Oh Ivy! @ohivys-blog - Tumblr Blog

mutantprydes‌:

“I can’t just—I don’t teleport!” Kitty squirmed, “we’re on the subway! Why did you take the subway if the world was going to end! It’s not like I can just fling us out of here and to where ever the heck that is!” Except that she could, that was exactly the sort of thing she was equipped to do. Kitty squirmed again, when she got here, she’d expected to touch something that wasn’t supposed to be sticky, see a rat, and then finally go to that bakery she’d been meaning to try. She did not expect running into some lady and her spore problem.

“O-okay, just…hold on…I think that place is just a little before the next stop but I can….” awkward, she reached out and stiffly wrapped her arms around the woman—stranger. “I–uh—it’s—just go along with it.” Then she pushed; phasing out the side of the speeding train and then up to ground level and then up into the air before she began a shaky descent back down—closest she could approximate to the address. She half-threw the woman out of her arms, half-fell to the floor herself. “I think…” the mutant panted, “I think we definitely freaked out some people on the way here.” Or she did, but what were semantics to two spore saving heroes? (Kitty still wasn’t sure what she’d gotten herself into, exactly. Only that spores were involved, somehow)

“Well I certainly didn’t know this was all going to happen before I got on the subway!” Ivy said, waving her arms around. People weren’t just watching now, they seemed somewhat engrossed in the outcome of her little spat with this girl. Really, no one got this much attention on public transport except those annoying flash mob people. And Spiderman. “If you can’t help, then just be quiet! I’ll handle this and it’ll all be fi- AAAAH!” Ivy dropped her phone and her jaw as she was suddenly...moved. Through a portal, or dimensions, or something. Instinctively she tucked and rolled, groaning up from the pavement.

“You think?” she snapped, pushing herself up onto her feet. She was beyond irritated now, and was tempted to just call the whole thing off and go back home. What did she care, anyway? She was immune to toxins of all forms; a little poison in her tap water wouldn’t do a thing. Ivy shook her head and looked at the girl. The only reason she was continuing to bother was that she wouldn’t get in trouble with her CAMP agent. That was the only reason.

“We’re looking for men carrying some bright pink dust––spores from Lepiota brunneoincarnata manufactured to be incredibly...well, deadly. They’ll be dressed in black, because they’re unoriginal and––look out!”

The good thing was the girl had landed them in the correct location, a laboratory with sirens blaring and red lights flashing against the walls. The bad thing was the terrorists in question were right around the corner, and they were armed.

#c: kitty

@romcnsionis

It didn’t matter how bustling a city was, how overcrowded and packed in the daytime. There were always rows of innocent looking streets that found themselves deserted when the sun went down, corners and alleys and broken sidewalks where people lurked in the shadows. Places the police had all but abandoned, and only the most fearless (or crazy) heroes frequented. New York was like Gotham in that way.

So Ivy didn’t think twice, once she made up her mind. She’d had a lousy, rotten week. And now, while she was out doing ARGUS’ dirty work for them, half a dozen heroes breathing down her back at every turn, some insignificant little man had thought to attack her. She’d gotten the information she needed from him, and now she was going to discard of him her way, and she was going to enjoy it, and she wasn’t going to ever go back.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” she taunted, watching the wannabe thief turn an impressive shade of purple. My, how she’d missed this, the vines erupting from the asphalt and wrapping around her prey, squeezing and squeezing. Why had she ever stopped? “I can’t quite understand y-”

She felt a shift in the air before she turned around. Her heart sunk but she kept her expression smooth.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” she said, aloof. With a lazy wave of her hand, the vines dropped and the man went gasping to the ground. “I was just wrapping up.”

#c: roman #p: roman

mutantprydes‌:

“Don’t—don’t–don’t worry!?” Kitty sputtered, flushed, waving her hands frantically in the air to try and fill the gaps in conversation. “Hey! Hey! You! Lady!” She bounced on her feet, jumped. “Get off the phone! Y-you can’t just say a punch of people are going to die and then go back to your phone call!” She waved, fluttered, as if she were actually a bird trying to fly.

“I can help!” She proclaimed, dancing in her spot to get the woman’s attention again. “I’m a hero! I’m an X–oh it doesn’t matter. I can help! Where are the spores? I’ll get the spores!” Now she was sure she was attracting more attention than she should, but Kitty was nothing if not energetic.

“...Method? Method?! I invented this method...Yes I did thank you, so obviously I’d be the one to know how dangerous––OH WHAT IS IT?” shouted Ivy, and then froze when she saw what a terrible scene she was making. She groaned and covered her face with her hand. Now she was going to end up on social media or something.

“Fine,” she said, just on the edge of hysterical (and boy could she do hysterical when the situation warranted it). “Fine, just, get me to this address now. Ugh, I don’t even––I don’t even care anymore,” she said. “You punch these wanna be terrorists and I’ll make sure that we don’t all end up in a post apocalyptic scenario. Just, come on, let’s go.”

#c: kitty #ok so here's the thing I.....love kitty so much omg

Could that be BRIDGET REGAN? No! That’s just PAMELA ISLEY! I heard that they are a VILLAIN called POISON IV! Rumour has it SHE is 35 and is working as a TOXICOLOGIST.

Meet Ivy.

#ivysworld #intro: ivy

mutantprydes‌:

Kitty wasn’t nosy, just…curious. Really. She could invade someone’s privacy anytime she wanted; she was just curious. Listening in to phone calls was just curiosity. And really, who could blame her when they were as interesting as this woman’s. “You don’t want to call in the X-Men? That’s kind of insulting,” she grinned, more sure that this was just some strange performance art than an actual issue. “I would personally follow up on any leads about stolen spores. I love spores! How dare they be stolen! Those poor spores!” She was joking, thought her tone remained as genuine as it always was. Kitty had no issues with divulging her identity or her mutant status, both things she was proud of ( though the fact she had to take public transit was not a point of pride ).

“Ah, wait, there’s not actual deadly spores out there, is there?”

“Wait hold on,” Ivy snapped into her phone, before turning to give the girl her attention. She stared, a little slack jawed as the stranger went on about X something and spores. Good God, it was like talking to Harley. She blinked, and then blinked again, heaving a sigh when she finally finished speaking.

“Of course there are,” her voice was sharp, but she smoothed it out as fast as she could. No use taking out her end of the world panic on an innocent bystander. “I mean, don’t worry,” she said, “I’m sure someone’s going to handle it.”

Ivy pressed her phone back to her ear. “No, we can’t wait you idiot. We have to do something now!”

#c: kitty

kdxnvers‌:

If name dropping every hero league within a one-hundred mile radius hadn’t been enough to catch Kara’s attention, all but announcing the potential demise of fifteen percent of New York City definitely did the trick. She stood wide-eyed in the ensuing silence, the reassurance hitting her but sliding right off. It genuinely sounded like something, the exact opposite of nothing. Anything that had someone threatening to light up the Bat signal was enough to warrant some investigation.

Kara nodded, and waited for conversation to start back up. Eventually, the wary glances tapered to a minimum, and Kara picked the conversation up at a much quieter register; something less ‘mass panic on the metro.’ She liked her city-wide threats contained, if at all possible. “Are you sure about that? That sounds a lot like a thing we should all be worried about.”

Ivy’s looked the girl up and down, and then quickly decided there was nothing she could do. But, she quickly remembered, heroes didn’t necessarily have to be tall, muscular men who ran around in bat costumes. A hero could be just about anyone these days, even aliens, and she would be remiss to ignore the earnest look in her face.

“Well...” she said lowly, leaning in. “It could be nothing. It could also be the big apple’s latest catastrophe. I need to get somewhere fast,” she said. “Faster than ugh...this thing can take us. Do you know anyone that could help?”

#c: kara

lawyerwalters‌:

Her day had been long at the office. Things had begun to take off and Jennifer was at her wits end. She was happy to have so much business, but things were a bit too crazy for her liking. She needed to get on a schedule before she ended up losing her mind. Luckily for her, Matt had asked her for help and she had no qualms about putting him to work. For now, he was working like a paralegal, but his advice had always been unparalleled. She was anxiously awaiting for the day that he got his license back and she’d have a true partner.

It was late by the time that she sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. She needed to unwind before she went home or she’d scream. Maybe she just needed to channel She-Hulk and punch a few things. That’d probably help more than a drink. For now, she’d settle for the drink. Jen was flipping through one of her case files when she was interrupted by a familiar voice.

The voice made her panic internally and for a brief second, she considered going She-Hulk and getting the hell out of there. She didn’t. Instead, she offered her ex-girlfriend a warm smile, knowing that it’d drive her absolutely wild.

“Well, well. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” She questioned, ignoring the scathing comment she received from Ivy. The brunette took a long swig from her drink, before replying sweetly, “I can assure you that I’m not going anywhere considering that I was here first. But if you want to go, please don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.”

In another life, Ivy would have swept across the room to give her a kiss, and from that moment on she barely would have taken her hands off of her: a palm on her thigh, fingers running through her hair, leaning into her to whisper all sorts of things just to watch Jen’s answering smile. She clenched her fists and held them in her lap.

She still wanted to touch her though, she realized with a frown. Why was that? In regular Ivy fashion, her bitter amusement had turned into blinding rage in an instant, a terrible habit she had even before she was infamous across Gotham. How dare she show up again, show up here, with that stupid grin on her face. She wanted to strangle her, she realized. That’s what she wanted to do.

Ivy hoped for Jen to be with someone, because then she’d get a chance to make a real scene, let out all this frustration on some poor idiot who had unknowingly crossed her path. Ivy hoped Jen wasn’t with someone, otherwise she might just vomit then and there.

She waited until she was sure that her voice wasn’t shaking, that she sounded smooth, unaffected even: “Just making sure you know what your options are,” she said idly. “I just thought I’d ask how everything was going? You know, since I happened to be in the neighborhood How was sunny California?” she paused. “I’ve been there before of course, it’s beautiful. I’m sure you had a wonderful time. But maybe not too wonderful, since you’ve returned.”

“Tell me, what is it you’re running from this week?”

#c: jen

incrediblysincere

if the jokerman ever said to me “you wanna know how i got these scars” or whatever i would just be like no

#oh big mood #ivysworld #lmao

@lawyerwalters

It had taken a long time for Ivy to decide that avoiding old places she used to frequent with Jen was silly, and even longer for her to act upon it. The bar was nothing special, and that had sort of been the point. They’d gone there on a whim once, meeting up because it was close to her lab and she hadn’t managed to leave until after midnight. She couldn’t even remember anything about the bar, just the way Jen had placed her arm across the counter, tossing her head back and laugh. The way the air always filled with anticipation when they were close, the way Ivy couldn’t see anyone else but her.

And she couldn’t see anyone else but her now, that she walked in on a dim Autumn evening, sitting at the bar like she owned the place. Shit. Ivy’s emotions tumbled into a flare of anger. If Jen was with anyone, she’d already decided to make a scene.

Ivy knew the effect on people she could have when she wanted to, the way she turned heads as she walked in. For now she didn’t care about anyone else, just the woman sitting by herself, looking like she was almost at home.

“Well, well, the birds are flying east for the winter after all,” said Ivy, drumming razor sharp nails against the counter. She held up a hand before Jen could respond: “Now don’t worry, the door’s right there in case you feel the need to run.”

#c: jen

brainybxrd‌:

Tim had ears everywhere. Everywhere he thought it counted. Secret bugs and hidden data spider-webs to catch and filter anything he thought would be useful in his efforts to solve his problems. If he held the info, he could sway most situations in his own favor. Though, despite his hermit nature, nothing beat field research. The things you could hear from simple word-of-mouth eavesdropping were astounding, when New Yorkers forgot they were in public, getting too into their business calls, keywords tend to jump out. This was just another one of those moments.

The thing that threw him, really, was the familiar face and the talk of… nature science. Spores, specifically. “Didn’t sound like nothing,” he nervously chuckled, a soft smile almost hiding oh his face. “Sounds like you’ve got a good, old-fashioned mystery on your hands, huh?”

“Don’t worry about it dear,” she said to the kid in front of her in a honey sweet voice. “Everything is just fine,” she hoped she sounded sincere. Really, the last thing she needed was a mass panic out here, people trampling over one another to evade the latest disaster. Not that they shouldn’t be scrambling. If this was as bad as it sounded, they needed to evacuate this whole wretched city, and fast. Not that this kid could do anything about it, so why trouble anyone?

“Yes, a good old fashioned mystery,” she agreed. “And one we’ve got completely under control,” she said, lying through her teeth. “If you’ll just excuse me, I need to figure out a way to get across town in oh, five minutes.”

#c: tim

@ofkarenpages

Ivy was in her bedroom, changing out of her lab safe clothes and into something more alluring. Best to put your best foot forward, especially when Karen Page was coming for a visit. Let’s see...the olive, or the emerald, or the mint? Ah, the forest green, of course! Just as she buttoned up her blouse, she heard a knock at the door.

“It’s open, come in!” she sang, slipping into stilettos and making her way down the hall. Now, it hadn’t been the original plan for her to turn her apartment into a tropical sauna, but one Bird of Paradise became two, and she just had to have the African Angel Trumpets. Before she knew it, she had spent thousands of dollars and had frightened off two landlords. Her apartment was perpetually humid and colorful, and the perfect retreat after a hard day’s work, if you asked her.

She leaned against the door frame, finding herself face to face with one Karen Page. Who knew what strings the powers-that-be had to pull to get little old Ivy an interview with the famous reporter, but then, Ivy insisted on having the best of the best in everything.

“Oh, won’t you have a seat?” she asked, and her eyes widened when they fell on her sofa, that was tangled up in rebellious vines. She tsked and waved her hand, and the vines slowly unfurled from the furniture. “Sorry about that, please, make yourself comfortable. Would you like some tea? I’ll make tea!”

#c: karen page

@apoisontouch

It was Gotham that had made her, poisoned her all those years ago and set her loose in a lawless city. Gotham was where she made her name, and whenever she was caught, Gotham called her home to the stony, shuddering walls of Arkham. But Ivy branched out eventually, and now was an honored member of most wanted lists all over the world. Were it not for CAMP, well, she’d have a nice dark cell with her name on it. Or orders to shoot on sight.

As it so happened, New York City had experienced its own taste of Ivy awhile back, long enough ago that people no longer tried to harass her on the street, but not quite long enough for her to have forgotten. Every once in awhile, she bumped into someone from before accidentally, someone who knew her as a bit more...green skinned, pheromones buzzing in the air and a trail of bodies behind her.

It was an ordinary mechanic, which suited her purposes. She had to go upstate in a week to give a lecture on xenobiotic biotransformation, and she realized she didn’t have a car. In the past, a couple kisses would have her with a stolen car and a stolen chauffeur, but now she had to settle for figuring out why her Beetle made hissing noises when she tried to start her up.

What wasn’t necessarily so ordinary was the woman working there, and Ivy had a flashback to darkened, crumbling building, muffled screams, a shock of white hair. She put her hands on her hips as the woman got to work, and did nothing to hide her pleased expression.

“I hate to be demanding, but do you think you’ll be able to finish today? I really would appreciate it...And I guess I should also say I appreciated that time in Queens. I never did get the chance to thank you, did I?”

#c: rogue

theclownprnc‌:

Spiraling into boredom is a greatly uncalled-for state. Too much idleness had the power to drive the Joker to some of the most violent acts, of course, there was also a plethora of miscellaneous factors that could give the first domino a little push. The night is too quiet and the streets are too empty, much to his dissatisfaction. This bothersome stillness even washes the signature smile off of his face as he struts down the pavement, peeking behind every corner in hopes of stumbling upon a living soul.

Whistling a merry tune under his breath, he toys with a shiny flick knife and – in contrary to popular belief – he actually doesn’t plan on putting it to good use anytime soon. It’s more like a stage prop, or a set of keys to jingle on your way home. It keeps his hands busy. And then when he catches a figure with the corner of his eye, a low chortle rumbles at the back of his throat. Finally, some promising entertainment. They better make it worth his precious time.

“You look a little bit lost,” he says and a broad grin twists his red lips. Continuing to fiddle with the blade, his suddenly amused stare fixates on the other, not approaching them yet. “Need a guide? I’ve got a spare moment. Well, slightly more than that.”

It was late by the time Pamela left the lab––a usual occurrence, for she rarely allowed her staff to close it all up on their own. And heaven forbid anyone ever step foot in her greenhouse. No, she could do it all herself, to her impeccable standards, and her trainees could handle the more menial tasks like fetching her coffee and staying out of her way.

She had to hurry home. Tonight her orchids needed pruning before she went to sleep, and Dendrobium Aphyllum was temperamental enough without missing its scheduled maintenance. She made a mental note to contact a fellow herbalist in Bangladesh to get a second opinion on fertilizer in the morning.

She didn’t think anything of it when she caught movement nearby. It took a light to frighten her these days, and any creep thinking they were going to mug a woman walking by herself in the dark would get quite a shock when they got close enough to feel her vines wrap themselves around their throat. And she could do that; self defense was allowed. Even for a girl like her.

It’s the voice that made her jump, and she gave a short gasp before rolling her eyes. She turned fully to gaze at blood red lips, a sickly pale complexion. Ugh. “What have I told you?” she sounded bored, even though her heart rate had picked up. “No funny business.”

#c: joker #c: rogues

“Listen––I don’t care about the odds,” Pamela snapped into her cellphone, running her fingers through her hair. It’d fallen loose from her bun as she raced out of her lab, and she couldn’t help but to twist it as she spoke. “If there is any chance, and I mean any chance, a group like that has stolen those spores, we need to call in the calvary. The Avengers, Justice League––Hell, call Batman himself! No we can’t wait––We have to––Listen to me! If they know how to use them, fifteen percent of this city could be dead in a week. How’s that for odds?”

Just as suddenly as the words left her mouth, she realized she was standing in a crowd. In public transport. And more than a few eyes were turned her way. She glanced at the nearest person and plastered on a smile.

“Oh, That? Hmm, it’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

#theaftermathstarter

zatarahs-archive-deactivated202

Poison Ivy for contest winner @damianalghul

#ivysworld

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Oh Ivy!