InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "french fried"

Poison Ivy (i_garden) wrote in we_coexist,
@ 2011-10-10 22:10:00

Entry tags:

mad sweeney, pamela isley

We Rebuild (Sweeney)
The storm had come and gone and Ivy had been forced to watch and feel her babies deaths. She had withdrawn into herself moreso than usual and was currently muttering to a tree as she did her best to help it grow.

She had practically needed to start from scratch, but she would work with what she could. A thousand storms could come through and she would replant and tend to those plants and she would continue with her mission to improve the environment in this City.

She had no choice, after all. She wasn't here because she'd promised to repair the environment like she had with Gotham. No, she was here because she physically couldn't leave. She resented whatever power had trapped her here and forced her to watch the systematic destruction of the family she'd grown over her past few months here.

She would repair the damages. Those plants that were lost couldn't truly be replaced, but she could grow new babies. She would have to, or she'd go mad with grief. Of course, it was possible she was already mad with grief, not that she was the best person to judge her own sanity.

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i_haveahoard
2011-10-19 11:50 pm UTC (link)

The storms had taken Sweeney a bit off guard. Something was pissed off and it had shown. Something was probably still not happy, but placated. He'd had enough experience with Wednesday and his ilk to know that if something was that severe and erratic it was probably not natural in origin.

He walked, cigarette pinched between two fingers and whistled to himself a tune older than most of the residents of the City. Or at least he assumed. There were those, like himself, that were older than the tune.

Taking one final drag off the cigarette, he flicked the butt without giving a thought to it into the plants near where he was walking. Sweeney didn't care, really. He assumed that some bird would pick it up and tear it up and turn it into bedding for a nest. He was his usual self, jeans, denim jacked covered in patches, baseball cap and snarky t-shirt.

In fact, for the effect of the day, the seven foot tall leprechaun wore a t-shirt that said “I've had it up to here with midgets.” The line of which was about nipple high on him. It was, to him, humerous.

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i_garden
2011-10-20 02:42 am UTC (link)

Ivy wasn't far away when the redhead tromped through her plants and flicked the cigarette butt. She grimaced. She'd just started helping those plants to recover.

The leaf of the plant that the butt hand landed on responded to her nudging and flicked the cigarette butt right back at the litterbug.

Ivy stepped into view and crossed her arms, leveling a glare at the man. She was not in the mood to use the finesse of tinkering with pheromones at the moment. No, she was in the mood for retaliation that would most likely be a little more violent.

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