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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Jan 8, 2011 21:15:28 GMT -5
Home at last! And when Pamela gets home she heads straight for the large greenhouse in back. If it weren't for her obsession she probably would have opted for a small apartment closer to the center of town like any other debutante. But no; she'd wanted a place where she could have her own greenhouse with her own lab where she could refine her craft in peace. The house was used strictly as a place to sleep and, occasionally, to entertain. And actually, she was known to spend the night on the couch in the greenhouse. Her greenhouse would be an eerie place for anyone else, even though she's not currently growing anything too dangerous to people. She currently has an over-abundance of plants capable of rapid movement such as the famous venus flytrap and other carnivorous plants, though the more dominant natural species are several varieties of "sensitive" pea plants which fold their leaves when disturbed. Further in are her own hybrids that can do the same and more, as well as respond more readily to her mental touch. But that project isn't quite finished - why worry too much about her possible mental abilities when she has a planet to fix? She doesn't keep much beyond seeds of her latest few projects. She has visitors from time to time, and it wouldn't do for her to have anyone familiar with the strange plants that have been cropping up around Gotham to spot them in her greenhouse. Instead she keeps each new hybrid just long enough to test it before sowing the seeds by their intended target since each is so specialized there's no reason to keep a living specimen after she verifies that it works as intended. Sighing as she sets down what she's carrying, she wanders through her lab for a moment to check everything she left running while she was away, then she starts to work on something else - readjusting her own body chemistry. Again. (OOC Note: Pamela is now available for phone or house calls. For anyone who wants to pay a visit politely, this is one of those places with a telephone entry thing at the front gate. For anyone who wants to pay a visit impolitely, the greenhouse is unlocked. )
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Last Edit: Jan 10, 2011 12:15:13 GMT -5 by sincereagape
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Post by sincereagape on Jan 10, 2011 7:52:48 GMT -5
(Excuse the grammer and typing mistakes. Did not have time to proof-read the post.) "This is the place boss. The home of Pamela Isley," Mugsy began this evening by signifying the gang had reached their destination. Before them stood a gated house in the northern part of Gotham City. This was where the corporate executives, powerful government politicians, and a few of the mob capos held residency. If one was to travel 15 miles from north of this area they would reach the exclusive and isolated Wayne Manor. The first thing the Ventriloquist noticed was the large greenhouse towards the rear of the house, which was not un-expected after reading the file. But the Greenhouse was easily one of the most impressive structures on the block, and easily made this home stand apart from the rest of the large houses. The Greenhouse was almost the size of the main building, and if you were to measure the height, it would stand easily three stories tall. The entire gang was here, Mugsy, Rhino, and Mouse. Scarface began to bark orders. "Wha' are ye mugs waiting for? Santa' Clau'se to my-ster-io-u-sly arrive'? Let's get moving! Mouse ye stay in the car. Rhino and Mugsy, yer with me and the Dummy." Their limo pulled up towards the backyard of the house as Ventriloquist exited with his two partners. They reached the iron gate which was covered with moss and ivy, just like the Wrigley. Field. "RHINO! Talley-Ho!" "Sure thing boss." The strong man of the quartet, walked up to the gate and made an opening, by pulling apart two poles of the gate. There was a loud sound of rusted metal before forced to move. The Rhino was easily one of the strongest non-metahuman gangsters in Gotham, and it was a good thing the Ventriloquist noticed his talents before anyone else. -Rhino and Mugsy. Mugsy made his way through the opening first, followed by the Ventriloquist, and then Rhino. The two gangsters were dressed in suits. Mugsy held a tommy gun in his hands. Scarface was armed with a tommy gun as well while the large Rhino preferred to let his fist do the talking. The three, well four of them ran up to the greenhouse door. Mugsy tried the sliding glass door, and luckily found it unlocked, Mugsy looked back at the Ventriloquist and Rhino. "This probably means the dame is here," stated Mugsy. Scarface nodded, "Sure doe'. Remem'er ye mooks, let Scarface do the talking!" When the gang entered into the greenhouse, the Ventriloquist was not expecting what he saw. The greenhouse was huge. It resembled the tropical rain forest exhibit at the Baltimore Aquarium, or the Gotham City arbortorium. There was a slight mist. The air was moist, and above them the Ventriloquist could make out large spot lights or sun lights which Miss Isley probably used to provide the plants with a source of sun during the Winter. "Mugsy, Sprea' out, Ye try to flank the dame, while Rhino, the Dummy, and make her come out in' the open." ordered Scarface. Mugsy fanned in one direction, while Rhino stayed with the Scarface. The Ventriloquist and the Rhino made their way towards the center of the greenhouse, feeling that something, or many things were watching them. There was a small path that they followed until they reached a four way intersection that lead to various parts of the facility, time to call out the target. "Yoohooooo. Anyo'ne home? Special delivery for Miss' Pamela Isley."
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Jan 10, 2011 12:32:39 GMT -5
Ever since incident that made Pamela who she is, she's been extremely paranoid in general but especially toward men. Dr. Woodrue had been her first love; a love that, unbeknownst to her, was entirely one-sided. His betrayal had poisoned not just her body, but her ability to trust anyone, ever. And she knows that he's still out there, having escaped from police, and despite the constant reassurances of everyone to the contrary, she knows perfectly well that nothing is stopping him from finding her again. She is, after all, a significant step in his life's work. She's been prepared to defend herself from him from the moment she returned home from the hospital, not to mention any other situation her overly paranoid mind can come up with.
And so, Pamela is one of the few women in the world who is prepared to deal with a group of men holding machine guns with a moment's notice. And a moment's notice she gets, because she lives alone and in a fenced estate; the sound of footsteps in her greenhouse when she hasn't cleared anyone to enter the front gate is a dead giveaway of trouble. Not knowing what to expect, she expects the worst and hastily grabs a sealed vial full of colorless liquid that she'd stashed in the corner of a drawer, just in case. The indistinct sound of deep voices confirms in her mind, at least, that it's the proper choice for this situation.
That's when Pamela hears the rather irritating call of someone obviously trying to find her. Well, she may as well give them what they want. She steps out of the lab area and enters just within the greenhouse, holding the vial with a loose grip just in front of herself in a defensive manner. And to judge by how coldly confident she is even when she spots two of them, despite the size of one and... Is that guy holding a dummy holding a tommy gun? It's a good thing she's too irritated by their presence to laugh! ...she obviously has a great deal of confidence in the contents of the vial, and the delicate way she's holding it is probably meant as a threat to drop it. Not that a vial can protect her from bullets, but that would likely result in all of them dying.
"What do you want with me?" she demands, sounding inconvenienced. She hasn't spotted Mugsy yet, since he was sent to the side, but given that the greenhouse is full of plants that move when touched and that the plants closest to the lab move much more dramatically - some of the taller ones fold every branch and leaf firmly against their stems within a few seconds - it makes sneaking around the greenhouse without being noticed a bit difficult.
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Last Edit: Jan 10, 2011 18:13:23 GMT -5 by sincereagape
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Post by sincereagape on Jan 10, 2011 18:08:59 GMT -5
The Scarface mannequin snickers, the Ventriloquist directs the doll so that the tommy gun is resting on Its shoulder.
It was the mannequin that spoke. It was calling the shots, or so it seemed. The Ventriloquist stood quiet placid, stoic, and serious as he focused on Isley.
"Th'e name's Scarface sweet cheeks, nice place ye' got here. One of a kin' facily' here in Gotham," Scarface whistles, "Gotta be wort' a fortune, and that's on' of the reasons why we're here."
The Ventriloquist had to give the woman credit. She was not frightened or terrified by the sight of Rhino and a middle-aged Ventriloquist holding a hideous mannequin with a machine gun. He was unsure of what was inside the vial she was holding. The profile reported that Isley had survived severe poisoning that would have killed a normal human being. Yet she managed to survive. This was not unheard of in the world, but this would be their first time dealing with a meta-human, unless Batman happened to be one.
"We want information 'bout Richard Grayson. My informan's tell me that ye are 'associated' with the silver-spooned brat in a manne'r of speaking."
This comment was followed by the Ventriloquist speaking in a raspy, anxious filled, soft voice...
"Mis-ter...mist---er Scarface wh---wha---what about??"
Scarface's eyes narrowed, before It suddenly snapped into forward motion so that It would be face to face with the Ventriloquist.
"Ah'! Was gettin' there Dummy! Until' ye interrupted. Now' the next time ye open' yer mouth agai'n ah'll burn my cigar into yer beady little bald head' capiche?!"
"Ye--Yes--Yes Mr. Scarface, I am sorry for in--ter--rupting."
"Now where' was I? Alrig' Richard Grayson, what' do ye know about ''im? And whil' we're here, we'll be takin' some of yer valuables if ye please. Hopefu'lly ye'll provide us with either the information or the money, preferably both.....and if ye can't.........."
That's when the Rhino steps forward, cracking his knuckles, and shooting the lovely Miss Isley a sinister smile.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Jan 10, 2011 21:57:50 GMT -5
The conversation between ventriloquist and dummy is rather perplexing to Pamela. Surely this is a joke of some sort! Still, one doesn't argue with someone holding what looks to be a genuine tommy gun even when that person is not. Perhaps it's safest to play along with that aspect of this encounter - whether the dummy dressed like a gangster is a joke or not, the rest of what is said indicates that they're serious about everything else, at least.
But when they get down to threats against her, Pamela figures that she'd better show her hand by explaining the contents of the vial before these guys do something stupid. "I don't suppose you know what sarin is? Five hundred times more toxic than cyanide, evaporates quickly when in contact with the air or can be absorbed by the skin, lethal in very tiny doses within a minute, and completely harmless to me," she says with a smirk, "And this tube is in no way shatterproof." Overkill? Probably, but she's most certainly not the type to mess around when it comes to her personal safety. And though one might expect that Pamela would have her own custom type of toxin for this sort of situation, why reinvent the wheel?
"So," she continues, "Since I'm likely to 'accidentally' drop this whether you use your goon or your gun, just as you're likely to shoot me if I drop this on purpose, I suggest we make a deal: I'll answer any questions you have about Grayson, and when you're done you leave my property with nothing but those answers. How does that sound to you?" How he got the impression that she's 'associated' with him is a complete mystery to her, as she still hasn't spotted Mugsy. And she knows next to nothing about him that one couldn't find out with a careful look at what's been said of him in the papers, so as much as it makes her cringe on the inside to offer anything at all it would definitely be a deal in her favor if it gets them to leave.
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Last Edit: Jan 11, 2011 13:38:15 GMT -5 by sincereagape
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Post by sincereagape on Jan 11, 2011 7:20:16 GMT -5
The Scarface remains cools as a cat. Simultaneously the mannequin and the Ventriloquist raise their right brows.
"Heh. Ye got some real backbone toots. But..that ain't.."
"She ain't bluffing boss." Rhino stated. When Poison Ivy verbally revealed the contents of the vial, the former linebacker stopped in his tracks. He was calm as well, but the gears were rolling in a different direction then that of Scarface. Isley might have been right. If they shot at her right now, they would not be fast enough to prevent the vial from breaking regardless of the outcome of their aim. Rhino was not about to risk his life on a chance, not hear at least. And he knew Mugsy was thinking the same thing.
Scarface then shot a glare at Rhino.
"She ain't in da pos'ition to neg'ot-iate."
"Bu--But Mr. Scarface, the file!" The Ventriloquist echoed the concerns of Rhino, looking down quickly at the tube of sarin.
Mugsy had been following one of the outer paths within the greenhouse. He could hear the branches rustle despite the wind being kept out of the building. Lowering the tommy gun into a aiming position, Mugsy stopped in his tracks, and focused on the conversation between the Ventriloquist and Isley. The original plan was for Mugsy to sneak behind Isley and then hold her hostage at gun point, hoping a pincer attack of machine guns from the front and behind would rattle the woman. But the woman's allies were in action as well, they had been since the trio entered the greenhouse.
Dropping to one knee, he managed to touch a few branches which suddenly pulled back, like a rabbit being caught in a snare or someone pulling their hand back after touching something hot. This in turn revealed his position.
"Damn!" Mugsy muttered. Dropping his gun to the floor, he began to run for the exit. "Rhino, boss, let's get the hell out of here!"
Rhino turned his head towards the commotion, "I'm with you Mugsy." And began to follow suit. The big man's steps were like mini-tremors. It did not take long for them to subside though, as him and Mugsy had left the green house.
The Ventriloquist was beginning to get nervous. And wanted to leave with Rhino and Mugsy. But the feeling of Scarface's tommy gun underneath his chin prevented him from doing so.
"Ye ain't leaving. Cause her chem-ie-cals don't wo'rk on me." Scarface said removing the safety from his tommy gun.
The Ventriloquist simply nodded, and the placid almost automaton like demeanor returned.
"Not' bad Isley," Scarface began. "Yer sarin neutralized the playin' ground by gettin' rid of my boys. But the Dummy and I 'are still enough to tak' down a broad."
There was a slight pause before Scarface continued.
"Ye dont' wanna mak' an enemy of Scarface. So ah'm afraid that' yer position and yer answer' still ain't good enough. Gimme' wat ye got on Grayson AND wha' other valuable' ye have layin' 'round the mansion."
The sarin did not intimidate the Scarface and after pulling some 'strings' the poison no longer affected the Ventriloquist as well. They were ready to play this proverbial game of chicken. The Scarface and the Ventriloquist lowered their tommy gun towards her. Itchy on the trigger finger. It was the Ventriloquist this time that cracked the sinister smile.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Jan 11, 2011 16:45:21 GMT -5
"I can assure you I'm not lying," Pamela says with some amusement in her tone, "I'd prove it, but it doesn't work on plants and I... well, I could drink it and it still wouldn't hurt me. I'd need a different volunteer."
She startles a little when the movement of one of her plants reveals the third (or depending on how you count, fourth) intruder in the greenhouse, and when she catches a glimpse of the man who was hiding, a small mystery is solved. The guy with the camera from the park! Well, that would explain why they think she could answer questions about Grayson. And they managed to discover who she was and even look at some file about her? Troubling, to say the least, but she can ponder that once she's taken care of this problem. After the two henchmen flee, Pamela turns her attention to the one (or two) that remains.
Now this is interesting! Whenever the Ventriloquist himself speaks, he seems more cowardly and nervous than anyone, but the puppet has convinced him to stay even after her deadly threat. She's beginning to get a better idea about how that relationship (if that's even the right word) works. But, how does she take care of this then?
"True, it wouldn't work on you," she admits, addressing Scarface more directly, "But I'd imagine that it would be a horrible inconvenience to you if the one standing behind you was killed. And it would kill him - it takes nothing less than a nervous system like mine to ignore it.
"Besides," she continues, shifting gears, "If you want answers from me, wouldn't it be better to get them willingly instead of under protest? I'm a very clever liar when I have reason to be. And if you really want pretty things you can get them from anywhere. And you wouldn't want to make an enemy of me either - if I have sarin when you walk in unannounced, what do you suppose I could do to you if I had some time to prepare?"
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Last Edit: Jan 12, 2011 9:37:24 GMT -5 by sincereagape
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Post by sincereagape on Jan 11, 2011 22:22:11 GMT -5
Depending at how you looked at it. Poison Ivy is the type of woman you would be madly in love with one day, and then the next day you’d want to hit with a truck. Her vial of sarin dangled from her finger tips ever so casually. Also, the tone at which she spoke was that of amusement. Thus, her body language suggested that she was not bluffing about the deadliness of her poison.
“If ye’ had time to prepare ah’m pretty sure ye’ would have a chance take out an entire squadron’ of cop-ers,” Scarface admitted with an enlightened nod.
The Ventriloquist leaned forward a bit and whispered something into the mannequin's ear. "You know Mr. Scarface, if we were able to get our hands on that sarin....think about the possibilities!"
"Will ye shut-up! Ah'm talkin' here." Scarface snapped back in response. This caused the Ventriloquist to lower his head, like a child scolded for breaking the cookie jar. Scarface turned back to Isley, "As for da Dummy, he is' ex-pen-da'ble. Ye got that Dummy, expendable, jus' like yer pappy told ye!"
"....don't say that Mr. Scarface, you know it hu-hu-hur.."
"Expendable." Scarface stated once again towards Poison Ivy, never looking back at the Ventriloquist. "Alrigh' toots, we'll play it yer way. We wann' know everythin' 'bout Little Bruce Wayne. H'is weaknesses, vices, dirt-ee little secrets, the skeleton' in his closets, and whether or not he has any' pressure pw-oints."
The Ventriloquist raised his head slightly and said something softly to Scarface. "She could be one of those pressure points."
Scarface raised It's hand to motion for the Ventriloquist to be silent. "Ah' know. Ah'know." The Scarface mannequin cracked a half-smile before it thrust the tommy gun forward in a finger pointing motion towards Isley. "Now toots, remem'ber who has the tommy gun and who 'as the worthless' toxin. Heh. Frankl' Ah'm Thinkin' that's all ye got. And even ' if ye were to drop yer toxin it woul' kill the Dummy, yet it would give' meh enough' time to gun' yer little tooshie down. SO, ye better answer the qwe-sti-ons about Grayson truthfully, capiche?
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Jan 12, 2011 5:07:34 GMT -5
When the puppet declares the puppeteer expendable, Pamela would laugh if he didn't sound so... serious about it. Is it a bluff? It must be! Surely the man has some sense of self-preservation. But she's not going to stop and argue that point too hard while they're caught in a Mexican standoff, especially since he's agreeing with her reasoning.
And she's also too busy trying to figure out what to say now anyway. Clearly he's assuming that she knows far more about Dick Grayson than she actually does, and he probably doesn't want to hear that. Then again, if she lies she'll have to come up with something that sounds plausible, convinces him to leave her alone, and can withstand some scrutiny, which would be a bit difficult. And she doesn't like the odds that they'll have a repeat and more hostile encounter when they discover that it wasn't true.
But first, to buy herself a little thinking time and perhaps some credit, she says, "All I've got? Hardly!" And as she says this every plant on both sides of the row between the Ventriloquist and Pamela seem to spontaneously decide to fold just like the one Mugsy touched, but not any of the other plants in the greenhouse. A completely harmless thing to do and much less difficult than it could be, given that she merely had to give them all a mental nudge to get them to do what they automatically do when touched, but probably a very good demonstration that there's definitely more to her than a vial of sarin. Food for thought, at least - she'd like him to figure out how it happened when she's not close enough to touch even one of them without him seeing.
Giving herself a moment, she decides that telling the truth is the best course of action. If he doesn't believe it then she can always attempt a lie he'll be more happy with. "Well I don't know what your man thought he saw in the park, but let me tell you what he saw: I was walking through the park, and I ran into a man by the name of Clark Kent. He seemed to be quite taken with me - happens all the time. But as I was politely declining his interest, Grayson came over. Apparently Mr. Kent is an old friend of Bruce Wayne's - so old that Grayson had to reintroduce himself. We talked about the last charity cocktail party at Wayne Manor (I was there, Mr. Wayne shook my hand). And then Mr. Kent excused himself, seemed to be in a hurry, and Grayson and I were just saying goodbye when I saw your man taking a photo of us. We joked about it. And that sums up the only time I've ever met Grayson," she says very quickly, not bothering to stop and think about her words. After all, the bulk of it is useless information for pretty much any purpose. As for the rest - well, she's under a bit of duress and she doesn't owe Grayson anything.
"I know you were hoping I was a secret girlfriend, but the most I can say is that he probably remembers my name," she adds, "Bruce too - I tend to leave an impression on people. But if you somehow managed to kidnap me and try to get a ransom they'd probably just contact the police and hope for the best." Hopefully the way the words just roll off of her tongue as if they skipped her brain entirely will lend some ring of honesty to the whole thing. That, or that this lunatic will realize that pretty much anyone could come up with a better lie, and would if they had a gun pointed at them, sarin or not.
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Last Edit: Jan 12, 2011 18:12:31 GMT -5 by sincereagape
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Post by sincereagape on Jan 12, 2011 17:59:33 GMT -5
Scarface remained cool as he awaited Isley's answer with neither anxiety or impatience. He simply wanted to hear what she had to say, and thus far was impressed with the way she had kept her cool and not turned a bad situation into a worse one for her.
Before the answer came he and the Ventriloquist heard a rustle behind them. The vegetation and plants began to cast shadows over the pair and the breeze from their movements sounded like haunting whispers.
"Wha---aat...Wha----aaat. Was that?" The Ventriloquist asked, shaking his head from east to west with a wide eyed look, trying to find a single enemy.
"It's ei'ther yer imagina'tion, or some'thing she's doin'" Scarface responded, "Ah'd put money on da ladder."
Scarface listened to her response. She was either telling the truth or acting out some sort of version of the damsel in distress. Part of him thought that this was the first time she had ever had a gun pointed at her, at least by someone with any sort of skill with it, and the other part said she was trying to sucker him into lowering his guard. In the end...and with respect..... he decided to believe her.
Scarface lowered his tommy-gun, pointing it to the ground so it would not be aiming at her. "Usin' mah keen powers of empa--empa--emp-awhachamacallit?"
"Emp-ath-ie, Mister Scarface."
"DON'T YE DARE IN'TER'UPT ME!" Scarface shouted just before giving the Ventriloquist a headbutt.
"Owe!! Ye---ye--yes Sir." The Ventriloquist stuttered, as he lowered his head and began to rub his temple in pain.
"Stupid Dummy' Now where' was I? Ah' yes. I believe ye Isley." Scarface stated. "Ye'd gain nothin' by lyin' to us, and if ye wanted to save yer own skin', ye would have droppe' yer sarin. Beside' ah' respect someone 'who tells da truth."
Despite all of Scarface's abrasiveness, anger, and overall hostility --- the personality thought like a criminal genius as compared to a thug. There was no social derangement that would hinder the analytical portion of his thinking. He played all of the angles, plotted and planned with efficiency, and when the time came he listened.
"She's lyin' Mister Scarface!" the Ventriloquist said quickly and with a soft voice that somehow projected.
"Heh. No she' ain't Dummy. Now' let me do the think'in. And here is what Ah'm thinkin' Isley. One. Yer a socialite, one who possess' influential talent' if ye can draw de attention of Wayne, Grayson, and the journalist Clark Kent. Two. It don' take a rocket scientist to figure out ye ain't like one of dem regular dummies. A new player. A new 'chess piece on de board. Three yer a new come' with biological knowled'ge and some sort' of personal meta-human like power.
Scarface was careful not to re-mention or elaborate on the file they had stolen from Wayne Tech.
"Now here is wat ah'm pro-posin'. How 'bout formin' an alliance with us? Betwee' yer talents, and my man power, we could' help each' other every now an' then....especially against the Batman, Bat-gurl, and dem dirty cops."
"Nnnnnno--Nnnnoooo. Nnooooo. You're making a mistake Scarface!" The Ventriloquist replied in earnest...he then whispered "She's a woman. She can't be trusted."
"Will ye stop bein' paranoid for just one moment, and let her answer!"
The Ventriloquist took a deep breath and nodded. However, his deep breath started to become hyperventilations. The Ventriloquist then put his left hand into his jacket pocket. That left hand began to shake.
"Now sweetheart, what's it gonna be?"
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Jan 13, 2011 0:54:57 GMT -5
This is indeed the first time that Pamela has ever had a gun pointed at her, but leave it to the insane to take insane risks. But her goal in that demonstration was merely to establish that whatever information they'd managed to obtain on her would be incomplete. Some of her uniqueness would be a matter of public or private record. She has no idea how far the paper trail that records her miraculous survival extends, and her skill with botanical hybrids and toxicology is officially recognized in degree form. However, nobody but her knows about the pheromones, her underdeveloped but still present ability to manipulate plants, and - as far as she's aware - that's she's the one behind the unusual plants that have been cropping up here and there around Gotham. Still, she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't nervous about how her story would be taken. Fortunately, it seems that the more dominant personality believes her, which is good enough, even though the exchanges between the two of them still seem odd, to say the least.
But what the puppet says next brings a surprised look to her face. "Interesting idea..." she says, before taking a long pause to ponder that one, absentmindedly fiddling with the vial of sarin in ways that would be extremely dangerous if her occupation didn't make her so used to handling such small bits of lab equipment. But after a long moment she begins to verbalize some of her thoughts, "I've never run into any trouble with the law, but that doesn't mean I won't - why, I can't say. And it's true that both of us have skills and resources the other lacks..." But her main hesitation is that she's a good person at heart - she wouldn't dream of breaking the law if any of her legal attempts to complete her goals weren't unacceptably slow. So to assist an obvious criminal? Then again, she's already gotten her hands dirty in her fight to save the planet, so what's a little more? And what can this guy do that could possibly outweigh the benefit of her own actions?
Still, it's probably best to set some boundaries. "I have some limits. My goals are very different from yours, so I won't be inclined to grant your every request. This, for example..." She takes the vial of sarin fully into the palm of her hand for the first time this entire conversation. "...is strictly for my own self-defense. But I imagine you wouldn't do everything I could ask of you either. Still, it would be to both of our benefit if we had a certain understanding: you do what I want when it pleases you, I do what you want when it pleases me, and we stay out of each other's way? I wouldn't feel inclined to report this little incident to the police, for example, even though I've done nothing wrong - so long as we don't have to meet like this again." She gives a nod toward the tommy gun, though she imagines that her front gate has also suffered some damage as well - seems more likely than that big guy who was here earlier jumping the fence, anyway. And in any event it's not fun to have your place invaded by a bunch of men with guns.
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Last Edit: Jan 13, 2011 22:06:14 GMT -5 by sincereagape
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Post by sincereagape on Jan 13, 2011 20:59:26 GMT -5
At first, Scarface did not like what he was hearing from the woman standing in front of him. SHE was dictating too many of the terms to this treaty. However, as she continued and as he had time to process her demands, the Scarface began to slowly agree to what she was saying. Scarface enjoyed being the puppet master. He enjoyed being the King who pushed the pawns across the chessboard. He used subterfuge, manipulation, influence, bribes, politics, and boons to ensure his allies were working towards his goals. Unlike the Riddler who demanded the attention, had to be noticed, and thus had to let everyone know HE was in charge, the Scarface preferred to be behind the scenes.
Scarface could have opened fire upon Pamela Isley with deadly aim this evening, but Poison Ivy was too much of an unknown. He was still unsure how the plants surrounding them seemed to motion at her command. Was it some sort of special effect? Was it an illusion? Or was it something else….
You can only underestimate an opponent once. You can only contract Poison Ivy once, before you realize how to avoid it. Meaning this was her one time to catch him by surprise. The next time he would be prepared. Over the next week, Scarface was planning to have her followed in order to determine the strengths, weaknesses, and vices of this new found alley. What is her cause? What is her passion? This would also give him valuable information in case he decided to break their alliance in the future.
He would have Mouse tail her for the coming week. He was the only one she had not seen.
He knew this alliance would not last, and outside the story she told about Grayson, the only concrete fact that Scarface would leave this evening with….is that Pamela Isley has potential to be a SERIOUS player in Gotham City. Whether it be as a socialite, a botanist, or even a criminal..the woman had the gifts, charisma, and discernment needed to succeed. Therefore, part of Scarface saw this potential alliance as an investment in a rising stock or signing a talent laden – prospect pitcher to eventually play for your team.
Scarface showed a smug grin. The Dummy was going bonkers whenever Isley twisted the vial of sarin in between her fingers. The Ventriloquist’s eyes kept following the vial wherever it went, almost as if his eyes were following a pendulum. Scarface noticed the left hand of the Ventriloquist twitching as it reached into his jacket pocket and begin to finger a small revolver. If only the Dummy had the self-respect to speak up for himself…..Scarface thought.
“Don’t even t’ink ‘bout doing something stupid Dummy,” Scarface muttered. Scarface then turned his attention to Isley “Alright’ Isley, Ah’ accept yer offer. The name’s Scarface. The big one is Rhino, and the one who took yer mug shot is Mugsy. The one behin’ me is no-one of consequence., but if ye MUST know. People at the Casino call ‘im the Ventriloquist.”
“You can’t tru-u-u-st her Mr. Scarface. We should get rid of her now before it is to la-la-la” The pleading of the Ventriloquist was interrupted by Scarface pointing the tommy gun underneath his chin.
“Ye can’ find us at the Lucky 7 Casino in Gotham City: East, just ask for either Rhino or Mugsy, and ye’ll be accommodated. Sound good to you? Good. C'mon Dummy. We're leaving.”
Scarface dropped the tommy gun back across It's lap. The Ventriloquist had stopped shaking. Behind the beady framed spectacles, the Ventriloquist stared at Isley for a few moments, and narrowed his eyes.
"Wat-cha waiting for?"
The Ventriloquist listened to Scarface by leaving the Green House at a very fast pace. The Ventriloquist made sure to avoid touching any plants.
"By the way toots, we'll have Rhino bend' yer fence back into position!"
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Scarface and the Ventriloquist made their way back to the limo. Scarface berated Rhino and Mugsy for leaving the Green House early. The gang then got into the limo..
"Yo Mouse, ah' have a job for ye."
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Jan 13, 2011 23:53:36 GMT -5
Well, Pamela certainly can't have him be the one to set the terms. She may be on the chessboard, but she's a queen and not a pawn; a very powerful piece that requires expert handling. And while she'd never trust a man in any normal situation, she can trust that this one will be self-serving enough to honor their agreement as long as it serves his purposes - and of course she's going to be keeping a sharp eye out for that moment when it doesn't. A moment she'll prepare for carefully; if she's going to be dealing with the likes of this then she's going to have to get a bit more... creative than a simple vial of sarin and an unexplained trick. And between her unique biology and expertise in all things green or deadly she has a plethora of options to work with.
But one thing is for certain: Mouse will have his work cut out for him. Not that she'd be that difficult to follow, but understanding what her actions mean can be very, very difficult. Especially since she spends her every free moment manipulating chemicals (both biologically based and not) in her greenhouse lab, and that is such specialized work that one would have to have her expertise to understand what's she doing outside of the 1% of the time she's using or testing what she's created.
"It's been a pleasure meeting you," she comments dryly as the puppet gives his name and those of his associates - each of them is neatly filed away. "And please, call me Poison Ivy," she adds. Because while he apparently already knows who she is, a pseudonym is still useful - he ought to know more than anyone that it makes things more difficult for anyone who shouldn't know to figure out who you're talking about, and it would do her no good to have a bunch of criminals throwing around her name if they get infiltrated by the authorities. She nods when he explains how to contact him, and she comments, "You know where to find me, only... ring the bell next time." She'll definitely be inspecting Rhino's handiwork on her gate in the morning!
However, when the two leave, she's content to go back to what she was doing - after slipping the vial of sarin down her shirt. She won't dare put it down until she's absolutely certain they've left and there's no safer place for it until then. Now, what was she doing? Ah, yes! Readjusting her pheromones, which means mixing up a complicated batch of hormones and viral vectors to splice her DNA. She'll be able to test the new balance at that party tonight... And she must check up on those seeds... And she got this crazy idea involving ferns...
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Jan 17, 2011 4:17:30 GMT -5
Findings after a week of observing Pamela's movements:
- Every couple of mornings or so she took a short drive to the local organic food store and got a bag of fruits and veggies, but other than that she never left her property before well into the afternoon.
- Starting in the afternoon and lasting until late into the night seems to be her social hours - only once (a Sunday) she didn't go out. Some nights she went out multiple times, as follows:
Day 1 - In the evening she drove to a normally private club that was hosting some sort of large event: a look through that day's paper would indicate that it was a charity auction for a famine relief fund. When she came out she was talking to a young man, who walked her to her car, lingered there talking to her for awhile, and then opened her door for her before she left.
Day 2 - In the early afternoon she was picked up by a young man driving a Mercedes, who took her to the arboretum on what looked like a date, lasting about an hour. Later that evening three other young women arrived in a convertible, and took Pamela to an apparent ladies' night out at a local club. They walked past the line and were admitted after Pamela had a brief word with the big guy at the door. When they came back out the young woman who had driven them there looked a bit tipsy, but Pamela drove them all home. The young woman came and retrieved the car the next morning.
Day 3 - Didn't go out.
Day 4 - In the early afternoon a young man came a picked her up, and they went to a movie theater. To judge by how long they were there, they walked out early, but they still looked happy to be together as he dropped her off at her home. A few hours later she left again, this time walking just a few houses over to attend some sort of small but formal party, to judge by the number and dress of the people arriving. She was only one of two to arrive alone, the other was a young gentleman who walked outside with her - she gave him a piece of paper before walking back home. That evening, very late, she took a drive through north Gotham, slowing halfway through and throwing something out of the car window - something powdery that was easily blown away by the wind.
Day 5 - Later in the evening a very formally dressed man arrived and took Pamela, dressed in a green ballgown, to one of the bigger mansions for what looked to be a very large formal party.
Day 6 - Very early in the afternoon the young man who walked her to her car on Day 1 arrived and picked her up, taking her to the botanical gardens for about an hour before taking her back home. A couple of hours later, another young man came who took her out to eat in a very expensive restaurant.
Day 7 - Four young women (two of which were repeats from day 2) arrived at her house in the middle of the afternoon, and left with Pamela in the evening looking a bit more made over. They went into a private club and didn't leave until the wee hours of the morning - once again, Pamela drove them home.
- Other than the above, she never left her property.
- On Day 5, 2 large packages were delivered to her.
- On Day 7 the newspapers would have a story about unidentified ferns having appeared growing in mortar between the bricks on a house next to where she released the powder on Day 4, and nowhere else. The house belongs to the head of Gotham's Environment Department, and the entire outer surface of the structure is threatened because the fast-growing ferns are growing back as fast as they are removed and their roots are quickly griding the mortar to dust.
(OOC Note: Due to laziness on my part, I'm not going to bother naming the people and places mentioned. If it later becomes convenient, feel free to make up those details. Sufficeth to say, unless otherwise stated each mentioned person isn't the same one as any other, and these are all at least somewhat wealthy people or powerful people she's interacting with - she doesn't waste time making friends with unimportant people.)
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Post by sincereagape on Jan 17, 2011 19:47:02 GMT -5
((A back room within the Lucky 7 Club.))
"Hot Damn. How 'many 'oyfriend does this dame have?" Scarface' chewed on a fresh cuban cigar while responding to Mouse's report. Arnold Wesker stood with Scarface as usual, his expression disgruntled as they were talking about Poison Ivy. It was known among the gang what the 'Dummy' thought of Isley.
"It looks like Ms. Isley views men like kleenex tissues. Strong. Durable and disposable." Mugsy commented shuffling a deck of cards.
Scarface and the Ventriloquist studied the report. Wesker had written down all of the information Mouse had provided them verbally. There was no doubt in the Ventriloquist's mind that if they were to conduct research on the men and women Isley had spent time with during the week, there would be some sort of common theme or connection between a few of them. She was obviously a high class socialite, and if they were able to either find a pressure point they could lean on or threaten her once again into working for them, they would be able to capitalize on her influence.
The events of day four is the most intriguing part of this report. It appears as if she was working against the head of the Gotham Environmental Department. The Ventriloquist had knowledge that the head of the GED had not fought hard for the preservation of the wildlife and natural habitat in some parts of the city. The pollution levels inside of the city had also risen to records highs under his watch.
She's an environmentalist. This news story also coincides with some of the other strange 'plant' like events that has been happening in the city over the past month. That's her game.
"Boy's I got me an idea. We're goin' to put a little heat onto Poison Isley, just to let her know who's in charge...and this is how we're going to do it.."
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