the first opportunity that she had gotten that chance. Stupid. She had thought that they had made some sort of connection. Foolish to have fallen so blindly into the moment just to be rejected and cut out of it entirely, she would not cry, it was the reason she had told herself that she would never be the fool. To be used and cast aside so readily. It never stopped hurting. Human or not, the betrayal always managed to sting.
His mask, his stance, that voice of his, all of it reeked of the fear that she should have been effected by. She stood her ground as he drew closer. Her body tensed as each spiteful and malicious detail was shared with her and she wrapped her arms about her body wondering how she could have wasted her time being with him for those months to make this work. How could she had touched him, and kissed him and let him kiss her back.
A sneer marred her painted red lips as she stared the Scarecrow down until the second creation was revealed that made her stare at him as if it was the child that she had just birthed and stolen away from her. She drew closer to the nightmare and he was quickly losing himself in all of the terror that he had begun. There was not a care in the world of the bystanders that were silly enough to get in their way. She could not leave without her children.
As others choked on the fear gas that the second creature was coughing up, Poison Ivy cared for nothing in this world except for her children. It was perhaps a nonsensical fear of hers. Both of her children were with their maker. He had created their ability to cough out thick fogs of fear toxin that would cause that intent on destroying the world’s vegetation to run around and run as if their life depended on it, but she was the one that would be able to allow them to continue to live.
“Jonathan, let us be reasonable about this. You have gone above and beyond with my request. I will overlook that you have decided to take it upon yourself to make a second in secrecy, but they will not survive without me.” It was their lives she begged for now as the Scarecrow attempted to rip them away from what could potentially be a ‘healthy’ home. “Please.” She was not above begging, but she could not entirely retaliate without hurting her children. Worse if he had decided to threaten her by setting the lesser one on fire. She would fight and perhaps she would not survive, but Poison Ivy promised to destroy the skinny wretch if it is the last thing she will do.
If the worse was about to happen, she was not opposed to a tactical retreat and make it a point to bring the Scarecrow down in other ways then when he was down and out, to take her children back. There was always a way especially if she had the damnable will for it.
|
|
|
Post by Scarecrow on Nov 12, 2012 2:43:08 GMT -5
Jonathan looked on with what was clearly giddy delight at the happenings that came upon the revelation of his new tool. Oh how the tables had turned, she had seduced him, abused him, used him and planned to discard him for a sap, just like sherry squires those years ago. Being led to the basement with a clenched hand in hand, her words sweet and her giggles effervescent. Her lips were juicy, plush and pillow like, her curves had arisen in him primal, base desires that a man of that age, a bubbling cauldron of hormones might well expect.
And yet, when he looked upon her the feeling he got was not ENTIRELY dissimilar, but certainly a differing brand of pleasure, as if he had some great modus or modicum of control over her being. Seeing her in such a state, seeing her so...fearful.
He loved that in a woman.
The gloves he wore had sharpened tendrils and he grasped her wrist somewhat harshly then, his strength seemed inordinate, as if a man of his frame could never hope to be so strong and perhaps such vigor was vested in the elation he seemed to see while seeing such emotion of terror plastered on her pretty face. It was the ultimate show of how he'd managed to double cross her even further, innoculating himself to her most potent poisons, he must've used his time with her to get a DNA sample and create quite the vaccine for when he did his free hand pulled up his mask to the midst of his nose and he drew his tongue licking her from chin, up supple cheek to near her temple before he let out an adulated "I can taste your fear...It's delicious...my little flower."
When he stopped his lips were at her ear, his breath was wafting hot, quickened as a man might be in the midst or throes of passion, ever so slightly but not to the point if he were in ecstasy. The whisper that followed was low and secretive, as if lovers who carried each other's own deathly secrets to the grave "I know what you fear doctor. I know it and I feel it, like a plant without water, choking and browning from dehydration, or a weed underfoot, trampled by an uncaring boot. I know you see a world bereft of greenery, absent the only life a woman so alone and so desperate could ever hope to create."
He stopped the light hiss of his voice as he remunerated these words into her ears, only to kiss her neck in small pecks, nibbling on it ever so slightly too as he would. Whether this was because he was getting some kind of morbid sexual thrill out of this or it was simply a tactic to make her more disheveled only The Scarecrow could say. But when he continued his words were frightening still "I even know..how you lost Pamela Isley in the woods. Poor, mousy Pamela, inundated by the Poison Ivy, buried alive by vegetation deep down inside you." and as he spoke his free hand seemed to rove, roaming over the most accentuated part of her hip and pulling her to him, tracing his long claws tantalizingly over her midrif as if he knew where Pamela Isley resided within Poison Ivy.
When the Scarecrow continued it was as if he were putting the kibosh on whatever death throes he put Ivy in, the ending enchantments of whatever spell the sorcerer who's archaic, arcane power was fear. "And therein lies the secret, doesn't it Ivy? that somewhere within sultry, sensual, erotic and irresistible Poison Ivy frumpy Pamela Isley reckons. Just below the surface. Waiting. Penitent. That mess of a woman who no man would give a second look that wasn't one of derision or disgust. The woman who mattered so little no one even knew or cared when she ceased to exist. So much so you thought you could create Poison Ivy and everyone would be none the wiser. The fear..the fear of waking to a barren world to be a barren, paltry Pamela Isley is so palatable. Your fear tastes of the sweetest strawberries." he even went so far as to cap this statement with an exclamation point as he took a bite out of her ear lobe.
|
|
|
Post by POISON IVY on Nov 13, 2012 17:15:07 GMT -5
Pamela took a step back and braced herself as the man changed before her, his madness seeping out of his pores. Her anger radiated off of her as hot as the sun as she took another step back. There was not fear yet, uncertainty and frustration at being betrayed after her attempt to ‘work’ with the Scarecrow.
Before she could get out of his range, his hand grasped her wrist, the sharpened tendrils biting into her skin preventing any sort of retreat unless she wanted the tendrils to cut deep. Her eyes narrowed in anger as she called forth with her toxic nature as a defense not realizing that he had been playing scientist against her defenses. Her eyes widened in surprise as he drew closer, enough to lick her as if he was an overgrown dog and she shuddered from the effects of it.
She jerked back and could not get out of his grasp and did not have her plants to choke the very life out of the impertinent Scarecrow. There was fear, anger and strangely enough another emotion that she could not bear to admit aloud. She was enjoying this entirely too much. His words sent shudders through her akin to pleasure, and fear, but it was difficult which one she was scared of more.
“Let me go, Crow.” She growled as she tried to fortify herself the toxin having no effect but his presence and words drove her to the brink as he left her defenseless. His toxins choking her children except for the two that were made to withstand the fear toxin, and whatever he had inoculated himself with to be able to touch her and taste her without dying immediately.
She still had the ability to manipulate his flora of his own body so it could attack him, but she could not bring herself to do it. Her body began to tingle and warm as he kissed her neck and she tried to break from him. Her hands coming up to her ears to keep out his voice and the ugly words of her past, “Stop, STOP IT.” She screamed out until her body shuddered again as his hand began to roam about her body. “Jonathan…Pamela no longer exists.” She said in a choked whisper.
“I am who I am. Nothing to hide, nothing to show. You do not know anything and will never understand.” She said a bit nonsensically, sadly as she felt lost, and cold as if the sun had denied her access to its warm rays. The last of his words were that of an abusive lover that she could not escape, but while he dealt in fear, drank and thrived from it, Poison Ivy was not completely disarmed.
She felt his hot mouth upon her ear and it sent a jolt down her spine that scared her most of all. The thought of intimacy and trust, all that she never had and that vile word that curdled her insides, Pamela, Poison Ivy, would not sit idly by and she placed her arms about the man that was meant to dominate and scare her, instill her with fear, and she did the one thing that he may not expect her to do, face her fear. With that said she drew him in, her soft lush body flush against his and kissed him until she became breathless. Sadness brimmed over and longing, but eventually, she pulled away from him and said softly, “You win, Crow. I never want to see you again.” Then without a backwards glance to the children she was leaving behind, or the man that helped them into existence, Poison Ivy hoped to scrub the unpleasant memories away and to banish any thoughts of the tears that wished to form. Never again. You will never cry because of a man ever again. It was your promise.
Her head held high, her back ramrod straight; it was time to go home.
|
|
|
Post by Scarecrow on Nov 14, 2012 1:53:03 GMT -5
Of all the things Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow had so expected, all the things he’d girded himself for and steeled himself against, preparations that had taken near as long as it had taken to create the monstrosities he’d created. What he in the end didn’t expect was that which happened, Poison Ivy had egressed from his grasp and told him off more akin to a spouse who’s feelings were hurt, or a date that had gone sour- both experiences Jonathan knew of in an academic way- rather than a villainess, a vamp, a femme fatale or a woman scorned. His look beyond the burlap threadbare mask seemed beyond quizzical, and perhaps perturbed.
The confused, dejected and befuddled “Ivy..I…” purely perplexed as he was, standing alone, his shoulders slumping and his gaze deepening. What had just happened? He had to ask himself that a hundred times while she stalked off, her tone, her body language, everything he knew of the inner workings of the human mind and the driving forces, the motivations of it all left him questioning. When he looked back on his time with every rogue he ever colluded with he couldn’t remember a single, solitary time when it had ended favorably, either because the batman had taken them down or –perhaps more often than not- the two had turned on each other, their own psychoses or motivations driving them to be distrustful, superstitious in some cases and overly ambitious in almost all. It was a failing they all had. And yet..yet he wasn’t sure what he felt when she walked away, dejected? Hurt? Foolish? Unsure? Uncoth? All of the above.
Inadvertently he’d touched his cheek where she had so kissed in the sealing of their partnership and he thought back on it all, his plants puking out the noxious gases behind him and he cackled. He found himself knowing in an intellectual sense that she had used him towards her own ends, and he the same, and yet that kindness and desire she’d given him was far more than he was used to, far more than he could ever ask.
And yet, as he attempted to enact his plan he realized his charges were already beginning to wilt, they were tied to their mother and would bloom with the power he’d vested within them only through their “mother’s” constant care and vigilance. He’d sighed after seeing this, running a few tests with the equipment he had on hand that only reinforced that which he knew to be the case. There was a moment when he threw something of a fit, flailing his arms about and kicking his legs before his toe collided with a large rock causing a shock of pain that shot through his system. Useless. It was all useless to him.
It would be a good week or so later when Ivy would return to her garden and find the doors pried open, a trail of candy corn lead to a cleared area that she had clearly intended for the behemoth fear plants, and to her surprise she would see the two plants languishing in that area, both surrounded by varying candies, a scarecrow (not Jonathan himself but a fair facsimile in identical clothes) held a card that had “Happy Halloween” scrolled across in decorative lettering, orange as a pumpkin, The inside read:To my Gorgeous Ghoul,
I Tricked.
Enjoy your treat.
Happy Halloween,
Scarecrow
|
|
|
Post by POISON IVY on Nov 17, 2012 0:09:45 GMT -5
It was probably for the best and she felt her heart breaking having to leave her children behind, but she would rather see them kept and taken care of instead of used to threaten her with. She told herself that it was for the best, but the short time that the two had spent together many hours deliberating and just 'making it work' flowered into the most amazing creation which he just managed to sully in a matter of moments. It definitely was unlike Poison Ivy to back down or was it? Her children were in the middle of it, and she would do what she could to protect them.
All of those thought made her try not to think of the man that helped her conceive such beautiful creatures and to try not to think fondly of him after the crap he pulled. Despite it all, she could not retaliate and so instead of escalating the madness to a whole new level, she defused it by kissing him good-bye and leaving. Of course, she had no idea in what state that would have left the masked villain.
Batman had once said that she was incapable of loving anyone, but she had begged to differ. She loved those that deserved it, and her children were always first and foremost on her mind. Acting as a mother for once, she felt that heart that she did not have starting to break as she quickly made her way to her green house to recuperate feeling tired and depressed from her latest bout with the Scarecrow.
Poison Ivy had been quite abrupt and foul tempered since she had left her children and Jonathan Crane behind. She had become even more anti-social if that was actually possible and had hidden herself away to recuperate and regenerate by basking in the sun's rays and having left Gotham for a few days. It was coming back from a temporary retreat not feeling any better, Pamela noticed that someone had broke the lock on the doors of her garden causing her anger to bubble over like an overfilled cauldron.
As she entered her domain, her eyes widened and her head tilted as she noticed a trail of tiny pieces of candy that looked like dislodged teeth leading her further inside. Her heart almost stopped as she saw her children waiting for her, decorated in the vile processed sugar and a scarecrow. Her face had lit up with joy as she embraced and kissed the tops of the children she had thought she had lost. She made sure that they were doing well and cooed like a proud mother as they burped out the fear toxins that the Scarecrow make work in the gigantic Venus Flytrap looking plants.
Happily, she drew closer to the scarecrow that was also left behind and plucked the card out of its hand. The curiosity shone wondering if there was any answers as to what was going on. Carefully, she opened the card to read the contents which made her giggle to herself and feel almost like a young woman being taken out by a crush. Then she gently kissed the man's signature, hoped he was well and with a cheerful look, and a spring in her step, Poison Ivy had decided to get back to work.
|
|