chlorophylliac | 27 ❦ Video

27 ❦ Video

[Ivy appears in the video feed surrounded by plants. It’s all a little more sparse than it looks like it could be; this is because the Admiral kindly confiscated anything that could be considered dangerous. Thanks for that, guy. She looks like she’s been in a fight recently but her deep green skin doesn’t really show much bruising.]

...This again.

[She touches her fingers lightly to the bridge of her nose. The frustration is washed out of her voice; she just sounds tired. She’s struggling to reconcile her time on the Barge with two days spent at home that as good as eliminated those memories; it’s wearisome.]

I left in August, it appears I’ve returned in February, so the question now is whether my absence can be measured in months or years. I’m dying to know.

[You wouldn’t be able to tell.]

For those of you who recognize me, I’m pleased to say that my memory is intact. [Largely. Not as much as she’d like.] For those who don’t, my name is Poison Ivy. I have previously been an Inmate here for almost two years, so rolling out the welcome wagon isn’t necessary. I would like to know whether the greenhouse has finally fallen into Warden management, and if so, whose.

[Friends Filter]

['Friends' is too strong a word in most cases but those remaining on this filter are: Morgana, Zane, Iris, Arthas and Barbara.]

If you can see this message I would appreciate a response. Thank you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[....that certainly didn't take long.

Ivy appears at the door looking tired, bruised and unhappy. The latter is typical; the first two are attributable to a brief stint in Arkham followed by a brawl with Catwoman, Batman and (later) the good men and women of the Gotham City Police Department.

The unhappiness, though, is slightly alleviated when she sees Morgana. The last time they spoke, she was a child. The source of their sourness was two months gone, even then, and now? It's been a testing few days, and something in her has shifted. She's not so apt to simply turn away in disgust, or - not that she'd ever call it this - in fear.

She steps back to let her in. Her cabin has been stripped of half its plants; the laboratory largely empty of equipment. She hates being here but she's not ready to step outside and review the limits of her rediscovered captivity, not just yet.]

When did you graduate?

[The question doesn't startle her, not exactly. It takes her aback a little, it makes her wary but not entirely on guard. She's already done this with Roderick: she doesn't want to wander the same path with Ivy.

Stepping inside, Morgana notes that there have been changes against her hazy memory of last being here, but her attention slides back to Ivy. She doesn't like those bruises.]

I'm not sure. I went home for a time, first. It's been some months, at least.

[The wariness comes back, and she considers her first instinct - to harden her voice, to be aggressive, to ask if that will be a problem or if she should have bothered to come here at all - but decides against it.]

May I? [She gestures at the bruises.]

[The question wasn't, Ivy's surprised to find, an accusation. Part of her is angry, the part of her that would tear this place into pieces if she could, the part that utterly resented her captivity and couldn't bear the thought of being consumed and reformed by a corrupt, ineffective system.

But she's been gone for a year. Longer. And Morgana looks healthier and happier than she's ever seen her. She's angry, but it's difficult to use Morgana as an outlet for that anger.]

You may. Thank you.

[Morgana's attention settles on the bruises, and her eyes shift color, gray-green vanishing under gold. Ruptured capillaries stick back together, captive blood cells pulled back to their proper place. It's easier now than it used to be: she's earned a great deal about how bodies work.

When it's done, the color fades from her irises and she meets Ivy's again.]

What happened? You went home?

[Ivy was there for her when she struggled with the same: she's glad bruises are the worst of it, at least on the physical side.]

[Ivy watches her, at once impressed and deeply envious. She's already felt out the limitations of her own powers; eventually she'll have to test her pheromones and toxicity.]

Briefly - less than a week. It was...

[She frowns, searching out the word.]

Cathartic.

[She can imagine how unsettling it was, to spend so little time away, only to find so much time has passed. And it has been so much time: so many things have happened, so many people have come and gone that Morgana can't imagine catching her up. And maybe it's better to start fresh, all things considered.]

Cathartic. [Her mouth twists a little; she knows what she'd have considered cathartic, a year ago.]

Who was on the receiving end of that catharsis?

[The question gives her pause. Several people were on the receiving end of her anger. She could mention Harley, Selina, Batman - Wayne, she realises in a shock to her memory - but ultimately she gives the truest answer.]

I was.

[Morgana reaches out to her, a hand on her arm. She has never been afraid of Ivy's toxicity, though that was likely a combination in her own deathless pride and their friendship.

Kindness like this, compassion, it's coming more easily to her these days than it used to.]

I'm sorry. [That she's back, that Morgana is glad that she is. She hopes Ivy won't hold that against her, and doesn't know how to risk finding out.]

[Ivy instinctively dials back the venom in her skin, even though she has little knowledge of how much harm it might do. It doesn't take thought, really - in the same way that it would no thought to curl one's hand around that of a friend, when they meet.]

So am I.

[Walking away from Selina - from Harley - she'd felt something like calm and peace for the first time in years. She felt like she could have been, if not happy, then at least content. But obviously the Admiral believes her debts yet unpaid, and here she is.]

I'd like to ask a question about your graduation.

[And she wants to give her the option to say that she doesn't want to discuss it, given that just the mention of it threw up her defenses only a few moments ago.]

[She considers it. Taking the out would be easy, and she trusts Ivy enough to believe it would be honored, at least for a while. Her hand slips back to her side, and she draws breath for an answer, hesitating for. Long moment before releasing it with a nod.]

What is it?

[It's a simple question with what could be a simple answer, or an impossibly complex one, or one she can't articulate:]

What changed?

[It's not a surprise, but Morgana has no answer, at least not immediately. She takes a breath, looking around Ivy's cabin like she'll find an answer there. It was so many things - it was so much time spent here, and so much time wasted.

Eventually, she shakes her head and shrugs. That's when the answer comes to her.]

I remembered a time I didn't hate my brother. I realized - I don't need to be a conqueror to change Camelot. I don't want to be that much like my father.

[Ivy is surprised that the answer satisfies her. Mostly. Part of her wants to argue - you're wrong, that's precisely what you need, and if it wasn't you wouldn't still be here seeking help from a higher power - but honestly? It takes a lot of strength to acknowledge how heavily you can be influenced by the men you hate.

Ivy is self-aware enough to see that in herself in some aspects; she's blind to it in other, larger ways.]

Why did you stay?

Edited 2015-02-23 21:24 (UTC)

I asked him to send me back to that time. I didn't think how hard it would be. I spent so many years fighting people who used to be my friends, and I didn't...I couldn't treat them that way. I had different goals, but I still didn't trust them not to betray me.

[She was still alone. She's never done well, alone.]

When I realized that I'd made mistakes-- [She smiles grimly, ruefully, because she's not entirely sorry about this part,] --that if I spent another second in conversation with Uther, I'd kill him - I called for the Admiral.

[From her recollection of what Morgana's told her about her father, Ivy does not understand at all why killing him would represent anything but a public service. But if that's not the life Morgana wants to live, then -- well, she's a fool, but at least she's broken the cycle of the previous behaviour that destroyed her. She can rebuild from there.]

You have a deal with him?

[Morgana would see it as the same, but Arthur would not. He'd never forgive her, and if she hid it, he'd never recover. If he's truly to be the greatest king Albion has ever known, she can't destroy him before he even takes the throne.

She nods, though it begins hesitantly.]

I won't be a puppet for my fate anymore. And I won't go back until I know it's my choices alone that shape my future.

Good choice.

[There's a lot more she wants to say, that she wants to ask - Do you pity me? Do you think less of me now, for having failed at the accomplishment you've been told that graduation is? - but she doesn't want to know the answer. The ignorance gnaws at her, but she'd rather be discomfited by that than risk the genuine pain of knowing.

Are you happy, Morgana?

She settles for changing the subject instead.]

...Iris mentioned that the crew has changed. Younger. Fewer 'hard cases'.

[Very clearly not her words.]

[Morgana smiles wryly, tipping her head to the side. It's hard to judge - she isn't so much older than the go teenagers here now, at least not physically. And now that she can think back on earlier days without hatred blinding her, well - they were all doing dangerous things without being children. It makes gaging the population here, in that way, difficult.]

I suppose she's right - there are more than there used to be. Teenagers. As for hard cases... [She smiles wryly.] I guess there are fewer inclined to violence for violenc's sake, but there are still people to be wary of.

I almost don't want to warn you about Jerry. You'll love him.

[Read: want to murder. Also read: Morgana would not stop this.]

[Ivy tilts her head. She knows exactly what love means.] Go on?

He's a... [She casts about for the word] -vampire. Or he was, I suppose. But he's been in the habit of preying on women. Especially the younger ones.

[She made Bucky teach her to throw a better punch because of him.]

Dillon made him Human. He made a show at New Year's of being contrite. [She does not believe it for a second.]

[Ivy's charms don't work on the undead, generally, so it's exceptionally good news to hear that that's already been circumnavigated.]

Because he's tired of being human?

[Because who wouldn't be, really - not that she has a scrap of sympathy to spare for anyone who targets young women.]

[Morgana shrugs.]

I'd assume so, but I didn't bother to ask. I've spoken to him all of twice. [She cocks her head, almost thoughtful.]

Though the first time I was more intent on breaking his spine than holding a conversation.

[All the viciousness hasn't left her.]

[Goooood.]

Has he left you alone since that incident?

[How stupid is he.]

He has. I haven't bothered speaking to him since New Year's.

[She pauses, then grimaces.] I was in a coma for a month, but I imagine he's likely to have been hiding from those that could hurt him, now.

The typical reaction when predators realise they've become prey.

[She touches a nearby budded leaf, watching it unfurl slowly.]

My abilities have been stripped again. Not that I'm surprised.

27 ❦ Video

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