Siren Reunion

March 21, 2017:

Ivy come to pay Catwoman a visit, and just in time to deliver her Kiss… And their call to reunite the Sirens.

East End - Gotham

The first impression of Gotham for many is East End, a district notorious
for it's poverty, crime, prostitutes and drugs. The lit up central strip at
night is colorful, bright and looks like something out of Las Vegas with its
innumerable gentleman's clubs, casinos, bars and strip clubs. The
downtrodden feel of East End has been glossed over by these glowing lights
and brilliant signs along with the towering cityscape of surrounding
districts, such as Otisburg, Burnley and to the north the Robert Kane
Memorial Bridge.

Along the East End's southern region the streets begin to be overtaken by
cobblestone alleyways, alleyways that web work throughout a rundown slum
city of shacks, sheds, makeshift homes and decrepit apartments called
Alleytown. A heavily populated district many immigrants and their
descendants call home.

Park Row aka Crime Alley rests upon the other side of the main strip,
dominated by an underdeveloped housing project called Scurvy City by the
locals (it's actual name being the Skirley Apartments), East End Free
Clinic, the Bowery, Tin Roof Club, Sheldon Park, Robbinsville and the GCPD's
9th Precinct.


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Harley Quinn Joker


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

If it's one thing that every villain in Gotham worth their weight in anything of, it's that Joker's anger is a fickle thing. One moment, he may just forget about it, the next, he's putting a bullet into someone's head. Catwoman did a hell of a number on his latest plan. Not only did she ruin his fun with Babs, but he turned Harley off like a switch.

And that, that just doesn't do. After taking care of Harley for a while, because the two of them are currently out of the country.. Joker called home and left instructions. Time to neuter the kitty. He's not in town. Can't be tracked back to him!

The Cat was watched. Followed. The woman was probably having a good night, having just completed a small heist, when the two goons pick up her trail. Finding her at the East End, one of them gets out of the car. "Here, Kitty, Kitty." one of them rumbles as they take out baseball bats and chains. They have instructions not to kill the Cat.. but to make her hurt.

After taking a bullet for Bats and having a Batman come to her rescue to remove it (and putting something else in its place unknown to her.. yet), Catwoman has been laying low. As low as a Cat can. She has habits to scratch, and the itch came only after a couple days. The lift of some precious pearls, a diamond tiara, and foreign notes all stashed in a safe she had slipped out just as quickly. No alarms triggered, no lights bearing down upon her. Easy peasy…

But as her form slipped from one roof to the other, drawing her back into her East End borders the car following below in maneuvers that were as erratic as her path, her eyes narrowed behind the goggles and just upon her borders she left rooftops and casually stepped from an alley, walking like the Cats she is, the light reflective off stitchworked body suit where a reinforced and boned corset to mate keeps along her abdomen, accenting and support, but with every slow step that whip at hip laps at the backs of thighs like a tail, teasing those multiple ends in tiny glistening beadwork, clicking their own herald of added weight.

The call brings her stroll to a pause, gloved hand rising as she turns toward the goons and wiggles her fingers in a rippling wave, but with every bend those barbed claws expose themselves. "Wrong side of town freak-shows."

A swift flick of opposing wrist and Catwoman is drawn upward, whip snapping to coil around a lamp-post and aid her to move towards them, but in a run along the side of a building before she kicks off and seek to land a kick to one in her descent!

"Nope, right place for us, wrong place for you, kitten. Message from our boss, take your claws out of his stuff." one of them says as she drops down on them. There's a solid kick to the man, knocking him to the car, sending him spiraling.

The other man steps in, swinging his bat hard at the woman to try to catch her in the side before she can spring away. From the car, a pair of two more men are exiting, these carrying machine guns, the tell-tale sound of the bullets being chambered as it seems that they're taking this far more seriously than the clown typically would.

The staccato of the rifles sounding out resonate down the hallway, and of the clown gangers steps through a bush, sending up another arc of fire towards the agile thief.

Catwoman did not end the kick on impact, she follows through, his impact hardened by the backing swing and momentum of her body, landing her with a dent upon the hood of the car as the older metal bows in beneath the landing weight. The crouched position makes it easy for her to spring back, a backflip carrying her up and over the one that comes at her with the bat, and while he swing batter-batters and she is midair his shoulders are gripped, claws buried within his skin, hooking just beneath where collar bones should be to give her anchor.

Catwoman's flip ends in a back bend, where when boots plant she seeks to keep moving, but the moving and using of force on top of the 'off balanced' goon she is using him as her catalyst, lifting and throwing him into the pavement before her feet if successful….

But bringing guns to a cat-fight? Tsk. A well known sound that has Catwoman running towards that car again and diving through the left-open door as the bullets resound off and penetrate the clunker, sliding her in one door of the front seat and out the other to spill into the street as the other two goons leave the back, but hopefully giving her enough time to draw smoke pellets from her belt and provide herself cover.

A quiet evening it all starts out to be, one in which Poison Ivy had decided it was high time to visit a friend. Recent work in her lab had kept her busy. Very busy. Enough that certain things had been missed, and it wasn't until she picked her head up and actually took a look at her calendar, she realized how much time had passed. Bad Ivy, bad!

And so decked out in her best outfit and heels, the green one exits her secret home within Robinson Park, and heads towards East End, meandering her way through alleys and byways, her passing touch to bring new life to wilting and neglected gardens and flowerboxes. Quiet conversations with this flower or tree to bring tidbits of information to her ears.

And yet it is the static sound of gunfire that has her attention whipping to the side, her footsteps to quicken. Coming up behind the two goons with guns, green eyes survey who the Joker's men are after, only to give a little hiss upon spying Catwoman diving into the car. The strips of ivy are pulled from her body, already uncurling, prepared to be tossed in their direction to curl tightly about them and hinder them using their guns further, "Didn't your mother teach you the proper way to entertain a lady??"

Catwoman is quickly back to her feet as the smoke billows out, using the car as a break point to send the white fog up and outward in multiple directions while that whip is gripped and slapped against the ground in a lightning's CRACK-SNAP of dual flicks. Just before she leaps to the roof of the car and the alternate flick of goggle lenses allows her to read body heat and signatures to see through the haze…

…Unexpected, those vines, that feminine form and the lifting of the goons that brings a cease to the gunfire. A sudden follow up and one of the goon's hands undergoes assault, splitting his skin as she rips the rifle from one hand, clatter-grinding it over the street's concrete and away, the second follow up doing the same as he seeks to bring the muzzle up and to the side to aim for Ivy, even if it would take out the other clown in her opposing grip.

Timing perfect because he cries out at the assault on his hand and the rifle fires an arch of bullets into the air as it is spiraled and ripped from his grip to leave it with the other in the streets and amidst the smoke plume.

"Look who their mentor is. Doubtful." A pause as that silhouette of svelte outline creeps through the smoke to reveal before her friend, the light smile still bearing the serious undertone.

"Look what the Nature drug in."

"True, he does not seem to learn very well, time and again, the lessons offered to him. " Poison Ivy says with a light tsk given to the two goons. With their guns pulled from their grasps, the two are left hanging there, ivy tightening more and more about them with each passing second, cutting off their ability to draw in very deep breaths, leaving them gasping.

As Catwoman appears through the billowing smoke, Ivy smiles to her friend, laughing huskily then, "I figured I would come out to play, and didn't realize you had such fun already planned." With but a thought, the goons are given a little shake by the ivy, "Still want to play with these two or… shall we leave them outside his door like a little gift?" You know the sort of gifts that cats like to leave, right?

Ivy dangled the clowns before her like feathers while playing herself, and Catwoman only smiled as she steps closer, each hand rising, a thumb crooked as her gloved hands take each ones face and streak marks across their cheeks, dimpling into flesh and leaving a bloodied tear to fall from each slip of opening upon their features, fingers splay and clawed hands palm the faces, drumming the other barbed tips over their scalps in thought, leaning upon them while centered before Ivy.

"It has been a while friend. I figured exercise before dinner. They're not edible." A flare of nostrils as she gets Ivy's innuendo and reciprocates it. "They came with chains and two other dogs over there unconscious. Let's let them drag these two back nice and wet, a little chewed on and a lot broken."

Catwoman's return calling card is left on those two men, choked that even cries come out like pitiful gags beneath the serpentine twist of green, the claw upon face and the rejection over foreheads in tiny holes that would only befit stitch work dolls.

Dangle. Dangle. Twitch. Dance. Indeed like feathers are those clowns played before the feline, a tease to Catwoman's kitty senses to play. To have a little bit of fun while Ivy watches in pure delight. How she does enjoy seeing the Kitty so happy as she plays! Gives her the warm and fuzzies, ya know?

"I do not think even my plants would like them either… a pity.. such wonderful compost they would have made otherwise." Mention of others nearby has her attention sliding towards the collapsed forms of the other two that lie napping on the ground. "A good idea, though… do we wish them to actually live or not, once they carry their wet friends back home?" Such ideas float through her expression then.

Catwoman finishes her play, her markings and her lens covered gaze slides towards the unconscious forms with Ivy's, turning towards them with a hand pressed upon hip in contemplation. "We leave that up to how quickly the two get them home and freed."

A smile is cast sidelong to Ivy, only that single corner of lips curling up to her as she walks the twos way, a chain gathered into her grip and sliding heavily through fingers, unlike her whip but caressed the same as braided leather. As one man wakes and slowly starts to lift the chain is abruptly around his neck, matching the loving coil of Ivy's vines.

"I do so hate leashes, but it fits…" A tightening as she dangles opposing ends for Ivy to tether one of her captives to.

"If anything they will paint the streets on their way."
You paged Doctor Strange with 'Yup!'

Another half purr of laughter can be heard by the green woman as she listens to Catwoman's comment, "I like.." Indeed, the vines tighten a little more about the men they hold, getting them to still and allow the addition of leashes to be added about their necks.

"A leash on you, is a horrible thing. But on them…" Poison Ivy smiles even more, the tilt of her lips to hint at madness, "On them, it's beautiful." The idea painted in her head of the way the men will leave their own personal mark upon the street, has her grinning all the more, "Beautiful.."

"Want to leave your own mark?" A gesture as Catwoman leashes up the final goon to the other. Two by two… Crouching over the one she had road smashed her clawed grip lifts his face and the other proceeds to slap-slap scratch him awake and when they stand the weight of the two choked out gunmen chokes on them.

"Before I make them, *mush!*?" The whip unravels and slides its shadow across the pavement but from down the road two more motorcycles come forth, her own Alley Cat gang members that will be the personal escort all the way to the borders of the Mile.

Pausing to idle their helmet visors pull up, showing the trio of smaller marking scars below their eyes, but one bearing teardrops. Reformed gangs of other gatherings, strays that Catwoman made her own and hence why her claim on East End is strong. "I am sure you boys remember Ivy." Catwoman purrs, looking to her friend as her tone rolls and the smile spreads Cheshire. "Remember her welcome."

Poison Ivy laughs once more at the invitation, her hip-swaying steps soon to lead her to stand between the two that will drag the others home to their master. Crouching down, her gloved hand brushes against their cheeks, one each, "Oh, I think I shall…" Leaning forwards, her lips soon brought to the first man, a kiss given to him before she turns and offers the same to the second man. Green marks begin to appear radiating from their lips, a promise that they will likely die within a few hours or so. Plenty of time for them to get home with their buddies and to let someone know of their failure.

With others arriving, she rises to her feet, to cross closer to where Catwoman stands with her whip in hand, her own to trace a light touch across the other woman's black clad back, "Your turn, my dear one." To her Alley Cat members, she offers a polite nod of her red head.

Catwoman watches Ivy, her Alley Cats watching the slow creeping growth over two of the men's faces and their hands tighten on the handlebars of their bikes, the engines throttling. They get it. A nod in return to Ivy timed perfectly from each.

The caress of Ivy's along Catwoman's back has her looking sidelong to Ivy, the smile never faltering as she steps forward and the men standing are glaring while hands knot fingers around the chains at their throats. "Let your Prince know he can't keep her from us forever. He's going to run out of luck faster then I will my lives."

The whip is recoiled only to snap, a tandem of four in a 'Z' shaped motion of trained hand that lands the beaded ends of whips harshly over their back, opening fabric and welting if not rending skin.

"Now mush!" And with those words large taser sticks come from the Alley Cats hands, arching and when the goons start dragging at a fast pace they are prodded the rest of the way.

Turning back to Ivy Catwoman blows the woman a kiss, a finger curling to beckon her join. "Now, you mentioned dinner…"

Standing to the side, Ivy gleefully watches as Catwoman gives the message to the clowns before sending them upon their prodded way. A sigh escapes her then, tongue to lick daintily at her lips as if remembering the taste of fear from the men as she kissed them. Such a delightful flavor.

Once they are on their way with Alley Cats to push and prod them quicker along the streets, the green clad woman turns towards Catwoman, her smile warming further, "Indeed, I did. Your place, or mine?" Ever so innocently does she ask the question, though she continues to smile as she moves closer, "I can promise a most delicious meal no matter which you choose."

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