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[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam gave a delicate little shrug. She had always represented her own work, for good or for ill. For one thing, her work was hers, and she wasn’t going to let anyone else take credit for it -- even if it was supposedly in her name. And for another, she typically did just fine on her own. Even without use of her pheromones, people tended to have trouble saying no to her. She could tell the young man sitting in front of her was no fool. Surely he had the capability to be charming, or at least get his point across. Enough, combined with any sort of talent, to be successful in business. Her thoughts could only lead back to one conclusion. There was something about Xander Wilde which was highly unusual, even for this strange city. She could only wonder what -- or who -- it was. “Yes, I’m sure she’s lovely,” she said, with a noncommittal smile. 

She smiled again as he commented on her research, this time more fully. “Yes, it is,” she agreed, tilting her head with another smile in his direction. She huffed, sitting up straighter. “Oh, yes,” she said. “Frankly, I think we would do better with a complete reversal. A handful of people and a vast amount of green.” She reached into the clutch purse sitting on her lap and pulled out a little notepad, fishing around for a pen. Pam wrote out her number and tore out the page with a quick flick of her wrist, folding it over and handing it to him. She smiled once more. “I hope we can work together, Mr. Wilde. I think it would be quite the partnership.”

She asked about his proxy and he glanced at her with a blank expression. Wondering if it really was all that odd to have a proxy attend business. He supposed he was at the very least, the only one in his industry who had one. Ecco had become so normalized to him that he dropped her name and position casually in conversations all the time. First with the detectives and then now with her. The woman he randomly started drinking with. He never would have dropped this much information about himself before but then again... he wouldn't have even left his bunker before. Something changed in him. Something fundamental. "My proxy. She's here. Perhaps I can introduce you to her later." He offered. Not bothering to look around for Ecco now. His full attention was still on her. There was a pull of a connection between them. A sort of... kindred spirit. She had a fire in her eyes, matching the colour of her hair. One that might burn as hot as his own.

"Interesting." He told her, leaning in a little. "Gotham has such a small public park. There should really be more green in this city... don't you agree?" Jeremiah asked. There was a lot of things he'd change in this city. There were too many people. Too much noice. He wanted it to look more like his bunker. With twists and turns and endless walls... his vision could include quite a bit of green too. Now that he was having a vision at all. Sure... there might be bloodshed and bombings in the meantime but it would be all to reach a goal... he could tear it all down and start anew. She could be an asset when rebuilding it all in his image. He could practically see it all now. The beautiful chaos of burning streets littered with bodies and severed limbs and the exquisite labyrinth it could become. Now... How do you ask someone to get on board with mass murder all for a better world? "Perhaps we could help each other after all... could I get your number, Miss?"

[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam had very little patience for others in general, but especially for fools -- and unfortunately, the preponderance of humanity seemed to be absolute morons. Which in turn meant her patience was tested on a regular basis. But Jonathan Crane was a brilliant man, one whose rich mind yielded unique ideas. She felt they had that in common. His area of expertise was different from hers, true, but it was so groundbreaking that most people failed to understand it or appreciate its significance. Like her own research. “Oh, water, please,” she said. She leaned back in her chair. “Did I tell you Frank has grown again? I think I could easily feed a grown man to him in one go.”

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 @plxntbasedbitch

Jonathan's relationship with Pamela was separate from his with many of the other Rogues. Where he tolerated most others, he found that he liked her. It had nothing to do with her pheromones (although he had so often watched men fall at her feet), instead having a basis in the respect he held for her mental strength. To say she had a fascinating brain was an understatement and perhaps in a different life he could have unraveled all the threads to the mystery at its core, but not now. "Tea? Coffee? Or do you prefer water?"

[plxntbasedbitch]

@riddlesman -- prompt from here

“I’ve missed your rants.” Pam smiled faintly as Ed finally took a breath, her fingers steepled together with her chin resting lightly against them. She supposed that he might not appreciate his long-winded speech being called a rant, but a rose by any other name was still an oration which had been going on for at least five minutes. She leaned back in her chair, tilting her head as she studied him. “So what has you all in a tizzy, really?” she said. “You’re awfully excitable, even for you. Did Batman solve one of your riddles again?”

[plxntbasedbitch]

A faint smile touched her lips as she saw his posture change. It seemed that the edge to her tone had struck home, although, comparatively speaking, she was far gentler with him than she usually was with men who irritated her. Was it her fault, though, that men tended to be so…well, irritating? When he apologized, she shrugged delicately, indicating that she had let it go. 

She let go of his hand. “Oh?” she said, as though the movements of Bruce Wayne actually interested her. “I hope he’s finding time to enjoy himself, at least. I assume he still works as hard as ever.” Another brief smile. She gave the plants another gentle caress, smiling with far more genuine warm as she watched them turn, so incrementally it could be from the hint of a breeze, toward her. “Oh, I work at the botanical gardens now,” she said. “They support my research.”

Alfred could have sworn the flower responded to Pamela's touch. It seemed to turn more vivid. The sun was terribly bright, though, so it was probably a trick of the light. He turned away from it when she corrected him, and straightened up a little. It sounded like she was scolding him.

"Oh," he said, taken aback. "Sorry, Doctor Isley. My mistake." He shook her hand firmly. Her grip was light, but he sensed something in her gaze. It wasn't dislike, but it wasn't exactly friendly either. She asked how Bruce was, and he noticed the sharpness in her tone. Of course, Bruce had given the boot, hadn't he? Blimey, was she still angry at that? Wasn't it bloody years ago? He kept his expression polite. "Mister Wayne is fine," he replied. "He's out of town on business for a few weeks. Due back any day now, actually." He paused, and searched around for a safe topic of conversation. After a moment, he said, "So, what do you do now, Doctor Isley?"

[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam smiled softly as she noticed the other woman reacting to her. She was used to people responding to her beauty in such a way, and though she often used it to her advantage when it came to ensnaring men -- with women, it was different. The attention of women felt like a caress, a gift. From men, of course, it felt like a burden; but considering men themselves were rather burdensome on society, particularly women in society, she supposed that wasn’t such a shock. In any case, the woman in front of her was stunning in her own right, and so Pam found herself smiling at her with a little more genuine warmth than she usually displayed. 

She rolled her eyes as the subject of the Falcones was broached. “Oh, the Falcones, hmm?” she said. “Sheep following an old fool.” There were almost certainly many people who would shrink from her words, warning her not to say them, but she simply didn’t care. “I’m surprised they still have any kind of pull here,” she said. “You would think someone would have toppled him by now.” Although she supposed that wasn’t for lack of trying. She smiled and shrugged. “I don’t mind,” she said. “Though it’s hard to imagine you don’t have plenty of friends. You must lure people in like a siren.” She smiled at her again in return. “Pamela.”

Dinah glanced up at the redhead and she had to admit, she was taken aback. She had to admit she was beautiful in a way that would make you stop and stare. Even Dinah wasn't immune to it as she felt her mouth fall open slightly and no words came out. It still took a moment for her to register that the woman actually had spoken to her before she shook her head and cleared her throat.

"Just some contract to perform at his club." She said, raising the paperwork flippantly. "Something to do with the Falcones. Don't know much about them other than what I have heard at other clubs. Didn't think they were such low ballers." Dinah huffed as she glanced back down at the paperwork. "I'm sorry to just unload on you. You don't get many friends who stick around in Gotham though." A sigh escaped her before she looked up and smiled. "I'm Dinah."

[plxntbasedbitch]

@thejokerswilde -- from here

“Oh?” Pam said, tilting her head and studying the younger man with a steady gaze. “My mistake.” A faint smile touched her lips, and she shrugged. “Though your brother does make for interesting reading,” she said. “He does have…” She paused, as though searching for the right words. “A flare for the dramatic.” To say the very least. “To be honest with you, I usually find that kind of energy to be rather grating. Subtlety is a lost art, I think.” True, sometimes her own methods took her beyond simplicity, but that was just because she often dealt with dunderhead CEOs who only cared about consequences when their lives were at stake. On top of which, Frank had to eat.

[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam often stayed late at work, purely for the pleasure of being around green and growing things, which she’d always considered to be better company than anyone else. She had her own keys to lock up, and it was common knowledge that she was often the last one there. It also didn’t hurt that the Gardens were certainly the best place to continue her research. Research which she wasn’t too keen on anyone else being privy to, at least not yet. She didn’t think people would really understand what she was trying to do. And, in any case, she wasn’t the type of person to share easily. 

She hadn’t given the woman seated on the bench much thought. It wasn’t so late in the day that the Gardens were turning away visitors, although Pam fortunately wasn’t on the public side of things as much as her other coworkers might be. But the way the woman was muttering under her breath drew Pam’s attention. She didn’t flinch when the woman caught her staring. “What sort of deal?” she asked, and smiled faintly. “And what’s his name? The man who screwed you over?”

@plxntbasedbitch

Dinah just had a meeting that could be no less described as disastrous. She had to admit her schedule was starting to get full. Her job took her into the late hours of the evening, then donning a mask, leather, and fishnets to the early hours of the morning. It was all catching up with her. The last meeting was discussing rates and what not and it was a game of back and forth until Dinah took the last offer to think it over. She wasn't planning on taking it. She needed to pay rent still.

Dinah turned and took a shortcut into the Botanical Gardens. Gotham could be a bit of a cesspit in the media but it had its places and its moments. The gardens for instance always seemed to be in some sort of bloom. Taking a seat on a nearby bench, Dinah pulled out the paperwork and flicked through it again, tutting to herself. Her eyes meeting another, Dinah offered an awkward but polite smile as she realized she was muttering to herself. "Sorry, just had someone try and screw me over with a deal."

[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam glanced up at the sound of the man’s voice, which struck her as vaguely familiar. It took her a moment to place him -- she hadn’t worked at Wayne Enterprises for years now, and Alfred Pennyworth hadn’t been particularly significant on her radar. She gently brushed her fingertips across the petals of the blue vervain, the colors becoming more vibrant under her touch. A shaft of sunlight fell over her shoulder; it could have been responsible for the change in hue, but she could feel it responding to her, like a kitten sprawling in the sun and basking for attention. 

“Doctor,” she corrected without hesitation, straightening up from her attentive hunch over the wildflowers. “I remember.” She shook his hand, though her grip was light and perfunctory. Pam brushed a strand of copper hair out of her eyes, looking over at him. “How is Master Wayne?” she said, though her tone was a little dry. She hadn’t forgotten Bruce’s response to her attempt to boost advertising revenue at Wayne Enterprises.

starter for @plxntbasedbitch

Alfred didn't tend to talk to total strangers, but there was something about this woman that was familiar. Blimey, his memory wasn't what it used to be. He squinted at her, but until he spoke to her, it was impossible to say. She was standing off the side of the path, examining the wild flowers. He slowed down, and came to a halt, and it clicked. Miss Isley. She used to work at Wayne Enterprises. He'd met her at a few social gatherings Master Wayne had thrown. Bloody hell, when was that? Years ago.

"Miss Isley?" he said gently, trying not to startle her. "You probably don't remember me. We met a couple of years back." He smiled, and held out his hand for her to shake. "Alfred Pennyworth. I work for Master Wayne."

[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam glanced over at him as he turned away from her, now more convinced than ever that there was something odd about him. Not that she was one to talk, of course. A skin condition as a child, which her father had used as an excuse to keep her indoors -- followed by a gift in the form of a terrible accident, one that had transformed her into someone truly extraordinary. She knew better than most that the face one offered the world was only akin to the true self by sheer force of will, if not active delusion. Whatever mysteries lurked behind the young man’s eyes were his own to tangle with. Although…she had the distinct feeling that they were birds of a feather, despite her tendency to eschew human company. Would he, too, gladly watch the inhabitants of Gotham, of the world, burn if it meant he had achieved his heart’s desire? 

“Your proxy?” she repeated, arching an eyebrow as she took a sip of her drink. She wondered why he didn’t attend to business himself -- and why he lived in a bunker of all places. As much as Gotham resembled the Wild West on methamphetamines, it wasn’t so inherently dangerous that one really needed to live underground like a mole for protection. Unless, of course, there was a more specific reason to hide, to send a proxy to take care of business instead of simply attending. What was he hiding from? Or -- more likely -- who? And why? She sat up a little straighter at his questions. “Advanced botanical biochemistry,” she said, and smiled faintly. “My research focuses on accelerating the growth and increasing the longevity of plant life.” Which was true. Years ago.

"That's it. There's truth in jest." Jeremiah mused back, shooting her a pleased smile that she understood what he meant. She seemed to be watching him curiously, and Jeremiah figured she'd picked up on something unusual about him. Did she realize that he was wearing a mask? That everything about him was a blatant lie? He blinked his eyes, a bit irritated by the coloured contacts that were hiding the new unnatural hue. Turning his face away from her as he did so. It was like he could still feel the stinging from the spray. His glasses had done nothing to shield them from the chemicals. His skin tickled and burned until it finally chilled for what now seemed like forever. He had to remind himself that whatever that spray had done to him; it was only cosmetic. He was still sane. He was still nothing like Jerome. He was better than Jerome.

She called him Mr. Wilde, and told him it was a pleasure and he looked back to her. Concluding that she hadn't seen passed the mask at all. Of course she hadn't. No one seemed to see him. Not even his beloved Ecco. "I suppose I could have my proxy reach out." He decided. "My generator would help the environment. I have it working. It powers my Bunker without issue. It's only the replication and distribution of it that I need assistance with." He told her. "No, I didn't think you would be. With how little this city cares about anything but money." He said with a sigh. Grabbing his glass and taking a drink from it. The longer he sat with her, the more he felt an odd connection to her. There wasn't many women that he found genuinely attractive- both in personality and looks but somehow she was. Which was only odd because of how numb he was feeling since the spray. There was something odd about this woman. Something unnatural he couldn't place. Maybe she was wearing a mask too? "Can I ask about your research? Just what do you study?"

[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam shrugged her shoulders, a soft, contemptuous huff leaving her lips. “To show off,” she said. “I’m sure she feels very regal.” She rolled her eyes in a clear indication of how she felt about that particular fashion choice. “Never mind that it could potentially be inconvenient for anyone else.” She glanced down at her dress, frowning. More than the stain, which was admittedly negligible, it was the smell. “What on earth was she drinking?” she said, more to herself than the woman in front of her. “It smells like acetone.” She shot a mildly interested glance at her companion. “And you are?”

Koriand'r was perceptive, so of course she noticed how the other redhead clenched her fists. She bit her lip a little, a nervous gesture. She wasn't here to make enemies. But then, the woman calmed herself a little and Kori relaxed too. She smiled to try to ease the tension. "Yes, I am not sure why someone wore a gown with a train to this sort of event." She glanced back at the gown in question behind her, but the woman had already moved along, uncaring about the people she affected.

[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam shrugged. “There’s truth in jest,” she said. Her head tilted slightly as he smiled at her, gaze focusing on him with a scientist’s eye for detail. Earlier, she had considered him to be rather nervous, from the way his gaze bounced around the room. But now she was wondering if he was simply watchful, waiting. There was something about his mask of a smile which made her think there was something more to him than met the eye. That was also true about her, though; she was vaguely interested, wondering what he might be hiding, but not enough to pry. There were bit players all over this city who thought themselves to be the star attraction, many of them in this room. It was entirely possible he was one of them. “A pleasure, Mr. Wilde,” she said. 

She smiled a little as he spoke. “I do,” she said. “They don’t really earn much else, with the exception of a very few.” She raised her eyebrows, her interest in him -- or at the very least, his work -- lifting as he went on. “No, I’m not surprised,” she said, as he discussed not being able to find very much funding for the project he described to her. “Have you spoken with the botanical gardens? Of course, we do plenty of environmental research. Our work might dovetail with yours in this case.” Another faint smile touched her lips. “We aren’t flush with funds ourselves, unfortunately, but perhaps we could help each other in any case.” Of course, when it came to her own research, she certainly wasn’t going to share that; but the botanical gardens themselves were a different story. She snorted lightly as he spoke. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. Your train of thought isn’t new to me.”

"There's an ounce of truth in every story. Or... is that what they say about jokes?" Jeremiah pondered out loud. Reaching up to cup his chin in thought. "It hardly matters." Was what he finally decided, waving it off. "I suppose so. People can be cruel." Jeremiah faintly agreed. Listening as she continued. She believed most people to be shallow and he always thought them less shallow and more ignorant. Their eyes weren't open, as his was. They were stumbling buffoons in the dark. They held onto money and social status as though it mattered. Blind to what really mattered. To all they could be if they just let go. He gave her a smile back. Curving his lips into a smile that was too sickly sweet and unassuming to be genuine. "Ah, I see. I'm sorry you had to be here, Dr. Isley." He offered, "I'm Xander Wilde. I'm a structural and electrical engineer."

"You seem to have a lot of distain for people and I certainly don't disagree with it. The Rich especially can be incredibly selfish. I'm on the verge of finishing my latest project. Which would make power clean and virtually without cost. As you can imagine, I haven't been able to get much funding for it. The project would completely disrupt the current system that's in place and it wouldn't make much of a profit. It would lower the over all cost of living and the people in power wouldn't like that. Thus, no funding. What I'm trying to say is, they don't care about mother Earth or the people that walk among her. They only care for themselves." He finished before taking another sip, "But enough of that... This is a party after all. I don't want to make you miserable."

[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam offered a brief smile, a little chuckle of her own falling from her lips. “I’m sure they would, too,” she agreed comfortably, with a little shrug. Her own beauty had never been a shy subject for her; she had no problem admitting it. Now a half-shrug lifted one shoulder, a lazy movement designed to indicate this was so obvious, it barely necessitated an actual response. “What politician in this town isn’t?” she said. “You’d sooner kick over a rock and find it clear of any bugs. Turn over someone like the mayor or any judge in this city and find a gangster.”

The other woman's reply was so startling that Ecco actually laughed -- an uncharacteristically genuine, warm, sound. "I'm sure a lot of people would enjoy seeing that," she said, her eyes shining. The other woman lowered her voice, and Ecco leaned in a little, conspiratorially. She did not care what this woman's political opinions were, of course, but it wouldn't do Jeremiah any good if she was overheard loudly discussing the mayor's ineptitude. "Isn't it obvious?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "He's a puppet. A mouthpiece."

[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam shrugged languidly, looking at the young man at her side. “You said it yourself,” she pointed out. “It’s myth. How many myths do you know that are factual? Myths are stories.” She gave another shrug, wrapping her slender fingers around the stem of her glass as she lifted it to her lips again. “First impressions only matter so far as you allow. You could be dressed to the nines, and someone would still have reason to belittle you.” She glanced around dismissively. “Especially these shallow idiots. Not one of them cares about the things that actually matter.” A faint smile lightened her face at his observation, and she shrugged again. “I’m considering it a work party,” she said. “My superiors asked that I come.” She offered another brief smile. “Dr. Pamela Isley,” she said. “From the Gotham Botanical Gardens.” 

She let her gaze take another trip around the room, her lip curling. “No, I’m not,” she agreed. “People are stupid, avaricious creatures that have absolutely no respect for the planet. Even when they say they do, it’s just to make their brands more appealing.” Most people listening to her would say she’d climbed on her soap box, but she didn’t care. It was the truth, even if it was unpalatable for some. “It’s all performative.”

"I'm not sure you're entirely right about that." Jeremiah paused, "You know what they say about first impressions. According to myth they're very important and this happens to mark the first time I've left my bunker on purpose in... six years, really." He said to her. "So this will be a lot of people's first impression of me." Maybe he should have debuted as the man he was becoming and not the one he had been for most of his adult life. He could still take a napkin and wipe away his facade... but what fun would that be? No. He needed something much grander. Something much more becoming of him then a party thrown by the mayor. Gotham would have to wait to see his true face and he'd make sure that wait was worth it. "I'm not. It's not really my thing." He told her, finally glancing her way. Another ginger. She seemed older than himself and jaded. He cocked his head at her. "I'm sorry to say, but this doesn't look like your kind of thing either. You stick out just as much as I do."

She certainly didn't look like she wanted to be there talking to him right now but that hardly mattered. If he were to suffer at this party waiting for the auction- then she could suffer talking to him. It was only fair after all. He sipped his drink again before placing it back on the bar beside him. "Not much of a people person, are you? I can relate."

[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam pressed her lips together to keep from shouting in frustration, her fingers curling into fists. She glanced down at her dress. It was a deep green, suiting her hair and her fair skin, and she had to admit that -- after the first wave of anger passed -- it wasn’t so serious. The material was dark enough that the stain barely showed, unless you knew to look for it, especially considering the attempt at elegant mood lighting which blanketed the room. “It’s fine,” she said, though her jaw was still tight with irritation. She forced herself to loosen her fingers and let her hands fall to her sides, a soft huff leaving her lips. “Did you trip?” It was an inane question, but it helped to soften her annoyance.

Koriand'r made her way around the crowd, wandering aimlessly as she searched for-- well, she was not sure what she was searching for. A friend to speak with, perhaps? Or maybe she was watching for trouble. She approached a server and took the fruitiest drink on the tray. The glass was tall and filled with a pink liquid. Strawberries and raspberries floated among the ice cubes. Koriand'r took a sip and grinned at the sweet taste with the hint of heat that followed. The girl moved to go through the crowd again but she tripped over the unusually long train of someone's gown and spilled her drink all over the person in front of her. "X'Hal's light, I apologize profusely, I am not usually so careless."

[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam didn’t hesitate to roll her eyes in immediate response to the woman’s question, glancing over at her. “The day a politician keeps his promises to his constituents, I’ll ride naked through the streets like Lady Godiva,” she said dryly. She brushed a lock of Titian hair behind her ear and shook her head. “And in any case, that man is a fool. It would be an insult to jellyfish to say he’s spineless.” She kept her voice low, knowing it wouldn’t exactly be beneficial for too many people to overhear her. Normally, she wouldn’t give a damn, but she was here as a professional, after all. But considering the question the other woman had posed, Pam didn’t think she was in any danger of blabbing to anyone who might be a detriment. 

Ecco had attended countless events like this over the years. She knew how to spot who to shake hands with, who to smile at, who to flirt with a little. This was exactly like every other event she would have attended as Jeremiah's proxy, and she knew what he expected of her. She was to act like she always did -- greet strangers and acquaintances as if nothing had changed, when, in fact, everything had changed for Jeremiah, and, by extension, for her.

So, Ecco picked up a glass from a waiter's tray and sipped it casually. She addressed the person next to her, looking up at the podium where Mayor James had made his speech. "How long do you think it'll be until he follows through on those promises he made?"

[plxntbasedbitch]

Pam normally detested events like this. The wealthy drains society were all caught together in one room, like so many flies trapped under a glass bowl, drawn there by the stench of rot. And this city was rotting, whether or not its citizens were aware of it. Humanity itself was rotting, and had been for a long time. It was sometimes difficult for her to hide her contempt for her fellow man. She held herself above the rabble now; she was, after all, blessed with certain gifts. The thought, the irony of it all, made her smile to herself as she sipped her drink. It only proved that men really were fools, even when they appraised their own intelligence so highly. She took a glance around the room, her lip curling ever so slightly. She was here as Dr. Isley, at the request of her employers at the Gotham Botanical Gardens. If her job hadn’t been crucial to her new research, she certainly wouldn’t have come. 

The voice which reached her ears wasn’t the first to trouble her tonight -- men tended to bother a lone woman sitting at a bar, especially one who looked like her -- but she spared the young man a glance as he spoke. “And?” she said, with a delicate shrug of her shoulders. “Very few people here tonight have the fortitude to care about anyone except themselves. They’ll hardly care how you dress by tomorrow, if they even care tonight.” She took another sip of her drink, giving him another glance. “You don’t seem the tuxedo type, at any rate,” she observed coolly. The way his gaze darted about the room reminded her of a rabbit kit flushed from the coney, as if he expected a predator to swoop down at any moment. Then again, living in a city like this, she supposed he wasn’t too far off the mark.

Jeremiah's eyes darted around the room. He wasn't used to just how loud people could be. The crowd's chattering and roaring laughter... the way the streets bustled with people just outside of the city hall's doors. He could hear the unfamiliar sounds of the city underlining all of it. It had been 6 years at the least since Jeremiah had been surrounded by this many people on purpose. He wouldn't have even dreamed of coming out to an event like this one. Only a couple of weeks ago, he might have even considered it a death sentence. Oh, how quickly a cute little celebration like this could turn into a massacre. How swiftly could the walls be painted red by one careless, manic little clown? This was Gotham after all. It was like he'd left one circus only to live in a much bigger and bloodier one.

So why didn't he feel scared anymore?

Jeremiah brought his drink up to his lips and sipped it. Quietly observing everyone else as he sat at the bar. The citizens were dressed up in their finest attire but he'd come in one of his dozens of brown suits. "Hmn..." He hummed quietly to himself. Maybe he needed a new look? A new look for a new him. He was dressed as he'd always been only now he had to wear makeup, gloves and contacts just to appear normal. "Suddenly I feel a little underdressed." He said, half turning to the person beside him. "Everyone's so... fancy."

[plxntbasedbitch]

pamela isley

Is that [Riley Keough]? No, that’s [Pamela Isley], AKA [Poison Ivy]! [She] appears to be [35]. [She] has the abilities of [cholorkinesis, pheremone control] which makes them a powerful [villain].

Pam believes in plant supremacy -- when it comes to nature itself versus human nature, the former is supreme and deserves to be ascendant over the puling creatures which have not only subjugated it, but abused it, for so long. She has dedicated herself and her formidable arsenal of skills to defending the Green, at whatever cost. If a few corrupt politicians and selfish CEO’s lose their lives in the process, that really isn’t such a loss, is it? In Pam’s view, they should have considered what their policies and companies were doing to the environment -- it’s fitting, really, if their remains end up feeding the loam of the forest. It’s the first and only time they have contributed anything to the world. 

She inherited her love of flora and fauna from her mother, who turned to gardening in order to comfort herself in the face of an abusive marriage. Pam’s experiments with pheromones began in college, from which she graduated Summa Cum Laude despite handing out pheromone pills just to test their effects. From there, she worked for Jason Woodrue as she pursued her doctorate, only for him to turn her devotion to his cause into a terrible tragedy. Because of Woodrue’s failed experiment, she woke from a coma to find that her blood was chlorophyll, her sweat was poison…and the pheromone pills she’d handed out in college were old hat compared to the powers she had now. In the intervening years, she’s utilized the powers Woodrue inadvertently gave her to become Poison Ivy, scourge of any foolish enough to cross the Green. 

personality: 

Intelligent, protective, independent 

Unforgiving, single-minded, violent 

oddities: 

Every time Pam’s father left a bruise on her mother’s cheek, he would bring home a new bulb or bloom for her garden. His father ended up taking her mother’s life, and is now under life imprisonment in Blackgate. 

While she was in college, Pam interned for Wayne Enterprises as a research assistant. She was let go when she presented research which would drive up his advertising revenue by 100%...for some reason, Bruce had a problem with the fact that it was a pheromone which would rob people of free choice. Buzzkill. 

She has a living, mutated Venus fly trap named Frank in her apartment. Sometimes, when people piss her off, she threatens to feed them to him. 

As her civilian identity, Dr. Pamela Isley, she currently works at the Gotham Botanical Gardens, and has started research into combining human and plant DNA. 

Because of the genetic mutation she underwent during Woodrue’s experimentation, in addition to her other powers, Pam will age slower and live longer than a regular human. 

goal: 

To protect plant life at all costs, and help the Green reassert its dominance over humanity 

sexuality (and pronouns): Lesbian, she/her

age: 35