Talia al Ghul
I can tell a lot about a person by what they choose to see in me.
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Post by Talia al Ghul on Jan 16, 2016 14:02:05 GMT -5
Not moving, Talia blinks once before responding. Now it seems that Dr. Isley may be a bit more receptive. Then again, she could entirely be reading her incorrectly.
"No. I was here to give you a gift. A gift of which as soon as it left my hand, was yours to do with as you see fit. Yes, it comes from my family's land. No, I don't really care who does what with it. Those assumptions and accusations are left to my Father's discretion." Shrugging her shoulders, it is a half-second's debate in her mind if she should honestly respond to the woman as to why she was present-lately, sadly, there at all.
"Therefore I will not pursue such a conversation. Botany is not my scientific specialty, sadly. I do hold degrees in other biological areas. Yet not in plant biologicals. I should apologize for arriving late, and interrupting your prior passionate conversation. It seemed that he ended up with more of an argument, rather than a conversation. My own participatory notes seem to not matter, considering how the scene was set. Perhaps had we met under less harrowing circumstances, perhaps we could have sought out more common ground, other than my Father tends to be a bungling megalomaniac with less than savory communication skills. I am guessing he did not announce himself properly, or even ask to be invited in."
While there should be more emotion shown toward her Father, and his actions, it's merely dismissed with a secondhand shrug of her shoulders. She's been raised by the man, and is quite aware of his lackluster skills; especially with women when he is trying to convince, well, really anyone, to work with him. Or to reclaim something he deems is the al Ghul family's and no one else's. While he can be a beautiful mastermind in some areas, he's woefully deficient in other's. Communication is not a strong suit. A man from the ages, he is rather fond of utilizing accusations and threats to get what he wants. He seems to still not realize that women have gained the upperhand, and -gasp- are even allowed to work outside the home, wear something other than a skirt, and are rather proficient in how they handle their own affairs. In addition to taking advantage of the fact he is nearly invincible in being able to be eradicated.
Then again, if she were questioned directly on how she found the woman, it wouldn't be too hard to tell Ivy the particulars. When you've been trained in the harsh climate of a desert to track people, it's a much easier task when there is actual vegetation and something other than dust to follow.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Jan 21, 2016 0:47:18 GMT -5
When the fact that the other woman isn't here about the flowers is confirmed, Poison Ivy's lips instantly purse in annoyance - in fact she's almost angry about that. But as she fails to immediately show the woman to the door for not wanting to discuss the topic she's obviously the most interested in, she's obviously not unwilling to discuss something else.
"Then what is the purpose of this gift?" she asks with more impatience than curiosity, as if somewhat annoyed that she actually had to ask the question instead of receiving that bit of information as a part of the explanation. But, fortunately, just because she's in a bad mood doesn't mean that she's unable or unwilling to listen.
Though what she's hearing doesn't do much to help her mood. It's not the content of what's being said, really - it's the emptiness. So many words, so few meaningful ones. Not that Poison Ivy doesn't consider herself to be well practiced in the fine art of speaking properly, formally, and politely - all while manipulating her audience to pay particular attention to what she's saying, of course - but she's hardly in the mood to hear someone ramble on about nothing.
"Neither did you," she points out when the other woman finally stops speaking, "Of course, neither did I, but I'd imagine that you wouldn't have come here if you didn't know who I am. What do you want of me?" Then again, this woman must not know very much about her or she would probably conduct herself in a more tolerable fashion. Just when she thought that everyone in Gotham knew better than to try her patience, these two show up here of all places...
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Talia al Ghul
I can tell a lot about a person by what they choose to see in me.
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Post by Talia al Ghul on Feb 2, 2016 5:11:02 GMT -5
Ivy is certainly a woman of means and persuasions. Considering her particular gifts, it certainly does serve to bolster the redhead's ability to get what she wants, when she wants. And considering she's merely irritated the Botanist, Talia perhaps should consider herself lucky she is not deeply entrenched in the fiery anger of a woman who controls the green of the earth in a mere thought or breath.
Then again, perhaps the riddle of who ruled who; man or plant perhaps could be answered. Not for the moment, Talia was sure of that. Perhaps at some other meeting. One where she would, or even could be more honest with the woman. Playing the dutiful daughter following a madman sometimes didn't play well in her favor. Then again, those that did see beyond the facade rarely gave up their own hand in showing such intelligence. It really was a pity.
"What purpose is a gift other than pure joy moving from one to another? For me to think without fully knowing you, and only hearing my Father bicker for days, weeks, months, about a woman that can not only enrage him, but inspire him to see her without notice? Perhaps I am in the wrong, and surely, you have convinced me wholly of that, but as one woman overlooked more often than not, and under-appreciated for her own gifts, I sought to right a wrong. There are more than just yourself looking to eradicate and manipulate such a specimen as I have gifted you. Perhaps if someone else is successful in fulfilling such a goal, then you would be one, if not the only one to be able to give life to a treasured family heirloom." It is the truth. Not many would understand the fullness of such a gift bestowed not by the Demon himself, but the Heir-not a man, but the Daughter. While Talia has not lived as many years or had been reanimated as many times as her Father, she retained a certain sane mentality her forebear did not.
And still, she could be entirely wrong about Poison Ivy, nee Doctor Pamela Isley. She was certainly a passionate woman. Her emotions were like stormclouds across her face, each one beautifully etched into the verdant cheeks and eyes of Ivy. Letting a silence settle between them, Talia offers one more possibility between them.
In the desert, the exact opposite of what this woman clearly represented, when parties travelling distances in the wastelands met, there was usually an exchange of somesort, especially if the two parties had crossed paths before. And if not, a token or cherished bit of information was offered in the promise of such a new beginning for both.
"Forgive me, as I was raised with few friends and many lessons. I had thought perhaps with a gift of something I cherish, could come a friendship," she explains softly.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Feb 14, 2016 0:18:16 GMT -5
Listening as the other woman explains herself, Poison Ivy seems to be thoughtful for a moment, but then finally she laughs. "There are many purposes for gifts - joy being only a minor footnote among them," she comments, "In fact, if that's the only reason for a gift it's almost always a wasted opportunity."
Her amusement fades and she seems thoughtful for a moment before she abruptly steps away from the couch she was leaning against. "Wait here, I wish to show you something," she says, turning around and heading into the large back room that takes up fully half of the building they're in. And the amount of warmth, moisture, and thick floral scent that leaks through the doorway during the few seconds the door is open while she travels through it makes it not very difficult at all to guess at the purpose of the room. She's gone for less than a minute, as she merely needs to pick up something that isn't far from the door.
When she returns, she carrying a small, sealed terrarium. Though it's only large enough to house the single plant within it, it appears to be quite robust in construction and there appears to be some sort of electronic device with buttons attached to it - perhaps to monitor the conditions inside of the container? The buttons are unlabeled so it's difficult to determine exactly what it does. Though what probably catches more attention than the container is its contents - inside is the very flower that Poison Ivy took from the mountain. Not only has she managed to keep it alive, it appears to be thriving - it's gone from being a perfectly typical example of the species to being the largest and most brilliantly colored specimen that even the Daughter of the Demon has ever seen. And this in spite of the fact that nobody has ever managed to cultivate it before - its continued existence now proves the botanical skill of the woman carrying it.
"This little one is incredibly particular," she comments with an obvious fondness in her voice while speaking of the plant, simply holding the terrarium in her arms after she steps back into the room rather than placing it anywhere, "But as you can see, I know how to provide what it needs even outside of the mountain. Still, it's difficult for even me to keep it happy - it doesn't belong here." Her voice is not touched by a certain distant concern - there are a lot of things for her to worry about when it comes to not just this single plant but the entire species it's a member of, even if there's little to worry about at this particular moment.
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Talia al Ghul
I can tell a lot about a person by what they choose to see in me.
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Post by Talia al Ghul on Mar 21, 2016 9:20:41 GMT -5
Talia herself joins in the laughter, because it's hard to turn down a good bought of joy. "Not all gifts are given as such. But considering you are not only a skilled botanist, you clearly understand how important this mere flower is to my family." And Ivy does, as she leaves the larger main room to excuse herself for a mere minute to come back with what Talia can only surmise is one of her experiments. And not surprisingly that is what the redhead emerges with. A brilliantly beautiful 'blue poppy' as it is commonly called.
It's such a rare sight for her, that she can't help but notice the stinging in her eyes she can not attribute to allergies. She's never been allergic to a flower or any part of foliage in her life. But her time in Gotham has not been easy this visit. She yearns at her deepest for open space with less people, in a place where she can think and her thoughts are carried away on an arid breeze. For her emotion was told it was a crutch, something the lesser did. To show your emotion would be to undermine every logical, rational choice she had ever made in her life. As a child, she was quiet, in the shadows, ever learning and yet speaking little. Her joy was kept to herself, her fears, her wants, her needs. It was all expressed in time, and for purpose and never a second sooner. So for this mere flower to evoke such a response from her, Daughter of the Demon, fabled this or that, feared by many.
It seems that even her late entrance, her chance at fixing the poor impression her father has made has now failed. Who honestly questions the reasoning behind a gift? It must be a rather damaged individual who questions something given. Unless they are, or have been raised by someone thinking they are an immortal, someone who's sole purpose is to 'fix' humanity. And yet, standing before her in beautifully understated glory is such a damaged, yet exquisite specimen. Not the poppy, a delicate strain known to the Himalayan landscapes as thriving nowhere else, but the woman who has not only strove to cultivate beautiful flora, yet transferred her passions to herself as she has now manifested the delicate chlorophyll hues on her own skin, and has already displayed a not so subtle mastery of communing with every living, breathing green creature within-well, who knows who far her influence reaches over the world's greener, gentler inhabitants.
"That is breathtaking," is all she is able to muster, her arm extending, her hand poised to touch the flower. Yet it is barred with the glass from her touch, ever a metaphor for her life. So close, and yet, so far, far away.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Mar 24, 2016 19:50:41 GMT -5
When the other woman reaches for the plant, there's more than a little bit of tension around Poison Ivy - to say that she's protective of this plant is putting it mildly. But when she sees that the only intention is to touch the glass, she relaxes somewhat - she can allow that much. "Yes, I'm rather taken by it, I must admit," she says, her voice more quiet than it was before, "One of Mother Nature's great works." Her eyes become somewhat unfocused as she thinks of things not present. "You should see its genome - it's equally as beautiful as it appears, if not more so. I will do whatever I have to in order to protect it. Such a plant does not deserve the abuse it has suffered," she states, and this time instead of giving Talia an accusatory glance as she speaks she seems to be making the statement generally. Her eyes now shift toward the seeds that were offered - an offer not yet accepted, in spite of her fondness for the species. "Those little ones can't find a safe haven in my hands - I don't have the means to cultivate so many this way. At least, not without attracting far too much attention to myself because of the needed equipment. And even without that problem I'm hunted - I can't even guarantee the safety of this one. These flowers need their mountain to be their safe haven. That is why I must insist that it becomes one," she says with a frown, adding, "Though if you wish I can find a safe place to store them until such time as their safety on the mountain is assured, and then sow them where they would grow best." That would give the plant a slight boost to its recovery, but really the more important thing is to make sure that the plants already growing are left alone - then nature can take its course. A position that she doesn't feel to be extreme. After all, though the chemicals that the flower produces are very interesting, none of them has been used for anything but the most pointless of purposes - at least in Poison Ivy's opinion. Nothing that the doesn't believe that anyone couldn't easily live without. Well, except perhaps for Crane - the man is not exactly right in the head, after all, but she has an easy fix for that already in the works. Like any man he isn't that difficult to satisfy, though a large part of her is already wondering why she doesn't just kill him.
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Talia al Ghul
I can tell a lot about a person by what they choose to see in me.
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Post by Talia al Ghul on Apr 7, 2016 14:17:55 GMT -5
She lets her fingertips rest against the cool barrier for a moment longer. It's such a tug on her heart, something she does possess after years and years of urban legend that seem to paint her as something of a hungry savage bent on world domination at her Father's heel. Some is true, because there is always truth where there is some sort of legend, but it's not always 100 percent correct, sadly.
Nodding to Ivy, fingers withdraw slowly. She misses the mountains. The grass. The desert. It's all one and the same for her; both drastic landscapes molding who she was, and is. And the famed blue poppy, that is one thing she has more knowledge than most on. Even if her father has supplied the Scarecrow with it's essence, distilled, she is still so much more familiar with it's effects than most. Ingested, inhaled, applied topically. Not only in aerosol form. Before there was such science and modern magic, there were those that went without their mechanical toys.
She learned in the dirt.
"I'm grateful you are one of the few in humanity that can even see it's great beauty. And it's worth. And you're a woman. You will hopefully not be ignored in your field for your gender. And thank you, for your pledge to keeping it safe. You're more than correct in stating that to home, or even encourage it's growth anywhere but in it's native climate is guaranteed failure. The fact you have been able to nurture one to this point is a miracle. And considering your own chemical makeup, as well as your innate skill, I have no doubt the seeds will be in safekeeping until if, and when you are able to find a near replicatable habitat for it. I cannot guarantee that those mountainsides will forever be safe. Nor do I want to. But knowing that you posses something, in case of annihilation gives me great peace. If you can understand that sort of whimsical feeling from a woman such as myself."
If she cannot, well, Talia can't help but fault the woman. Her own Father certainly set the mood for the whole meeting, and perfectly bungled it as well. Not something she'd care to reverse in such short notice, or with a late entrance. It was like swimming uphill. Could it be done? Yes. Did it make sense? No. If a waterfall was included, was more sense had? Still, not quite. But if there were a few more details such as a framework, or a rope, or something unseen, but perhaps tactile?
Maybe. It was still like swimming uphill, with a current.
And yet, Talia was a fighter. Rarely was it hand to hand or even seen publically, considering she would rather move in the shadows. Unseen. So much more could be done, or a beautiful sequence started with just a whisper, or an encouragement.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Apr 13, 2016 21:29:50 GMT -5
It is now, finally, that Poison Ivy feels that perhaps she and this woman have some sort of a mutual understanding. Or at least the beginning of one - if nothing else they can agree on the value of the plant in her hands. As detached as she can be from most of humanity, she appreciates it when someone shows that they too care about something so important - precious few do.
But there are many differences between them still, and she's quick to express some of them the moment the other woman finishes speaking. "I do not waste my time hoping that my work will be recognized - it probably won't be because men are all idiots," she says, her eyes lowering a bit. But then she shrugs her shoulders and says, "But why should I care whether it is or it isn't? Whether my reputation precedes me or not, if someone attempts to ignore me or stand in my way then they will find themselves unable to do so for very long. I've not always been as I am now - the day I realized that life rarely goes your way unless you force it to is the day everything changed."
And as if to demonstrate that point, she adds, "I will keep these seeds safe until they can be planted on their mountain in safety. And if you cannot guarantee the safety of their kind there, then I will - by whatever means necessary." She's not going to accept anything less than what she wants - if the woman she's talking to can't help her then she will do everything herself. Either way, it will happen exactly how she wants it to.
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