Pamela Isley | Poison Ivy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chlorophylliac) wrote2012-09-05 09:41 pm
chlorophylliac) wrote2012-09-05 09:41 pm
Entry tags:
011 || Video
[It's been a long while since Ivy last surfaced on the Barge network. She's sitting on deck, one wall of the greenhouse at her back; her mood's taken a swing for the contemplative. Or rather, a swing for the 'let's talk about plants so I don't threaten you all with the ludicrously OP superpowers I totally have now, thanks T'Pol'.]
Nikolai Vavilov.
No, I don't anticipate anyone knowing the name. He was a Soviet botanist and geneticist, most famously credited with Vavilov Centers - the eight geographical regions he identified as the origin points for the human domestication of crop plants. He was also an academic colleague of William Bateson, who I hope at least some of you know was first on Earth to use 'genetics' to refer to the study of heredity.
His ideas didn't go down well with Stalin. Naturally, his ideology had no time for the notion that a living thing could be innately superior to its siblings - genetics was the science of fascism, at the time. He was alternately marginalised and blamed for massive food shortages, not least by a former protégé who invented a more palatable theory.
[She pauses for thought.]
Vavilov died in prison. Of malnutrition, ironically. But that's not my point.
His other legacy to the world was one of the planet's first seedbanks. He had collected almost half a million seeds and roots from across the globe in the hope of making that diversity easily available to his successors, and perhaps to protect those species from the predations of an increasingly hostile, polluted world.
[Her tone's darkened and a moment she looks like she's about to derail into something angrier and less educational, but her brow smooths out and she goes on.]
The Soviets didn't recognize its significance, of course. Even as they were emptying out their museums, they had no idea that Hitler was more interested in the real treasure hidden in Leningrad. When the city was besieged, they didn't even try to protect it. Twelve scientists - unsupported by their government, followers of a man already dying in prison - these men took it on themselves to guard the bank for over two years.
Surrounded by tens of thousands of seeds they knew to be nutritious, nine of them voluntarily starved to death.
[She sounds about as impressed by this as Ivy will ever be by the self-sacrifice of a male human, i.e. 'not actively disgusted'. The vines around her wrists shift and writhe as if they're fidgeting.]
It isn't widely known. One small anecdote in a greater story - but what if things had been different, I wonder. If they hadn't died, but killed, in defence of the riches of the Earth. Not martyrs, but guardians. Would history have marked them as villains, or elevated them as heroes?
[She gives the camera a look which suggests she already has some strong ideas about the answer, and then her communicator switches off.]
[Private to Erik; Text]
My abilities have been restored.
Nikolai Vavilov.
No, I don't anticipate anyone knowing the name. He was a Soviet botanist and geneticist, most famously credited with Vavilov Centers - the eight geographical regions he identified as the origin points for the human domestication of crop plants. He was also an academic colleague of William Bateson, who I hope at least some of you know was first on Earth to use 'genetics' to refer to the study of heredity.
His ideas didn't go down well with Stalin. Naturally, his ideology had no time for the notion that a living thing could be innately superior to its siblings - genetics was the science of fascism, at the time. He was alternately marginalised and blamed for massive food shortages, not least by a former protégé who invented a more palatable theory.
[She pauses for thought.]
Vavilov died in prison. Of malnutrition, ironically. But that's not my point.
His other legacy to the world was one of the planet's first seedbanks. He had collected almost half a million seeds and roots from across the globe in the hope of making that diversity easily available to his successors, and perhaps to protect those species from the predations of an increasingly hostile, polluted world.
[Her tone's darkened and a moment she looks like she's about to derail into something angrier and less educational, but her brow smooths out and she goes on.]
The Soviets didn't recognize its significance, of course. Even as they were emptying out their museums, they had no idea that Hitler was more interested in the real treasure hidden in Leningrad. When the city was besieged, they didn't even try to protect it. Twelve scientists - unsupported by their government, followers of a man already dying in prison - these men took it on themselves to guard the bank for over two years.
Surrounded by tens of thousands of seeds they knew to be nutritious, nine of them voluntarily starved to death.
[She sounds about as impressed by this as Ivy will ever be by the self-sacrifice of a male human, i.e. 'not actively disgusted'. The vines around her wrists shift and writhe as if they're fidgeting.]
It isn't widely known. One small anecdote in a greater story - but what if things had been different, I wonder. If they hadn't died, but killed, in defence of the riches of the Earth. Not martyrs, but guardians. Would history have marked them as villains, or elevated them as heroes?
[She gives the camera a look which suggests she already has some strong ideas about the answer, and then her communicator switches off.]
[Private to Erik; Text]
My abilities have been restored.
[Spam]
How long till it takes effect?
[Spam]
About ten seconds. [Ivy does not fuck about as a scientist.] Come in.
[Inside her cabin - the greenhouse from the house she'd shared with Selina and Harley, somewhat smaller than that on deck and more utilitarian in design - is dense and rich with life, coiling vines and vivid flowers everywhere. And all of it moves; with no need to restrict herself, she allows the plants to reach out for her in adoration.]
[Spam]
Following her in, Erik's eyebrows slowly climb at the decor. The corner of his mouth quirks up as he watches the plants reach for her.]
You'll never want for affection.
[Spam]
[Spam]
[And as soon as the words leave his mouth his stomach shifts uneasily, but he locks his jaw. He can deal with a little discomfort.]
You mentioned your natural toxicity. [Eyebrowww. How fast could that kill him.]
[Spam]
[She shrugs.] I've learnt to control my body chemistry, but I don't consider that to render me safe. Every part of me is poisonous. Anyone with whom I'm even remotely intimate would start to suffer from the cumulative effects of that, over time.
[Spam]
[Spam]
[Spam]
In other words, I'll never have to worry about an assassination attempt. At least, not with poison.
[ He reaches out, toward the closest plant, and brushes his fingers lightly over leaves. ]
This is incredible.
[Spam]
[A brief, sharp smile.]
Of course, I could go out and create the opportunity right now but it'd be more trouble than it's worth.
[Spam]
His look turns rueful as he glances back at her. ]
It rankles, doesn't it? Playing by their rules.
[Spam]
I would have been satisfied to draw a line in the sand, once. To simply be left alone.
[Spam]
Did that change before you came here? [ He reaches toward the blue flower, slowly, as if it was an animal that might bite. ] Or after?
[Spam]
[Spam]
Peace was never an option, [ he repeats quietly. ] They've made that abundantly clear.