quicklog: robinson park; ivy, kitty, and eddie
What: Selina and Eddie are making a visit to Pam's kingdom.
Where: Robinson Park.
When: Not long after the destruction.
Warnings: None yet?
[As for as monuments of Gotham went, Robinson Park was doing better than others. It was still standing, so there was that. Several of the larger trees had toppled after having their ancient root structures fractured by the blast that radiated up from inside the Earth. So now those trees laid on their sides, and the roots stood tall, perpendicular, clotted with so much soil and the little squirming things that lived in the soil. These things were uncomfortable exposed to the air, and it made Ivy sad because she knew what that was like, being overexposed. She'd felt it in the city, she'd felt it surrounded by buildings and lights, granite crushing down upon even when it was just standing there. She hadn't liked feeling surrounded by things so strange and just wrong, like a fish out of water, and maybe that's how these little squirming bug things felt now that their homes were torn up and totaled.
Ivy still didn't know the nature of why this had happened. Earthquake, she assumed. Which seemed weird for this coast, but Gotham was weird anyway. Still, for the most part, Robinson park was in a good state. One of the massive trees that fell, it managed to completely blockade one of the park's main entrances. It wasn't impossible to crawl over, it would be the same as crawling over a barked-over taxi cab… but Ivy didn't really see what the worry about the park was anyway. Selina made it sound like things could get bad. In destruction like this, there would be looting, she knew. But there were no shops here, nothing to take. There were still many small animals living in the park, nowhere else to go for them, but most of the birds had abandoned the place entirely. There was grit and dust in the air everywhere in the city, but the air in the park itself seemed strangely clean. Supernaturally refreshing, a true oasis. Every breath of air was cool min on the throat, every smell tropical citrus.
On that fallen tree blocking the main entrance, Ivy sat. Cross-legged, studying the busted root structure with a contemplative, studious expression. She wore tired old lace, cream smudged with dirt and moss. It had probably been a pretty dress once, something a bridesmaid would have worn proudly in the 80s. As it was now? It looked like Ivy had been wearing the thing for weeks, there were all kinds of rips and tears, and it didn't look near warming enough for exposed nights in a park, but she didn't shiver.
She contemplated a caterpillar, held him up on the tip of her index finger. Her hair was a bit of a mess too, like it couldn't decide how red it wanted to be yet, so it settled on pieces of auburn in shafts of more demanding light.]