A Fear for Fallen Leaves [Crane]

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

It wasn't long after her escape from the asylum that Poison Ivy caught wind of the fact that Crane has been asking questions about her whereabouts. Why he would want to do such a thing is anyone's guess - they're certainly not friends and she sees no reason to interact with him at all. On the other hand, she isn't afraid of him and she'd rather make herself available to him than to make him feel the need to go to any great lengths to hunt her down.

After all, it must be exceedingly difficult for him to find her - she's not been leaving the lab in her hideout very much right now, and the only two (living) people who know where it is are Harley and herself. And Harley's been sworn to absolute secrecy. The only other place that she's been going is the Iceberg Lounge, but she's heard enough of the gossip to know that the man would probably be taking his life into his hands for trying to get to her there. She doesn't know where he's been hiding himself lately either and has no interest in trying to track down someone who knows, but she's heard that Crane occasionally makes an appearance at the Stacked Deck. But she's not exactly good to hang around in that place until he happens to show - instead she left a message with the bartender, to be delivered to him the next time he comes in, indicating when her next visit to the Stacked Deck would be.

So here she is, about a week after her escape from the asylum, to see if Crane got her message, and if so to talk to him. A quick glance around indicates that he's not present, but then again she did arrive a little bit early. Just to be sure that she's not waiting for nothing, she asks the bartender whether or not her message for Crane was delivered and it has, so she must simply be here before him, if he indeed wants to meet with her. While she's at it she inquires about where he usually sits, only to be pointed toward a booth darkened by the absence of a functioning light fixture above it - ah, she should have known! Unbothered by that, she takes a seat in the booth an orders an herbal tea to keep her company while she waits to see if he shows at the appointed time.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Dr. Crane had been looking for too long, far too long to go without knowing where he was. There weren’t enough words to describe what she had done, what she had taken from him! Right at the pinnacle of what he was going to do. It was all there, it was all laid out and she stripped it from him. It was a bold move, too bold for someone that knew so little of what she was doing and the world that she was now dabbling in. She had crossed into a territory that wasn’t hers and she would quickly find out. Where could she have taken him? And to what purpose would she have gained?

She knew….She knew that she wasn’t allowed to take him and she couldn’t plead otherwise. There wasn’t a man or woman in that asylum, not a being that didn’t know that Dr. Crane had a personal stake on Dr. Jeremiah Arkham and that he would correct anyone, quickly, that tried to stand against that. Others had tried to do so in the past and he had gone to great lengths to put the challengers down. The fact remained now that Dr. Arkham was his and his he was going to stay.

Dr. Crane was not a sociable man, but he could get information when he needed it. The best kind of information came from whispers of others thinking they couldn’t be heard, or thinking that the other didn’t take into account to listen. He had approached some and asked, but only on short terms. It was a strategic effort, eventually the word would get back that Poison Ivy was now looking for him, or welcoming him. It’s how this world worked and Dr. Crane knew how to play it all too well, much better than she could hope to be yet. What she didn’t understand was that she had stepped into his world now, and the rules had changed.

The Stacked Deck was a place he visited every now and then, for whatever reason he would come back there, but never have more than two drinks. His last encounter he got exactly what he had been searching for this whole time, word from Poison Ivy. It was on this night that she chose to meet him. He came into the Stacked Deck, plainly dressed with his patched coat on and slightly tearing slacks. He was far too busy of late to wear anything tailored, the money and resources were put better use into his research and he would simply wear them out anyway. Dr. Crane moved through the smoke and bustle of the bar. People cleared a path for him if they saw his face, otherwise they kept to themselves. He kept his head down, not caring to look up until he got to his booth.

His eyes lifted and immediately locked upon the woman that had taken what was his. His stare remained sharp on her as he took his seat across from her. “Are you scared? He asked as he leaned forward and pressed his elbows onto the table. This time he was direct with the question as right now, she had everything to fear from him. “ You have something of mine…” He reminded her, though she didn’t need it. It was to further push her toward the inevitable fact, that she would hand him over to her, or he would be torn from her.

It was true, his toxin didn’t work on her the first time they had met, but he had developed something better since they had first met. She was nothing to him, simply a woman blinded by a false cause that she would never achieve. But he would bring her to the brink of the oblivion in this world she sought so dearly for it….He would show her what fear was.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

It isn't very difficult to tell when Crane enters the establishment, given all the movement of people attempting to keep well out of his way. Why anyone would so dramatically react to his presence, she'll never understand. He's just not that scary. She watches his approach without much concern, sipping her herbal tea.

As this isn't the highest class of establishment, she's dressed rather casually compared to her normal fare: a black leather jacket covers her upper body, paired with a pleated cream tea-length skirt. Black, high-heeled boots that just reach her knees and a pair of black suede gloves mean that she's showing very little skin. All except for around her face, which is mostly concealed behind a pair of large, movie-star style sunglasses.

But they're removed as he approaches, folded and placed next to her glass on the table. In the dimness around this particular table, perhaps it could be a bit more difficult to see the details of a person but it's not sufficient to hide the fact that her skin is now a rather distinctive shade of green - the slightest of hints of how things have shifted since the last time they spoke. He'd found himself in her shadow the moment that they first met, and she's only grown since then.

The all too predictable question that he asks when he seats himself isn't dignified with an answer, though she can't help the slightest of eyerolls at it. "Crane," she says as some sort of a greeting, or at the very least an acknowledgment of his presence, as well as an invitation for him to speak.

And what he says causes her eyebrow to lift in slight surprise. "Really?" she asks innocently, taking a sip of her herbal tea before commenting, "I don't recall taking anything of yours. In fact I'm skeptical of that simply because it's difficult for me to picture you ever having anything I'd care to possess."

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Dr. Crane’s demeanor changed the moment she removed her sunglasses from her face. The tension in his muscles relaxed as he took in the very apparent change that she had recently gone through. When he had first sat down he was so focused on what she had done he hadn’t noticed what she had done to cover herself. Slowly his body relaxed and leaned against the worn cushion behind him.

For a long moment he had nothing to say but stare at what she had done or what something had done to her. He couldn’t deny her natural ability to work with plants. He’d seen things, he’d had things around his throat that he couldn’t explain otherwise except by some power to control it. It was obvious she had some sort of connection with the plant life around her, or perhaps it had a connection with her. In her current state it was more apparent than ever. This was why he chose her genetics for the scarebeast, and they worked perfectly.

The problem still remained that his toxins wouldn’t work on her, but right now he was willing to look passed it. He had to get Dr. Arkham away from her and he knew she had him. The underworld didn’t stop talking once it started and there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to get him back from her. But it wasn’t going to mean that he was going to give up something to get him. She needed to comply, she needed to follow the rules that had been set before her. They were in place before she decided to show up here and make her presence known. These were things that she needed to be taught, obviously not having the capability to understand herself.

Her comment caused his nails to dig into the already splintered wood for a brief moment. She was playing dumb; she knew exactly what he was talking about. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He followed but was clearly distracted by her pigment. He kept his thoughts to himself for the moment and continued on, the important thing was getting Dr. Arkham back. “You know that Dr. Arkham is mine, and word is you have him…So you have obviously called for fear and it is here to answer you.” He released his fingers from the wood and adjusted his glasses. This could have been so simple, but she was going to make it difficult.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

In spite of his insistence that she knows what he's referring to, her only response to that statement is raised eyebrows and a look of absolute innocence. That quite quickly turns into mild amusement when she sees his distraction as he finally takes real note of her appearance. While she'd hardly change the color of her skin just for such a reaction, she can't say that she doesn't enjoy seeing Crane thrown off guard just a little. He so seldom lets such a reaction crack the surface, after all. What's even more amusing is that he seems to be determined to carry on talking to her without asking her about it first - the curiosity must bother him so, and if he's not going to ask then she's not going to help him with that problem.

Though her amusement turns quickly into seriousness as he finally states out loud what has him all upset. "Actually, I don't know that he's yours," she corrects idly, an amused smirk comes to her face as she adds, "In fact, if what they say about possession being nine-tenths of the law has any truth to it, that would make him mine at the moment."

But she shrugs at that and her expression becomes more serious as she dispassionately adds, "But who he belongs to isn't really important anymore: regrettably, he is no longer of any value. I doubt that you'd care to have him back - I'd say that he's practically a vegetable, but that would offend my vegetables. I was about to dispose of him myself." She sips her tea after those matter-of-fact statements, and though she can be a very good liar when she wants to be, she doesn't have to use that skill here. She really doesn't see how the man could be of any use to anyone now. Well, except that she can always stand to have more fertilizer for her garden.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The fact that she had changed so much was something that he would have to save for later. Luthor had given him an important task and he was going to work on that, that research meant everything to him, but right now he had something in his way and it just happened to be the same thing. She had something that was inexcusable to have and the innocence she was trying to play wasn’t working. The woman knew exactly what she did.

“It makes you a poor thief.” He corrected her and folded his hands together. It wasn’t until she mentioned the state he was in that he threw his hands flat onto the table and shoved out from the booth. Dr. Arkham was a vegetable? His Dr. Arkham, the one that he had spent his entire career to torment and torture and he was a vegetable because of this woman!?

His fingers gripped at the table hard, until the point that his knuckles had become white. He had tossed all reason and sensibility to keep his lifeless demeanor. She couldn’t do this! “You are going to give him to me Miss Ivy…. Now.” He spoke sternly almost through gritted teeth as he tried to use the last of his restraint not to flip the table. Everyone was already looking at them, having never seen Dr. Crane give such an outburst before.

If she didn’t know that Dr. Arkham was his then she must have not known what was going to happen to her if she didn’t give him back. But she was about to. The smartest thing for her to do at the moment would just be to give him to him like the useless vegetable she’d made him into. The thought caused him to twitch. “Whatever you’ve done to him I want fixed.” He added, although he was perfectly capable of fixing it himself.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

While Poison Ivy has shown before just how bold she can be while facing down Crane and just how much disdain she has for him, the way that she simply sits there and continues to sip her tea during his outburst as if he was behaving quite calmly is a first. If they'd been having this conversation a couple weeks ago she would have been more affected - she'd still have gotten angry instead of given him the fear he craves - but it's not just her appearance that has changed. She's grown quite a bit since her escape, and to her he is now merely throwing a tantrum.

"You really should make up your mind," she comments when he's finished, "I can't very well give him to you now and fix him at the same time." Setting her glass back on the table, she supposes that she ought to get down to business now that he's made what he wants so very clear. "Either way, you're asking me for a very big favor. I've never one let a man go after my experiments, and I have very good reasons for that. I'm not saying that I wouldn't consider the idea, but this is no little thing. Especially if you want me to attempt to fix him - and I say attempt because I have no idea to what degree I can restore him. I know for certain that I can't bring him back to what he was - a seed that has sprouted cannot be a seed again. But I can see what I can do," she offers lightly, but then adds, "But, like I said, it's no little thing. I would need something in return to do this for you. Something substantial."

Expecting him to object to that, she holds up a finger and continues, "And before you start into your 'poor, persecuted me' mentality, let me say again that I honestly had no idea that you cared so much about the man. If I had, perhaps I would have treated him a bit more... gently. Not because I care about your precious little feelings, but because if I was trying to manipulate you it would be a bad move on my part to cause him any damage while in my care and risk the chance that you wouldn't want him back. As it is, you're simply lucky that I haven't gotten around to actually killing him yet."

As she explains all of this, her entire demeanor is one of complete unconcern - they could be talking about rearranging the furniture in a room she's never been in for all the care she gives about Dr. Arkham and Crane's apparent objections to her having him. If he wants her to give a damn, something she actually cares about has to be involved somehow.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

This woman was beginning to frustrate him and what was worse is that he was letting it. Never before had anyone been so bold as to try except the Joker and he failed miserably at the act as well. This woman had actually managed to get away with it and what was worse? Made him a shell of what he was. Dr. Crane took a deep breath and tried to steady himself and his fingers from turning this booth over top of her. He had always been known to be able to control himself and in this case there would be no exception.

He wouldn’t have even begun to entertain the idea of doing something for her if she didn’t still have him, after all she stole him. As much as she claimed that she didn’t know what she was doing the fact that she already had a favor in line just proved she was even more of a liar. Dr. Crane was used to people lying to him, just another way to cover their fears, but some people were easier to see through than others. In this case, being barely human to begin with, she was exposed.

Unfortunately his hands were tied in the matter, but just because he was going to hear her out didn’t mean he had to do anything she asked. Without giving her any more time to make her excuses he butted in at the end. “I’ll have to correct you, I don’t care about the man in any manner any more than you are capable of it, it simply isn’t possible. What do you want?” His voice was void of anger now and instead the remnants of what was his frustration now twitched in the tips of his fingers.

He had seen and heard what this woman was capable of and from his own serum alone he was able to discover much at the cost of giving her answers as well. Regardless of whether she would have treated him differently or not he knew that she could do more than she’d shown already. The Scarebeast was the perfect example. But he wasn’t going to discuss that with her, he was still trying to figure out exactly what went wrong in the first place. Now that he actually had a place to run his research with the proper equipment he may be able to find the answer.

But first he needed to get this woman out of the way. She would eventually pay for what she had done. What the cost would be for what she already had would be determined upon how “fixed” he is.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

"Now I have to correct you," Poison Ivy replies, picking up her drink again and sounding more than a little bit bored, "If you cared as little as I do, we wouldn't be here having this conversation because you wouldn't have found trying to find him worth the effort." Taking a sip from her glass, she adds, "In fact the only reason I'm here is because I'd hoped you'd had something at least a little bit interesting to talk to me about. And the only reason why I'm staying is because I suspect you'll pester me about this until it's resolved." She sighs - oh, the tedious things she must do because her fellow rogues are such passionate fools. Especially this one.

Moving on from that, she looks thoughtfully at her glass for a moment as she asks herself, "But what do I want?" Frowning at the glass as if disappointed in it for not providing an answer she comments, "It's a difficult question. You do, after all, have so very little that is of even remote interest to me. Especially when it comes to something worth trading for Dr. Arkham." Pursing her lips, she puts down her glass and turns her gaze back to Crane. "Even if I did need money, you probably don't have it," she comments, "And your research..." She gives an amused exhale. "...Unless you're working on something I don't know about that's actually interesting for once, that's a no. You have no influence over anyone that would be useful to me..." she says, thinking out loud before she trails off.

Again she picks up her glass, sighing as she says, "Unfortunately, I'm having a hard time thinking of anything you could offer that I want. Do you have any suggestions?" Looking at him wearily, as if accusing him for making her have to think of something. She'd really rather just kill Dr. Arkham and be done with it, not have to negotiate with anyone about him. Still, the man is practically useless to her now, so it's to her benefit if she can get something out of this exchange - she's asking to be compensated for the trouble of having to try to fix him and turn him over and not the man himself, really.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

If there was any passion in his voice before it had completely left him. Instead it was replaced by his calculated stare, ever distant and in thought of other things. His mood and changed drastically since she told him that he was barely functioning and he knew that she was going to want something in return, possibly something that he didn’t have. Instead of demanding him back, now he had to think about what to do. She obviously wasn’t smart enough to just hand him over as she should, but she would learn.

Unfortunately, it was taking a long time for her to get the point of her place in this society. He didn’t even consider her a professional at this point let alone human as all. The tint of her skin was proof enough for that. She kept trying to make some kind of stamp for herself here and he knew through the grape vine that she wasn’t being well received. Dr. Crane had done his best to ignore her presence but she even managed to reign him in at one time.

He could describe how he knew her as mutual at first. They both got something that they wanted in the beginning but she was expendable. She should have never decided to show up at his door and in the end she would regret making the choice. But she made the choice because the other option meant she had to face an even more powerful fear to her. He had always been interested in exactly what those were with her, but considering his toxin didn’t work in the first place, going after that was more difficult.

After a while he had chosen to let go the thought, as hard as it was. She was becoming more of a liability than anything useful. It was one of the reason why he had put the hit on her in the first place. The other reason was obvious, to test her. Of course she was able to get through it as he predicted she would. Dr. Crane knew she was trying to make her name then and had rejected her presence ever since. As she spoke he kept these things in mind, squeezing his fingers against the table. He had things that anyone would be interested in but what he was willing to give up was another matter. Unfortunately, there was very little Dr. Crane wouldn’t do to get Dr. Arkham back. She simply couldn’t have him.

“You know what toxins I have that are on the market…But I have others that are not.” He locked eyes with her and tried to think about a very careful way to word his next sentence. “I could offer some access to my newest project involving the Scarebeast.” He said the name clearly to her. The Scarebeast had only been a whisper throughout the Professional underworld. Only the markings on the asylum and the whispers of madmen could back up the evidence.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

It isn't Poison Ivy's fault that she's not officially proved herself in the eyes of some of the rogues. She hasn't had the opportunity to do so, really - partly because she's been keeping herself somewhat hidden away much of the time, but since she's also given the others plenty of opportunity to interact with her if they wish the real reason is because most of them don't want to challenge her.

Which ought to be a hint that she really does deserve to be among them, she'd think, given that they're not normally a group that shies away from hazing anyone joining their ranks. But that's not something she worries over, as it's a problem that will sort itself out sooner or later. She simply has to wait until someone who matters takes issue with something and then she'll crush them and everyone will be aware that she can do so.

At his offer, her eyes glaze over just slightly, but she recovers with a sip of her drink and comments, "Oh, the Scarebeast... Do keep in mind that you're talking to the world's best expert on botanical genetics and toxins - your toys aren't of any interest to me. I may not be the one at this table with the best fear toxin or the best giant monster, but that's merely because I see no point in pursing such things. If I did, then I'd already have them and they'd certainly be more impressive than your efforts." And how easily and confidently she says so too! Perhaps she'd be a bit less free with her words if she felt that she had anything to fear from him, but the fact is that she doesn't. Not even a little bit.

"Surely you have something I don't have that I want," she adds, partly to encourage him to make another offer but also with a certain thoughtfulness to indicate that she's now pondering the issue further herself because she's beginning to doubt that he'll ever come up with anything.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

He didn’t think that she would be too terribly interested in the Scarebeast. That would be expecting far too much of her and giving her far too much credit. The woman clearly wasn’t smart enough to know what was laid in front of her. But considering how long it took before she was caught it came to no surprise. She wasn’t very bright to begin with. Yes, his toxins didn’t work and he was working on that but that was all she had going for her at the moment. Her next move of stupidity was to take something that was his and ignorance wasn’t an excuse.

Her tone caused his eyes to narrow and give her a frigid stare. There were very few things he was willing to give up to her, mostly because there were very few things he had. A man that owned to much became lost in what he had. It was like a plague that could quickly take you if you succumb to its sickness. He put no stock in things of such little worth. The things that he did place value in were things that were indispensable. Anything that was disposable knew it before he took it.

It was for these reasons that Dr. Crane kept what he truly knew mattered close to him and everything that didn’t at a far distance. It set him apart from the crowd even in the Professional world. But considering he was the first, he never put much thought into what they thought of him. It was his judgment that mattered and whether they accepted it or not was their own problem. Poison Ivy had gained her own reputation with him the moment his toxin didn’t work on her. Ever since then she’s just been a weed in a garden that refuses to wither without encouragement.

There were only three things he could think of that he owned. Three things and none of these things he would be willing to offer to her, but what choice did he have? It wasn’t as if he had to make good on the deal, he just needed Dr. Arkham back. Giving those things, if only temporarily was worth it. But there was no promise she would enjoy the deal regardless. He rolled his hand on the table, giving her a clear look of distain for what he was about to say to her in response. “I have much that you don’t, but talent and intelligence are not things that I could give you….More so they are not things you could receive.” He took an inch of her pale green skin with his words before he continued in a casual manner. “I only have three things, The origin of my toxin, VerMillion or my toxins themselves.” He offered plainly all the he had. He had poured everything into his research and it was the only thing of value to him.

The origin of his toxin began at the man her served under, Ra’s al Ghul. It would be information he was less than willing to hand to her but information was valuable. She would be the only other that knew besides what he suspected Edward knew, simply because of the night they had spoken about it. Whatever Edward had done and wherever he had gone had given him that knowledge. VerMillion was one of his newest research subjects, he was unwilling to part with her, but again he was putting forth the things that he had. It wasn’t likely she would take her, but on the other end it was even less likely VerMillion would willingly go. Giving her a supply of his toxin, although it didn’t work on her would work on others. She could claim she could reproduce it if she wanted to, but she couldn’t and he remained confident in that. She wouldn’t know unless he told her how he made it and that information he wasn’t willing to part with either….

But for Dr. Arkham – He may consider cleaning up the mess later.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

In spite of how much Crane enjoys painting himself as the first official rogue in the city, it's certainly not something that Poison Ivy thinks is worth bragging too much about. Like any prototype of some newly invented thing, he was impressive when he first appeared and so easily captured the minds and imaginations of all about what could be. But also like any prototype, he merely broke the ground for bigger and better things - all too soon he became overshadowed by the glory of everyone who took the idea he represented and improved upon it. Some improved upon it better than others, some didn't even manage to tie with him, but the point is that there are now many who are better - much better. And the fact that he doesn't acknowledge that and instead attempts to convince everyone that his precious fear toxin in the most important thing in the world is simultaneously humorous, sad, and annoying.

His first statement only receives a smirk in response - she agrees with his words, but not in the way she knows he meant them. He couldn't give her talent and intelligence because he's already exhausted his meager supply, and she couldn't receive them because she already has a better supply of both than he could ever offer. The rest of what he says causes the smirk to disappear in favor of a more serious expression. "Ah, there we go..." she responds, pleased that he's finally stopped talking about trifles. It's true that he has so very little of any real value, and now that he's narrowed it down that helps this discussion greatly. And she actually agrees with the list - those are actually valuable things. She suppresses her inward amusement about how short that list is, though - she has way more than three things of value - instead she's trying to keep her attention fixed on her goal of figuring out something worth exchanging for all the trouble she'll have to go through to give him Dr. Arkham.

"Well, I know I don't want your toxins - what would I even do with it? And VerMillion..." she says, pausing to laugh, "...If I wanted to take her from you I'd have her already." No, she doesn't want to take the poor girl from him, she wants to convince her that leaving him is a wise thing to do. "Lovely girl, though - did she tell you we met in the rec room at the asylum? I used my influence to ensure that she remained unmolested during rec time - she's quite naïve about the finer points of not provoking the easily provoked, you know. Which reminds me..." she adds, now coming more to the point, "This has nothing to do with Dr. Arkham, but I have a gift for her if she still wants it. And since we don't often cross paths, I'd appreciate it if you brought her with you when it's time for you to collect Dr. Arkham so that I can give it to her. It would reduce the number of times I have to see you." Which would be better all the way around, really.

Getting herself back on topic, she adds, "Now, the origin of your toxin - that's something different. I happen to have somewhat of an interest in that." As she's repeatedly tried to tell him this entire conversation, his fear toxin holds no interest for her. But that doesn't mean that she'd not interested in a related matter.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Dr. Crane had figured Poison Ivy out a while ago. When she first emerged her intentions were clear. The woman wanted to make a name for herself as she rode on the legacy of others to get to exactly where she was. She even came to him seemingly to talk but in fact it was for another reason entirely. It didn’t matter to him, he got what he needed and she got what she wanted. In the end she had only fed into her own problem by doing what she did. The moment he had a handle on what was going wrong with what he’d done she wouldn’t be able to have such an influence anymore. But right now he had an even bigger problem with her.

The doctor had never wanted to put VerMillion on the table. He knew what people thought of them together. He had heard every whisper and every rumor that came across the wind to his ears. The underworld talked faster than the over world it seemed. Despite what everyone thought about them, none of them could have been further from the truth about the matter. No one would understand his plans for her and the only reason they squabbled about it was their fear for what he might do or might not do with her. Everyone was always so quick to try and understand that they would miss the point entirely.

Poison Ivy was no exception.

Dr. Crane was aware that she was let out into the rec room without him. With or without Ivy’s favor on her he knew that she would be able to hold her own. Despite what she may think of him he had given her the knowledge to be able to face what comes her way without him. Just her reputation with him alone was enough to detour most professionals from coming near her, unless they figured something about him that simply wasn’t so.

But what she really wanted hit him. He almost wished it was VerMillion instead. At least if she chose VerMillion he would get her back the moment she released her. He was rather sure of his method onto how he had captured her to keep her with him. He could leave the door wide open and leaving wouldn’t even cross her mind. If Miss Ivy thought that it was going to change overnight she was mistaken. It had taken root far deeper than even he had expected. Dr. Crane had rested back into his seat again, now ready to negotiate something far more delicate than VerMillion. “ That depends on exactly what part of it you want to know.” He remained conservative with the information. There was nothing he wanted to give her of it, but some parts were more able to give away than others.

In her simple visits to him she had seen the flower before. It was easy to assume that she had connected the two, which meant that she was asking where he was getting it from in such large quantities and that he was going to have trouble discussing. “I imagine you already have your own idea about it. Indulge me and I’ll correct you.” He allowed her to speak as he continued to think up a way around the primary source.

[Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy]

Crane is not someone that Poison Ivy needs to figure out. All that she really needs to know is that he's a man, and a positively insane one at that. Which means that she can't trust him at all, but that's of no real consequence. He's simply not important enough in the grand scheme of things for that to make any real difference, and when it does make a real difference she handles him like she does any other man: she brings him firmly under her control.

Does he even realize how much control she has over him already? It's certainly not total, but then again that has never been her goal. No, she only needs to control that part of his actions that matter to her, and this very conversation is proving that she has all the control that she needs. If she needed more, of course she would get more, but what she has at the moment suffices. And if he uses what remains of his ability to decide what happens here and in the future against her, she will simply crush him.

Of course, there's also VerMillion to consider, at least now that she knows the girl and has found herself wanting to be sure of the young lady's well-being. In fact, she might have been satisfied to simply request the girl in exchange for Dr. Arkham if she didn't already know just how difficult it would be to keep her away from Crane. Not that she couldn't easily prevent the man from taking her back, but because the young lady herself would wish to go back to him and would not be easily persuaded to change her mind. In their several conversations, Poison Ivy has never made a real attempt to convince the girl away from him, but she has investigated the question of just how difficult it would be to do so. And though she's confident that she does have the ability to do it, the lengths that she'd have to go to would be quite extreme - more extreme than she's prepared to actually go. The poor young lady has been drugged to the point of insanity too many times already, and she does not want to be the one to do it to her again.

She can't help but smirk at his attempt to sound superior - all it does is give her a reason to be pleased with herself about how much she knows about it given how few her sources of information are. "There is no need for correction, Crane - I do not indulge in unfounded speculation, but facts," she replies, as she's quite certain that she won't say anything that's untrue even though she's guessing at a few bits and pieces - they're educated guesses.

"I know that the flower supplies the primary active ingredient for your toxin. I also know that it doesn't grow outside of it's natural environment - far away from here. And I also know that you don't collect them from there yourself - someone else gets them for you," she smiles, wondering if he'll be caught by surprise that she knows some of that, even though none of it was difficult to figure out. "What I don't know is who that person is, or where, exactly, they're collecting them from," she adds, frowning in her clear desire to remedy that situation, but she shrugs and adds, "Anything else I don't know about really doesn't matter to me." No, she certainly doesn't care to hear any epic tales of scientific discovery about how he came across the formula or anything like that. All the she cares about is the plant.

And now that she's spelled out exactly what she wants to know if this will be what he's exchanging for Dr. Arkham, she sits back and sips her drink with an expectant expression. He can hide it from the surface as much as he likes, she can tell that he's reluctant, and it's ever so much fun to watch a grown man squirm - even if it's only in his mind.