Darkness was all around Gotham: death was no stranger here. The clouds hung low, darkening the sky, what dim light that came through was a dark grey like cold and aged steel. Rain poured from the heavens, the tears of angels weeping for the city's inhabitants. The cold bleak day matched up with the city, of every shade between black and grey, but rarely any actual color. The city was the embodiment of the future, yet at the same time, it was like living in the past, with very old and Gothic architecture as well as sleek new designs. And then there were the slums, a crowded and violent, yet unusually quiet place, were petty crime was not unexpected. And the city itself seemed liked it was a living, breathing and intelligent creature, with numerous secrets, and seeming to sometimes even talk with its own inhabitants. Yet in the darkness of it all shone a light, a beacon of hope, cast upon the dark and ominous clouds, being lite nearly every minute. What it was, it was a signal meant for one of the many things tucked away, hidden within the shadows of the city: Batman. And though he sometimes had help, Gotham would be no more with no Batman. Yet within the even darker abyss came an amount of the most macabre and sinister demons, sometimes insidious forces of all shapes, sizes, and desires. Batman has won a great many battles, but the war still rages on. The tall man looked out of the window of the old clock tower upon the city, observing the grey-lit city, all the little people that would, in the end, know true fear and fall to the darkness. The hooded figure turned his eyes to what lied behind him, focused onto numerous monitors that he had connected to the city. It was quiet, certainly more quiet than one would expect a clock tower room to be, what with all the churning and turning gears and cogs of large sizes. Hay and dust covered the floor, and chemistry equipment littered a few large tables. He was planning something, something big. He was already connected with some of Gotham's most elite criminals, but he still needed the help of a few others, including Joker. But dear Pamela was gone, as she disappeared one day to who knows where, and he was trying to figure out what to do there with that fact. But... everything would be good. Jonathan Crane could feel it.....
A strange man walked down the street, he strolled around aimlessly no goal in particular, nothing really stuck out about the man but something was off about him.
Zoey Thorne or Rose Thorn as she now referred to herself as. Was in the overgrown and abandoned Gotham botanical garden she now called home. She laid on a large leaf as vines massaged her shoulders and she worked on a plan for finding poison Ivy. She laid their pencil in hand as she thought. Though she had to remind herself to give the vines some extra organic compost for their fantastic massage skills.
The tall man turned to a small group of men, playing cards on an old round wood table, and spoke in his deep, smooth voice, putting on his over-coat and hat. "Keep an eye on the cameras. Let me know if there's anything interesting..." One of the men replied in a gruff voice. "Where you goin', boss?" "Looking..." The rain hit hard against the man's hat, and the man's dress-bots hit hard against the pavement. Towering over the people he walked, his height even turning a few heads, but he remained mostly unnoticed. His hat shadowed his face, he identity anonymous. He headed towards the botanical garden, believing that he could find some trace of evidence of Pamela. He waited outside the door for a moment, then when he saw that everything was clear, pulled out his hand. He used the needles on the tips of his fingers to pick the lock on the door, then -click!- the door was open.....
Rose Thorn hearing the click of the lock moved her up and pointed towards the door as vines shot out and wrapped tightly around Scarecrows arms and legs as they brought him over to her. Noticing that he wasn't the bat she offered a large leaf similar to the one she was lying on to the scarecrow. "Sorry about that, thought you were one of the bats. You are?"
Accch... The man seemed to not flinch, though his sore body ached, yet he stared inquisitively out from the darkness, but.... "...Pamela...?" The man looked inquisitively at the girl, though his face was still shadowed, the only evidence of any eyes were faint gleams on the surface of he retinas..... Beware the Court of Owls That watches all the time Ruling from a shadowed perch Behind granite and lime They watch you at your hearth They watch you in you bed Speak not whispered word of them Or they'll send the Talon for your head
"I am not Pam's. Names Zoey Thorne also known as Rose Thorn. Ex lead researcher on plant medicine now villain and partner in crime with Pam's. Thanks to her attacking where I worked and sealing me in a four leafed cell that secreted pheremones and toxins, my DNA fused with that of a plant's. So now I can control and speak to plants. Oh and I'm trying to find a way to find Ivy." I swivel off the plant and stand up, vines and leaves wrapping around my bare feet creating 5 inch high heels. "I'm guessing your that Scarecrow fellow."
The man proceeded to take his hat off:The stitches riddled he dark mask, his ghostly eyes looking towards the girl. "Guilty..." He sounded as if he had a vague accent, making his voice seem all the more ghostly, but controlled it well. He merely looked towards the girl. "...You're a very direct one aren't you? At least I'd be able to tell you from Pamela that way... and I'd probably be right to say that your a tad new on the streets...." His gloved hand went up to straighten his tie.
"Yep, so far I have done one major heist on the place I used to work for stealing just over half a million dollars. Spending it all on mine and Pamela's lovely plants. Whom I now fully understand the pain they suffer from pruning and being tested on and if I have my way soon every woman in gotham will be like me with men as our willing tools." She then turned to scarecrow and showed him the plans. "From what I understand, Pamela is in a solitary confinement cell in Arkham with only a wilting rose for company. Any idea's."
The man walked into the gardens finding his way into the same room as the others, giving a small chuckle to the scene we walked in on. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."
The man raised a brow as to his new acquaintance's description of her "way", but simply shrugged it off. He was one of the few men that was immune to the well known pheromones, slightly because of his adaption of his own fear gas, but mainly due to his schizoid mentality. (Schizoid simply means he's not interested. In anyone.) "Well, like a few other inmates I have my ways of getting in and out of Arkham without a problem. How Pamela has not been able to make one, I shall never know..." His sinister gaze was shrouded again by darkness. "I'm going by myself," He said as he walked towards the door. "I just needed to know where she..." The man found himself interrupted by the other man. He looked down upon the stranger, towering over. "...And you are?"
The man lowered his had, now chuckling on his own. "Ah... 'Tis the Jester, madder than Hatter and still yet at the top. But who am I? Aren't we all mad down here in this city?" He chuckled a bit more. "Come, let us speak as we walk. I have matters to attend to at Arkham."
Byte was upset. She leaned back in her hammock, her back aching. She looked out the stain glass window, and watched the rain. She placed a gloved hand on the window, and watched as the ice traveled up the abandoned church's walls.
As the pair of men exited the botanical garden. Rose Thorn gestured as a vine shut the door behind them. She then thought that perhaps it was high time she visited the church. She was christian before the whole thing plus she was sure the priest would have a field day with her in the confessions booth. "Alright, mommy's going out so you know what that means." plants came out with a lot of waterproof foundation as she was covered from head to to in it. The only parts that weren't were the vines and leaves on her left arm and lower back that were bonded and stuck to her, though she passed those off as 3D tatoo's. She made sure her green lips were lipstick esque and got dressed in her disguise wear as she called it and headed to the church. After a while she arrived.
The church was freezing, as Byte liked it. Icicles hung from the ceiling, and the ground was slippery. Byte heard the door creak open, and she grabbed her staff.
The clicking of heels could be heard on the ice as she walked to the pew and sprouted a leaf that broke through a piece of ice and the church floor. she put her feet up as she grabbed a bible and started reading it nonchalantly.
The tall man walked swiftly towards the asylum, only glancing once at his friend. "You'd think, by now, Pamela would be able to get out by herself. She's smart enough. Besides, right now, I need her..." He paused his words for a moment thinking about what he just said. "... You know, because she has the plants I need for my new toxins."
