Loose Ends

August 16, 2015:

Nightwing arrives at Poison Ivy's stronghold to take care of unfinished business.

Robinson Park

Ivy's hideout deep within Robinson Park


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Some loose ends have been too long in tying up. Dick Grayson has had a rough few months: fighting against the bureaucracy and dirtiness of the GCPD, the death of his partner, and an ongoing case that nearly ripped him apart. Nevertheless, despite the odds he came out on top. Now is time to pick up the pieces of all that was going on before his life got turned upside down.

As he approaches Ivy's hidden stronghold, deep within Robinson Park, he exhibits none of the stealthy approach that usually accompanies one of his crew. Standard operating procedure is to slip in through an unknown entrance, to take others by surprise and gain the upperhand. Rather, he simply walks up towards the door and knocks.

He's hoped by now that the children have been given up. He'd hoped Ivy would come to the conclusion herself, but he's been led to believe that she still has them. As the moon filters through the overgrowth of green above, he finds himself hoping she's agreeable.

Everything had started to come together within her own home. She had the clear mind and facilities to do what needs to be done in regards to CC-CV1, the warehouse that she pilfered along with Monev was coming along nicely with a string of items that were 'borrowed' from local labs, a tiny greenhouse set up within, all she needed were .. warm bodies to make it all complete. There was focus since whatever it was that smacked her in the back not two weeks ago. An odd feeling, but one that Ivy came to embrace and deemed to never let go.

The children were sleeping in their rooms as the dishes were being washed, hands wiped clean of water and everything placed where it need be. Gardening hat soon donned and a pair of shears were soon gripped as she turns to head for the door, only stopping as she hears a knock.

Who could be so bold?

The door was reached and tugged open, shears gripped with the means to stab until she sees him there with a slight frown crossing her lips. "I forgot." She states blandly. "You've missed dinner and there is nothing left. Though I suppose since you're one that walks with the night, coffee is in order." She steps away from the door to allow him entry, the hat soon taken off and tossed towards the loveseat. "I've managed to acquire a blend that's only grown in the areas of Tibet. With a little manipulation during it's growth it's proven to be the strongest brew yet."

Nightwing's first thought is to reject the offer—he has a feeling the tone of this conversation could sour and that the taking of a gift would be done in bad faith. Nevertheless, it could soften the conversation, and besides it was true the young man could use the coffee.

"Thank you, Ivy," he says soberly. "I appreciate it."

"Hmm." Is all she says of his thanks, the shears laid upon the counter top as she begins to wash her hands, dry, and then glove them properly so that she could prepare the coffee. The new transition for her was odd, in the fact that there was that silent urge to ask what he has been doing, how life has been, because the care within was genuine, along with the compassion that makes her soul itch.

"H.. How have you been?" Reluctance, of course. Any other time she wouldn't have cared.

"Busy," Nightwing replies, taking no odd reaction to the question. Of course it's not really an answer either. It simply just is. To give her the honest truth, that most of his life has been taken up behind the mask, would make it easier to figure out who he really is.

"And yourself?"

"Same." The coffees were soon poured, a slice of butter and a touch of sugar and coconut oil from her cabinent was dropped in, stirred, and soon presented on a tray which was placed upon the table. Even though her drinking it would be a show of soliditary; the toxins within wouldn't affect her as much as it would him.

Think of the really, high powered energy drink without the crash and abundance of sugar and mycotoxin.

"I do have a feeling that you're here for business. The lax in conversation tells me so; it's stiff and uncomfortable." She doesn't stare at him, at one point in time, ripping off the mask was an option, but Ivy was being.. 'kind'. Her cup was taken and sipped, her eyes cutting towards the bedroom door of where the children lay. "It's about them, isn't it."

"We can't keep them, Ivy," he says in response, cutting right to the quick and using a term that implies togetherness instead of being adversarial. "You and I, we live dangerous and terrible lives. Imagine if something were to happen to you out there." He sighs a bit, regretfully, "I feel like the best idea is to turn them into the state."

That.. stung. So much that she had to put her coffee down, even though the term was there, she still felt a little bit on edge. Something inside of her said that she understood, but that she really didn't want to let them go. They didn't keep her on the straight and narrow, but..

"And you do realize that the state was the reason as to -why- they were taken in the first place?" She points out. "The lack of care. The lack of security to prevent their kidnappings.. and once again, the lack of care. No one is looking for them and now they -thrive- in our custody. And they are -healthy-. You would take that from them?" She shakes her head. "I have taken steps to ensure my sustainability. And should something happen to me there is always you."

"I do understand that, Ivy. And perhaps you have a point. Another option is to set them up with a family outside of the city. Out of New Jersey entirely perhaps, since you and I agree that there's a problem within that bureaucracy. I just feel like there have to be other options." He sighs, "If it's protection we're worried about, we can do that from afar. We could even work together on it to ensure their safety."

Her hands lift to rub at her face as she considers the options. She has kept quiet since the acquisition of the children, but even she knows that she could only do so much. They both were right in this instance, and as much as she didn't want to be the bigger person, that stupid compassion that was slammed into her back and etched within her soul was making it so hard for her to be selfish.

Fingers dance along her cheeks as she glances to the door again, her shoulders slumping in resignation. She nearly wanted to kill Nightwing but.. the children. "How far away can you get them, and how soon. And with who? I will not have them with mongrels who are prone to snobbery, nor someone who has a heavy hand. They need compassion. Guidance. Encouragement. And proper discipline. Everything that.. possibly.. we never had." It was clear money didn't matter.

"I know a family in Star City that I could put them with tonight. But I wouldn't want you to not have a few days with them to say your goodbyes, if this is something you choose to do. Pair of school teachers. The lady teaches middle school science. I think you'd like them."

Ivy shakes her head and turns around, her fingers gripping the counter top with a slight crush and dent to it's exterior. Her jaw tenses, teeth grinding back and forth as her head shakes briefly, a hand soon lifting to wipe away at her cheeks as she draws in a breath. "Okay." A couple of days. That would be it.

And now.. the hard part. "Take your coffee and get the hell out of my house." A beat. "And.. be careful."

"As you wish," Nightwing says as he stands with his coffee. "I'll be back in a few days. And I'll return the cup." He smirks a bit and makes for the door. "For the record I know how hard this must be for you, and for that I'm sorry."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License