Arkham City
Poison Ivy peered down from the tree she was perched in. The view was truly disgusting from up here, a mixture of reds and greens and blues in a pungent stew had been pouring down the street by the old dye factory for hours now. Ivy had been slinking along when she'd her babies crying. She'd arrived in time to see a proud old maple dissolve and collapse like a flan in a cupboard, consumed by the ooze. So she'd leaped to the weightier oak nearby determined to save at least one. frowning down at the advancing muck, almost in tears at the pain she was feeling from the burning roots underfoot. Scowling she reached out with her mind, sending out questing tendrils of organic matter to and fro on the wise old tree building out the bark to the strength of iron, hoping it would be enough to protect the tree while she figured out who was to blame. Leaping onto a fire escape Ivy grew out vines and, carefully so as to never hit the ground, made her way to the second floor front window of the dye factory and leaped inside, ready for answers.