Fearful Poisons // IVY

[Scarecrow]

Players: The Scarecrow and Poison Ivy~
Location(s): The research labs by Gotham Uni.
Plot Summary: Jonathan Crane hears about a new and rare plant that can increase results with a certain compound. Jonathan Can't resist getting his hands on this new discovery, as well as a well known plant lady~

Gotham Uni, home to the City's greatest. Home to some of the world's most famous geniuses. A shelter for backstabbing, illiterate bastards. The idea of returning her made Jonathan Crane's skin crawl. He could remember all those times he was called a mad man by his employers. A psycho by all he taught. Perhaps they were right. Maybe they helped paved the way for his current state. Maybe he should thank them. Thank them in his own personal way.

With a glare that could only be seen through the eye holes of the Scarecrow mask, the lanky man made his way into the closed parking lot of the school. It was the weekend so it would be just him and whoever decided to stay and catch up on homework. Nothing Jonathan Crane couldn't get through.

With a simple lock pick and a sway of the door, Jonathan was in the main corridor of the school. The labs would be a bit of a trek, but all the more for him to understand where to take his leave. Where the best exit would be. It'd be pointless if ridiculous to leave where he came in. Jonathan was never one for explosives. Stealth was most often on his side. Moving quickly, the Scarecrow passed through the empty and dim building with ease. His memory working well with where he needed to turn and how many steps to take.

Finally, after a few moments of remembering, Crane arrived to the lab. Sadly, it had a stupid keypad built into the door. Huffing, Crane moved his hands to the pockets at his side. "Of course they'd go and do something such as this.." He mused with irritation. This was to be a smooth and quick procedure. Get in, take what he needed and go. Quick and easy. Taking a small key-card with encrypted notes, he scanned it into the reader and waited. An odd buzzing followed as the pad tried to read it. Soon enough, it went through and the door clicked open. Pushing it through, Crane stepped inside the lab and took a look around.

"Now... where is it?" He cooed, unaware that this rare item had another set of eyes aimed for it's capture.

[Poison Ivy]

Poison Ivy wasn't entirely sure about the night's agenda. Rarely was she used to putting forth effort for a goal that was not entirely her own. True, the ultimate prize for the evening's endeavor would best suit her, Pamela reasoned to herself, but even so. To think that Mother Nature was being instructed to acquire the rare plant that Gotham University had within it's possession, and hadn't come up with the scheme on her own was something that cause irritation to prickle on her shoulder blades.

Lord Havoc definitely had the lust for grandeur, and the cunning over-confidence that Pamela associated with other men like him. So many had been in her life. So-called super villains or criminal masterminds whose soul desire was dominion of the earth. Pah! Poison Ivy knew that it would not succeed. She had been in so many of these little groups over the years to know what the end result would be. Until that eventuality, Ivy was sure to milk the resources she'd been given for all their worth.

Havoc's plan was genius, even someone as vain and self-absorbed as Pamela had to admit to that. Find this rare plant, and use it in a way that would further all of their goals? Simple, sweet, and to the point. All Ivy had to do was retrieve the lost child from the Gotham University. Laughably simple. That was what the botanist thought while she strutted through the courtyard of the particular complex where the sweet voice of the plant sang to her through the earth.

Ivy intended on going by a route that was a little unorthodox. She strode toward the brownstone walls of the building, and at her approach a thick layer of vines began cascading up the porous surface. Pamela smirked, eyeing which window was the one that opened onto the room where the orphan lay crying. With nimble agility, Ivy scaled the wall, showing a peculiar grace for such a task. Mother Nature reached the third-floor window panes after mere seconds of her ascension. With one caress she melted the alarms rigging it, unleashing a concentrated amount of lethal toxins.

Pamela slipped through the pane. The moment her feet touched the floor of the laboratory, Ivy's eyes locked onto the plant that lay on the other side of the room. Ironically, at the exact halfway point between her and another person present. Mother Nature's blood fizzed slightly, but on the outside her demeanor was cool, and cunning. "Hello, Johnathan," Poison Ivy's hair shimmered in the city's light that drifted through the window at her back. "Fancy meeting you here."

[Scarecrow]

Stepping in with silence and stealth at his side, the tall man kept to the wall and made his way to the plant's holding cell that sat in a clear container atop a desk lined with scanners and computers of the like. He'd need to unhook some of the computer wires from the case for a clean and steady escape. He needed this. Sure, he could have sent a goon or two in here to do the dirty work, but he felt the need to do this himself. He never would hire an idiot goon, no, but he felt they'd do it wrong. There was a tedious way to do this. The men who would work for petty cash never really had much brains to match the brawn.

Breathing silently, Crane stepped forward to the scanners. His eyes locked into the plant placed familiarly like the golden idol in the first Indiana Jones movie.

Though, as his hand made way to the item desired, a voice that belonged to the mistress of nature cooed it's way to his ear. With a flinch and a rising defense, Crane jumped back slightly and raised his hands before his face and torso to block from any possible attacks of the sort. But he was not greeted with any physical confrontation, just a simple greeting.

"Ivy..." He grumbled deeply as his eyes scouted over the woman. "Fancy meeting indeed..." He repeated with slight sarcasm. His eyes dart from the woman to the plant then back to her dark green eyes. "I'm guessing you're not here for pleasantries." He figured, stepping a tiny bit closer to the target item. Most likely this maddening plant woman wanted this rarity for her own silly goals. Crane most certainly needed this more than she. The woman had more than enough rare plants in her garden. Crane could use this for a sharper, more accurate dosage, maybe even form a mirrored- opposite effect of his toxin. One that can reflect fear rather than strengthen it. It would make anyone want to do anything.

Faking a grin from under the mask Crane nodded. "Well, do pardon me, but I am a tad busy." He noted and made way for the plant.

[Poison Ivy]

The Scarecrow was one of the Gotham rogues that Poison Ivy genuinely had little opinion of. Their respective quests against mankind hadn't really caused the two to clash in the past, and there were even a few instances when both had worked for the same goal - generally alongside Batman's other memorable foes. Pamela might have thought that Johnathan's goal of maintaining his self-declared title of "Master of Fear" and making the dark knight succumb to his worst nightmares was deluded, but Ivy was sure that he held the same attitude toward her own calling.

Funnily enough, every inmate at Arkham held true to the belief that all their peers were insane, while they themselves were merely misunderstood. At the least, Poison Ivy had a cool respect for the Scarecrow and his capability as a chemist. She never dabbled in the realm of fear-inspiring mixtures, and instead held to more... alluring avenues to controlling others. Still, Pamela understood that she and Johnathan weren't dreadfully dissimilar. Together they could concoct a potion that would rival all other nefarious minds the world over. Unfortunately, Pamela didn't come to Gotham University for an alliance.

She came for something much more valuable. Much more precious. Something that was worth her appearing personally, and leaving the eaves of New Bludhaven to do so. Incidentally, it was the same something that Johnathan Crane seemed to be after. Small world, Pamela thought acidly to herself. She knew the moment that her eyes perceived the lanky, brown canvas-covered figure of the other doctor why he was there. Indeed, that realization had been what kindled a green light to shine dimly in Pamela's intimidating eyes.

Had Ivy been in a milder mood, the sudden flinch that her appearance caused in Crane would have amused her. Her lips were poised in a delicate smirk, but there was no mirth in them, or in her gaze. The tone that the Scarecrow muttered her name was enough to tell Pamela her presence wasn't welcome. Neither was Johnathan's. With the question of pleasantries, Ivy's smile became more cunning, and her eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. The plants that had sprawled up the outer wall of the building now began slithering like so many probing serpents over the sill in... preparation.

"Not quite," the botanist said, and though her voice was a velvety whisper, it carried through the room with clear purpose. Poison Ivy wondered indifferently how Johnathan would react to the prospect of having his prize taken by her. Surly her being there was no coincidence. Insane as Crane was, he could put two and two together to guess at what brought Poison Ivy to the same place as him that night. Pamela was fairly certain that Johnathan knew his fear toxins didn't affect Mother Nature. They were unpleasant, certainly - like standing downwind from a rotting landfill - but did far less than bring the woman to her knees in distress.

While Pamela kept her mind nimble to any manner of attacks that Crane might venture, she was vaguely amused to see the route that he took. Did he really think that she would just sit back and watch him wrest a defenseless child from her control? Foolish, Poison Ivy clucked scornfully to herself. Without preamble, one of the vines that had wormed its way up the wall and partially over the drop-tile ceiling unfurled like a whip, and smacked the Scarecrow's bony hand away from the imprisoned plant. Pamela's grin widened so much that her teeth were revealed, sparkling in the dim light of the room.

"I'm afraid things won't be that simple, Doctor Crane," Pamela said, so smoothly that her gibe was nearly lost in the flow of her warning words.

[Scarecrow]

Jonathan's breath was minimal and paced. There was a foul tension that sparked between the two rogues. The creaks and eerie sounds of the woman's plants slithering through the room caused Scarecrow to flinch with wary and paranoia. She was after this rarity as well. This was something that he would not allow. There was a chance to increase the dosage of his well known fear toxin, and there was a chance to make a formula to be an exact opposite of the fear toxin. An ability to make one immune to fear. That alone can make the most scared weakling into a man who felt no paranoia- no fear. It would be a danger as well as a strong asset to certain situations.

Crane needed this. He had to do these experiments. But would this greedy little plant witch decide to stop him? Well, he would not take kindly to that if anything at all. Debating in his mind, he knew about Ivy's inability to be weakened by poisons or anything of the sort. His fear toxin would do nothing to her if only make her cough uncomfortably. That would do for nothing. Perhaps if he just took the item and made a run for it?

"Gh-!" The tall man flinched and pulled his hand back to his torso, rubbing it to try and ease the sting that was given by one of Ivy's plants. "Blast it-!" She was already moving in to the prey. He was so close... Eyes wary, the doctor turned and glared to the woman. "Nothing's ever simple these days.." The masked man hissed through his teeth.

Jonathan is just a human. To go against someone with meta abilities such as Ivy, Crane felt well out of his league. But what choice did he have? He was not going to give this up so easily. Granted, if the option of his life were to be in danger, he would probably give up and try again. Rare indeed, but it did not mean impossible. Still... he was so close. To just give it to her would be a crime among itself!

"I was here first. It rightfully belongs to me. First come, first serve."

[Poison Ivy]

Pamela's eyes sparkled in warning, and nearly indifferent amusement when Crane recoiled. Rather than become more cautious in light of Ivy's assault, though, the Scarecrow looked affronted. Almost juvenile, really, what with how his tone suddenly twisted into a whine. Poison Ivy raised one brow in vague intrigue at the phrasing that the other doctor chose. The botanist paused to consider for a moment, tilting her head slightly in feigned debate. "It could be," Pamela said. "It could be very simple."

Suddenly the image of composed, alluring grace that Ivy had maintained thus far flickered, showing a shadow behind it. There was a moment where all interest faded from Mother Nature's appearance and was replaced with cold and merciless apathy. "Leave." Poison Ivy's glance flicked momentarily towards the door that Johnathan had made use of to enter the room. Pamela's remark sounded more like a cruel command than a suggestion. Nevertheless, after that abrupt transition, Ivy's alluring air returned seamlessly, hiding the glimpse of terror that she'd allowed Crane to glean.

With the disinterested, harsh appearance having returned, Pamela watched dully while the Scarecrow appeared to struggle with what action to take. Of course, he wasn't about to surrender and flee - what kind of Rogue would he be, if that were the case. No, with Crane's involvement this evening had become frustratingly more complicated. Typical, really. Pamela could never have a simple evening where all of her plans went off perfectly, and without interference. Whether by one of the accursed vigilantes that plagued Gotham, or a fellow villain.

No. Johnathan had a point. Things could never be simple. That stand-off was as good an example as any. Pamela sure as hell wasn't backing down, and she supposed that Crane wouldn't have the good sense to do so, either. Ivy shrugged internally. So be it, she thought. The claim that Scarecrow placed on the plant was comical, even Pamela had to admit. Indeed, it actually brought a genuine smirk to her sizzling lips, and an audible snicker. "Surly you don't think that that will dissuade me, Johnathan."

A flicker of green flame in Pamela's eyes seared, and was gone again. "I'm not about to let you murder this defenseless infant," Poison Ivy said softly. The ambient noise of Gotham seeped into the room from the open window at Pamela's back. The dull buzz of machines and electronics in the lab competed for supremacy over the urban din from outside. In Ivy's mind, compromise was not an option. Whatever Crane might suggest to calm the situation would be a sacrifice on Pamela's part. Why did she need to compromise? Sacrifice? When she could simply take the babe, slumbering in its glass containment mere feet away?

Crane was... formidable, true, but he was nothing compared with Mother Nature. A simple, petty chemist in the face of a goddess, really. "What will it be, Doctor Crane?" Pamela was very close to the limit of her patience. Banter was necessary sometimes, and even enjoyable at others, but she had come with a purpose, and she did not intend to linger. The sooner Poison Ivy could return to the sanctity of New Bludhaven, the better...

[Scarecrow]

This was getting ridiculous. He was here first. This plant rightfully belonged to Jonathan Crane. Stupidly, when it came to that of criminals, right was never an option if any at all. It seems a fight of wits were to become of this little issue. Crane was no sharp fighter but he could try. And knowing how this woman was with toxins, his fear gas would do little to nothing on her. All but make her cough several times at most.

Blast.

Perhaps if he acted fast he could take the plant and run.

Ivy's order for him to leave was met with a sharp scoff. "A bit rude to just tell me to go and leave." Jonathan mused. "Though, I know manners were never your forte." His lips hissed as the fight of a grin made him twitch from under the mask. "I should be telling you the same."

Of course his tactic of claiming first to the prize would solve nothing. She was too keen on saving her precious plants. Just because it is stated as rare did not mean it is extinct. But here she is, in the flesh, ready to adopt another child to her forest of leaflings. A sigh left Crane as he glared down to the woman. The creaks and shifts of the plans morphing around him were beginning to strike great unease. He had to get out of here..now.

"Tch! Infant?" Scoffed Jonathan in question. "Pamela, your mind is most certainly clouded." He mused with a formal bow of his head. "Murder is far from what I plan to do, miss Ivy. Oh no, I plan to do much more with this rare breed." His voice curled into a pleasing hiss. Though, he would stop with his words now to avoid telling another criminal his own plans. That is on the list of the most idiotic things to do in this business. This world was fully of backstabbers and Jonathan would have none of that.

A final warning was issued by the mad woman. Sighing a solemn sigh, Jonathan took a step back. "I say... first come, first serve." And with a quick flick of his wrist, a gust of toxin left his hand, pushing a clouded dust through to Ivy. The green fog of sorts would prove enough of a distraction for Jonathan to make his move. Turning around from the woman, his hands quickly snatched up the small plant and made a quick run for the door. His shoes clanking down on the hard tile as he felt the mad desire to run. He was not safe, and this was probably a very stupid idea, but he had to have it. It would be unlike him to just hand over the desired prize.

This was to be his and he'd make sure of it!

[Poison Ivy]

The light that glazed Crane's eye when he alluded to his intentions for the rare blossom was what dried up most of Poison Ivy's remaining reservoirs of patience. That hungry glimmer over something that Pamela knew, in Scarecrow's mind, was a simple object. A weed that proved the means to some desired end in his crooked psyche. Ivy's look of amusement was permanently extinguished in that moment, but she still maintained a rigid grasp on the plants that sprawled over the floor, wall, and ceiling to her back. She was still going to give Johnathan a chance to repent.

Perhaps, miraculously, the chemist's logical mind would win out over his fear-fueled persona. He couldn't win. Not in this match-up. Not with what was at stake in this situation. How could anyone hope to come out on top against Mother Nature herself when one of her children were in danger? Surly Crane could see how futile this petty attempt was? That was just it, though. Poison Ivy might have come there with a goal, but her thought process was still nimble, cold and as driven by purpose as ever. She knew that Scarecrow wasn't going to leave without a fight. The gleam in his eye told her so.

Poison Ivy's error was not anticipating a surprise attack. She expected Johnathan's eventual bid for a preemptive strike to be painfully obvious. To put it plainly: Pamela underestimated him, just as he overestimated himself. The miniature cloud of airborne toxins dispelled from Crane's sleeve, and enveloped Poison Ivy's face and upper torso. Hallucinations didn't ensue, and Pamela's heartbeat didn't even accelerate. Even with the standard affects rendered void, though, the attack served it's purpose. A distraction. Pamela gave one light cough, and took two powerful steps forward, breaking through the vile mist.

Mother Nature looked furious. Her emerald irises shone like beacons, and fists were clenched at her slender sides. Scarecrow had scooped up the child that Pamela was there to save, and was already ducking into the spacious corridors beyond the laboratory. Crane's long, bony legs made him surprisingly swift when the need was great enough. Ivy's lip curled up and away to show teeth grit in anger. Not only at Johnathan's brazen act, but at her having fallen for it. "Wrong choice."

The goal had been to move in and out of Gotham City without leaving a trace. Sneaking in, getting her prize, and sneaking out again without anyone being the wiser. Therefor, summoning gargantuan roots to break the brownstone complex in two would have been counterproductive, Ivy thought. So she couldn't exercise greater power? Poison Ivy had made due with far less over the years. In this case, the age of the building served her purpose splendidly. Various wall-clinging plants and ivies covered most of the exterior of the complex.

Pamela called out to her sons and daughters that coated the structure, and with only a slight exertion of her will over them, they slithered into place, effectively creating living webs over every door and window that could have been used by Crane to make his exit. Poison Ivy, meanwhile, began walking with ominous, slow grace in the Scarecrow's wake. Moving out into the hallway with a train of vines flowing over the tiles in her wake. "You can't escape me, Crane." Pamela's voice echoed in several layers through the cavernous halls. "You can't outrun Mother Nature."