Green VS. Green

August 12, 2016:

Both Wraith and Ivy have the same idea, only to have Batman show up. It all goes off with a bang.

Anderson Chemicals, Gotham City


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Gotham was never one for fair weather, nor was it one for clean business practices. News moves fast, especially to the ears that are more than eager to hear it. Tonight, a certain section of criminal activity was about to come face to face with a few figures, but its actions were not openly violent. It was a robbery, or a break-in, nor did it risk the lives of citizens through riots and out-right violence; this was something else.

Massive chemical vats were bubbling away on the bottom floor of the Anderson Chemical Plant, a plant that considered itself, and told its customers, that it was 'clean'. Clean depends on who pays the bills, and the company had, indeed, fallen into the hands of lower mob bosses, and decided to cut down on its expenses by dumping its waste into a small outlet just outside of one of the island city's water ways.

Frantic voices could be heard, screaming out and begging the dark figure who's hands wrap around rope and continues hoisting three men in suits up, up, and up. Their bodies dangle over one of the massive vats, and in their struggling, the trio turns slowly.

"Please! Please! Stop! You can't do this to us!" "Do you know who we work for?!" "They'll have your head for this! They'll hunt you down and everyone you hold dear!" The figure in black, who's face is half covered by a mask, stops drawing up her 'catch' of the day. "What do you think you're doing?! What are you trying to prove?!" One of the men exclaims.

"Justice." The figure husks behind her mask, her brows furrowing down, setting her eyes to glare. "Don't worry. If your product is as 'clean' as you suggest, you'll be fine after a dip, right? I guess it won't stop the drowning though."

Even in Gotham, water brings life to some. Life most life in Gotham however, it was often found choking in filth and nearly smothered out by the harsh contamination brought about by the carelessness of others. Most in the city simply lived with it and made the most of what their poisoned existence could offer them. Others? They were a little more aggressive about it. Over a month ago a certain redheaded chlorokinetic had slipped from Akham Asylum's supposedly secure cells to freedom, rumors and conjecture all that were left as clues as to how. The public? They hadn't even been aware thanks to a management decision not to announce their failures and damage the facility's already fractured reputation.

To her credit, Pamela Isley had mostly been laying low. While the green-skinned plant-wielding image of her was rather famous, a simple tweak of her pigments and most mistook her for just another pretty woman going about her day. Tonight however, there would be no mistaking. After the loss of her flower-shop refuge that had once been a monument to attempted rehabilitation, Ivy had taken to building another garden for herself, tucked away and out of sight from the rest of the world. A garden that these poisoned waters had flowed to, crippling and smothering her children. This wasn't going to stand…

With a heavy thud a uniformed security guard hit the ground before her, still frothing at the mouth while the vines and tendrils following behind her snaked over walls and furniture alike to smother her surroundings. Mother Nature was going to get some revenge.

There's a snaphiss of sparks from the utility room as something's bypassed and shorted out. The safety cages over the vats start to slide shut, the splashguards and vat covers intended to prevent… well, precisely what's happening with the three fellows on the verge of being unwilling participants in their own chemical education.

"If you kill them, they're probably not going to keep the lesson in their head for long," comes a voice heavy with irony, eerily disembodied. There's a rustle of cloth from a nearby maze of pipes, and a furitive motion flows over darkly illuminated catwalks overhead. The shadowy originator of the voice doesn't make himself seen, at least, not yet, though there's an oppressive sense of being 'watched' coming from many directions at once. If there's any awareness of Pamela's infiltration into the facility, though, it's not shown.

The figure, too, was standing on the catwalk. Her grip solid even as the trio swing about, inching closer to the vats. Watching them begin to close, she continues allowing the businessmen to lower. "They don't have to remember personally. Someone else will. I was just going to let them drown, seems the Shadow of your City has decided that decapitation would work well, too." Smirking behind her mask, the rate at which the tree fall increases.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" "SAVE US!!!" "COM'ON! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!" The me shrill-screech out as their bodies start to drop like stones in water toward the closing vices of heavy metal covers, and an acidic bath beyond that. Whatever feeling of foreboding that the shadow granted his victims, it seems to be lost on the dark clothed figure in jet and violet.

There's another something in the room as well. Soft, glowing lights of red that flare bright, then die, bright, and die, blinking on and off, slowly at first, but then they begin to move faster. How many there were was up to anyone's guess.

Somewhere in the dark, drawing closer now, Ivy was aware. Green whispers of her eyes and ears extending through the facility letting her know that she's not alone in her endevours. Curious. Advancing forwards, another hidden bystander yanked from the shadows with a startled noise before a heavy thump silencing their terror as the woman steps out into the open area, several of those smaller vines starting to weave together into a larger tendril she sits herself down on.
Carried into the opening, the redhead villainess clears her throat, tilting her head to one side with laughter carrying all the tones of her allure. The sweet scent of her pheromones already begins to leak into the air, mingling into the chemical aroma. "Well…this is rather strange to look in on," she comments, "please though…don't stop on my account."

Lurking in the shadows as he does, Batman eyes the angles and approaches, and waits for a moment when this new intruder's eyes flicker into other, less useful darkness, away from his position. He flicks batarangs into the air with a skillful motion borne of long familiarity, the weapons marking a silent arc through the chemical floor and smacking firmly into the pulley system with a loud *CLANK*, effectively jamming the ropes— perhaps just long enough to buy the men some time to avoid a horrible fate.

The lenses of his mask flicker through a multispectral analysis— low-light, infrared, thermal, UV— creating a composite image for his eyes, trying to mark down what possible signal might be coming from the low, flashing red lights. Simultaneously he analyzes the stranger's movements, motions, manners, 'marking' her with the lessons learned at the feet of Ra's al Ghul himself years ago. Noting anything and everything that her posture and attitude might convey. Which is, admittedly, frustrating little. Batman scowls.

Then Pamela Ivy walks into the room on a vine, and his teeth grind a little. That's just adding a new layer of complication to the mix. He checks that the filter plugs in his nose are still in place, a bit self-consciously.

He takes a gamble and employs one of his most effective tools in his arsenal— psychology. "I don't care what she's been dumping into the river, Pamela," Batman calls, guessing easily Poison Ivy's intents here. "You can't kill her for it. I won't let you."

"I don't think she's here to kill me, Batman." The ninja explains rather flatly. "I'm not the dumper. These men are." She explains releasing her grip on the rope now that it is no longer needed. "You forget where you come from, Bat. These men must suffer for what they're putting their world through. She's our mother, and her children must protect her." Pressing off the rail of the catwalk, the girl flips fluidly through the air, and with a quick movement, the width of rope weakens, and cuts. Before log, its fibers snap, snap, snap, before the last grip fails, and the men start flying fast toward the closing vat. Death was pending, either by liquid poison or blunt force trauma.

Without another sound, the ninja lands in a squatting position and moves with the same whisper like silence toward the dark herself. Two could play at this game.

Ivy's not moving, but the same can't exactly be said for her plants. Subtle and making use of the shadows themselves, the heavy industrial metals quickly starting to get matched by sweeping layers of green flora that only adds to Ivy's danger. Of course she's not making use of it yet, apparently entertained by the 'show' in front of her. The woman stretches, lounging back on the 'couch-vine' in a way almost an echo of a certain feline Gotham siren. "The girl is right Batman, I'm not here for her…just how many women have you wronged to the point of murder?" Amusement still heavy in her voice she's rather impressed by the sudden movement of the mystery woman. She was almost moving like another 'bat'. Almost.

"You Batman, I didn't come here for either…but I'd be glad to kill you for what you did to my home. Stay out of my way and play with your new friend. We'll settle our scores another night…"

Unseen by the pair, Ivy's words aren't just simple chatter. With so much going on it might be difficult to notice that a certain group of vines were moving with a very particular purpose.

"Sure. You just /happen/ to be here with three members of the local mob," Batman's disembodied voice says, carrying around the room with a strange echo. "Almost like you're trying to make a point about how they're not doing their jobs."
"Vats of chemicals, scary deaths, something that leaves a message that only local mobsters are going to see? That's not exactly putting the screws to Roxxon, is it. How much is Falcone paying you?"

His voice echoes and resonates to the point that only a keen ear would be able to place the source of it— possibly coming from near a large stack of heavy drums, filled with various chemicals prepared for shipping out.

Which is also why Batman's standing slightly away from that stack, cloaked in shadows, and throwing his voice with uncanny precision to lure the assassin out.

"No wonder this city has fallen when it's greatest 'defender' is so dense." The ninja murmurs gently, not drawing herself closer to the Bat by any means. The creeping vines are lost to her current focus, as her back presses against mental, and more shadows swallow up her position.

Screaming, all the way down, the noises of the three men are quickly silenced with a heavy 'splash' as their drop has finally reached its end. Thrashing with woven together legs is hard enough, not to mention they were upside down and their panicked, gaping mouths, and flaring nostrils all but welcome the toxin into their throats, lungs and stomachs. The machines turning the gears continue their job as well, closing the massive vats up tightly.

"Maybe this will be a good message for you, too, Batman. What will they do when you have crossed that line?" She questions out, finally moving from her spot to another location.

"Well!" Ivy exclaims, her smooth tone holding all of that joy and amusement of before but something else as well. Whatever she'd been doing was ready to go. "As lovely as this has been I have places to be…and it stinks in here." With that, the plant-controller makes a flick of her wrist and those vines that had snared the vats suddenly surge with a violent sound of shrieking metal. It had taken time to make the vines strong enough, to coat them with what she needed.

The tanks being ripped open in an almost 'peeled bananna' fashion shows at least one thing, Zillah and Ivy weren't strictly working together. It seems it had just been poor luck for the Dark Knight that the had both turned up. The tanks themselves are left to resemble plant-like parodies of shreaded metal as the chemicals (and hapless victims) they'd contained are spilled out on the floor and begin to flood the room.

It's loud, but a stranger sound begins to get louder: a fizzing noise.

Where the chemicals spilled onto the growing network of small vines the plant life was beginning to react…the room was getting hotter due to a rather potent chemical reaction. Ivy wasn't going to rip the building down, she was going to -melt- it and anyone left inside in their own goop. Before her change, she'd been a brilliant bio-chemist for a reason! It seems however, she's not sticking around to watch as several other vines tear at the roofing, her 'couch' vine starting to carry her upwards to escape.

Batman makes some fast decisions. Two on one is an unfavorable fight for even the Dark Knight— the strange ninja an unknown, and Ivy has had more than enough unsupervised time to get in and wreck her havoc inside the building. It'd potentially be an environmental disaster all its own, but at least it's likely that she's taken some measure to prevent it from hitting the groundwater.
Two gallon jugs of a simple starchy carbohydrate used to neutralize some compounds fly into the air from the shadows, and each explodes with a *puft* in midair, spraying sugar everywhere.

Trusting his air filters to protect him from the fumes, Batman waits a two count for the chemicals to react to the nitrates on the ground, creating dense, thick smoke. He plunges into the mists and dashes for the injured men, tossing one over his shoulder and grabbing the other two by an ankle and wrist, respectively, and trying to haul them out the doors ahead of the surging tide of chemicals on the ground as it converts from cleaning solution to acid.

Zillah growls behind her mask once the vats go, and the men are stolen from her goal. Even as their bodies leave the building, and they hack and cough up gunk that was never intended to be ingested, they were at high risk of safety. If, if, they were taken to a medical facility. With a toss of metal against metal, the ninja creates a spark that only compounds to the damage happening in the building. The product, along with the building itself wouldn't only melt, but also, burn.
Climbing on the vines to kindly left behind, she, too, exits and ventures into the night.

Batman's guess was right in a way, when the chemicals finally reduce the building to melted materials (that which wasn't burned up by Zillah's explosion) and starts to seep towards the lake-side they'd roll over a barrier of moss so thick it might just be a hedge. The moss itself doesn't bubble, but the chemicals themselves that had so viciously reacted to destroy swiftly begin to settle as chemical bonds are broken and reforged. The harsh chemicals are neutralized, harmlessly reduced to water…mostly harmlessly, for when the excess hydrogen seeps into the air the pillar of flames would shoot high enough to be seen from half the city's windows. It's enough to make one hell of a statement and leave a smile on Ivy's lips. An unexpected touch from the mystery ninja.

While Zillah makes her escape, it might just escape her notice for her time, the small crust of moss that clings to her boot.

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