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Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2013 11:38:11 GMT -5
Ivy’s words came flooding into Harley’s thoughts a little too late when she remembered Ivy saying something about not touching anything. “EEEE!” Harley’s eyes went wide as the plant reacted unexpectedly. Normally plants didn’t move unless a breeze caressed the entire plant or if someone brushed up against them, causing the leaves and branches to sway or bounce up and down on their limbs, but when neither of those things happened and Harley’s finger was snatched, there came a lot of confusion and sudden surprise that took over the clown’s senses. Her first thoughts were to grab her purse and beat the plant with it or try to find her gun within the purse and shoot the plant, but she soon realized that her handbag was out of reach. Since her purse wasn’t an option, she was ready to wave her arm around wildly in a frenzied motion in order to get the thing off of her finger. "Get it off! Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!" She danced in place.
Ivy had already grabbed Harley’s wrist to prevent her from panicking and said the magic words that froze her in place. There have been many times where The Joker had shouted for Harley not to move and the results would have become dire if she had, for he always worked with something explosive or some sort of acid that would trigger if Harley were to set it off. Rather than die, she obeyed. Besides, what could a little flower possibly do to her? She didn’t know but she wasn’t willing to find out either. Her blue-eyed gaze traveled down her arm and at the flower while listening to Ivy’s calm and mothering voice, finding this soothing and yet different than the voice the plant woman had used earlier. But wait a minute, she wasn’t talking to her, she was talking to the plant! Harley’s brows knit together when she saw the plant release her and asked, “How’d you do that Red?”
The jester looked down at her finger, which was covered by her red glove, and saw tiny holes in it where her skin shown through. Her finger hurt as if needles had pierced through the top layer of skin. The small wound felt irritating, like having small paper cuts, but other than that the wounds were not very noticeable. She lift her finger up to her nose and sniffed it a few times to see if the plant had any kind of breath that had some how stained her finger. The little sucker was so real, more animal-like than plant-like, but how was that possible?
Harley’s eyes glared down at the plant and thought that maybe if it understood Ivy, it could understand her as well. “Bad plant! You put holes in my glove!” She showed the plant what it had done and pointed to her hand then dropped her hand and plopped down on the couch. With a short-lived sigh, she looked around the home an then back at Ivy. “Got any games?”
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Feb 1, 2013 4:15:22 GMT -5
The question that Harley asks when her finger is released is completely ignored by Poison Ivy, who still has more of her attention on the plant. "There we go, baby, she won't hurt you again - I promise," she coos as she examines the plant carefully for damage, even going to far as to use her own fingers to open the part that bit Harley and look inside the little mouth, though it appears that she can do so without any risk of being bitten at all.
But unlike an animal, whose mouth is full of saliva, the plant doesn't have any such liquid inside of it. The mouth is merely a weapon, not a digestive organ. At least right now... Poison Ivy has many modifications to make to it before she's through with it.
As focused as she is on the plant, she doesn't pay attention to Harley again until the clown girl has the nerve to scold it for what it did. She freezes for half a moment, as now that she's reassured that her plant is perfectly fine she can stop worrying and start being furious at the one responsible for causing her worry in the first place. Turning to see her new friend now on the couch, she ignores yet another question - there will be no games in this place until she makes one thing perfectly clear!
"Why did you do that?!" she asks, her voice suddenly loud, low, and very, very angry, "It was sitting here, it did nothing to you! How could you be so cruel to just smack it for no reason?! And it's practically helpless! I half wish it was a bit older and strong enough to take your finger off - it's no less than you deserve!" Her angry questions are punctuated by an odd sound coming from the lab - the plants inside of it shift slightly in response to the emotions pouring from their creator, even though they're firmly rooted in place.
To say that she's very sensitive when it comes to her plants would be putting it mildly. But whatever hint of compassion prompted her to invite Harley here in the first place also prompts her now to keep her anger verbal and not physical like a very large part of her would really like to at this moment. The clown girl is clearly an idiot, but she can teach her to be better. So much better! The girl clearly needs a lot of help, and Poison Ivy can hardly turn her back on it now.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 1, 2013 13:44:24 GMT -5
Harley pulled off her glove and stuck her finger inside her mouth like a child trying to fix their own wound. Her blue eyes watched as Ivy inspected the plant and wondered why she was making such a big deal over something that was not that important. Plants grew back no matter how damaged they were and there were a lot of them, so why the fuss? Sure it was a different kind of plant and probably mutated some how, but she was fairly certain that Ivy could make more.
The clown girl looked up when her questions fell on deaf ears and a chill ran through Harley. She could see that Ivy’s body had stiffened and the hair on the back of Harley’s neck began to raise. She knew a little all too well about body language when someone was angry with her. Usually with the Joker it was a clenching of the fists, the tightening of the jaw followed by a slow turn around and then a barrage of angry words being uttered through loud shouting in order to get his point across. Having her questions being ignored was one thing Harley could handle, mostly because she didn’t care if people listened to her or not, but to see someone become angry was another thing.
As Ivy’s words came out, Harley’s eyes went innocently wide as she was being yelled at. Why was Ivy mad at her? It’s just a plant. Harley checked Ivy’s hands to see if she had something to throw at or use against her and shrank against the couch in case the woman would start hitting her. First Joker tried to kill her and now Ivy was probably going to do the same thing and all for a stupid plant. Tears formed in Harley’s eyes for today was not a good day to be yelled at. She withdrew her finger from her mouth and shouted back, “How was I supposed to know it was gonna bite me?!” Harley pointed at her finger, ignoring the sounds coming from the lab for now. “And you call that being helpless? It has teeth! What plant has teeth?!”
Harley turned her back on Ivy to sulk on the couch. She sniffed back a few tears and tried not to think about the Joker and his wide yellow grin after having mentioned teeth. She loved him so much and would do anything to see him grinning again. But how can she forgive him for turning that own fabulous grin against her even as he plotted her death? Did all her years of loyalty mean nothing to him? She had never felt so betrayed in all her life and now her only friend is yelling at her for touching a plant whereas the Joker never would have. Then again maybe Ivy cared about her plants the same way that the Joker cared about his jokes. Only Joker was allowed to give the punch line and maybe only Ivy was allowed to touch plants?
“Fine. Go ahead and take my finger if it makes you feel better. I probably do deserve it since I can’t seem to do anything right today.” She kept her back to Ivy while her eyes stared at the couch without actually being focused on it. Her heart was weighing her down again and she simply felt miserable. “Turn me into plant chow, I don’t care any more.” She uttered softly with a tone of being forlorn. Of course Harley did not really mean what she said, but she was known to exaggerate her words when feeling glum. It was laughable for being so pathetic to see a grown woman behaving in such a childish way, although the circumstances were perfectly understandable when one knew what had happened to Harley that day. And how could anyone not pity such a sad, child-like creature with a soft-spoken voice who was feeling low on confidence?
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Feb 5, 2013 23:41:00 GMT -5
"Yes, you expected to just be able to harm an innocent, living thing with no consequences whatsoever. It doesn't matter what you hurt as long as it can't fight back - is that how it is?" Poison Ivy retorts, still fuming, "If you ask me, all plants should have teeth, just for people like you!"
Though once she's said that, she can find her temper easing somewhat. Perhaps it's the way that Harley is reacting to her anger. She's not sure why, but the way that the girl turns away and the words that she says bothers her. Either you apologize (whether you mean it or not) or fight back - you don't just sit there and take it when someone's angry with you! Yes, she supposes that she feels some pity.
Sighing heavily, she forces her anger to behave itself and perhaps become more productive. It's her natural instinct to simply kill off anyone who acts stupidly around her as re-educating them is a difficult process once they're an adult and think that they know everything. But with that option not on the table, it seems that she's going to have to take up that challenge with Harley. Perhaps if she keeps the lesson needed here simple enough it won't be too hard to convey?
Trying to organize her thoughts, she quietly takes a seat at the other end of the couch. She doesn't look at Harley, but instead looks ahead as if she was watching the cheap TV set in front of it even though the thing is off. Her voice is somewhat quiet as she begins to speak, "For as long as I can remember, I've had a certain connection to plants. I can sense what they need, how they're growing... It's been getting stronger ever since I became whatever it is that I am. And most of them mean more to me than most people - selfish, greedy, heartless... How could any of them be any more important than my sweet little babies? And you hurt one of them..."
This time she doesn't sound angry - instead she sounds very sad and very tired. She's opening a side of herself that she rarely shows, in the hopes that Harley will understand her hurt and anger. On a quest to rid the world of the cruelty of humankind - whether that means she must kill them all or not - a part of her looks at the size of that task and despairs of ever accomplishing it. But if she doesn't do it, she knows it will never get done - nobody cares about it the way that she does. Even with Harley she's not trying to convince her new friend that she's right, merely hoping that she'll understand.
"For what it's worth, I know you're having a very bad day. I can forgive you just this once," she adds, "But don't hurt my plants again." One thing that she has an extremely limited supply of is patience, at least normally. But she can forgive this one infraction, she thinks - the plant is okay after all.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 8, 2013 14:58:09 GMT -5
It came natural for Harleen to slip into the quiet recessed portion of her mind when hearing things that she was not interested in, especially when it came to others yelling at her. Normally, she would have brought Harley forward to give Miss Isley a mock-yawn and change the subject or simply laugh in the woman’s face over how dumb it was to be so concerned over a little plant Harley could easily pour acid onto and watch it bubble and melt into a hazardous mess within it’s pot. But she just wasn’t in the mood for joking around, or getting yelled at. Usually when Harleen and Harley are in sync with the other and both are feeling bummed out, they both go quiet. In this particular case, that is exactly what was happening.
As Ivy ranted, both Harleen and Harley focused on the couch since there was nothing else to look at. It wasn’t the finest material she preferred and was either left behind by the people who used to live in this dump, or Ivy picked it up from a yard sale. Of course it was green, the color of the Joker’s hair. Harley reached out and stroked it with the tips of her fingers and felt the texture to be tougher than hair, not as smooth or as enjoyable to stroke. Her eyes wandered to the long, thin scab that formed along her wrist where The Joker had cut her with the razor blade earlier. Eventually she would need to wash the brittle blood that clung to her skin so that her body and mental scars could begin to heal.
Her eyes filled with fresh tears as Ivy’s words turned into her lover’s, chewing her out for having broke his arm and shot him. At least she held her ground and stood up to him. At least she was still alive until he decides to come after her. First he would go after Ivy, and then Harley, for that is how revenge works. Destroy any hope of returning to a better life by removing those in your way, then reclaim what is yours. It was just a matter of time.
Harley sniffed back her tears and hid her hand from view by pulling it in close to her chest. She turned her head slightly when hearing Ivy shift around, then just as quickly looked away. As her friend began to speak, Harley could tell that the worst was over. Harley didn’t know why Ivy did not attack her, but it was better than being harmed. Isley’s words were soothing and they were something new for Harley to learn. She slowly came around and eventually sat up, leaning against the end of the couch with her knees drawn up to her chest and her chin resting against the back of her knees. She rubbed the tears from her eyes and listened like a child with its mother. She understood what it was like to care for something or someone other than oneself, for Bud and Lou were her babies. They loved her no matter what. They never judged her for killing some Joe Shmoe and accepted her when her boss would not. She would kill for them if she had to and she would be upset if Ivy hurt them. That made sense.
Harley’s tearful eyes ceased the water works but her lashes remained dotted with moist, salty droplets. She could see a part of Ivy in her true self. The Harleen that is lonely and miserable. The woman who just wants to be understood and to feel a connection with someone. Anyone. At least that’s how Harleen interpreted Ivy right now. “I’m sorry Red. I didn’t know they meant that much to ya. I’ll be better around your babies, I promise.” She held up her hand and positioned her fingers to create a boy scout promise. It did not matter that she was never in the boy scouts or any charitable organization for that matter.
She watched the woman carefully and she could see that Ivy’s skin was paler than most people she knew. “What happened to ya? Did ya fall into a vat of chemicals to make your skin all nice and milk-white? What did ya mean when ya said, ’whatever it is that you became?’” She pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose into it. She folded the white cloth and tucked it back into a pocket.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Feb 9, 2013 10:45:51 GMT -5
There are more similarities between Poison Ivy and the Joker than she'd ever be willing to admit. They're both violent, very dangerous, quick to anger, highly intelligent, and wouldn't think twice about killing most people. But there are a few key differences: deep, deep down in his core, the Joker is pretty much the same as he is on the outside. Poison Ivy, on the other hand, is like an onion - she has many layers. Deep down she has a very compassionate heart. The only problem is, that compassion normally only extends to members of the plant kingdom, and most certainly not to humankind.
Harley, though - Harley is an exception. Perhaps because she'd already sensed what she's partly attempting to explain to her now - the two of them are similar. Back when she'd been known as Pamela, she had not been so much unlike the woman sitting on the other end of the couch. She'd been... shy. Withdrawn from people yet desiring their attention. Of course, so many things have happened since that point - hurt, betrayal... She's reinvented herself and grown well beyond the woman that she was - left her old self far in the past and never looked back. Oh, but she remembers...
Even if she doesn't particularly enjoy thinking about her life before. She'd been weak, pathetic... Also more innocent. While she doesn't hate what she's become, if she had the chance to protect her past self then she would. Perhaps that's what she's attempting to do with Harley... The world doesn't need another woman like her in it. While she believes in the survival of the fittest, there's always been room in the world for tender young flowers that don't need to be so tough to survive - she should have been one of them...
Wanting to avoid her more uncomfortable feelings, she simply nods to Harley's promise. The girl now understands, which is why she'd said what she said in the first place. Though when that's followed up by a question about how she became to be what she is now, there's a long pause before she answers. She doesn't particularly like thinking about this story either, but anyone who she allows to stay around her long enough is bound to want to know sooner or later, so she might as well satisfy the inevitable curiosity with some answers now so that she doesn't get asked repeatedly.
Though she must say that Harley's the first one she's heard refer to her skin color as 'nice'. She looks at the palm of her hand, still avoiding looking at the girl directly. It's smooth and absolutely healthy, but she's pale enough to be mistaken for being anemic. She used to have a certain rosy glow to her features, but that was before... Now her skin is almost grayish. "No... I had a teacher. Dr. Woodrue," she says, practically spitting the name - there's nobody on this planet she hates more, "He performed an experiment on me without my permission - injected me full of plant toxins. I survived, barely, even though I wasn't expected to. It changed the chemistry of my entire body. I'm immune to almost everything, and parts of me are extremely toxic to everyone else. Except for you, now."
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Post by Deleted on Feb 14, 2013 11:17:15 GMT -5
Ivy had all of Harley’s attention now, for ever since Harley was a child, she loved stories and pictured them in her mind when they were told to her. Ivy’s story was something she had not heard of yet and so her focus was concentrated as she tried to imagine what this “Woodrue” looked like. He sounded like he was made of wood and Harley pictured him something like an ent from Lord of the Rings only as tall as a human with a leafy beard and scientific glasses. Her mind raced with questions of which Harley began to ask out loud. “What was he trying to prove in his experiments? Was he trying to find immunity for himself and that‘s why he injected you with toxins? Was he gonna experiment on himself after he experimented on you if his research was a success? What happened to him?”
Harley looked over Ivy’s face and arms, looking to see what made her different from herself. There was a difference, something unnatural about her but not in a scary way. The woman was beautiful and didn’t need grease paint and powder to make herself white like Harley did. She was lucky she didn’t need all that stuff in order to dress up but then again it was nice being able to fit in with regular people when it was necessary to. For Harley, she only liked looking like regulars when she wanted to slip inside a secured area or when wanting to have fun with others, without them screaming and running away in fear. But then again when she was with her friends, it didn’t matter what she looked like as long as they were having fun.
“I think you’re still gorgeous, Red. I gotta paint my skin to look the way you do but it’d be easier if I didn’t’ have to. Besides, your eyes and hair stand out better compared to your skin tone. You’re like one of those rarities that grow under certain circumstances, like a rose that only grows in moonlight. That and your hair looks great! I thought about going into beauty school but I became a clinical psychiatrist instead. I knew my dad would be proud if I made big bucks with a high paying job instead of owing big bucks to a beauty school.” She smiled at her own little joke but inwardly she was still sad for the loss of her father. He wasn’t anything great, her old man, but he was blood. Normally he kept to himself and refused to give Harley much attention but when he did, she loved having someone interact with her, even if it wasn’t what he wanted to do at that time. That was a good enough relationship for the deprived Harleen. She went quiet as she pondered for a moment that maybe this is why she sought after attention and approval of others, to replace those lost moments with her father with those who would accept her whether they liked it or not. So far Ivy liked her, but it felt more like a sister relationship and friendship than a parental one. She looks up at Ivy now, forgetting her past as if her memories could be turned off by a mental switch, while her cheerful side took over. “I guess I can find a way to bleach my skin to look as good as you, but what’s the point when your boss tries to kill ya?” Again, her tone hinted at feeling pain and growing anger, but the woman looking back at Ivy was no longer Harleen Quinzel but Harley Quinn. “You gotta tell me what shampoo you’re using because your hair looks shiny and soft.” She reached out to feel the ends of Ivy’s hair and grinned. “Yep! Just what I expected.”
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Feb 18, 2013 2:07:44 GMT -5
Actually, unbeknownst to Poison Ivy, Harley's vision of her former instructor as some sort of miniature ent is actually more accurate than how she remembers him. And when she learns this she'll also be rather displeased to discover that the man is also immortal - which will throw quite the wrench into her plans of killing the man the moment she finds him again...
The questions that Harley asks cause her to purse her lips in thought for a moment as she tries to figure out exactly how to answer them. It's really quite technical, and if she isn't careful she could give an answer you'd need to be a scientist in her own field to really understand. But she manages to simplify it down into, "I believe he was attempting to come up with a procedure to change humans into another form of life entirely - more plantlike. But if he intended to do it to himself he was far from doing so - his method had a long way to go before it would be anywhere near safe. There's a lot of plant toxins involved. The fact that I lived was entirely unexpected and basically a freak occurrence, though I suspect that... connection I have with plants may have saved me. But he fled from the police, and the last reliable sighting of him was in Kentucky. Though I suspect he headed down to the Gulf coast... somewhere..." And even there, he can't hide from her forever. He'll get what's coming to him...
As Harley showers her with compliments about her appearance, she can't help but smile. She doesn't need anyone to reassure her that she still looks good - of course she still looks good, she's absolutely stunning - but she does enjoy hearing it acknowledged nevertheless. Though when the conversation shifts to Harley's assessment of how she compared, the smile fades into a slight frown. "Now, stop it, Harl - pale skin is no better than any other shade, unless you're racist. It isn't the color that matters, it's the smoothness and lack of blemishes - that looks good no matter what. And the bacteria that cause acne can no longer survive on my skin - it's that which makes it look nice. And the immunity that I gave you may be enough to do the same - depends on how far it penetrates your skin..." she comments, her lips pursing thoughtfully. Just because she's a highly educated genius doesn't mean that she can now every little side effect of everything she does - usually it's sufficient to simply know what will or won't kill a person.
"And I make my own products - the company that utilizes plant extracts better than I do does not exist, let alone make anything I'd want to use," she shakes her head at that, idly touching a bit of her hair when Harley does. It's full, thick, strong, healthy, and soft - anyone who touches it can appreciate just how good she must be at making whatever it is that she uses. Either that, or she's just lucky and has naturally very good hair, though what she just said implies otherwise.
She won't comment on either Harley's father or the clown girl's recent troubles with the Joker. The former because she doubts that what she has to say on that matter would be taken well - we're talking about a woman who killed her parents without a second thought, after all - and she continues to doubt that it's the right time to address the latter problem properly.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 19, 2013 3:48:38 GMT -5
“An entire race of plant-people? Or would this be more like the Pod People from that movie The Invasion? …That wasn’t just a movie was it?” She eyed Ivy suspiciously and wondered if maybe she had stumbled onto a secret Ivy didn’t want anyone to find out. Maybe her story was all made up and maybe she really was from outer space. So far Ivy has not tried to turn Harley into one of them… then again she did give Harley a shot! “Oh Ivy, ya didn’t!”
Harley looked at her arm where Ivy had pierced her skin with the needle earlier. She scratched at the area frowned. “I can already feel it working. I’m gonna grow branches where my hair is and flowers to boot.” She sighed and pulled Ivy in close enough for a side embrace. “Ah well. At least I gotta friend outta this. We’ll be plant sisters! Hiding among the foliage in Robinson Park stealing wallets from those walking by and hiding them in our leaves. They’ll never know what hit ‘em! Ooh! I’ll need a new nickname! How about The Out-of-Towner, Clowner Flower? Or Bleedin’ Hearts? The Diamond Daisy!” She released Ivy once the woman mentioned not getting acne and perked up. “Really! I’ll get nicer skin?” She removed her gloves and looked her hands over, then got up to find a mirror as if the change was instantaneous. She couldn’t see a difference in her appearance but she took Ivy’s word for it any way.
“I’ve always had nice skin but I could always use a little help too.” She grinned and turned to face Ivy with her hands on her hips, posing like a superhero for no apparent reason other than she wanted to. She joined Ivy near the couch again and watched as Ivy moved her hair away from her, making Harley’s smile spread even further. Ivy was fun to toy with, even when she was angry there was something interesting about her. Harley felt herself becoming highly amused by this woman and became distracted by the thought of changing into a plant-human hybrid. The clown girl pulled off her jester hat and looked over her pig tails to see if there were any roots or branches growing instead of hair. “How long’s it gonna take until I turn into a pod person? Or will that happen when I go into REM sleep tonight? Are we gonna sleep or can we stay up watchin’ movies and paint each other’s nails? You don’t have popcorn do ya?” Harley liked that idea, spending time with Ivy just like she did with friends back in Jr. High.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Feb 22, 2013 22:44:55 GMT -5
The questions that Harley asks and the associated comment seem to come in such a rapid succession, each more ridiculous than the last, that though Poison Ivy opens her mouth to answer them a few times she ends up closing her mouth a moment later. Eventually, she gives up on that and simply waits for the clown girl to stop rambling so that she can get a word in without having to fight for it.
But in spite of the fact that the necessity is somewhat irritating, she finds herself with a slight smile of amusement on her face. Irritating or not, Harley has a certain energy that's absolutely infectious, and she supposes that she likes it. ...A little... "No, I didn't turn you into a plant," she finally replies when Harley gives her a long enough pause that it seems that she's more or less finished. "Because, first of all, I said 'plant-like' - I wouldn't say that the process turns a person into an actual plant. And no, not like The Invasion - I'm hardly under any mind control. And I certainly wouldn't do it to anyone else - it's probably more pleasant to die," she explains, her expression clouding for a moment. She wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy, really. Well, perhaps Dr. Woodrue - that would most definitely be fair.
"All I did to you is alter your immune system a little - in a similar way to mine, but not as drastic and that's not the only thing that's different about me," she adds, trying to explain the difference but again trying to not get too technical, "But maybe you'll get better skin - I don't know." She shrugs that off, as she's hardly concerned about that detail. Her new friend is attractive enough - perhaps she could use a little help with some of the details... - but having slight flaws in your skin is a part of what makeup is for, after all.
Though when the question of what they'll do with the rest of their evening comes up, she immediately frowns at her nails. "Paint over this?" she asks, as she's currently sporting a practically flawless french manicure, only a couple of days old. And she shudders to think of what horrendous color the other woman would choose... "I suppose that I could do yours..." she adds a moment later, not wanting to burst that bubble completely. And she wouldn't mind it, really - she's always been good at nails. She did her own, in fact.
Of course, she has her own obligations to attend to, and it's already quite late. So, thinking quickly, she tries to figure out if it's possible to get what she needs to done and still spend some time with Harley. It doesn't sound like a completely unpleasant thing to do, after all. "Hmm, right now I have a few plants that need some attention, but if you'll make it I have some popcorn in that cupboard," she says, pointing at the appropriate spot in the kitchen. It wouldn't be too hard to find anyway, as her kitchen is tiny and very basic. "There's also some movies in the end table, if you see one you like - I won't be able to watch a whole one, though - I do need to get up early..." she explains, glancing at the clown girl to see if she agrees with that plan.
Hopefully Harley doesn't get her hopes up too high about the idea of a movie, because the movies she has reflect her very specific tastes: they're all documentaries about either plants or female serial killers. Her favorite is the one about carnivorous plants - it's very... inspirational...
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Post by Deleted on Feb 25, 2013 17:55:14 GMT -5
“Oh.” Harley frowned a little in trying to understand what Ivy had just told her. She tilt her head to the side as Ivy’s recent explanation replaced the last one. Harley’s brain tries to absorb the words and has a hard time grasping what Ivy was saying. It’s not that the words were over Harley’s head, it was just that they weren’t having fun and she wasn’t fully paying attention. However, when the Queen of Green mentioned they weren’t going to turn into any pod people, Harley straightened her head and listened. The word ‘die’ made Harley’s eyes lower to the ground, for she nearly did. But the jester’s eyes lift back up again for Harley was in control and not the emotional, former clinical psychoanalyst.
“What else is different about you?” Harley asked, now fully curious. “Did it make your hair redder? Does it change your hair color? Can the toxin change my hair to blond so I can stop dying it?” She became really excited over the idea and spoke faster. Her shoulders slumped when Ivy said that ‘maybe’ she would get better skin. Rats. Anything better was better than nothing. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow it could happen.
Harley watched as Ivy’s eyes drift down to look at her nails, wondering why the woman wouldn’t want to paint her nails. Making yourself up was not only fun but it gave a pleasing feeling of accomplishment afterward. And when done correctly, people gave compliments about how shiny or long the nails looked. Who doesn’t want that? The clueless jester pressed her lips forward and narrowed her eyes to form her question through a facial expression, then lit up the moment Ivy agreed to some degree. “Yay! What colors do ya have? I left mine back at the hideout. We can always get more! Ever shop lift? It’s one of my favorite games! I’ll need some more makeup too. When do ya wanna go?” Her grin faded when her new roommate mentioned needing to do something else, but the moment popcorn was mentioned, Harley was on it. “You do have popcorn?” She sounded more surprised than anything. To Harley, she thought that popcorn kernels were some form of seed or baby to a plant and then to nuke them in a microwave was barbaric for Ivy, even though she suggested eating popcorn. Maybe popcorn wasn’t a type of plant to Ivy. Or maybe the woman didn’t know it was. …What was popcorn made from any way? Yeah, corn’s a plant! Ivy’s a cannibal eating her own kind! But if Harley’s part plant-like now, she too is a cannibal. Harley looked up to realize that Ivy had asked a question and Harley spaced out while thinking about hearing corn kernels begging for their lives as Ivy placed them into the nuclear oven, pressing the beeping buttons and laughing as the kernels popped into white flowers of buttery goodness. “Uh…okay.” She said with a smile, not knowing what Ivy had just said.
Harley blinked and stared back at Ivy in trying to remember what the woman had just said. “What ever you want.” She replied in finding this answer most appealing to whom ever heard it, for it always worked on The Joker. Sometimes he’d expect her to do something and she would just stand there, watching his cruel grin frown and turn to a solemn expression of impatience once he realized she wasn’t listening. He’d remind her through louder words what it was she was supposed to be doing and off she went. But Ivy seemed more like the quiet type who didn’t buy into that sort of thing. Hopefully this time she would be fooled so Harley could pay closer attention next time.
Turning her head toward the cupboard, Harley moved over to it, searched then found the popcorn. “Got any cinnamon? Or sprinkle cheese? Or caramel? Do you like anything on your popcorn or do ya just eat it plain?” The questioning jester asked, betting Ivy liked it plain. What did high society like on their popcorn anyway? Did they even eat popcorn? Was Ivy the one acceptation to this since she was a fellow rogue like Harley was? Stop it! Questioning made you stop listening in the first place! She might answer so pay attention!
Harley's blue eyes unclouded as she looked at Ivy and waited for an answer. She seemed relatively happy now that she was being distracted by food and company, a huge change than from before. With Harley's simple mind, it did not take much to please her.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Feb 27, 2013 15:32:49 GMT -5
Poison Ivy's lips turn into a slight frown as she considers how to answer Harley's question about how else she's different. Mostly because she's not necessarily happy with a few of the items on that list, though she mostly sounds disinterested as she comments, "Hmm, my blood is poisonous and so are most of my other body fluids, sunlight and taking poison makes me feel good, I can't have children... But no, my hair color is natural." Though she could alter Harley's DNA to give her a different hair color... But she's not going to mention that, as she hardly wants to spend her time working out the details for something purely cosmetic.
But while she'd agree that making yourself up is fun, she's already 'made up' - she wouldn't dare go out in public looking anything short of breathtaking, and they just barely came back after being out in public. "Oh, the basics: clear, white, black, red, burgundy, green..." she lists off the colors, "And yes, actually, though I prefer to just call it shopping - they have things, I want them, I don't want to pay for it, they can't stop me... But no, not right now, Harl - it's late, remember?"
Unaware of Harley's listening habits, she figures based on the words she says that the other woman head and understood everything. So she simply nods and heads toward the lab where some of her plants need tending. Though before she gets through the doorway she hears Harley's question and turns to look over her shoulder to answer it. "I'm a vegan, so no cheese or caramel. Or butter, for that matter," she explains, not even having any of those things in her hideout, "There's cinnamon in the spice rack, though. And I like a little salt on mine." And, figuring that's a good enough answer, she heads the rest of the way into her lab and focuses her attention on what her plants need.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2013 18:37:49 GMT -5
Harley was fully paying attention now that Ivy mentioned not being able to have kids. "Ah gee Red, that sucks.” She thought, then imagined Ivy pollinating like a flower instead of being able to birth kids. “But ya drink poison? You could’ve been like Juliet and watched your lover die but you’d be okay. That sounds like a great scam to me! How much dough do ya think you can get outta the saps that’ll buy into you?” She raced around the kitchen to make the popcorn and waited for it to come out of the microwave. When it beeped, Harley poured it into a big bowl and left the bag on the counter, forgetting about it out of her excitement to watch a movie. She plucked the man-eating plant movie and handed it to Ivy to put in the player, then wrinkled her nose at the selection of nail polish colors Ivy had. “I could go with black, white and red but burgundy? Yuck. And what kinda green are we talkin’ about? Is it emerald green? Jade green? Or lime green?”
The jester looked out the window when Ivy mentioned how late it was. “Yeah it’s late but no one will be at the store when we go in and rob it. But if you’re tired we can do that another day. You can paint my nails during the movie and I’ll be here to let them dry when you’re ready.” She got up to get the salt and … what was the other one Ivy said? Oh yeah! Cinnamon! Harley loved cinnamon and looked through the cupboards until finding what she wanted. Like the Joker, Ivy might want to put on her own amount of salt so she left the shaker next to the popcorn, although the truth is that Harley always added way too much salt when trying to please her boss, so in her over eagerness of trying to help, she added just enough of the stuff to make the food bitter. And that is why The Joker prefers to butter or salt his own food.
Harley found a second bowl and poured half of the popcorn into it so she could drown her popcorn in cinnamon. She also got herself a glass of water and waited for the movie to begin; silently hoping that it was not a boring documentary that would put her to sleep or give her reason for her A.D.D. to make her get up and wander. Her eyes moved over to where Ivy had just been and wonders what kinds of things Ivy was doing while in her lab. Maybe she was just watering her flowers, or maybe she had to give them shots in order to get better too? Whatever the case, Harley started to feel a little lonely and her mind wandered back to The Joker.
At first she thought he was smiling because he was happy, but then she remembered he was anything but happy when she broke his arm and betrayed him. She felt her heart sink low into the pit of her stomach as she tries to remember what it was that she did in order to cause him to turn on her. Didn’t she obey his every command? Didn’t she fulfill his wishes? Wasn’t she the perfect girlfriend who gave him everything he needed? She lowered her chin to her chest as a frown took over her lips. But then her eyes caught the cinnamon popcorn. Her grin returned and she plucked up one of the pieces, tossed it into the air and missed. The popcorn bounced off her cheek and rolled away from her. “Ah no ya don’t, I’ll get you the second round.” She told it, tried again and this time it bounced off of the side of her mouth. She 'humphed' and tried a third time caught it, shot both hands into the air and gave a triumphant cry. "Yeah! Woo hoo! Yay! Yay! Yay!"
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Mar 1, 2013 1:48:36 GMT -5
Harley's first question causes a smirk as Poison Ivy comments, "I've bankrupted millionaires before..." Not exactly the way that Harley described it, but not that far off either. "And burgundy is a very high class and sophisticated color," she says instantly when Harley complains, quick to defend her nail color choice. She suspects that the clown girl doesn't like it simply because it isn't a 'fun' color. "And it's hunter green, actually," she answers, guessing that it's once again a shade to mature for Harley. Not that she dislikes the other woman's style, really - it's just very different than her own. She likes to go for sexy, sophisticated, and mature. Harley... not so much.
"It's 'late' as in 'I need to get up early'," she adds, glancing at the clock. And if she isn't careful she just knows that she's going to be kept up late talking. She'll just have to be extremely firm about her bedtime, she supposes. That and to finish tending the plants in her lab quickly. The main thing that they need from her is water at the moment - some of them need a lot, some need a little, and she knows exactly how much to give each. Some of them are really quite delicate and need fairly constant attention to remain healthy. Those that don't need water need other things - she adjusts a few lamps to make sure certain ones are being given adequate light, others need fertilizer, some of the carnivorous ones need to be fed, and one actually needs a small fan to be blowing on it during the nighttime hours.
But, used to that routine, it only takes her a little over five minutes. Ignoring Harley's celebration of whatever she's going on about, she leaves the lab only to immediately disappear into the bathroom for a moment, but she comes right back out of it with her nail kit. That's when she actually looks at the movie that Harley picked. She smirks and comments, "Ah, one of my favorites." Popping it into the DVD player and making sure it's working, she then grabs the other bowl of popcorn along with the salt and settles down on the couch next to Harley with it. "You know, it's been a long time since I've done this with anyone," she comments as she shakes just a little salt over her popcorn.
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Last Edit: Mar 8, 2013 18:47:06 GMT -5 by Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 4, 2013 13:54:27 GMT -5
Harley contemplated where all the money went after Ivy had bankrupted so many men and figured that the police or IRS or whomever had got a hold of the cash. That was the problem with society today, taking back all that hard earned dough and slapping a tax on it. It simply wasn’t fair. Didn’t they know the risks and danger that came from stealing? Police were always tossing tear gas throw windows, snipers on the rooftops, and bullets whizzing by. If only they would let them keep the money, they wouldn’t have to steal more. Then again there was no fun in running around town with Pudd-erm, Poison Ivy if they already had all the money. And Ivy would probably go through it faster than Harley because she did plant research and stuff. Harley would rather spend it on candy, clothes, toys and her two babies Bud and Lou. Speaking of Bud and Lou, she ought to swing by the minion’s place and see if she can get them since Joker most likely won’t be watching them with his broken arm and all.
She watched Ivy as the woman explained how some colors showed sophistication but still could not see how Ivy can wear that color with her flaming red hair. She always thought that the wine color was too purple and that Ivy’s hair was more of a yellow base. Then again Harley didn’t really care much about color anyway because she would was known to be spontaneous and wear pink shoes with a white top and red shorts on the days that she felt like it. Rather than decorate her nails with a boring wine color, she could announce to the world her fun personality with bubble gum pink instead! And what was “hunter green?” She wondered if it was the same color of the Riddler’s costume or the same color of the Joker’s hair. “Green’s okay.” She shrugged, but she preferred the warmer colors of the color wheel over cool, when it came to clothing apparel. Who knows? One day she might surprise Ivy and wear green unless she preferred to keep the color for herself. Actually, that sounded like a fun plan… She could wear green and hide among the plants then spring out at Ivy when she least expected it. But didn’t she just say not to touch any of them? Would the plants eat her like the small one that bit her finger? She shuddered over the idea and thought it best not to hide in bigger plants that could fit her entire head into their mouth. Plants had mouths, right? Before she could ask, Ivy had stalked off toward the lab and Harley considered getting cotton balls to place between her toes for when she could adorn her nails with the nail polish, only that she did not know where to find any . Deciding to make the best out of the situation, she got up to find some toilet paper; which would be the next best thing. She took an arm length’s amount of the tp and twirled around, making it dance on the air as she moved, then plopped back down in front of the television again. She began to tear up the square pieces of bathroom tissue, crumpled them up and set them aside. She then removed her shoes and socks to prepare for the painting.
Ivy had already placed the movie into the DVD player and grinned as Ivy joined her on the couch. “I know whatcha mean. I haven’t had time to kick back and watch a movie for a change. I’m usually counting the money or taking my hyenas on a walk or making dinner or doing the laundry or tucking the minions in bed.” She made that last part up but Ivy might not know what was true and what wasn’t.
“Where’s the polish, Red?” Harley asked as she counted her friend, the popcorn, but no nail polish. She may be scatterbrained, but when she wants to do something, she won’t let you forget until she gets her way. “I’d like to have pretty nails like yours Ivy, but don’t they get in the way of heists and such? I’m always breaking a nail or two when I go up against the cops or Batman. It ain’t fair that men don’t have to worry about their nails. I bet they’d be more understanding and wouldn’t fight us so hard if only they knew the pains of having great-looking nails.”
In Harley’s mind, she could easily picture all the men on the police force talking with lisps and congratulating Commissioner Gordon for his latest manicure. They would each have their different choice of nails too. Some would prefer glitter, while others accepted shiny pearl, others would want gloss and few would have the press on nails that hurt like a mother when ever they broke. They would look at Harley and say, “Oh I can see how heavy that bag of cash is. It must be murder on your nails! Go ahead and take it sweetie. I know how troublesome those things can be.” Yeah if only the cops knew the trouble of looking good, they would let Harley get away with a lot more.
“I bet Gordon would have the ends painted white and then gloss spread on top.” Harley said out loud, not caring whether or not if Ivy understood what she had just said. “What? It’d match his hair.” She explained and tossed some popcorn into her mouth.
“Ya know, money’s made of paper and paper comes from trees, right? Doesn’t that bother you? Or are you the type who only steals money bags full of coins? It’d be easier to grab the bills with a few zeroes on them if ya ask me.” Harley asked and smiled when she was satisfied with the amount of cinnamon she had placed on the popcorn. Granulated sugar was always a plus in her book. Sure it was mixed with cinnamon and that Harley preferred straight sugar, but the taste was good enough and she was fairly happy to be spending time with a new friend. A new best friend.
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