DC's Path of Ruin: Book I

March 27th, 2015 - Part 3

Day 100 - March 27th, 2015 : Night - Around 10:30 PM (Civic City, Pennsylvania)

Pamela kept herself hidden in the small park, keeping with the small evergreens here. The Green nestled in her, coming more than from her heart - her womb. She could feel The Green blooming inside the child within her and if she closed her eyes - focused - she could hear the harmony their vibrations made as they both channeled The Green. It was serine, and she hid herself further from Ravager - knowing that one of the worst things done to her was now bringing her some of the most profound happiness. Extremes of hatred could not endure extremes of joy, they clashed violently within her - and yet- there were times where she stared at the van knowing who laid in it.

The nature divinity kept herself swayed by the thought loneliness was what drove her to look and stare at the black van she had been trapped in for the last few months. That, despite her distaste for humankind - the spots that held love for Harleen, still needed someone to fill it. Harleen had picked the Joker, and Dick fell from whatever grace she had raised him to be in both their eyes.

Pamela denied her humanity.

But she stared, the glossy black paint dull in its reflection of the moon. Her fingers caressing the tree she lay with, scratching carefully over its bark with her nails - a touch wanting to be soft, wanting to hurt - unsure.

Why hadn't she tried to run away? Because the collar she wore, the one that allowed the coolness to keep her thoughts flowing, had a tracker in it - she told herself. Never had Lex, or Ravager said the collar had a tracker - but it was easily assumed. That was why she hadn't ran - she needed that to be the reason she ran otherwise there could only be one thing left for herself: loathing.

"...Grant..." Ivy whispered, holding tighter to the tree - blending in with it if her body could. Her voice had been too quiet, never reaching the slid down window. The red, succulent lips of the Green beauty pulled in. Loathing and curiosity pumped through her. "...Grant..." Ivy said louder this time. The brown haired assassin looked out of the window of the van, looking toward where she was assumed to be laying.

"Yeah?"

Ivy said nothing, her come hither eyes nervously stared at his face, till she turned away - hiding her frame with the layers of red hair she had. Her arms held loosely to the tree she was leaning against. Grant watched her, the look on her face making him uncertain. The fact that she even used his name made him a little uneasy, but he still found himself getting out of the van. He couldn't help but feel like he was walking into some kind of snake pit as he approached her. He stopped a good couple of feet away and sat on the ground. He wasn't sure at all of what to say to her, so he just sat and watched her for a moment.

Holding her breath, Poison Ivy held her silence, taking in the sounds of his steps. By the time he had come, the flowers of her hair grew outward from her arms and to the tree she was bound to. In a floral display of beauty, the vines came to slowly wrap themselves around the tree, bud, and bloom.

"To see....the White House...die...was one of the happiest moments of my life..." Ivy whispered. Grant nodded.

"Sign of changing times..." He mused. Pamela slowly nodded, stealing a catch of Grant and looked back to the bark, her face touching it. She could hardly breathe with him so close. He looked at her, a little confused and uneasy still, though he wouldn't let it catch on too much.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"No." Pamela said, tears streaming down her face, her limbs curling tighter to herself - flowers growing across the vines that wrapped down the shapes of her body. Grant watched the plants moving and changing. He didn't know what that meant.