kate should have expected there’d be some resistance when asking ivy for help, especially knowing she is locked back into arkham any time she does assist the vigilantes in gotham. even kate thought that kind of treatment was nothing short of deplorable, not even a grace period or a get out of jail free card? damn.

“ it’d need a little more than a few leaves, ms isley. ” kate’s arms folded while she thought of a way to sweeten the pot for ivy, she wasn’t the type to drop her off in arkham. “ how about this, you help me: no cuffs, no asylum and i’ll owe you a favour. ”

pamela lilian isley. no governmental affiliations to note, but a name and abilities to flag - not many individuals in the world were classed as bioweapons. 

      “ it’s been at least thirty minutes, ”  ivy sighs,  fingertips tapping softly on the table,  “ I do hope we’re approaching some kind of point or I’ll be forced to ask for a bathroom break. ”

“some manners,”  asshole.

if eve’s staring, it’s because her me vs. the world score is at kicked in the balls. not that anyone here deserves an explanation.

ivy’s one of those people you always open your door for. the flowers up the path to your home seem to turn their faces upward as she walks, the roses and the tulips humming happily in warmth. this is a place where nothing bad is supposed to happen— a place of safety. but is that ever true?

you’re on the front steps, on the porch with the dogs milling about, descending steps to tentatively but excitedly approach your patient.

“did you bring the spring with you?” you ask, a smile on a particularly marred mouth. the scar is deep into the left side of your mouth, yet somehow it can’t dull how looking at her seems to add this automatic beauty to your face. the sky above you both is overcast, but the scent of the season and morning dew is all around. guinefort’s head is lower as he sniffs ivy, brushing blades of grass with careful paws, but his tail is wagging low.