15546/The Fugitive

The Fugitive
Date of Scene:	29 August 2023
Location:	Gotham
Synopsis:	Dr. Ivy is wrongfully accused of a crime committed by a one-armed man. She must prove her innocence while evading capture by US Marshall Renee Montoya. This summary definitely isn't a bad joke that stretches the scene's premise to make an unnecessary movie reference.
Cast of Characters:	Renee Montoya, Poison Ivy

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Renee Montoya has posed:
Gotham has no normal crimes. Not anymore. Once you have a spotlight on the police headquarters to beam a giant Bat symbol into the sky, and you're using it multiple times a week? Once some guy calls himself Condiment King and... kills people with mustard or something? Whatever that guy's deal is? Normal crime doesn't really occur to you.

And when more than enough fertilizer disappears to build a bomb, you skip past 'But what if they're building a bigger bomb?' and go right to 'What if Poison Ivy is planning to grow an army of plant monsters to eat people at the next major awards show?' Or at least that's where Renee Montoya's keen detective instincts have taken her.

Which means her unmarked police cruiser has taken her to the environs surrounding Poison Ivy's gardens and greenhouse. She could have called for backup, but... why? She's got a hunch. A lead. And she's not going to share it with her coworkers needlessly.

She makes a quick check, cuffs in their holder on her left hip, holster on her right. Badge is offset on her front left belt loop.

And Renee's set and ready to go, striding into the lion's den. Or the plant's... vase? Well, she's making her way into Ivy's domain anyhow, all measured, determined steps and bad attitude with her shoulders rolled forward like she's itching for a fight.

"Pamela 'Poison Ivy' Isley! GCPD! Make yourself known!" ...Yeah, this isn't Renee trying to be a badass cop. This is actually off-duty level of friendly Renee.

This is why Renee doesn't really /do/ off-duty friendships.

Poison Ivy has posed:
    You want the fastest way to raise Ivy's hackles? Call her by her human name. Hearing that name instantly undoes all the work on herself she'd been doing over the last several weeks, all the effort into not hating humanity and not viewing murder as an acceptable and effective solution to any slights. The rational part of her mind is consumed by icy anger; not the kind of rage that you wake up from as if from a sleep, but the kind of cold-blooded fury that lets you plan what you need to do to get your retribution without caring about the cost. As she strides to the door, heels clacking out the staccato beat of her displeasure, she's already thinking about which of her babies she'll have pull the human bitch's arms out of her sockets right up until the moment she throws the door open (it crashes startlingly against the inside wall, a fact Ivy's hateful mind hopes the cop can appreciate, since startling people by knocking doors into walls is one of their favorite tricks) and sees: something is wrong.

    There's only one cop. One, to deal with Poison Ivy, a dangerous supercriminal whom most of them believe--or at least claim to believe--can control your mind. A gay woman, Ivy would estimate at a quick glance over her.

    Ivy's face collapses from a murder-filled glower to a more pinched look of suspicion. "What is this?" she snaps bluntly. Her mind is reached out for some vines kept by the door: you never know if this is a trap you'll need to defend yourself against.

Renee Montoya has posed:
    If Renee knew Ivy didn't like being called anything but Ivy? She might actually feel a little bad about inadvertently offending her. But also, she might do it just /to/ offend her and throw her off balance. Interrogation 101 and all. Of course, if she'd considered Ivy /controls/ plants and... Renee's walking into a garden? Well. Maybe she'd have held back.

    Instead, she's standing there, all confidence and cold, authoritative projection. Renee works Gotham streets, where if you're not the baddest bitch you'll be dead in five seconds flat. So when she puts that badge on? She makes sure she feels, no, knows, she's the baddest bitch around. Sure, Batwoman's got gadgets and looks like a vampire, but the fact Renee goes without fancy gadgets or superstition for extra fear means she /is/ in fact a badass.

    The door crashes open and Poison Ivy strides out and... Renee's going to remember that moment for a long time. It's like danger incarnate /and/ nature incarnate both came striding out. It's just a shame she looks so peeved. Still, there's theatre to be adhered to when interrogating a suspect.

    Intent eyes lock on Ivy. On /her/ eyes in fact, steady and yet with a glint to them that seems barely controlled in contrast. "Just a visit from your friendly local PD. A big shipment of fertilizer went missing and... I mean, fertilizer. Plants. You. Connecting some dots." She offers the /most/ insincere smile she can, "Do you mind if I come in and look around?"

Poison Ivy has posed:
    Ivy's right arm shoots out like a piston, driving her palm against the doorjamb, barring the way forward. Her narrowed eyes have, at least, lost their previous green luminescence that heralds an attack by an army of topiaries or whatever (seriously, if you ever stop to think about the things Gothamites accept as normal, it gets existentially terrifying realy fast), but lost none of their narrowed suspicion. "Show me the warrant, or else you can respect my Constitutional right to freedom from unlawful search and seizure--"

    She cuts herself off before she can add the final word, 'pig'. But it's a near thing. A hair's breadth, no more.

Renee Montoya has posed:
    Renee stops just outside of arm's reach right as that arm shoots out and slams home against the door, eyebrows perking up slightly, and her eyes widening... involuntary and instinctive. She draws a slow breath, just a bit of a hitch to it.

    But Renee's just... so so good. At making bad decisions. Her hands move slowly to her partly zipped jacket, well away from that holster on her hip, gripping lapels of her coat... to pull it just a little wider and show... nothing. No envelope, no folded paper. No warrant. She tilts her head, voice level. "What? No zeal to help the police track down a missing fertilizer shipment for the good of the community? No spirit of cooperation?" She clicks her tongue almost absently, "I thought I'd heard you were turning over a new leaf."

    Part of Renee knows this is it. This is the day she dies for a terrible pun thrown at a metahuman ecoterrorist for no good reason. And that part of her really wishes she'd at least irished up her morning coffee for one last hurrah. Also, she's going to die with no one else having heard that pun. New leaf. Poison Ivy. Fucking /amazing/.

Poison Ivy has posed:
    Ivy isn't immune to a good pun. It would have landed better if the cop had used her real name, though. Nevertheless, on a level so subtle she can't even perceive it, her hostility lessens. Just a bit. A tad. A skootch.

    Her arm stays where it is, though.

    "Zealotry is for crusaders. You know, crusaders, the ones who wear capes and probably yiff at the stuff they look at in private browser windows. Now stop fucking around and tell me what you're really doing here because none of this makes any sense."

    She doesn't notice that her own behavior is a tad irrational either; acting like she's in a hurry to find out the truth but still wasting precious seconds with a bad joke to insult someone who isn't even present to feel the burn. No one ever accused Ivy of a surplus of self-awareness.

Renee Montoya has posed:
    Renee rolls her eyes and snorts, "Oh please. You need to be a zealot to stick it out in the GCPD, I mean, the monthly psych checks, the financial paperwork to prove you're not taking Two-Face's money when you can't afford an apartment with a decent water heater..."

    She quirks an eyebrow, "And what about the crusaders for environmental causes who wear... are those /real leaves/? They look pretty real."

    Her eyes flick down then back up, face... mostly managing that impassive too-cool-for-school expression. And then she sighs and groans softly, "Listen, seriously, a big goddamn shipment of ammonium nitrate went missing, and if it's /not/ because you wanted a bulk order, it means someone else took it and... I don't think they're going to be using it for radical environmentalism. I really was hoping it was just you... I dunno, planning to grow a giant tomato monster to give the Bat something new to fight? Figured if I showed up, rattled your cage a little I could get a measure on you."

    Eyes sweep again, lips quirk thoughtfully, "Think I'm working on your measurements now." And then she flinches. Shit! Shit! That... did not come out right! But how's she supposed to just /say/ that? Admitting it is like letting Ivy win. Right? Right. You're so right about that Renee. This is not your inner monolog lying to you.

Poison Ivy has posed:
    And there goes the hostility again. "Stop flirting with me," she snaps, eyes burning metaphorically. "You're here looking for reasons to lock me up. We're not friends." She stares the message home, then relents without losing any of her intensity. "And for the record, I don't use ammonium nitrate fertilizers. They're only short-term effective, do long-term damage to soil and water that harms all parts of the biosphere, and deplete ozone. If someone stole it, then tell the feds someone's planning to make a Beirut bomb and let them violate people's rights to find out whodunnit."

    Yet she hesitates. Not because she gives a damn who this unknown terrorist plans to blow up--she well and truly doesn't--but because she does care WHERE. If it's in Gotham, where there's precious little good life to work with in the first place, then the biosphere could suffer the toxic effects for years.

Renee Montoya has posed:
    Renee snorts and rolls her eyes, "What, isn't that how it goes? I mean, the tabloids are always claiming Batman and Catwoman have this entire /thing/, I'm just trying to, y'know, fit in!" She heaves out a sigh and shakes her head slowly, "But yeah, I... had a feeling it was going to be something like that. Honestly, you... creative criminal sorts are... eye-catching. Attention-grabbing. Easy to jump to everything being some big goddamn circus... /literally/ in the case of your blonde... gal pal."

    Shoulders lift and fall, "Sorry for showing up like a raging hurricane of bitch. It's nothing personal. I mean, it's /totally/ personal, but it's not personal for you. Or professional. It's just how I am."

    She holds her hands up, palms out, crooked, even shit-eating grin on her lips. "So... you're not going to like... shoot me with a bunch of toxic thorns if I back away slowly, right? I wasn't /that/ bad?"

Poison Ivy has posed:
    Ivy is silent, glaring, letting her well-practiced resting bitchface cover her own internal dialogue before eventually asking, ignoring all the flirting: "So what are you asking me for?"

    Her back itches. She's positive this is all a ruse to get her to not pay attention to the lab while Batman ransacks it before hitting her with a throwing star shaped like his narcissitic chest symbol, but...

    But ammonium nitrate. That's but what.

Renee Montoya has posed:
    Renee sighs and crosses her arms, brow furrowing. "I... don't know. If you hear anything. Or... hell, sense anything, if a goddamn /tree/ talks to you about a suspicious cargo truck parked somewhere... just... reach out and let me know?"

    She laughs, a shockingly bitter sound for a moment, "I mean, I'd give the whole 'You scratch my back' speech, but... offering to get you off for a misdemeanor or parking tickets is a waste of breath, right? You're not going to have a pile of unpaid parking tickets hanging over your head."

    She pauses for a long moment, voice almost hopeful, "Do you? Have a bunch of parking tickets?"

Poison Ivy has posed:
    Ivy retorts acidly, "If I did, I would never accept such an offer because that would constitute a bribe, which is illegal in this jurisdiction." Despite her irritation, she's actually feeling a bit better, a bit more sure of herself: a crooked cop coming after her is something she can understand. "But maybe, MAYBE I can find something out. If I do, I'll..."

    She'll what? Tell the cops? Because of how much she respects them and their ability to solve problems that need solving? Hell no. She'll deal with it herself, but saying so would definitely be admissible against her in a court of law.

    "...Neutralize it," she says, with a barely perceptible pause in those ellipses. "I think I can cook up something in my lab that would counter the toxic effects."

    Technically not a lie.

Renee Montoya has posed:
    Renee's response to Ivy's righteous indignation at the idea of a /bribe/ is a roll of her eyes that screams that Renee, jaded as she is, barely considers parking enforcement part of her job anymore.

    But there's that pause in Ivy's speech, before she settles on neutralizing the fertilizer that has Renee letting out an almost unwilling little bark of laughter. "Well, if you do..." She frowns, "Try to at least... I dunno, call city works so they can clean up? I mean, I get it, you hate cops, the system's got problems but... some of us are /trying/ to do the right thing."

    She heaves out a sigh and slowly begins to back away one step at a time, "So... seriously? We're good? You don't have some vine snare that's going to snap out and trip me just for laughs?"

Poison Ivy has posed:
    "Yeah, I'm gonna trip you because I'm trying to get on America's Funniest Videos," Ivy grunts. She eyes Montoya for a moment, then asks over folded arms--arms that are finally not blocking the entrance to her lab, though the rest of her body is so the improvement is really more symbolic than anything--"So are you gonna tell me your name or what?"

Renee Montoya has posed:
    Renee clears her throat and reaches into her coat, rummaging... searching... and finally pulls out a small business card, reversing her slow back away to step forward and offer the card. "Montoya. Renee Montoya. My direct line's on there, so... yeah. If you get a lead or... I dunno, whatever, just call."