Early Bird Gets the Rocket Launcher

March 28th, 2015: Poison Ivy and Taskmaster have some face time.

Isley Garden, Gotham

"If you are strong enough, you will survive. That is the law of the

The gateway to the conquered corner is green. Once a wrought iron
gate of olde surrounded this small personal slice of a groundskeepers home,
but now it is overgrown, overcome, vines wind their way up in a deadly
serpentine embrace, conquering the man made materials and over the time it
took them to grow slowly bending it and warping the ore into submission as
well as the brickwork reinforcement pillars, chipping and eroding away to
make room for the housed death of all humanity.
Within the newly made blockade of green is the entrapped bodies,
wandering too close, seeking to poison this small nest of /life/, taken in
by the Venus and her traps to be her eternal weapons to future trespass. But
if you get behind, if she lets you beyond the gates of the Poison Ivy…
Beyond the walls and gates built of those held in her eternal sway
is a garden of plants that thrive no matter the season, a vining network
like nerves; veins pumping lifeblood throughout the expanse of a garden long
forgotten, and yet not. Habitable only if you fall within the embrace of the
green that networks its way along stone paths, cobble uprooted and discarded
into broken paths, surrounded by trees ever-green and thickets ever-deadly
only moving for the sway held by one and guiding you with rippling movements
in shadows towards the greenhouse as well as the former garden masters keep.

The greenhouse is yet another of Gotham's long forgotten places,
old Victorian and Gothic architecture held together by bending metal
framework and glass once, and now it seems the vines, trees and
(un)forgotten plants keep the structure held aloft, giving it a haunting
appeal that is appreciated by its owner. Within this vast structure it is
not only above ground but below, where Isley holds her labs and nurtures
life from seedling to spore and expands on their growth. (
B1s3hp12o1_1280.jpg )
Offset and in the far reach of the garden is the old gardeners
cottage, just as poorly kept as the greenhouse in outward appearance, but
inside the green keeps holes sealed, floorboards in place and every
precarious step sure - as long as you are the owner, within her thrall, or
accepted by the green. Furnishings are knocked aside here and there, as they
are of no need for Ivy, but perhaps guests will right them and find comfort
in the old velvet and overstuffed chairs, if comfort is offered your way. (
ca6af31.jpg )
Always remember, looks can deceive and the life networked through
and within these walls can defend and deceive, the only truth is what the
Poisonous let you see, and even then it may not be real. Or too real.



  • NA

Mood Music:

With the winter letting up in Gotham, now was the time to strike. Snow frozen over soon gives way to a slightly warmer climate. With the warmth in the air, the chill rises up, thawing the ground and implanted seeds soon sprout by the will of Ivy, and a few contractors charmed with a simple kiss laced with ruby red afforded her the luxury of wrought iron gates that were picked up and planted correctly, held down by fresh bolts even though the iron faced it's own rot in the jungle keep.

But she was there, a little light jacket donned to tend to the garden, bloomed long before it's time that nature would allow, gates wide open with certain expectant visitors to arrive even though currently, there were none. All of the green that she controls in this area was on standby, sated from food she created, drinking up fresh h20 mixed with her own concoction of flavoring that keeps the living beasts appeased. Especially the Venus.

They're mean and grean. And bad.

"I don't like the smell of this city. It reminds me of wet dog and a bad cigar." Taskmaster's voice can be heard from behind Ivy. He is walking casually for a man dressed to kill a small army. The electronic voice inflection is there with the skull-mask. His eyes are visible as there is no lenses covering them right now.

"So this is where you hang when you're not making kissy faces with Monev? Which, careful there. Man's strutting around like he just got laid." The mercenary tips his head, "Ain't true is it? You didn't give the King of Nerds a piece of dat green lovin' ass didja? I mean, not my bidness butttt, seriously, I'm going to have to fuck with you if you did. I can only imagine his O face looks Mr.Ed right as they pull the carrot out."

"But better than New York. There, it smells like old people pee and liquor." She was on the up and up, quick, turning upon her heels with watering can held aloft. It was large; like something out of a comic book, tulips decorating the side with a daisy like sprout. And it was in Easter colors, cute. But it served it's purpose.

Her brows shoot up as she watches him, her lips forming into a thin line as she continues to listen, her eyes nearly crossing as a faint smirk draws upon her face, turning to tend to the plants with a rain of water to their exterior.

"You came all this way from where ever you were just to ask that?" She pauses. "A lady never tells, by the way. And I'm so very glad he's happy. He needed a shake. It shut him up, after all. Yes?"
"You got me! Guilty as charged. I totally just came out here to this shit stain of a city just to pester you about your poor taste in men. What can I say, I'm jealous. That was a nice pull of Archie." Taskmaster's arms wave in the air in a taunting fashion. Quickly he is chuckling, odd sound, all mechanical-like with the voice distortion. "Actually word goin' around there is some big hits coming out of this city soon. Figured I'd come and lay some carpet beforehand. I usually avoid this place, last time I was here I had a shoot out with some fucking clowns. Where in the world are clowns a serious threat? Gotham and France. Ridiculous. More reasons to hate this city."

"Early bird gets the worm, right?" The canister was soon set down upon the ground as she turns, brows furrowing in a slight bit of anger towards no one, a steel gaze upon the masked man with a head slightly tilted towards her left. And then right. "Though I suppose you don't want a go, no? Not a fan of sloppy seconds? No.. possibly not." She begins to walk now, treading the path that she created, a gloved finger beckoning Taskmaster to follow.

"He cried a lot." A little confession. Though is words catch more interest then the tryst with Monev. "California. Don't forget California. And I'm going to assume that the groundwork you're going to lay has to do with our scantily clad friend? How is she, by the by. I need her to visit. To catch up over some tea. I have a brand that I believe she'll appreciate."

"The worm? Haha, nah, I'll leave off. That one is too easy… " Taskmaster chuckles, "Speaking of easy… " Grins, all grins. Welcome to a man who wears a skull for a face. "I dunno, I mean, I do, but then I don't. I seen what you do to men." A thumb-flick towards a plant that is something out of this world, not quite, but it's a mutant and one of Pamela's own. Who nows what she feeds it. "Scantly clad? Baroness? Thats a rare thing if you mean her." He is following her though, walking after, mutual respect and all. They're both hardened criminals who have killed.

"Not rare. To a woman, scantily clad means so much more than how much skin is laid bare for the world to see." Baroness had curves upon curves, even Ivy would admit that much. The door to the ruined shed turned greenhouse was soon opened, pushed and held aloft for Taskmaster to enter in behind her, the ruined place had a certain charm for people like her. Though him? That's subjective.

"Since you're unable to come to a decision, in thirty minutes I'm going to decide for you. And either way, you'll walk out of here upon your two feet. I'm feeling rather generous today." And weird. "So. To business. What can I do to help you."

A pause at the door and Taskmaster's lenses slide over his eyes. Just in case. He's also equipped with a filtration system, should he require it. He is also geared up with multiple incinderiaries, also, should he require it. Villains. So much trust to be had.

"Huh?" Coy or just not sure he is grokking her mouth music Taskmaster makes for the easy reply. "Business, of course, I need a hideout while in Gotham and you also know the lay of the land. I want to know who is who and what is what, more about these Bats and Birds that infest this place also who pays the most, Falcone, Maroni, Galante, the Penguin… yadda yadda. Intel. Need intel."

Once he was inside, the door closes right behind him. Sure, there were cracks upon the surface that makes it look ruined and almost unhinged, but the entire place was a weapon. She really needed no protection from those who enter and possibly will not leave.

"Business it is. You're welcome to use this place, not that I trust you, but it's an easy way to keep an eye on you. You won't have to worry about unexpected visitors and you'll always be protected." But from her? That was left up to.. well, her.

A low, hanging vine seeps lower, dangling itself from the roof of the room, in which Ivy wraps a green glove around the shaft to carefully sit upon the curve. Surely there are couches, he could pull them up as he needs to make himself at home, but she would not assist. He could fend for himself.

"Intel. I can tell you all about the Bats and his rag tag crew of assholes, that'll be easy. But for who would pay what? That would cost you. What have you to offer me?"

"Intel, back up, my lovely presence, my appreciation, you name it. I figured same team and the fact I'll be busting up your old stomping pals woulda been payment enough." A shrug and Taskmaster looks around before sitting himself down on one of the couches in the shed. "What did you have in mind, sweetcheeks?"

Ivy sets herself to swinging lightly, her lips puckering outward as her green eyed gaze turns towards the ceiling. "Mmh. Alright!" She seemed happy enough, no fits of crazies marring the situation or delicate features. Which, was weird. "Two rocket launchers." She states bluntly. She could do a lot with rocket launchers, but for what purpose? It has yet to be seen, or known, for that matter.

"About the Batman." She starts with the big boy first. "He's not of the lethal sort. He'll break your bones, disfigure you, humiliate you, but he will not kill you. Though I suspect he's going to toe that line soon enough. Possibly in another.." She clicks her teeth. "Twenty years. By then he'll be so bruised and banged up he'll have heart attacks while doing wheelies on his stupid motorcycle.." The imagery, it makes her laugh.

"He also has a penchant for children. Borderline pedo. He Mister Sunshines them to his cause and creates a nasty crew of mini-vigilantes that'll do nothing but get on your damn nerves. Nightwing and Robin." Those were all she knew of. Thankfully, she hadn't run across them since her 'escape' from Arkham.

"Rocket launchers? You even know what to do with those?" Another of those chuckles escapes the mercenary and he kicks one leg up, a gloved finger picking at his boot in an idle fashion. "More reasons to hate this city, even your heroes are fruity." Taskmaster's boot thumps to the ground again and he studies the woman quietly a moment.

"Yes." Ivy states simply, it was nearly a snap of the words and mild irritation, irritation that causes her swinging to cease and a long, hard gaze given to Taskmaster, and soon a smirk. "They could get rather annoying. As you've noticed the times where we've all met it's been done indoors. There's possibly a way for them to see us.. " Her voice trails out. "Or.. he has a source on the inside that I've not been able to suss out yet." She shrugs her shoulders, then continues to rock on her vine.

"However, I would stay away from the families at the moment, though I'm sure Galante wouldn't mind paying more for what you're offering just because. Falcone would probably up it a bit more if he hears you're going straight for Galante so you'd possibly be best playing the field." She was thoughtful soon after, her gaze lifting towards the ceiling, a few of the cracks allowing the nights sky to be seen.

"Another note. Stay out of East End. They shoot on sight." Kill? Maybe.

"Not exactly the info I am hunting for but I can make due on most of this. I should be thankful?" Both arms rise up and rest behind Taskmaster's head. A whistle sound escaping him. "Two rocket launchers, fair 'nuff. So, you saying Falcone's run is a good one. I never really care for working with the Mafioso sorts, they're always so… serious. What is it you do when you're not playing mad scientist for the Baroness anyways? I look around and I see one warped piece of artwork here, you really don't like people do you?"

"You really didn't give specifics." Ivy shrugs her shoulders. In fact, she keeps to herself most days. She doesn't dilly dally with the family, even though she could gain intel easily. "I just don't know much about the Penguin to toss him under the bus. Nor Two-Face."

She nods faintly, one leg crossing over the other as she draws out a faint frown. That so serious line reminded her of the Joker and her treasured friend Harley.. there was a bit of wonder in her gaze as she draws out a shrug of her shoulders.

"I do nothing but tend to me and mine and live in peace. People are nothing but untrustworthy people who are only meant to disappoint and betray. So why would I allow their company and for those situations to arise?" There was a pause, and a draw back of the sleeve upon velvet. "Your thirty minutes are almost up. As of now, I like you well enough to relieve you and send you walking in tact. But since you may or may not stay here.. I suppose I have to torture your good friend Monev much to the lack of slim pickings as of late.."

"Fair enough. Specifics, huh? I suppose I just need to know who to look out for and who pays the most, you gave me that. No complaints here." The Taskmaster sits forward looking like he is about to get up. "Monev and me pals? Fuck that noise. That is a song none will ever sing. I hate that shitfaced ugly little pencil pusher, I'm frankly saddened that you took any part of in his extracurricular activities. Kills some of the fantasy for me." A creaking sound of leather and what could be Kevlar and the man straightens himself up in to a stand, "Nah, I make it sound worse than it is. Maybe I'm a little jealous, like I said, that is a nice pull." The mercenary is all over the place with his jabs and focus. Just a part of his nature.

"Spose I did stay here, you got real people food right? Nah, I probably wont be doin' that. Offer was kind of you… I think. I still ain't figured you out." He hasn't and he is a master at reading people. Physically at least.

Ivy watched Taskmaster with amusement. For a moment it seemed that she would burst out with loud laughter and chiding but she didn't. She just stared at him, Taskmaster was a weird one, to be sure. "You shouldn't be jealous. You have Baroness. Far better toy that I'll ever be. I ruin people, I'm sure that she does not." She stands now, drawing herself towards the door as she gives a shake of her head. "I'll go get some human food. You wouldn't like what I would have to feed you, if you should stay. I am jonsing for something sweet.."

Ivy was being unusually nice, which was something that was a little rare in her time. Perhaps he caught her at a good moment. With all said and done? She was gone out of the door, heading to the city proper.

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