The Universe's Mixer

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 She had withdrawn into herself moreso than usual and was currently muttering to a tree as she did her best to help it grow.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.

Veronica was glad she was nuts enough to carry around a flashlight in her bag with her laptop.

She was out checking on a few facts with the police department about that murder she was dealing with on an intern-like basis. She'd gotten out the doors of the department when everything went black.

EVERYTHING.

The streetlights went out, and when they did, Veronica heard a car's brakes screech, and then what sounded like a huge crash. Car alarms followed. She sighed, looking up as lightning lit up the sky. She was gonna get soaked getting home, and a taxi looked like a bad idea.

She grabbed the flashlight out of her bag, a big mag light, and started walking, blond hair already getting plastered to her head. At least she'd worn boots today. With a slight smile on her face, Veronica found a puddle and jumped in it.

Of course, that was around the time she realized there was someone nearby, watching. That was okay, though. She was a huge dork. And she had a tazer and mace in her bag.

Ivy's garden in the park was flourishing, thanks to the protection she had gained for her trees for at least a day or so with that young boy. And of course, thanks to the growing rumors that the gardens were to be avoided. She was being left alone, which should have been enough.

Perhaps some days it was enough to stay in her little oasis in the City. But the air within the City was still too thick with pollution, and she could still sense the dying plants elsewhere amidst the asphalt, cement, and concrete that clogged up too much of what should have been fertile ground.

She needed to think bigger. She needed to bring more over to her cause.

So, with that in mind, Ivy dressed in a little green slip dress, abandoning her leaf leotard for the time being. She was going for normal. At least, normal for the type of woman that might turn heads when visiting the local watering hole.

It would take a lot of work, and she wasn't expecting to accomplish it all in one night, but all the same it was time to get out and meet some new people.

Ivy entered the first bar that she came across, brushing past several of the patrons before settling at the bar. Her eyes scanned the room, though she had a feeling that she wouldn't need to approach her first victim. She would instead wait for the idiots to flock to her.

Deacon still had no clue how (or why) he'd ended up in the City. But he was reassured, at least, by the fact that he had an apartment, and enough money to get by. He'd decided to spend the next few nights exploring, getting to know this city that was, for the time being at least, his home. Didn't mean he had to like it; he just had to get used to it.

He was missing Quinn and Mercury - Quinn was easy to make fun of, watching the two of them squabble even moreso - and had yet to find anyone he wanted to spend more than a couple of minutes around. He was grumpy, horny, and more importantly, hungry. There'd been some sort of synthetic blood in the store, but it wasn't the same as feeling a fluttering pulse against his lips, wasn't the same as the smell of fear, the pathetic struggling of a human held tight in his arms. While he didn't need to hunt, or feed, nonetheless the urge was there.

Lighting a cigarette off the end of the last, he strode down the street, pausing at an intersection long enough to toss his cigarette butt into a drain. There was a park up ahead, maybe he'd find something to entertain him there.

Rufio hadn't been able to rebuild his landsurfer. Not yet, but he wasn't letting that get to him. Instead he'd gone out, late at night, found a store that had skateboards in it, then taken one. It hadn't been hard, a rock through the glass and grabbing his and leaving, running out and leaping on the special design and taking off, one hand on the hilt of his sword and the other stretched forward to knock things out of his way as he laughed. He rolled through the streets of the City, knocking people and things over and doing the occasional trick. He'd pioneered the boards with the Lost Boys, even if he moved on later to the landsurfer. Nobody topped Rufio on four wheels and a plank of wood.

Soon, though, he found what he was really looking for in this maze of rock and concrete. Some semblance of a forest, though it was pretty pathetic. Sparce, small trees, only barely enough to hide in.

Rufio plunged into the foliage, looking around for signs of anything familiar, but especially fairies. "Tink?" he tried. If she'd left him in this world this is where she'd probably be found. "Tinkerbell, get over here!"

He moved into the deepest brush he could find, pants swishing and board clapping against his side as he held it, looking around. No, this wood was all wrong, and not one sign of a fairy, or any other magic folk. Angry and disappointed, Rufio tossed up the board, grabbing on end and turning, slamming it into the nearest tree. The thin little thing snapped, but he didn't feel any better, moving backwards and hitting a bigger tree with his back, sliding down until he was sitting.

He'd thought it would be easy to find something to give him a clue, but after all these days, still nothing was like it should be. There weren't even the stars like Peter had told them, that constellation that showed how to get to the Neverland, even if he could fly. But no. Didn't seem it was to be.

The Doctor had gotten distracted. ( It happened. )

Somehow, Ivy had managed to find a few rare saplings in the City over the past few weeks. With her help, they'd grown and flourished fairly quickly. They were in a carefully guarded section of her garden, and she visited them often.

Today, however, she was tending to some of her roses when she caught a little hint of trepidation from the trees. A few seconds later, she heard the sound of... was that barking?

It had better not be Harley's hyenas, she thought to herself as she straightened up from where she'd been kneeling by the rosebush and turned to rush over to the grove of trees.

Ivy's ventures out into the City had certainly turned up some interesting meetings. She apparently had more enemies to contend with, and even some familiar enemies. It didn't bother her all that much, however. She'd faced the Canary before, and even the whispered rumors of the Batman didn't phase her.

This City was in dire need of care, and Ivy seemed the only one who cared enough to give that. Charlie certainly had potential, but she would have to see him again and see if she could motivate him to help with her cause.

Today, Ivy was staying a little closer to the new home that she'd claimed. She'd ventured out of the garden in the middle of the park and was instead tending to some of the trees on the outskirts. They were mired with litter and cigarette butts. Her eyes narrowed at each blight on what might have been a picture perfect landscape.

They would pay for this. She would find ways to make the citizens of this poor excuse for a habitat sorry that they had ever turned their backs on Mother Nature.

( Ignore the blond behind the curtain. )

Ivy had spent the afternoon exploring the City. It was much like Gotham-dirty, polluted, filled with concrete that strangled any soil that might nourish plants. Unlike Gotham, the citizens of this City had yet to have someone teach them the error of their ways. She had a lot of work to do. And though she’d already punished a few offenders, her mood still hadn’t lifted.

Until she happened upon a sprawling yard that was extremely out of place amidst the sea of buildings. Somehow in the middle of the City, there was a mansion along with an ample yard. There were fruit trees in all colors, fully flowered and stretching up and out as though soaking up every bit of sun allowed into the yard, which was an oasis amidst the skyscrapers that clogged up the air and blocked sun from most other parts of the City.

Ivy approached the trees cautiously, taking a moment to commune with them and sense their emotions. They were content, and even well-cared for. While the person who had planted and kept them up might not have been an expert, he or she had certainly given the trees a lot more care than most humans might. She ran a hand along the trunk of one of the trees, lovingly caressing it as she reveled in this small bit of utopia amidst the hell that was the City’s streets and buildings.

( And trees, glorious trees... )

Jean-Paul had never had quite so much free time in his life as he did now. And it sucked. Even when he'd quit Alpha Flight, he'd had his Olympic training and Jeanne-Marie's multiple personalities to occupy him. Now, chances were that Jeanne-Marie wasn't even here, and while the City had proven to be surprisingly accomodating at times (when he needed money, mostly), he hadn't yet found a ski resort.

He had considered getting a job, but nothing around the City held much appeal for someone whose previous occupations had included petty thief, trapeze artist, terrorist (reformed), Olympic athlete and government-sponsered superhero. Mostly, he just didn't have the patience to deal with a high volume of strangers on a daily basis, as he would have to do in a restaurant or retail job.

So he'd done a lot of reading, he'd explored the City, and sometimes, he'd played crimefighter and helped some poor sap who was being mugged. It was fun, and didn't come with any of the bad press he'd gotten at home for being a mutant or a waste of government funds. Something of James McDonald Hudson's annoying self-righteousness must've rubbed off on him, because he actually felt good about helping people (not just good because he got to beat people up).

But most of the time, he just wandered around to try and work off his constant impatience. Today's trip took him past one of the City's gardens. He was sure he'd been by recently, but it was looking incredibly overgrown and untended, as if no one had been by in years. Strange. He paused by one clump of vines and cautiously ran a finger over a leaf. Well, it was real, at least, not just some weird set-up for a photoshoot or an out-of-season haunted... garden.

The torn-up hand and forearm he could see sticking out another tangle of plants looked real, too. Jean-Paul wavered. On the one hand, carelessly-left body parts were usually signs of evil afoot. On the other, it wasn't like he could really do anything for the guy. Oh, but his conscience told him that maybe the plants would kill someone else and then how would he feel, knowing he'd left without at least investigating a little bit?

With a sigh, Jean-Paul wandered back to the entrance gate and a pathway that pretty much disappeared into the new plant growth. Hopefully, he'd at least be able to fly out of this one if he got lost (or trapped, but he wasn't going to think about that yet).

The sunlight warmed Ivy's face, making her feel strong and content. She slowly opened her eyes to the new dawn, content that night was over. Something was different. She sat up and looked around. The children were nowhere to be seen. A pang of concern hit her, but before she could focus too much on the children, she realized that the plants around her felt different. They weren't the babies she'd cultivated in Robinson park. They were weaker, thirstier, more neglected.

Ivy rose to her feet and turned as she heard footsteps. A man came into view, though he didn't immediately spot Ivy. Gardening shears were in his hand and he headed straight for a rose bush. Ivy watched as he leaned in to snip a rose off the bush.

She held out her hand and communed with the roses, which grew long enough to wrap around him and dig the thorns inside. Ivy stepped into view as the man writhed against the thorns cutting into him, his blood droplets falling on the white roses, staining them.

"Savage," Ivy growled as the thorned vines dragged him downward, suffocating him.

She turned and walked away, ignoring the dying shrieks of the man. She continued through the park, encouraging plants wherever she went. Flowers began to bloom, vines began to creep up trellises, and the grass started to turn wild. Still, there was much to do.

This place was in need, and Ivy could see she had a lot of work to do.

Pamela Isley had arrived in the City not long ago, and since then she'd been trying to figure out exactly what she was doing there. She'd very soon found out that she couldn't leave and was stuck there. After that she'd decided to find some place to stay and put down roots as it was. So far she hadn't found anything yet, but hopefully that was going to change. Now she needed to know who else was around and that would take some doing. Really she doubted anyone she knew was in this strange place.

The girl mostly known as Poison Ivy was hanging around, trying to get her bearings and figure out what was going on. She was standing on the street, glancing around here or there. Come in and say hello if you know her, or even if you don't.