|
|
Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Mar 6, 2013 17:23:37 GMT -5
Actually, most of Poison Ivy's money gets used in the black market. Most of the stuff she could buy from normal places she could also simply take for free, and there's no reason not to now that she's already a known major criminal. She'd do the same to the black market if the people selling her things weren't so much better at protecting their goods. And besides, she has to 'special order' a lot of things and therefore has to keep a good relationship with her supplier. Much of the equipment and chemicals in her lab are very specialized and, while a lot of it isn't actually illegal, attempting to get it by normal means would be tricky if only because everyone she met in the process of doing that would question who she is to be wanting those things. Much easier to simply pay someone to acquire it for her. Even if they do charge her an excessive amount for it.
Hunter green, as Harley will soon find out, is a rather solid shade of medium dark green - just a bit brighter than a pine green. It was so named because hunters would wear the color to blend into their surroundings before modern camouflage fabric became fashionable. And one of Poison Ivy's favorite colors. She smiles when Harley picks it, clearly pleased by the choice.
"Well, I've done this on my own a number of times recently, but I don't get out as much as I used to and I don't invite anyone here... normally," she explains. Watching a movie is actually a really good way to kill time when she's done with her daily chores - which she supposes she has less of than Harley, since it sounds like the poor clown girl is taking care of a lot of people. She, on the other hand, has just herself. And her plants, but they're not very needy and easily satisfied.
When Harley asks about the polish, she simply holds up her nail kit - a large cosmetics pouch with absolutely everything nail related she might want - clippers, files, polish, and even toe separators. "In here," she says, "And no, they don't really get in the way. My plants do most of the fighting and heavy lifting for me, and even when they don't I have really good nails." All this talk about her nails causes her to glance at them. They're thick, strong, and healthy, though only the latter is a result of Dr. Woodrue's experiment. The rest of their quality is simply something she was born with, like most of her good looks. She does have to keep them shorter than she'd like - she does a lot of gardening, after all, but they still have the smooth appearance of hands that have only ever been used for lighter work.
And she knows just how to be careful with them, having spent her entire life concerned with their appearance. It's possible to do many activities that may damage your nails in such a way as to make it much less likely. She wears gloves more often than not when she gardens, for example, and even then makes sure that she's not trying to grip things with her nails. It's when you use you nails to try to hang onto something too heavy that disaster usually strikes, so she avoids that. Though how Harley manages to go from asking about broken nails to the Commissioner, she'll never know. "You mean like this?" she asks, holding up one of her hands to show Harley, "It's called a french manicure. And you paint the rest of the nail light pink before you add the white tips." Better late than never to teach Harley more about such things, she supposes.
The question about money almost causes her to roll her eyes, but she refrains and instead simply says, "Actually, money is made from cotton paper, which is friendlier to harvest from the plant that it comes from. But I don't usually handle actual money anyway - that's what debit cards and credit cards are for. And metal money is hardly better than other kinds - where do you think metal comes from?" It's surprising how many times people fail to guess correctly when they try to understand what she likes and dislikes due to how conscious she is of plants. Then again, Harley's probably used to handling actual currency because of being around the Joker - the man doesn't strike her as being around enough technology to be able to easily access other kinds of money. She doesn't either, actually, but though she's limited in how much technology she has at hand in her hideout, most of her business associates don't have that problem - she deals with a higher class of people than she imagines the clown does. You just have to be more careful about the police finding your bank accounts, but if you're smart you know how to keep the odds of that low.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 2, 2024 5:08:53 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 8, 2013 20:18:33 GMT -5
“I’d like to see more of my pals from Arkham. They used to know me as a doctor but I see them more as friends now. Birds of a feather ya know?” She was referring to the life of a criminal and being able to trust them over regulars. There was honor among thieves according to Harley, for they treated her nice when their victims were the ones who truly suffered. And just as long as she wasn’t the one getting hurt, it didn’t matter what her “friends” did to others. “I kinda wish sometimes I could throw a big bash were all the inmates at Arkham could attend, but they don’t get along well with each other. It’s a real bummer at times but then again I throw my own wild parties when out on the town. Ya outta join me one of these nights.” She mentioned this as robbing and playing pranks on the Gothamites, dangerous things that made her feel more alive than ever.
She began to quiet down once the movie started but her eyes moved away from the screen as Ivy glanced down at her own nails. “That’s a good idea Red! I can get the minions to do most of the dirty work for me! My nails might be saved after all.” She beamed and became instantly attracted to the glorious sight that was Ivy’s well-groomed nail plates and cuticles. “Ooh, yeah just like that! Pink you say? I like pink. Especially the right kinda pink that matches my lipstick and gloss. Boys have told me I look really good with the wet look.”
Harley listened as Ivy mentions the money being made from cotton and that set her brain back from processing the idea. She pictured the white fluff collected from the fields, bulging out from corners on the money. How can it be made of cotton and not feel soft? Was it because of the ink? How come it doesn’t come apart like cotton? “But, cotton’s a plant.” Harley stated and then thought about how money was made. "Don’t they use nickel then spray a copper coating over it to make it look shiny? I remember picking up a penny that had a scratch down the middle. It looked bronze on the outside but on the inside it was silver. And metal comes from mining, everybody knows that.”
As the movie starts to lean toward the scarier scenes Harley begins to snuggle in closer to Ivy out of instinct that staying close to others gave her some sort of comfort. “You’d better paint my nails Red. I jump easy and I don’t wanna miss and get your couch by mistake. Besides, you know where all the scary scenes are in this movie.” The young jester’s voice started to shake due to nervousness and she put her fingernail into her mouth. It was a bad habit of hers to chew on either her hair or nails during nervous times and this was beginning to turn into one of them. She swallowed harsh and started to wonder if maybe the movie was based off of real events. The idea began to frighten her all the more when she tore her eyes away from the screen and over to the plants surrounding them. They looked utterly terrifying looming in the corner, silently reaching out at her with their still leaves and waiting for her to draw close. Harley’s heart began to pound within her chest as she made herself all the more frightened by what could happen to her while Ivy was peacefully snoozing away in her own bed. “C-can I be with you tonight? I don’t do well with scary movies.” She admitted and began to tremble.
A frightening scene was coming up, building up the suspense by lowering the sound track and letting all go quiet. The actor in the movie was unknowingly walking into a trap. It was so quiet that Harley was waiting to hear the man’s thoughts until a plant wriggled alive and shrieked as it grabbed hold of the man and pulled him into it’s awaiting jaws. Harley screamed as well and spilled popcorn all over her lap. Her eyes were wide with terror and her hair was raised from the tiny goosebumps along her arms and neck.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Mar 10, 2013 3:07:44 GMT -5
Perhaps Harley would be disappointed to know that Poison Ivy really doesn't care for the other rogues. While she takes the media calling her one as a sort of an honor since it marks her as a very dangerous person who others should pay attention to, the others are insane, greedy, incompetent fools. The only reason why she'd willingly associate with any of them is if she was getting something good out of it. For her there is no honor among thieves, though you can trust them to do whatever is best for them. The art of negotiations is figuring out how to get what you want in a way that benefits the person you need to help you. Throwing large amounts of money she doesn't really care about at them is usually sufficient. Especially when it's Oswald.
So the invitation for her to join one of Harley's 'wild parties' only gets a, "Perhaps..." By which she, of course, really means, 'Perhaps not.' "Though perhaps you might like to attend one of my parties - I can always change my party-of-one into a party-of-two..." she comments with a smirk. She may come across as too serious to be able to find ways of having fun herself, but she manages. While she's not one for pranks, she does know how to put together a pleasant evening of shoplifting, burglary, bar-hopping, robbery, and murder.
She goes silent again, watching the movie and then listening to Harley. Though she'd usually be one to get annoyed at someone talking during a movie, she's seen this particular one enough times that it's not like she's missing anything she doesn't already know. Though she doesn't actually comment until Harley mentions the opinions of boys about her look. "Why do you care what the 'boys' think?" she suddenly asks with a frown, "Their opinion doesn't matter, and can't be trusted to begin with. You should only be worrying about what you think, and if they don't like it - tough."
That said, her attention goes back to the movie until it's pulled back to Harley again now talking about money. "Yes, a plant that you can harvest without harming the plant," she explains patiently, "A tree, on the other hand, gets killed to make paper." And, based on the way she says it, that's a highly upsetting thing to happen. "And how good for the planet is a mine?" she asks, figuring that Harley will know the answer to that question as well.
As the movie gradually becomes more intense, she's seemingly unaffected by the drama. At least until Harley starts invading her personal space... Oh, well, she can tolerate that she supposes. Though when the clown girl starts to voice her feelings, she turns and frowns slightly. "Oh, please, Harl - this movie is hardly scary. It's not like anyone important dies in it," she says, not understanding her friend's fear at all. And the request to stay with her all night gets an instant frown, "No, of course not! If 'scary' movies are that much of a problem for you, then you shouldn't have picked one - I have plenty of others." And she doubts that she'd be able to get any sleep at all while sharing space with anyone, let alone someone like Harley. Nope.
As the actor in the movie gets grabbed by the plant, she suddenly laughs - at the exact same time that Harley screams, actually. Which prompts her to glance over and notice that the woman has had a bit of a mishap with her popcorn. Fortunately, they're on a cheap couch she doesn't really care about, or she'd be furious at the mess made, but she can shrug it off here. Instead she simply sighs and comments, "Relax, Harley - it's just a movie." Nevermind that she was inspired by this movie to create a plant much like the one in it, and it's now one of many such maneaters scattered throughout the dump to keep intruders out. "If you're done with your popcorn, I can paint your nails now," she comments, hoping that will be a distraction. Especially if it's a big enough distraction to banish all thoughts of spending the night actually with her from her friend's head.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 2, 2024 5:08:53 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2013 10:51:42 GMT -5
Harley lowered her brow out of confusion. “How can anyone have a party with just two people? Ya gotta get a whole bunch of others together. How funny it would be to see Scourge jumping up and licking Cobblepot’s face or Catwoman standing on the end of my cough hissing and swiping at my hyenas? Better yet, we can plan ours together. Half of mine, half of yours! Make half of the room red and the other green with decorations and…” She went quiet during a dramatic part of the movie when the music became more intense. The jester’s eyes turned toward the screen as she watched. It was a false alarm where the movie was foreshadowing a plant attack and the unaware human barely escaped with their life. Harley exhaled out of relief and looked over at Ivy when she was asked a question.
“Boys are fun! I don’t ask them what I should wear or anything like that, but I do like kissing and holding and all that other fun stuff. There’s something nice about getting attention from them until ya get bored of them and find something better to do. Haven’t you ever played them and got free stuff outta them? Or better yet, make friends with them and get what ya want? I get free grub at fancy places all the time! Ya just gotta know how to stroke a guy’s ego and make him feel important.” She waits until Ivy is done telling her that a guy can’t be trusted. “Don’t worry Red. I usually end up blowing them away if I get bored with them.” She didn’t want to mention The Joker at this time. How could she blow away a perfectly good smile or such a brilliant mind? Sure she has knocked him around from time to time but then again what relationship doesn’t have their ups and downs?
In following Ivy’s eyes back to the screen, Harley tries paying attention. “So… when people gather cotton it’d be like us trimming our nails, so no big deal right?” She asked mainly to receive a better picture over what is acceptable and what is not. Retaining that information into her brain is another matter. When Ivy mentioned the mine, Harley really didn’t know the answer. What’s so bad about exploring through a cave and discovering a diamond or gold? That sounds like fun to her. What didn’t sound like fun was the idea of getting attacked by a leafy vine that could wrap around her ankle and drag her into awaiting jaws.
As the movie’s intensity levels rise, she could hear Ivy laugh and slowly formed a smile as she fed off of the fun in watching someone become mulch. “Yeah! Get him!” She nervously laughed and looked at Ivy, then at the mess she made. “Sorry Red. Scary movies are fine with me it’s just that… well…” Harley glanced around the room for they were surrounded by green. Every where. Rather than focus on being eaten, Ivy did offer her nails to have a better makeover.
“I’d like that.” Harley grabbed all of the left over popcorn she had and quickly placed it back into the bowl, but ignored the bunch that had spilled on the floor, for now. She was eager to do something with Ivy, anything really. Movie-watching was fun but this was the second thing that they were able to do together as friends and Harley was keeping count. “I’d like to start off with red for my pinky, white on the next, then black, then red again, then white. On the other hand on I want black for the thumb, then white, then red then…” She looked at her fingers and tried to imagine what she had wanted earlier. “Black, then… red, white, black, red, white black, red, white, black, then red. Yeah that’s it.” She smiled when she finally figured out the continuous color pattern. She also jumped off the couch, sending a couple of more pieces of popcorn to go tumbling across the ground as she fetched her purse. She returned with one container of red polish and planted herself down next to Ivy again. The jolly jester proudly presented her favorite shade of red to her friend and grinned widely.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Mar 16, 2013 6:35:35 GMT -5
"Who?" Poison Ivy asks when she mentions Scourge, having never heard of that one. And she knows all the names of the official rogues of Gotham, even though she's yet to meet many of them. Some other criminal, perhaps? Regardless, she answers by saying, "One or two people is plenty for a party if they're fun enough. In fact there's a lot of fun things that would be too difficult with more. And, trust me, Cobblepot and Catwoman are hardly fun - the former cares too much for his money, and the latter might as well be a vigilante herself. If I have to do anything with either of them, I guarantee that I won't be having any fun." She rolls her eyes, hardly able to take the thought of attempting to let loose while either of them are around. Then again, her opinion of Catwoman would change quite a bit if she knew that the woman was one and the same as her old friend Selina Kyle.
She continues to watch the movie somewhat dispassionately, though the conversation seems to draw more of her attention as Harley attempts to say positive things about boys. "Fun?!?" she scoffs, "What's so fun about being objectified, used, abused, humiliated, disregarded, passed over, forgotten, thrown away, and ignored? The only thing the boys are good for is to be taken for everything they're worth and disposed of. Letting them have any influence on you is complete and utter lunacy." But in spite of the content of her little rant, the easy and quiet tone of her voice indicates that talking about it hasn't really upset her - she's already expressed so much hatred for the other gender so many times that she can do so without even really thinking about what she's saying.
The question about cotton doesn't require much thought either. "If it's done properly, yes, but few cotton growers actually do so," she explains. But you shouldn't get her started on modern farming practices unless you're prepared to sit around for hours listening to her ranting about that. If she were to ever write a manifesto, that would be much of what it would be about.
Unfortunately, she doesn't understand at all what would make Harley so nervous. But to her plants are like her babies - they're not fearful to her no matter how big or dangerous they are. And none of the truly dangerous ones are in this room anyway - it's kind of an overflow area for those that there isn't room for in her lab, and the trickier ones have first priority to be in her lab where she can more easily give them the specialized care they require. This is, in fact, one of the safest places she could possibly be, so she hardly sees why Harley would have any reason to be bothered at all.
But then, just because she doesn't understand the cause of the clown girl's emotion doesn't mean she doesn't know what to do about it - giving her something else to think about is good. Besides, she actually enjoys doing careful work with her hands, and painting nails certainly qualifies. She sets aside her own bowl of popcorn, not having to worry about cleaning up after herself because she eats too carefully to spill. Then she picks up her nail kit again, unzipping the pouch and starting to pull out the various tools she'll need. Though the colors Harley asks for causes her to frown a little. "I thought you said that you wanted green," she complains a little, "And if you want red, I have red too..." She fishes around in her nail kit until she pulls out some red polish in an unmarked bottle - a similar shade to the one Harley is trying to give her. "And this is better, I promise - you can't buy it this good," she adds, speaking like she knows what she's talking about.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 2, 2024 5:08:53 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
Last Edit: Mar 26, 2013 17:30:26 GMT -5 by Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 22, 2013 22:45:15 GMT -5
“Ya know, the flea bag with teeth.” Harley growled and demonstrated Scourge’s claws by posing as a vicious creature. “No one comin’ to mind? That’s alright,. Hey, I hear Penguin’s gotta factory that makes garden gnomes. We could play a joke on him by taking his money and puttin’ it in the gnomes and tell him later when he least expects it.” She laughed over the idea of The Penguin jumping up and down with a cigar holder clenched tightly between his teeth, his stubby arms raised with his fists clenched tightly as he stomps on the ground. The idea was almost as hilarious as watching The Riddler throw a tantrum. Almost. “I’ve always liked gnomes since they look cute with their long beards and tall hats. Puddin‘ even turned a garden gnome into a security camera once.” She thought about what she said and slowly began to think about the affectionate name she just mentioned. Her eyes looked confused for a minute as her thoughts and feelings began to conflict with each other. She missed having someone to love and to love her in return. Someone to hold her and express how important her role was.
“Ya gotta admit it Red, there’s nothing like a stroke of the cheek or a nice snuggle during mayhem every now and then. Plants sneeze seeds every where without even holding hands to start little plants and that’s no fun. Your plants can’t’ love ya like a guy can. Don’tcha miss that kind of affection?”
She watched as Ivy looked through the nail kit and grinned wide when Ivy mentioned green. “You can paint my toenails green. That way, I can have both colors I want and no one will know but us. Whatcha mean you can’t buy it that good? Did ya make it yourself? Does it smell like food? I like those types but they always make me hungry when I sniff my nails.”
She watched the plant-enthusiast work on her nails with some admiration mingled with a sense of belonging. “This is real nice Red. I haven’t been with a gal pal since… since…” She turned her head up to think and tilt her head to the left a little. “I’d have to say high school at most. Even in college my roomies thought I was weird but you don’t, do ya?” She grinned for she spoke more matter-of-factly then in asking a question. “I never had a sister but I guess this is what it would be like if I did. I mean sure I gotta louse for a brother and a mom but no one like you. Did I already say that?” She tries to think back to what she told Ivy early but simply shrugged off the idea and watched in amusement as Ivy concentrated on doing a good job. She sighed happily and rest her chin on her knees. “It’s nice to be pampered every now and then. I bet you go to the best spas or know what works better than what they offer. I haven’t had a chance to soak in a tub for a while. Can I do that tonight while you sleep? I’ll hang my feet over the edge of the tub so I won’t disturb the polish.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Mar 26, 2013 0:07:54 GMT -5
"Never heard of him," Poison Ivy replies, not really caring very much, "He must be new." And unlikely very good, because if he was she would have heard of him before. Any punk with access to a domino mask thinks that they have what it takes to be a major criminal these days... "And I wouldn't want to upset Cobblepot - I'm currently doing a lot of business with him and I don't want that to change," she adds, figuring that's probably the easiest of the many different objections she could raise to that particular idea. Could the clown girl's ideas get any more random?
Though when Harley starts asking her about the touch of a man, she keeps her reactions to that entirely internal. On the surface she simply digs through her nail kit as if she's not listening, though at the other woman's question she answers by saying, "You don't miss what you've never wanted. And the more intelligent of my babies do love me, in their way, though more like a mother." What she's actually thinking about is her own business...
As the colors that she'll need are clarified, she shrugs and simply pulls them out. Black, white, green, and a clear polish join the red along with her other supplies. "Yes, I make all my own cosmetics. You wouldn't believe what they put in the stuff you buy at the store. And mine dries harder, lasts longer, is anti-bacterial, and nourishes the nail matrix," she explains, "But no, it's unscented."
She starts with Harley's fingernails, attacking them first with a pair of clippers to give each of them an even, gentle curve and pausing to file the ends smooth before moving on to the next one. Much of what makes her a really, really good botanist actually comes into play for this task - her fingers are very quick and precise, and she has an extremely good ability to focus on getting the little details perfect. Yet at the same time, she's very efficient and completes the task at what is probably the same speed as a professional. "I think you're weird," she answers when asked, though she adds, "But I suppose I am too." It isn't like she thinks of Harley as normal, after all - she simply doesn't care whether the clown girl is normal or not. She is what she is.
"No," she replies when Harley asks if she's mentioned her family before - if she did then Poison Ivy doesn't recall that. Not that she really cares about the clown girl's family either way. Once she's satisfied with the shape of Harley's nails, she pulls out a cuticle pusher and carefully uses it to push back that extra bit of skin covering each nail, flipping it around to use the other end to clear out the dirt from underneath her fingernails. In short order she'll have them all clean, neat, and ready for the actual polish. Continuing to listen as she works, she comments, "I used to go to spas - I'm not as welcome now as I used to be. And I suppose you can, but don't use anything in an unmarked bottle. Some of the things I use would burn your skin off." She looks up at Harley to add, "And yes, I'm being very serious." Looking back down at Harley's nails she adds, "But anything in a labeled bottle is whatever it says it is." She never really thought about it before, but she's starting to realize that her home is probably quite hazardous to anyone without her... condition. The shot she gave Harley helps with that a lot, but not completely.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 2, 2024 5:08:53 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
Last Edit: Mar 26, 2013 19:19:06 GMT -5 by Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 26, 2013 19:18:39 GMT -5
Harley started to laugh. “You and Pengers? What does he have to offer you? Gonna make penguin plants?” She imagined topiary shrubs in the shape of penguins ranging from two feet high to ten feet. Plants that could live through the harsh regions of the Antarctica or growing and expanding in the Southern Hemisphere, attacking one country at a time. “Or do you have a thing for him?” Harley knew the idea was ridiculous but she wanted to see Ivy’s reaction anyway. And why shouldn’t Cobblepot fancy such a classy and powerful super villain? They both liked money and fancy society, they both didn’t like people, why not give it a try? Ivy probably preferred males that could look down on her and not straight into her chest. Or no males at all.
Harley glanced at the plants when Ivy mentioned them. She couldn’t’ imagine having any pet that just sat in a pot all day, waiting for the sun to rise and give them strength or have someone to water them. She stuck out her lips in thought of Ivy raising a giant carnivore plant that would eat people like in that one movie with the raunchy plant that feeds on human blood. “I’ve never been a mother.” She said with her voice trailing off at the end while her mind wanders over the idea. “Sure I got two hyenas but I’ve always wanted something a little more than just those two boys. I wouldn’t mind raisin’ a kid.” She smiled and hugged herself as she grew warm over the idea. She is pulled out of her daydream when Ivy mentioned her thoughts over Harley being weird.
Harley looked surprised at first then relaxed her expression when Ivy mentioned herself as possibly being odd. “Most people are considered weird when they live alone with only plants to talk to. Penguin talks to his birds and Crane… probably talks to other scarecrows for all I know.” She realized she was getting off topic and watched as Ivy transformed her already groomed nails into something even better. She tensed up and jumped when Ivy pushed back the cuticles for her mind thought that for an instant, Ivy would use the pusher against her as an implement of torture when she had her eyes were focused on the movie. She blushed and laughed out loud. “Sorry Ivy, you took me by surprise.”
She watched Ivy work then heard what she had to say about unmarked bottles. Her eyes grew large at the thought of her skin melting off. “I wasn’t gonna ask if you were serious. I don’t think I’ve heard you make a joke all night tonight. Whatcha gonna use the skin-melting stuff for any way?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Mar 26, 2013 23:18:31 GMT -5
Poison Ivy instantly scoffs of the mere idea of her having any interest in Oswald. The only thing even remotely attractive about the man is his money, which she could easily obtain from more attractive sources. "Don't be ridiculous!" is all she says, as she suspects that Harley knew perfectly well already that she wouldn't have any feelings for the man, "He simply buys what I want to sell and sells me what I want to buy. It's strictly business." And quite useful business at that - her lab is so well outfitted because the man was able to get her what she needed for it. But just because the business relationship is hugely beneficial doesn't mean that she even remotely likes the man - even in the non-romantic sense of the word. If he weren't so useful she'd kill him without a second thought.
But unlike her total lack of concern for most of humanity, her plants are almost everything to her. They're something beyond pets to her - more like children, as she'd said. Little babies who need her care and protection, though some of them are more independent than others. Then again, the more independent ones are also the ones that connect with her most strongly. And those same ones are also the most mobile - quite a few of her plants don't just simply sit in pots, but those are currently resting in her lab.
Though as Harley starts commenting on the idea of being a mother, she frowns. Partly because she's very carefully not letting herself think about her feelings for herself on the subject, but also because if there's any humans she does care about it's the younger ones. Little children are so innocent, after all - they're ignorance isn't their fault at that point, at least. And the mere idea of Harley trying to raise one... "Oh, you don't want to be a mother, Harley," she says, keeping her voice pleasant as if she's merely saying so as a matter of advice rather than a criticism of her friend in particular. "Did you not take that class in high school? The one with the bag of flour?" she inquires.
Concentrating as she is on Harley's nails, she doesn't bother to comment further on how weird everyone is. Of course, there's people like the other rogues who are weird because they're even more massively idiotic than the rest of everyone, and then there's people who are weird like her because she's actually willing to do what is required for the well-being of everyone. Her musings on the subject are cut short when Harley suddenly jumps at the sight of the implement she was using, though fortunately she had a firm but gentle hold on the clown girl's hand or she really might have accidentally poked her with it. Sighing softly, she asks, "Harl, if I was going to hurt you, wouldn't I have done so by now?" Though it doesn't take her much time to be finished with that little task either.
Only one thing remains for her to do before she pulls out the polish - buffing the surface of the nails. "It doesn't hurt my skin," she remarks as she gets started with that, "And because it doesn't, it's very good at removing anything from my skin that shouldn't be there." And she really does get a lot of things on herself that she probably shouldn't allow to stay there whether they harm her or not in the course of her work - toxic substances, mostly. An acid or a base that her skin can tolerate but is nevertheless quite strong is very useful for breaking down pretty much anything she might get on her.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 2, 2024 5:08:53 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 30, 2013 17:05:50 GMT -5
Harley smiled as Ivy spoke about The Penguin, clearly showing her distaste in the man. Still, penguin-shaped plants that attacked people would be fun to see. Maybe they could even be ridden? Nah. There would be too many branches sticking out and poking in places where they didn’t belong to enjoy a plant ride. Harley had fallen onto a bush before, she knew what they felt like.
The clown girl blinked when Ivy mentioned high school and the home economics class she took. “Of course I remember the flour sack babies. I drew bright blue eyes on mine, threw on some puckered pink lips and drew blond hair on mine. It was kinda nice toting it around until I tripped and it went over the balcony. Ya should have seen the mess it made, Red! There was white powder all over the second floor and a big enough dust cloud that drifted up to the second floor! It was kinda cool to watch even though I flunked the class. They said I wouldn’t make a good mother but I disagree. A synthetic baby is one thing but I’d do better with a real kid. I’ll show them! I’d make a little clown outfit for my baby and draw in little red cheeks on it and a bit smile! I’d take it every where with me. Shoppin’, on long drives out of the city, and I bet Bud and Lou would love to play with it.” She wondered why Ivy brought up the class in the first place. “Why do you ask? Did you flunk that class too?”
She looked down at Ivy’s hand firmly holding onto hers and shrugged. “I guess so.” She said in answering Ivy’s question. “So far you’ve been pretty good with me.-Letting me stay at your place, letting me watch your movies and doing my nails. Sure ya gave me the shot but I feel better already. Ya did get a little upset with the whole plant thing but I get it. You love them like I love my hyenas. They can’t help it if they get hurt and it’s our job to make sure that they don’t. Kinda like how I feel about looking out after you in case you get hurt.” She said this matter-of-factly for the time being because as long as she felt wanted by Ivy, she would try and be the best friend that she could to her. After all, she needed that security of having someone to appreciate her at that time of her life. Harley always needed companionship and to be adored by others. If not, things got ugly. But a part of her really meant what she said for she liked Ivy so far. Not necessarily the bad temper but so far Ivy has not physically attacked her. Sure Ivy’s temper made Harley feel small at times, but people say that red heads are blonds from Hell. It made sense that Ivy would have a temper based on public speculation.
Her eyes wandered along Ivy’s neck and face, looking for any imperfection that would be on her. The woman was perfect, there was no doubt about that. Not even one hair was out of place on her head. “What are ya talkin’ about things that shouldn’t be on your skin? I don’t see anything. Is it some kind of mole or wart remover? Or do you grow leaves out or your ears every now and then?” She was asking out of seriousness for she had no idea what Ivy was talking about. “Are ya talkin’ about arm hair?” She figured that if Ivy was like a plant herself, she wouldn’t need to wax because most plants didn’t have hair. But wait, she had a head full of hair, and eye brows. This confused Harley even more. She figured Ivy was a plucker. Plucking away any hairs that seemed out of place or waxing the underarms and legs. But if there was a chemical that could remove such annoying hairs, that would be better than having to tweeze anything. She’d have to find out by asking if this was the case.
As the movie continued, more screams and shrill plant cries interrupted her discussion with Ivy. Harley laughed as the plant victims were slowly being devoured for the whole thing was cheesy. However, she slowly turned to look at the house plants surrounding her and suddenly the movie did not seem as lame as she had thought. Her skin became clammy the more she thought about the plants turning on her and her laughter became more nervous-sounding. "Great show, Red. But I prefer Killer Clowns from Outter Space." She uttered in order to feel better. "How cool would it be to make a balloon animal and let it sniff out your prey? Or sticky cotton candy that wraps people up in a pinky fluffy cocoon? It wouldn't hold me back because I'd eat it and escape. I like cotton candy and other sorts of candy." She rambled on for feeling nervous and remembered that Ivy does not have sugary treats in the house. The popcorn was good but it's not as tasty as a Cherry Cola, gum or Pop Rocks. Sugar always calmed the nerves after a bad day and gave her plenty of energy to pester others. Ivy didn't seem like the type who wanted to be bothered and believe it or not, Harley did actually tone down her hyperness for her fellow roommate. After all, she didn't want to lose Ivy as a friend at this time in her life. Maybe not ever if things go well between them.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Apr 1, 2013 21:04:22 GMT -5
So Harley completely failed the flour sack baby test? Why is Poison Ivy not the least bit surprised? "No, I got the highest grade in the class," she answers easily, "I did in most of my classes actually." It wasn't even that hard, actually - being highly intelligent and friendless meant that she had little difficulty learning what the teachers were trying to teach her, even if they weren't particularly good at it, and had plenty of time to focus on her studies. Of course, there were a few subjects she was weaker in - gym, especially - but that only meant that someone in the class had the opportunity to surpass her. She still graduated with a 4.0.
"I don't see how a real baby would be less difficult than a sack of flour," she comments idly, choosing to make her point that way rather than the way she really wants to - by developing a stupidity induced headache. She can still do that later - for now she'll try logic. "I mean, a sack of flour simply sits there and requires no actual care," she adds, uncertain whether she dare hope that thought will sink in or not.
She doesn't bother to respond to Harley's analysis of how she hasn't been hurt at first. It all goes without saying, really, but perhaps now that she's pointed that out so bluntly the clown girl will give herself permission to relax a bit. Though after that last comment settles into her mind a bit, she finds herself commenting, "You don't need to worry about me." If Harley were a man, that would have been said with some offense to her tone - she doesn't need a man to protect her! But coming from a woman, the statement doesn't cause quite the same reaction - instead she says it mildly, because she actually appreciates the sentiment, but suspects that, if anything, Harley is much more in need of looking after than she is. In fact if she ever gets to the point of actually needing Harley's help, she'd probably be in dire straights indeed. It's pride that makes her speak up, really.
And it's also pride that causes her to look mildly irritated as Harley tries to guess why she needs the occasional chemical bath. Moles? Warts? ...Leaves? She gets no such things! "No," she says, bluntly answering all of those distasteful questions with a single word, "I'm an expert on toxins - I get toxins on my skin. And I'm not fond of accidentally killing everyone I touch." Well, not most of the time, anyway. And hopefully that will be the end of uninvited questions about her personal hygiene! It's one thing to ask if someone can recommend a product or to complain about your own body, but to imply that someone else has such undesirable things (whether it's true or not) is certainly not polite. At least, not according to the etiquette that she was raised with.
But she distracts herself from that annoyance by setting aside the nail buffer and switching to the polish. She's always been good at such fine detail work, but making sure to get it on the nail just so is still something that takes a lot of concentration, so it's hard to fume within yourself and apply nail polish at the same time. Starting with the red, she applies the pattern that Harley asked one color at a time and skipping two nails in between, rather than doing the nails in order and having to switch colors for each one - easier that way. It's a garish combination of colors, but she'll do whatever will make Harley happy. Though when her new friend finishes rambling about killer candy, she simply says, "I noticed." She can't say that she's particularly interested in that particular topic herself.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 2, 2024 5:08:53 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
Last Edit: Apr 8, 2013 16:57:19 GMT -5 by Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2013 10:48:42 GMT -5
Harley stuck her tongue out from the corner of her mouth and half-closed one eye in order to imagine the pale-skinned beauty with colorful red hair cradling a flour sack and humming a lullaby. In reality, Ivy most likely had peach-colored skin and would not have gone to such lengths to cradle a fake child. But how would Harley have known what Ivy looked like back in her college years? What she sees now is how she will always picture the plant-lover, unless Ivy changed her appearance for a second time.
“And ya can’t really make bread out of a baby.” Harley mused over the idea and possibility that should never be put to the test. “Besides, I don’t wanna baby called Loafy. Just something small and defenseless. Someone to rely completely on me and no one else. Someone to love me for ever and ever.” She sighed happily as her thoughts strayed back to the idea of being popular and much loved. If only Harley and Ivy met in college, Harley was certain they would have been best friends back then too. Harley would start talking about boys and Ivy would shove her into the men’s room while saying, “If you love them so much, why don’t you join them?” Ah, those would have been good times. Harley the gymnast and Ivy the teacher’s pet. This was all pretend in Harley’s mind of course, but to her the idea of this being true excited her and made her want to know Ivy before tonight. The thought of seeing Ivy’s life before a villainess would have been fun to see… until she saw that it would have been perfectly normal and boring. Even Harley didn’t like her life before she became the Clown Prince of Crime’s lover.
“Ooh,” Harley replies when she finds out what are in the shampoo bottles. “Good call Red. I had a wart once, but then I got it frozen off. Kinda funny if ya think about it. Mr. Freeze could freeze all sorts of things off of the body. Warts, moles, limbs… He outta be a doctor.” Her mind had a tendency to bounce from one idea to the next without giving a pause in between. She knew exactly what she was talking about… which was usually utter nonsense, but to her the connections from one topic to the other made perfect sense.
“I’ve never met him but I bet his lab would be interesting. Do ya think he originally froze ice cream with Liquid Nitrogen and that someone stole his idea? Or maybe they watched him freeze everything and then got the idea to do that to ice cream? I wonder what bubble gum would taste like when frozen then thawed? I’ll have to test the flavor the next time that I run into him.” She imagined the citizens of Gotham running around and screaming in order to escape certain death from Mr. Freeze’s attack while she would calmly take the gum out of her mouth and stuck it to a wall. Once Freeze’s freeze gun would turn the world to ice, that is when Harley would calmly chip away at the ice in order to retrieve her gum. She did not consider the idea that maybe Freeze’s freeze gun could run on chemicals that might contaminate her gum, nor did she really care. It was most likely that she would end up forgetting about the plan and move onto what ever else came her way. “I’d like to have him make me an ice cream gum that shoots out pink bubble gum with little chunks of pink, squared pieces! I’d never get tired of that! I’d coat Batman’s Batmobile in the stuff and Brat Boy too!” She giggled over the idea.
Harley continued to watch Ivy’s work in progress and felt pretty good when Ivy mentioned her observation of Harley’s like for sugar. It was like she was trying to get to know Harley better by picking up on such things, or at least that’s how Harley translated it as. She kept grinning and sighed contently. “Can I paint your nails next?” Her grin turned devilish in knowing Ivy would never allow it.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Apr 7, 2013 22:45:58 GMT -5
No, Poison Ivy hadn't cuddled the sack of flour or in any way treated it like a real baby, actually. She merely kept it with her as outlined in the project instructions, wrote a thoughtful paper claiming that she'd learned what the teacher wanted her to learn from the experience, and got a really good grade for her efforts. "Love?" she asks, scoffing at the very idea, "Babies don't love you. They need you. Huge difference. They don't even care whether it's you or some stranger taking care of them for months. And it takes over a year before they say 'I love you', and they only do it because you told them to say it, not because they know what it means." Not that she actually thinks that a baby wouldn't be worth it in the end, but if Harley thinks that it's a good idea for herself then Poison Ivy is happily to make it sound as bad as possible.
Though actually, her life before becoming a villainess wasn't boring. She was, after all, rich - there were endless amounts of clothes and jewelry, fancy parties, fast cars, and all the fake friends you could ever want. Sure there were many parts of it that she didn't enjoy, and many others that she took for granted until she didn't have it, but it was hardly boring. Yet she gave it all up for her plants, and she'd happily give up much more than that - until she had nothing left, even. Then again, she's not the type of person who can't go from nothing to something livable relatively quickly. This place is proof of that, actually - she'd had almost nothing after her money and estate were seized by the authorities.
Concentrating on Harley's nails, she sees no reason to comment as the clown girl starts rambling on about Freeze for whatever reason. She's never met the man, and doubts that she'd like him if he did. He's a man, after all, but beyond that he's also rumored to not be very sociable. The only way she indicates that she's even listening as Harley starts pondering ways to mix ice with candy out loud is by occasionally glancing up with a very passive expression.
Though when Harley asks about her nails again, Poison Ivy's eyes stare at her for a moment before she simply asks, "Did you really forget that I answered that already? Or do you honestly think that my answer would change inside of an hour?" Her voice indicates only mild annoyance behind those questions, and her attention shifts quickly back to Harley's nails. Which she's almost done with, actually. With as much practice as she has, covering a nail only takes a few careful strokes of the brush - two to outline the edges of the nail, and then filling in the middle. Only a few minutes in, and she's finished the white and black nails, and she's finishing off the last couple of red ones.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 2, 2024 5:08:53 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 8, 2013 16:56:26 GMT -5
Harley started to feel disappointed to learn that a baby doesn’t love the mother but then decided to take a different approach. If a baby doesn’t mind being away from a mother, then Harley could take one and keep it as her own! She would teach it to say that it loved her and would take care of it for as long as she wanted. Since it wasn’t her actual kid, she could ditch the brat if it became too much of a hassle. But who had a kid in Gotham? No one that she knew of. All the villains were preoccupied with their own current obsessions and her hyenas weren’t the same thing as a real baby. Then again this could just become another one of Harley’s passing fancies. Knowing her, she’ll probably forget all about children once she goes right back to The Joker. If she returned to him.
“I did?” Harley asked when Ivy asked if Harley had forgotten about asking if she could do Ivy’s nails. The jester’s eyes turned up and to the right as she thought back about what they had talked about. Let’s see, don’t flick a little plant because they are Ivy’s babies. Don’t use the shampoo bottles … no wait, the unmarked bottles? Which ever one that’ll burn off your skin because Ivy plays with chemicals and she doesn’t want my skin to burn off if she touches me. Don’t go into the lab or touch any thing because… there are breakable objects in there? What did she say about sharing a bed?
Harley’s eyes turned toward the silent plants and shuddered briefly. She didn’t trust them, not after one had just recently bit her gloved hand. If it were up to her, she’d smash it with her mallet to show her who’s boss. And knowing her luck, a bigger plant would probably attack and eat her once it sensed what Harley had done to it’s kin. Death by a hybrid plant. That’s not a fun way to die, according to Harley. Death by circus midgets on the other hand….
“What were we talkin’ about?” Harley asked out loud now that her thoughts had grown quiet. “Oh yeah! Are your eyes really that pretty color or are they contacts? They’re real right? You like plants because your eyes are green, right? I don’t like red or cherries because my eyes are blue. I like cherries because they taste good. And I wear red because Mistah J choose it…” Harley’s eyes lowered to the ground when a sudden sadness washed over her senses. “…For me.” She finished quietly and then remained silent. She had almost forgot what he had done to her thanks to Ivy’s home and lively plants.
“But green is nice.” She added softly, although green was the color of her boss’s hair. She didn’t really feel like thinking about him at that moment as Harleen came forward to express her grief, but Harley returned and the sad eyes dissolved as mischief took over. She could get revenge on The Joker when he’d least expect it. She didn’t know how or when, but she had plenty of time to think about that later. She would prove to him that she wouldn’t be easily disposed of. She would prove to him that she had what it took to stand on her own two feet. And when he was at her feet begging for his life she would… she would… what would she do?
Harley’s brow furrowed in thought as she wondered. Maybe she could set him up and send him back into Arkham Asylum or maybe she could trick him into going after a heist and have it turn on him in the end. Her grin grew the more she began to like that idea. But how does one outwit The Joker?
|
|
|
|
Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Apr 10, 2013 20:30:22 GMT -5
"Yes, and I said no," Poison Ivy informs the clown girl, shaking her head. She literally forgot? Really? How is that even possible? Harley may need more help than she thought... But no matter, she can manage. Besides, she's easily distracted from such thoughts by her need to be very focused on what she's doing. Actually, she could probably stand to be much less focused, but that's simply her personality.
And she certainly doesn't mind the silence as her friend gets lost in thought. If anything, she enjoys the quiet more - she's used to it. Her plants aren't much for talking, after all. Or at least, the way they 'talk' to her is completely silent. Once she finishes the last red nail, she sits up straight and surveys her work. Hmm, the combination of colors is absolutely garish, but that just seems to be Harley's style and she's sure the clown girl will be pleased. And if not, it won't be by finding fault with her work.
Meanwhile, it seems that the conversation has somehow shifted to colors. "Everything about me is real," she replies first, "And no, I like green because plants are green and I look amazing in it. Red too - it's an amazing color for no other reason than the fact that it's red." True, her costume is green and she can't wear some shades of red because it clashes with her hair, but those shades she can pull off she loves to wear when she isn't in costume. But other than telling Harley of red's inherent worth regardless of that clown says of it, she's not about to comfort the girl for being upset about him. That man is hardly anyone to be upset over, so she refuses to do anything that would encourage it further.
"That will do it for your finger nails - let them dry," she adds, because while she won't offer comfort, she's happy to provide distraction, "It's toe time." And though it's the same process for toenails, they're smaller and less finicky than fingernails so they'll take much less time. She sets aside the fingernail colors in favor of the green. Again, the combination... but she'll give her friend what she wants.
|
|