Pamela Isley | Poison Ivy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chlorophylliac) wrote2015-06-15 09:13 pm
chlorophylliac) wrote2015-06-15 09:13 pm
30 ❦ Video
[Ivy is sitting in the lovingly upgraded greenhouse, on the edge of the fountain pool she's created at the centre, and absolutely nobody was surprised. There's a plant/animal hybrid on her lap; anatomically a small rabbit, but what it's covered with is more like moss than fur and its eyes are completely black.]
The first greenhouses used on Earth were recorded by Pliny the Elder, two thousand years before my time.
The Roman Emperor Tiberius wanted cucumbers all year round, so, his gardeners made it happen. Their specularium predated the invention of glass; they used oiled cloth or sheets of mica. They weren't used constantly, only at night, to protect the plants from the cold after they'd had the benefit of the sunlight during the day.
More sophisticated versions appeared over a thousand years later. The Vatican, in the thirteenth century, to house plants brought as trophies from tropical exploration. Korea, two centuries afterward. What my contemporaries would consider a modern greenhouse didn't appear until the eighteen-hundreds.
By my time, commercial technology allows plants to be grown out of season, thousands of miles from the environments where they evolved, untroubled by parasites or predators or the vagaries of the weather. Even the most diseased specimens can heal in a place designed for precisely that.
[She falters, briefly, gaze going out of focus. It looks like she's fighting something off, consciously or otherwise.]
Which is perfectly fine, if all you want is something that will thrive in an artificial environment. But when you return it to its home -- with all the threats and dangers that plant is subject to --
[Ivy tunes out again, gaze going flat and empty.]
The following Warden and Inmate have been paired:
A.J. Crowley //sauntervaguelydownwards → Arthas Menethil // darknessb4me
The warden should expect a file to be delivered to his cabin shortly. Please familiarize yourself with the information therein and introduce yourself to your new Inmate as soon as possible.
[She blinks slowly, coming back to herself.]
Sometimes the rot runs particularly deep, of course. I hope you'll be very happy together.
The first greenhouses used on Earth were recorded by Pliny the Elder, two thousand years before my time.
The Roman Emperor Tiberius wanted cucumbers all year round, so, his gardeners made it happen. Their specularium predated the invention of glass; they used oiled cloth or sheets of mica. They weren't used constantly, only at night, to protect the plants from the cold after they'd had the benefit of the sunlight during the day.
More sophisticated versions appeared over a thousand years later. The Vatican, in the thirteenth century, to house plants brought as trophies from tropical exploration. Korea, two centuries afterward. What my contemporaries would consider a modern greenhouse didn't appear until the eighteen-hundreds.
By my time, commercial technology allows plants to be grown out of season, thousands of miles from the environments where they evolved, untroubled by parasites or predators or the vagaries of the weather. Even the most diseased specimens can heal in a place designed for precisely that.
[She falters, briefly, gaze going out of focus. It looks like she's fighting something off, consciously or otherwise.]
Which is perfectly fine, if all you want is something that will thrive in an artificial environment. But when you return it to its home -- with all the threats and dangers that plant is subject to --
[Ivy tunes out again, gaze going flat and empty.]
The following Warden and Inmate have been paired:
A.J. Crowley //
sauntervaguelydownwards → Arthas Menethil // darknessb4meThe warden should expect a file to be delivered to his cabin shortly. Please familiarize yourself with the information therein and introduce yourself to your new Inmate as soon as possible.
[She blinks slowly, coming back to herself.]
Sometimes the rot runs particularly deep, of course. I hope you'll be very happy together.
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[Ivy's voice is quiet and level. It took her a long time to come to this conclusion herself, but it seems as natural as breathing now.]
Nothing has changed. You just know yourself a little better.
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[But she very deeply suspects that this is not what Tiffany thinks.]
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... I didn't always want it. I really didn't.
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Please don't tell anybody. Please. I know you think I told everybody about Paris and maybe you're gonna want to find some revenge, but please pick something else.
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For the love of - come here.
[And it is not Ivy's thing, at all, but she pulls the woman into a hug nonetheless.]
I will not tell anyone.
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Do I have to tell anyone?
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No. No. Your life and your past are your business, Tiffany. Nobody else's.
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I was kinda worried you'd say I gotta tell people I sleep with - like you have to when you got an STD or something.
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[Ivy shakes her head.]
I've never told any of my partners. There's no need for them to know.
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[Ivy hums softly.]
I wouldn't say I've dated since I became a...plant lady, as you put it. But my longer-term partners - no.
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[Matter-of-factly:]
They have no right to be angry, and worrying about their sense of entitlement isn't worth your time. Anyone who is will respect your privacy.
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It's not about rules. It's about what makes you feel comfortable. If you want people to know - tell them. If you don't, you don't have to.
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... They already think that, some. I guess they're kinda right. But I'm getting better at it. I think I am, anyway.
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If anyone told me I was stupid or let people use me, on that basis, I would kill them. And if anyone said it to me, about you, they wouldn't enjoy how that conversation ended either.
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Then you don't have to tell her. Not yet, and maybe not ever. It's your choice.
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Sometimes I get tired of making my own choices.
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