A Scarebeast's Flower [Poison Ivy]

One cannot bring a Rafflesia Arnoldii to Gotham without getting Poison Ivy's attention. Especially not a living one - it is, after all, an incredibly endangered plant proven impossible to cultivate. That is, of course, because Poison Ivy hasn't had the opportunity to do it yet. And she had every intention of using this little opportunity to do so. And acquiring the plant before it made it's way to the botanical gardens would be easier than waiting for it to arrive there.

However, when she'd arrived at the place it was being housed before it would be transported to the botanical gardens, she didn't even have to go in to know that someone had beaten her to it. She can sense the remaining pieces of Tetrastigma left behind when the bulk of it had been ripped away. Who would do such a thing?! But she doesn't linger for long, as it only takes her a few moments to sense that the thief hasn't gotten far enough away to be outside of her ability to sense the stolen plant.

It's easy to pick up on, as it was suffering even when it was in the specially designed enclosed environment - now that someone's yanked it out and is carrying it through Gotham's alleyways, it's getting rapidly worse. A neon sign would be harder for her to track. Knowing that she must catch up, she remains in her car and drives it in the direction that she knows it is. This area is quite familiar to her, actually, as it's not that far from her hideout, so it doesn't take her long to catch up. In fact, she can sense the direction that it's heading so she gets ahead of whoever it is. And she can also sense every last bit of damage that's being done to it by the simple fact that it's now in entirely the wrong climate - this does not put her in a good mood.

In fact, as she quickly checks to make sure that her wrist crossbow is securely fastened, the vines wrapped around her are secure, and her make-up is perfect, she's absolutely fuming on the inside. Clearly anyone who would want to steal such a plant in the first place would know what it's worth, but apparently they're now proving that it's possible to know that without giving a damn for the plant's well-being. So her mission is to kill the idiot and then take the poor baby home where she can take care of it properly.

She notes as she gets out of the car that she's near where she first met the Scarecrow. Could it possibly be him? Perhaps - he is a terrible enough person to do that sort of thing to a plant. That doesn't matter though - friendly relations with him ended the day he injected that vine at the asylum with his stupid toxin, and tolerant relations ended when he got arrested and made it so very convenient for her to break all ties with him completely. Gotham would be better off without him anyway.

Leaving her car behind, she heads into the alleyways, walking quickly as she chooses a path that intersects with the moving plant, but it it's only a few moments before she senses that she's close. Not being able to tell for sure who she'll run into, she carefully slips one of her crossbow bolts into place - whether it's the Scarecrow carrying the plant or not, she means serious business this time. But she doesn't bother with stealth - partly because she's terrible at it, but also because she's hardly afraid of who she might run into. The only person she'd hesitate to meet at the moment wouldn't steal a plant.

That's when she senses something that causes her to redouble her pace - whoever it is has apparently stopped and is now causing even more damage! Cold fury boils within her as she finally rounds one last corner and spots the figure with the plant. "You!" she practically screeches at the unfamiliar-looking man. She never did bother to look up who the Scarecrow really was - it just wasn't important. "Stop or I'll shoot!" she commands as she aims her bolt right at his chest. Of course, her words are deceptive as she's planning on shooting him even if he does stop - she only said that to encourage him to do so.

It isn't the fact that he knows her name that tips Poison Ivy off to the fact that she's met this man before. She's skyrocketed into the public's awareness, after all, and she's in full costume. Not that it's difficult to recognize her out of costume since there's no proper mask involved, but if she was trying to hide who she was she's quite capable with disguises. No, it's that he appears to already be familiar enough with her to know that she doesn't want to risk harming the plant in his hands. It's not a hard thing to guess, but that combined with his attitude seems awfully familiar. And it's the voice and the attitude - he may have used that distorter when he talked to her more often than not, but not every time, and that extreme disregard for her threats is also very familiar. Her face lights up with recognition before its angry scowls returns, doubled. "Scarecrow!" she says, spitting out the word like it has a bad taste.

She pauses for a moment, just to think, though she can hardly stand to delay. He may be unaware of the damage being done to the plant, but she's so completely aware that it might as well be her that's suffocating, drying out, and freezing all at once. But she has to be careful about this - she knows just how uncaring the man is. "Give me the plant, unharmed, and I'll leave you alone," she finally says, very reluctantly. Yes, she'd very much like to harm him, but she does have her priorities. Her arms relax just slightly, a small token that she really is willing to forego giving him what he deserves if he complies, even though that would only delay her from firing for half an instant if she changes her mind.

Which is highly likely, since she suspects that he won't go for that deal. But it's the only one she can think of that she'd be willing to accept - nothing that would leave it in his hands would be acceptable to her, and she doubts that she has anything he'd want from her beyond them going their separate ways.

Walk away from a extraordinarily rare plant in so desperate need of her? Of course not! Poison Ivy would rather lose a limb! (That she could probably figure out how to regrow a limb if she really had to is beside the point...) But she doesn't say that in so many words - instead she answers that question by the way her arms straighten again, emphasizing the point that she really will shoot him if she doesn't get the plant.

Yet when he starts to slowly move as if to put the plant down, she forces herself to be patient - has he finally seen reason? She's not about to trust that, but she'll wait and see what he's doing if only because it's possible that he's giving her what she wants and as long as he's not causing further damage to the flower she doesn't fear whatever else he may be up to. And it isn't until he falls to his knees that she becomes aware that anything odd is happening. She may be arrogant enough to assume that the man would give up, but not to the degree of kneeling before her - that's just a bit much.

Her eyes go wide in surprise when she see the sudden shifting of his features as they start to reshape themselves. What is going on?! She finds her heart nearly gripped with terror but then something else intervenes on her mind, distracting her from feeling that ridiculous emotion. There's this growing feeling within her mind that there's a rather large plant occupying the same space as the shifting Scarecrow, soon becoming clear enough that she's sure she can't be mistaken by it - and the oddity of that is enough to cause her to be frozen in her tracks. How could this be?

But just as she becomes horribly confused by what she's sensing, the changing creature supplies the answer by sprouting what is clearly straw. That's when it clicks - this creature is a plant hybrid! At least to some degree, anyway. But that only makes sense - plant DNA is far more forgiving than animal DNA, willing to let you shape it as you will much more freely before what you want to create proves unable to survive. It makes perfect sense to her that if you're going to tamper with DNA to involve plant material in the process. Especially because the more plant DNA involved in the process, the more powerfully her botanokinesis can effect the result...

If someone were to say that Poison Ivy can control plants, that would be understating the issue. She is the single most powerful botanokinetic that has ever existed. She does not merely give plants orders to follow, nor does she simply compel them. Her control over plants is to such a degree that any plant within her mental reach effectively becomes an extension of herself when she wants something of them - her will is their will. If she'd granted her plants enough intelligence to do so, they would feel what she feels, want what she wants, and do exactly what she'd have them do because they're incapable of having any desire to do otherwise. Of course that effect is weakened considerably when some living thing is only part plant, but the strength of her power is so great that the part that is plant would have to be rather small or for something to be able to resist obeying her, and the desire to resist her would have to be very great for anything under her power to even wish that it could.

Of course, it takes several moments for the full implications of this to truly sink in, and during that time the beast finishes its transformation and makes its demand. There's a pause as she considers just how much of this creature is plant, and just how much control over it that would translate into. Compared to the vines wrapped around her and the flower by his feet, it's akin to sensing a ghost. But that ghost is far too substantial - surely this beast can't resist her!

STOP, SHUT UP, AND LISTEN! They aren't words that he'd hear, but the willpower of someone else overriding his own. She glares up at him. "What do you think you are doing?! How dare you selfishly, callously, harm such a delicate, precious living thing?! How dare you keep it from me?! How dare you try to manipulate me by threatening it?! How dare you attempt to harm me by changing in this fashion?! Don't you know who I am?! Don't you know that my knowledge and power effectively make me Mother Nature herself?! Did you really think that you could hurt me by becoming a beast?!" she asks not raising her voice, but her tone is demanding and rhetorical since there is no such thing as an answer able to even remotely address even one of those questions. There would be more of them, but the connection that she has with the plant at his feet reminds her that she only has so much time to berate him. So she finishes off by firmly stating, "You should be ashamed of yourself!" And for good measure she repeats that with the aid of her power. BE ASHAMED!

There's a sudden silence when her anger is spent and her attention shifts more toward the flower. Though there's a little finger of doubt in the back of her mind as she steps towards it. KEEP A RESPECTFUL DISTANCE! While she's confident, she still keeps a wary eye on the creature just in case somehow her senses are saying things that are too good to be true. If he's able to resist, that really would scare her, but the reason why she cares so much about plants in the first place is because she can't be betrayed by something so under her control.

When the beast backs away from the flower, Poison Ivy hurries to it. "Oh, you poor baby!" she says when she touches it, quickly shifting the bulk of her attention away from the monster so that she can attend to the plant. She doesn't allow her hold on him to slip as she does so - nothing in the world could do that right now - but it talks very little effort for her to keep that connection even as she turns her energy to the wounded beauty.

The damage done combined with this far from ideal climate is rapidly taking its toll, but there's a few things she can do to help it immediately even without any supplies - the way she would have taken it wouldn't have injured it so she didn't bring anything special. But the stress has caused the plant to speed up its metabolism to try to cope with the many injuries, yet that's only causing it to fade faster. She can use her influence on it to coax it into a more dormant state, however, and that will prolong the time it has left before it dies. Long enough for her to get it back home where she can create the right micro-climate for it to heal properly.

The vines wrapped around her unravel and extend to pick up the thick Tetrastigma vine, while she cradles the large flower in her arms with the same gentleness most people reserve for babies. "That's it, babies, you can rest now. I'll take care of you," she croons softly as both the flower and the vine respond to her. The petals of the flower seem to wilt a bit, but that's merely because it's preserving energy. And the fluid leaking from the plant quickly slows, but though it's badly damaged she senses that it's likely to survive if she can provide the right care.

It's only when she's certain that she's done what she can here that she turns her attention back to the humbled beast. Just as she can sense the internal state of the vine and flower, she can get some sense of him as well. It isn't as clear, but she did notice that while he seems to be very much under her mental power (though not as much as she'd like), he didn't seem to understand her spoken words. And she's far from satisfied by that - it isn't enough to make him feel bad, he must also understand why he should be!

Of course, if that means that she has to tell him by using her powers, that's where it gets tricky. She's used to communicating with her own plants, which are only intelligent enough to understand a few basic orders. If she wanted them to be more intelligent, she'd have to incorporate a lot more animal DNA into the mix and she suspects that such creations would be a lot less pleasing to her. So she's used to only communicating very basic things, not something as complicated as why it's wrong to hurt the flower now held in her arms. And yet, there is an option: she has communicated her feelings to her plants before. It's a pretty useless activity since even the vines she keeps wrapped around herself, two of her most intelligent creations, don't seem to know what to do with it. Yet it makes her feel better in a way to know that at least something 'listened' to her. "Perhaps we should see if we can't teach an old dog a new trick?" she asks the plant in her arms before her eyes shift back to the beast that the Scarecrow became.

Knowing just how terribly heartless the man this beast was, she takes a certain perverse delight in her next few actions. EMPATHIZE WITH ME! She then proceeds to project toward him some of her current thoughts and feelings about this situation. The first being the importance of what she's now so carefully holding in her arms - to say that it's incredibly precious would be to understate the issue. This pair of plants matters far more than any amount of money, most of the human race, and the vast majority of everything that mankind has ever accomplished combined. And it's not simply valuable, but a beautiful living thing, all the more precious because it's so fragile. So much more pleasing to the heart and mind because it's so very alive. And yet the confused beast before her almost killed it through sheer thoughtlessness and carelessness - her anger at him for that is so hot and fierce it could easily consume her.

But that's not the only thing that makes her angry - the other is that he thought to not only defy but actually harm her by assuming his current form. She's a woman full of pride, and though a part of her laughs at the idea that someone as barbaric as the Scarecrow could even consider that he might be able to do something to her, a larger part of her is extremely insulted that he even tried.

In fact the only reason why she doesn't now use this power she has over him to destroy him now is because she finds that she... likes him this way. Almost reluctantly, she also allows that feeling through - the beast is ugly and unrefined, like someone just threw it together with no thought to it's final form so long as it would be dangerous. Even if the point of the creature is to be scary, she knows that she could have done better. But not everyone is such a genius with genetics as she is, and she has to admit that she's vaguely impressed by it. The Scarecrow is still an idiot, but perhaps not as much as she thought.

Now that she's finished 'sharing', she simply watches the beast both with her eyes and her other senses to see how it reacts. Though she isn't sure why, she finds that she's craving a certain a feeling of understanding. Perhaps it's because the plant in him doesn't understand and she's yet to touch a plant that didn't instantly understand her, at least as much as a plant can understand. She wants to be rid of that exception.

Sensing that her feelings are being well-received, Poison Ivy actually finds herself smiling when the beast approaches to apologize as best he can. She can't help the flood of positive emotions; getting actual sympathy and empathy from anyone in any shape or form is a very rare event for her. Her parents never seemed to have the time to pay any attention to her, and when she was young she was too shy to have any friends. As she grew older she was not only shy but an eccentric science geek. She'd thought that she'd found a sympathizer in Dr. Woodrue but... Well, that didn't go very well. Since then she's only had people who at best merely pretend to care about her and plants who aren't capable of really understanding her. But now he's got her rethinking just how objectionable it would be to make her plants more intelligent...

He's also causing her anger to melt, and almost without her consent she finds herself shifting the large flower into one hand so that she can gently stroke his nose with the other, carefully avoiding any spikes. She may have basically forced the emotion out of him, but that doesn't mean that she isn't touched by it. "It's okay," she murmurs quietly, allowing a feeling of forgiveness flow out of her so that he'll understand her words. She has this most precious plant now, it will survive, so nothing has been done that can't be fixed.

Besides, perhaps it's just her taste in hybrid creatures talking, but even though she thinks that he's ugly it's more of a 'so ugly it's cute' sort of ugly to her eye. It's the straw, she thinks - Poaceae may all be very simple, but there's a certain beauty in their simplicity she probably appreciates more than anyone. The Scarecrow probably only added in that detail because it relates to his ridiculous costume, but she likes it. And hers is the only opinion that matters anyway.

She continues stroking his nose for a moment more as she considers what to do with him now. The most important thing is that she needs to get this Arnoldii back to her hideout very soon, and no matter how close it is and how tamed she can keep him she wouldn't want to take this beast with her. Batman would find her hideout in two seconds flat if she did that! Yet she finds herself reluctant to say goodbye quickly - yes, she definitely needs to look into incorporating more animal DNA into at least some of her plants. He's proving that she'd like it.

The beast nuzzled its nose to her breast in a passive, pleading motion. His head remained tilted down and his eyes looked remorseful. Something inside him was making him feel absolutely compelled to make her happy, and to keep her near him at all times. It was an overwhelming feeling of security and genuine content that was immediately strange to him, but he didn’t dislike it.

Something in the beast was forcing him to like it despite his previous history. Dr. Crane’s thoughts and feelings couldn’t be heard at the moment as only the enthralled Scarebeast was here. Though they were one in the same, something about Ivy was forcing his feelings to turn this way. If he could break down the Scarebeast and turn to study and think about it. It may have something to do with the massive amount of straw he put toward the head.

Whatever his true feelings for Poison Ivy are, are null and void for the moment as the Scarebeast becomes receptive to her touch. Her hand had slid up onto his nose and he tilted his head further out so she could stroke it better. Calm murmur sounds left the beasts mouth as she changed directions in her stroke to rub his nose. Pressing into her hand he tilted his head back and forth, remaining careful not to spill any toxins from his teeth on her hand or on the ground around them. The feeling of forgiveness put him at peace and made the beast relax; now just staring at her from his position. He just wanted to make her happy. His back legs came forward some so his body could come to a resting sitting position in front of Ivy, careful not to make her release his nose.

The beast still had a will of his own, but it was greatly overwhelmed by Ivy’s presence. Her ability to influence his feelings was making changes in his behavior. The more feelings she projected into his, the stronger the connection between her and the beast was. He didn’t quite understand how these feelings were coming into him, only that he didn’t have the will to take them back. The Scarebeasts mind was made up when it came to Ivy, and all he wanted was her happiness.

The Scarebeast’s posture changed suddenly, pulling his nose from Ivy’s hand. His head lifted and took a few heavy sniffs into the air. There was a different scent around them, someone was close. The fact that someone else was close to them made a deep growl rattle from within the Scarebeasts chest. The next emotion that came flowing through him was jealousy. No one was going to interfere with Poison Ivy and him. His head flowed in one direction, and then another as if he was keeping track of this intruders presence, hopefully tipping Ivy off about it as well.

Flipping his senses the beast tried to turn to the side. His claws pushed out from underneath him making a loud noise comparable to nails on a chalk board. Rising to his feet he made sure Ivy remained close to him, becoming rather protective of her. The loud spurts of air confused him for a moment before smoke began to pour into the alley. His vision was becoming poorer and poorer in the tight space, but he still had his other senses to rely on. As the new scent caught his nose from behind the Scarebeast used the walls to turn himself around facing the Batman. The Dark Knight spoke from within the smoke his threat to them both…He wanted to take His flower away from him? …No one was going to be taking his flower anywhere…

The Scarebeast sucked in a deep breath, placing his claws outward to either side of the alley way to protect his flower. Leaning his head forward in one threatening motion he let out a wall crumbling, ear deafening roar through the smoke.

His words gave away his presence, then again he was walking down the alley way. He wanted to be spotted. All his cards were in play, and he would either take that plant, or no one would take it.

The scarebeast now aware of his presence, turned from the nurturing arms and hypnosis and Ivy, to his once captor. He could feel the hostility build up from the scarebeast as it turned around, shot its arms out to the sides, and let out an ear shattering howl into the night. He could also feel the severe distaste that Ivy had for him as well. Last time she called the shots, but now they were on even fields.

The smoke was meant to conceal his positioning, they wouldn't know where he was moving, or what gadget he had out, or anything of the sorts. On the flip side, Batman knew exactly where they were, and what both of them were capable of. The beast would attempt a physical charge, but the bigger they are, the harder they fall. This would make the beast his first target.

His plan, draw the beast out into the alley.

Batman began to step forward, but then he thought he saw something. Something difficult to spot in the smoke, but his trained eye got it very quickly. A faint brown cloud appeared in the smoke, then quickly evaporated into the air. This alarmed him and he quickly decided it would be best not to go to the beast, but to make the beast come to him.

Batman put his grenade away, and took out the grappling gun from beside his belt and aimed it up at the scarebeast. With a quick slight of hand, he shot it from the smoke, aiming to wrap the beast with the cord.