According to popular belief, Gothamites had been relieved of one more villain. One less criminal to worry about plaguing the streets and taking innocent lives, however how she had died still remained a mystery. As a matter of fact, who had killed her was another mystery that had yet to be solved, not that anyone was entirely curious to find out, rather they had only been aware when one day a large set of flowers grew in Gotham City park, the white flowers having the woman's namesake wrapped around them. Bruce Wayne declared the woman dead due to such a thing, the plants remained alive and thriving for several years, despite the weather changes that ran through the city, the flowers stayed living. Who had murdered Pamela Isley? It was only occasionally a thought to Harley Quinn, who had drawn away from certain aspects in realizing that her 'Red' was no longer there.
Where had Pamela gone?
The cool breeze that went through the spring time air caused the trees to shift and wave their leaves slightly, the click of heels echoed through the silent walkway in Gotham City Park. It had been at least three years since the woman was proclaimed dead, the time ticking by carelessly as crimes throughout Gotham City continued, the dark knight coming to save the city just about every time. Typical really. Plush lips parting softly, a light sigh escaped her mouth as her arms folded above her head, knowing she was going to have to get dressed if she was going to pay a visit to Oswald. After all, with Oswald being the owner of the Iceberg Lounge, she knew this man was capable of spilling a few things that she cared to know. The dark green bustier on her upper half hugged onto the curves of her frame, the white pants that found themselves on her lower half slid up well, holding onto her firm rear as most pants generally would.
Wonderful. Sliding the matching white suit jacket onto her frame as well, whomever’s house this was, she was quite fortunate that the woman of the household had fabulous taste in clothing. Pausing for a moment as she spotted something not so decent however, she shook her head and considered her wardrobe less than fabulous. Whatever, she'd gotten her outfit. The house was undisturbed as the woman again made her move out of the house, her mind set on one man and one place in particular. It was within little time that the woman made her way through the back alley that led to the entrance of the Iceberg Lounge, her lips curling into a soft smile toward the henchman that stood at the door. The man raised a brow at the attractive woman, watching as she leaned toward him and left his cheeks burning a bright red color as though they were attempting to match her pinned up hair. It was a short matter of seconds before the man was on the ground, the color leaving his face and his veins exposed as he gasped for some type of air, heels clicking as she let him drop and moved inside the building.
Showing her teeth for a moment as she moved around one of the numerous penguins that hobbled around the Lounge, her eyes instantly set their sights on the male who sat with a small entourage of people. Other villains, probably, but she wasn't going for them. She wanted the Penguin. However, taking a moment to let her eyes move to one of the numerous icebergs that stuck out from the ceiling, Pamela's lips remained in their smiling state, another audible breath taken as she sent her vines up for the prize she knew the iceberg held. Her head turning now, the female was only a few feet away from the table that the men sat at, none of them aware of her presence until her heeled feet clicked across the table. " I - ah - Ivy? " Ivy was right. " Good evening gentlemen, and Ozzie, " The woman standing over him now, easily she moved to set her feet on either side of the man, her stilettos stopping in their clicking as she straddled his lap, the man clambering for words to say to the supposedly dead woman.
" H - How did you get in h - here? " He asked, the woman's lips not once breaking from their smile as she tilted her head curiously at the man. " Why, I walked through the front door of course. But enough chit chat Oswald, I've got some questions for you, so do play nice boys. " Speaking not only to him but the men around him, she knew he could easily signal not only his penguins but the rest of his henchmen to come for her, but the amount of surprise was obviously overwhelming. I'm nto so dead anymore now am I.<|im_end|>
Mr. Cobblepot's henchmen didn't know what to do. That devilish woman had gotten so close. With a kiss, their boss could be down for the count forever. With the current state of the economy, they'd be reverting back to street thugs. All of them pointed their guns at Poison Ivy; some of them had trembling hands. They sought guidance from the Penguin, but currently, their boss was most likely afraid right now, since Ms. Ivy did have the upper hand. An attractive woman was sitting on Cobblepot's lap; of course he would be excited, if it wasn't for the fact that if he kissed her, he might lose his life along with it.
A very close friend was sitting near the action. It was a man with a hat dressed in a green suit with a wide smile on his face. The man reached for his question mark top cane and got up out of his seat. He saw a riddle in front of his eyes. The infamous Poison Ivy was alive and well, rumors had it that she died, but yet here she is, after three long years. There wasn't a riddle that Edward E. Nigma couldn't solve.
Could the infamous Lazarus pit be a part of the reason why Ms. Pamela Isley is here today?
The short, round man gathered his composure after the almost heart-attack feeling of seeing Poison Ivy alive. He growled and snorted a bit as he stared at the deadly woman's eyes. Why are you here, Pamela? he said, as his hands that were resting comfortably on the chair's armrest were starting to sneak up into a fist. The henchmen that surrounded the room were starting to prepare for a showdown between them and Ms. Ivy.
The Riddler intervened and spoke, "Calm down Oswald."
The man with the green hat began walking towards the lovely couple. "She's here, of course, to see if you had anything to do with the fact that everyone now knows that Pamela Isley is dead." said the Riddler, as he was now standing behind the chair that Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot sat in, staring into Poison Ivy's eyes.
"Isn't that right, Ms. Ivy?" he said, with a smile. He then leaned down, and was just above the Penguin's right shoulder as he whispered so that both of them could hear. "Why don't we help each other out...I do believe that the heist that we're able to implement could use a feminine touch." the Riddler said, as he gripped his question mark cane and straightened himself out. "After all, the moment you made your presence known, almost all the men here reacted...you are a delight to look at, Pamela... dead or alive..."
The Penguin snorted, and looked away, muttering something under his breath while rolling his eyes. "I don't believe that we need her... besides, whose cut will it come out of if we were to include her in our scheme of things?"
"As you can see, Ms. Isley, this little bird only has a one-track mind. What reason would he have to rid the world of the beautiful Poison Ivy? Even with a beautiful woman on his lap, the man can only think of money," said the Riddler.
Once again, the Penguin mumbled something and stared up at Poison Ivy. He knew she wasn't there for his pleasure. Women of Gotham were never there for his pleasure, unless they were paid for.<|im_end|>