5862/Welcome to the Jungle

Welcome to the Jungle
Date of Scene:	27 November 2018
Location:	Gotham City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Poison Ivy, Azrael

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Poison Ivy has posed:
Pamela Isley is tending her garden. After Batman basically gave her permission to use this blighted gardne, she turned it into a paradise - if one that very few people can access. She will go and check on her experiments later. She just flops on a lawn chair with a glass of iced tea, and just watches her rose blooming, talking softly to them.

Azrael has posed:
The men at the gates of this paradise had not been so lucky. They skirted the edge, hoping that the unexpected growth could ward off any unwanted police attention. But it didn't give any protection from avenging angels.

Azrael had finished a small pack of muggers, leaving them unconscious in a dumpster, a flaming sword in his hands as he looks to his side and sees the unexpected greenery, "The Garden of Eden...?" he asks aloud.

Poison Ivy has posed:
Pamela Isley blinks as she hears that word, getting up and walking to the gate in the greenery, crisscrossed with spiked vines. She raises an eyebrow - from the angry angel with the flaming sword to his words. "Welcome to the Isley Gardens... if you are going to come closer, please douse your sword."

Azrael has posed:
The hooded figure cocks his head, the blood crimson cloak around his shoulders hugging against him. "The emissaries of God do not take orders from mortal temptresses," he says. Still, he douses the blade, laying the point of the sword against the ground although not yet sheathing it. "Truly you are a daughter of Eve. I can almost smell your sin." he says.

Poison Ivy has posed:
Pamela Isley just blinks. "I'm not even _trying_ to be a temptress. Believe me, if I was, you'd know. I've had enough deranged peraching when I was in Arkham. And... aren't all women daughters of Even, and men sons of Adam?" She then glances you over. "So - you're either actually an angel... something I'd be highly skeptical of - a mutant... come to think of it, I'm pretty sure one of hte X-Men goes by Archangel - or some metahuman like me." She just stares at you. "If you promise to be civil and nonviolent, I'll let you come in - you're standing in the street and I don't want you being run over."

Azrael has posed:
Azrael stands, wary, but finally sheathing his blade. "I know what I am," he says simply, although there's a twitch to it, as if his body spasmed underneath that armor as he said so. "I am Azrael." He walks forward out of the street, approaching with a mixture of boldness and awareness, unafraid but not unprepared.

Poison Ivy has posed:
Pamela Isley snorts as she steps back to her lawn chair, the spiked vines pullign back from the gate to allow access. "So - what's your story?" she asks. "I wasn't anticipating company - I can get you a glass of iced tea if you want." She then blinks. "Wait - you do know who I am, right?" She looks puzzled, as if the idea of someone from Gotham _not_ knowing of Poison Ivy to be confusing.

Azrael has posed:
Jean-Paul Valley stares for a long moment, "All are equal in the eyes of the Lord," he says. "I do not need...refreshment," he says. He seems uncomfortable, unused to being addressed casually or even existing outside of the context of the mission. He can see that she is dangerous, though, if only because she fears him not. "I have no story. I am Azrael, angel of the lord, Sword of St. Dumas, avenger of the innocent, punisher of the wicked. I have no tale but duty."

Poison Ivy has posed:
Pamela Isley raises an eyebrow. "So... if you're an angel, where are your wings?" she asks, highly skeptical. The only real point of interest in this garden, beside the cottage and the greenhouse, is the rather large cactus, ten feet tall, and in a climate that should not b able to support it. "You do know who I am?" she asks, eyebrow raised. "I'd be kinda surrpised if you didn't."

Azrael has posed:
"You are known," he says. "Those that see with the eyes of faith perceive that which surpasseth understanding," he says. He looks at the cactus with an odd stance, cocking his head to the side, "You should not waste your time in pursuit of vanity. Better to turn your hands to the humble work of abundance and service."

Poison Ivy has posed:
Pamela Isley just blinks. "Do me a favor and talk like a normal person, not a depraved evangelist? It gets old after a while." She sighs softly. "So what do you think I've been doing?" she asks, eyebrow raised.

Azrael has posed:
"I am not a person," he responds. "Azrael is eternal. And I am not depraved. I hear different in regards to you. They call you Poison, don't they? I've heard you're mad. You don't seem mad," he says.

Poison Ivy has posed:
Pamela Isley smiles. "I am Poison Ivy. You know, like the plant? And... I'm trying to reform. Ecoterrorism was not the way. My goal is to show just how useful plants can be - so people won't hurt them anymore." She sighs softly. "And I'm not insane. I have... different priorities. I can hear things you can't - sense things that you can't. I am connected to plantlife."

Azrael has posed:
Jean-Paul Valley flexes his hands as he walks, as if he can't quite sit still. "I know what it is to see what others cannot see. Hear what they cannot hear. Even now, I hear the wicked in Hell, crying out to God for mercy. Pointless. Mercy is a human quality, not to be found in God," he says.

"Do plants beg?"

Poison Ivy has posed:
Pamela Isley shakes her head. "No - they do scream. But nobody else can hear them. The Green is... a strange thing, connecting all plantlife together - as well as myself. I was a normal human once." She then studies you, still trying to figure out what you are - angel, mutant, meta, or just nuts.

Azrael has posed:
Jean-Paul Valley looks up, taking in the growth rising up around him, "I dwell in a human vessel. He is weak. Frail. Afraid. Unworthy. But he is all I have. I must make do with the tool the Lord has given me," he says. "I do not know what normal is. I have seen very little of it in this world."

Poison Ivy has posed:
Pamela Isley frowns. "So, are you really an angel? Can you prove it without the flaming sword thing? Don't want fire here."

Azrael has posed:
Jean-Paul Valley shrugs, "I do not care whether you believe or do not. I am what I am," he says. "I see the cracks in this broken and degenerate world. I see the rot and decay. The suffering and the fear. I will not use my sword, but the soul of Azrael is always aflame."

Poison Ivy has posed:
Pamela Isley sighs soflty as she looks at you. "So I believe that you believe what you say. Just leave my garden out of whatever you have planned. There is no violence here. Not anymore. Perhaps some nuclear radiation. That's about it."

Azrael has posed:
Jean-Paul Valley turns slowly, "I will spare your piece of Eden. It is a beautiful thing. The world needs more beautiful things. The rest of the city, I can make no promises," he says.

Poison Ivy has posed:
Pamela Isley nods. "Go in peace," she states to Azrael. "I am honored that you'd think of my place as Eden, by the way. A flattering comparison."