10418/Visitor Unexpectico

Visitor Unexpectico
Date of Scene:	10 March 2022
Location:	Rooftop - Sunny Rose Antiques Store
Synopsis:	Kate was spying on Ivy, Ivy was calling Kate. They watched iZombie and it was cute. Only Frank knows for sure.
Cast of Characters:	Pamela Isley, Kate Kane

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Pamela Isley has posed:
The plants had relocated themselves, which for Gotham might not be that out of place, but here in Brooklyn? Neighbors are a little startled by plant life climbing UP the side of a wall or marching itself through the door to climb the stairs from the back of a moving van. Ivy, likewise, strolls casually among the scattered masses, staring up at the brownstone above an antique shop.

There's a gentle rain. There's the last rays of the sun.

She smiles gently and ascends to her new home on the roof of her best friend (and her roommates) apartment. Had it only been a few hours? She's seated on her chair, a lounging recline on vines pillowed with thick leaves for comfort. A pinky nail between her teeth as she does anything, but look at her cellphone.

Then reaches for it and plugs in the number she'd been given. Putting the phone gently to her damp green ear to hear the subtle tone of ringing from the other end.

Her brow furrows at a noisy fly trap that comes over complaining to her about the cable being out, but she waves him away with an irrate outward flap of her hand, "Go away, Frank, I'm busy. Go ask April, I don't know anything about cable dishes or connections... or wifi.."

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate wasn't kidding about keeping an eye on Pam. The number she gave her was even genuine. It didn't go to her civilian phone, or her literal Batphone... but you don't live the life of crimefighting vigilante hedge fund manager philanthropist without having...

Okay, Kate's not sure how many phones she owns. 'A drawerful' sounds about right.

Luckily, Kate keeps them all on vibrate, so there's no distinctive chiming from across the street where a crouched figure is hidden behind an air conditioning unit. Oh... goddamnit, the air conditioning unit! She shuffles and duckwalks across the rooftop, so she's near the back alley... about as far as she can be while still being able to peek up Ivy-wards as she answers the phone, "Batwoman's Bachelorette Parties. We make sure your shindig's not a mistake even if your big day is!"

There's a brief pause, before her more 'night time business' voice chimes in dryly, "That was a joke. Hilarious, right?"

What? Kate's not sure how you break the ice when a semi-retired ecoterrorist rings you up. It's hard to play it cool when you still don't feel cool from the meeting where you _gave_ her the number.

It's fine. She's got this. It's going to go great.

Pamela Isley has posed:
It is entirely Ivy hadn't expected anyone to pick up. It's close enough to dusk that Batwoman could be getting ready for patrol, so she was going to just leave a tasteful message, 'hello, this is my number. Call.. or don't.' Something like that. No mixed signals, no allusions to something else.

She picks at a bit of vine that's wrapped around her thigh and flusters pollen off her fingers when the flower sprouts beneath her touch. The pinky returns to her lips, 'ring' rin-... She answers? It could be one of those comeical messages Harley always leaves on her voicemail.

There's even silence.

So Ivy Starts talking, "Hello, this is my nu- oh you're there.." Awkward.

".. I picked up on that, yes." Covering her tracks like the druidess that she is. Unphased, nonplushed, she's strong. She's nature. "I have nothing to talk about. I was going to leave you a tasteful message." Her lips purse against the receiver, green eyes looking around her jungle of an abode.

"Come see me." Temptation leaking from her tone as if sap from a tree.

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate bites her lower lip tightly... and keeps staring across rooftops. There's a bit of delay, where she sees Ivy speaking a split second before her voice comes through the phone. Luckily she's not reading lips, so she doesn't slip up and start answering before Ivy finishes talking, because boy wouldn't _that_ be awkward? Hahaaaaaa. Why would anything between them be awkward? What even _is_ tension anyway?

Kate clears her throat softly, "Well, I was going to go snooping around on rooftops and keeping an eye on notable figures on my radar..."

She trails off as she focuses on that particular figure and has to stifle a low groan... that was a _good_ terrible joke, but no one's ever going to know it, "I guess I could stop in. I mean... costume? I know showing up all... casual's probably a bit of a step. But I'm willing to do it." She snorts softly... Ivy was close enough last night, sooner or later she's going to see the bottom half of some Society section of a newspaper with Kate Kane at some function and go 'Hey, I recognize that jawline'. Why fight it?

Pamela Isley has posed:
That is an interesting conundrum even Eddie would find facination. Ivy rattles her tongue back and forth between her bottom teeth, loud enough that the receiver just barely picks it up, before answering. "Is that so?" It was the throat clearing.. her green eyes narrow slightly and a grin creeps upon the corners of her mouth, twisting them into something a little more suggestive that there's absolutely no way Kate could possibly see right?

A finger comes up to trail along her collar bone. Tracing the shadowed outline of of her bosom. For no reason, surely. It's not at all implaying a thing. "Well, I do know how much you enjoy leaping from rooftops in your skin-tight suits."

With agreement, however, "Oh dear... darling.. Aren't we a little past that now? Do you intend to sit watching Netflix with me in that uncomfortable outfit?" Her tongue snaps off the back of her teeth, 'tsk'. Finger still moving across her chest, but how could Kate possibly know? Of course she doesn't.

"Just come to the roof. We'll worry about the unpacking later."

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate just heaves out a sigh that screams 'I'm defeated and I am in no way upset at it'... but she at least lets the line drop before she's descending the fire escape and darting out of the alley about a half block away. She's not really worrying about taking her time so it doesn't seem like she was totally across the street watching Ivy... if she shows up a little out of breath, it's entirely because of the sprinting, not the little show of wandering touch of course.

And she's at least got the presence of mind to dip into a bodega and come out with a paper bag carrying supplies.

She doesn't really work to sneak, no, and really... given the faint tinkling of glass bottles jostling in the bag, stealth's a little out the window anyway. But she picks her path up to the landing, then up that ladder towards the roof.

Aaaand... it's Batwoman. Oh, sure, her hair's cropped short, apparently that cowl's got hair extensions as some play at deceit, but that facial structure's striking. She's wearing a comfortably well-worn leather jacket over a tanktop, and a pair of faded jeans, and some thick-soled boots to add a bit of height... and kick people.

She just sort of stands there, arm cradling the bag against her torso, hips cocking to such a similar angle to the night before. "Hey... The cape detaches. I could _totally_ get comfortable on your couch in my costume."

What? She's got to defend her costume's honor.

Pamela Isley has posed:
The line drops and Ivy pushes up from her natural couch to make her way barefoot towards a small chest hidden behind roots of one tree. The only tree actually. They bend and bow out to allow her access, kneeling down to sift around inside for what probably counts as her only clothing that isn't grown from the ground. A white t-shirt is pulled over her voluptuous chest, which could be said to sag a little since it's spring and she's got this whole fertility vibe in these months... And a pair of jeans that she's not worn in... ever... since she's tearing the tag off as she unfolds them. They pull up over her butt with a few hops.

She'd made promises, regardless of how she may have teased a finger across her chest, that she would wear clothes. She will not, however, put on shoes. She draws the line at foot-ware.

Her dark hair is pulled into a ponytail, vines slithering off her fingers to wrap around the bundle near her scalp so all that damp red hair dangles from high in an arch. Lastly is a pair of black framed 'Buddy Hollie' style glasses.

She's moving back towards her couch when Kate appears over the side of the building not too terribly long after she'd hung up. Ivy's smirking, hands on her hips, "I'm sure it is. You look.." Furrowed brow, green eyes moving over her features, "Huh... Kate Kane.. of course you are." She nods, "What's that?" The bag.

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate quirks an eyebrow slightly and grins, "You changed... classic white t-shirt looks good on you." Don't say it looks good off... don't say... stop thinking it, Kate... just... stop thiiiinking. Focus on the glasses. No, don't focus on the glasses, don't focus on how Ivy can rock 'Hipster girl from the bookstore' as easily as 'wild plant goddess incarnate'.

Kate focuses instead on jangling the bag and shrugging lightly, "It's nothing exciting I'm afraid. Just some seltzer... not hard. Soft. Grapefruit flavour. And some red licorice."

She steps forward and murmurs dryly, "I wasn't sure if you were thinking about Netflix, and figured you might want some sweets if we were watching a movie." She lets her gaze sweep around... or, you know, forcibly tears it away to take in the surroundings, "This is... nice." Kate's lips quirk and she sighs out, "I should probably go on some boring, lengthy speech about the _seriousness_ of secret identities. But really... I'm trusting you. Plus, at a certain point... well, what, if people find out I'm Batwoman and that we're hanging out... what? They're going to go after you to get to me? Or go after me to get to you? Anyone dumb enough to do that isn't going to be a threat to either of us."

Pamela Isley has posed:
Ivy does so love that struggle in Kate's eyes when she's trying to look away from her, in any direction really. She is not, in all actuality, a very self-centered woman. Attention has never really been specifically important to her, most of the time, but she does enjoy it quite a bit selectively. Right now being one of those moments. Her smirk almost becomes an actual grin as Kate looks down, up, over, down... "You okay?" She teases her, crossing the rest of the distance to the unmasked vigilante.

There's a Television hidden beneath tightly woven branches that create a water tight barrier. "The signal isn't great up here, unfortunately... and I'm pretty sure Frank is looking at porn." Because when isn't he? She reaches out for the bag, but drags a finger along the curve of Kate's hand.

"Do you like iZombie? I've been watching it.." Her other hand flips, abstract, silly.. "Nonsense, I know, but I find the idea that a zombie doctor eats brains to solve crimes quite amusing."

On the subject of secret identities, however. She tilts her head. Her grin spreads just a bit, "I could say I wont tell, that I wouldn't use it against you if I fall back on my old ways... I could say I wont fall back on my old ways, even... but there's only one way you can know for sure."

She reaches out to trace her jaw, then turns to start towards the couch. "And that's to watch iZombie with me."

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate snorts out softly, "Well, he's... a... grown plant? Wait... he _is_ a plant how is... no no, I'm not going to ask, I'm not going to think about it. Please distract me before that knowledge achieves permanent presence in my brain."

And then Kate snorts out softly, "Would you believe it's in my queue? You know, going out on patrol all the time really cuts into my schedule for actually getting to _watch_ any of the shows I hear about." She heaves out a sigh, like it's the world's greatest misfortune. But instead, her eyes narrow slightly as that grin spreads. As that teasing 'threat' purrs out, and Kate springs in... well, not a spring. It's really almost a sashay, her hips don't quite hit 'swinging metronome' levels of range of motion, but it's not quite a saunter and it's not quite a leap, and it's entirely meant to bring her nearly hip to hip with her hostess.

And let her reach out to hook a thumb into Ivy's far belt loop of those jeans as she hums and murmurs dryly, "Well, see? I'm taking a night off patrolling, keeping you out of trouble _and_ getting to watch some TV." She clicks her tongue and murmurs, "Damn, I guess I'm just going to have to keep going along with your fiendish evening. You know, to make sure you don't misuse your newfound knowledge... I'll have to keep right on top of you."

Pamela Isley has posed:
"He is an asshole." Ivy corrects all of Kate's assessment of Frank, who is over doing something and looking like he's not trying to watch them. Badly. Because he is absolutely watching them, murmuring something inappropriate to himself that they could certainly make out if they tried. When it's clear he's been called out, however, he throws his vines up and makes his way towards the exit, "I don't have to take either of your shit. I'mma go fuck with April... NO, not in a WEIRD way... pervs." Ivy just rolls her eyes.

She has better things to focus her attention on anyways, like Kate's finger sliding into her belt loop. It drags her back a step to be hip to hip with the unmasked vigilante. She turns side long and raises a brow, Frank stops in his retreat hearing all that inuendo, "On second thought, maybe I should st-" Ivy points at him and glares... eyes narrowed. His vines go up in the air, -art moving downstairs. That's what I was gonna say." And he does.

"Sorry...." She sighs and forces a smile, which changes to something softer and more inviting shortly after the door to the stairs closes. Turning to face Kate once they're at the couch. "There's plenty of room." There is, three cushions worth. "Don't feel like you need to use any of it though." Sliding down to sit right at the edge, she slides her palm on the cushion directly beside her hip.

"I might slip away when you're not looking." Teasing.

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate just shakes her head silently, biting her lower lip tightly... because bursting into laughter would totally ruin her cool, worldly, 'Not at all amused by Frank's antics' vibe. Instead she rolls her eyes and murmurs dryly, "I _was_ going to ask how you tell a plant is a guy, but... yeah, Frank's... yeahhhh."

She does narrow her eyes when he tries to weasel his way back out... but then just smiles all the wider when Ivy points and glares and takes charge. Nope... definitely not going to mind watching Ivy take charge. Not at all.

And then it's time for Kate to let her own eyebrows perk up, and she sinks down onto the couch... and lets her arm wrap right around that waist again, and give a snug little _squeeze_ as she murmurs softly. "Oh, really now? I see how it is. All dressed up so you can make your quick escape and blend in with the crowds on the streets." Green eyes glint as she makes a show of looking up and down, "I mean, you do rock jeans and a t-shirt well.... but I'm not going to lie. I really prefer your... natural style." She pauses for a long moment, "If you say I look better with the cape and cowl, I'm going to... something." Eyes flick to the TV for a moment. "I'm going to ask you what's going on in the show every ten seconds. I'll do it. Don't think I'm bluffing."

Pamela Isley has posed:
Frank is peeking through the window on the door. His head appears every few seconds when he jumps to see through it, he's kind of a little guy... They are, however, out of view. So after a bit, he does go down to bug April.

Leaving Kate all alone up here in Venus' trap. Her lips pucker into a smug grin when the arm ensnares her waist and tugs her closer. She complies with a quirk of one perfect, red brow. Absently pulling a bit of thread on her brand new jeans, "I bought them just for tonight." She explains, turning to look at the woman beside her with that same smug expression, "You really should be more clear about the required attire..." Once done with that thread, she reaches out to run her fingers along the leather jackets hem. Right down the front, opening it with a tilt of her head as if really inspecting the quality.

"Well, there is something rather dashing about a woman in a cowl, I must admit." She starts to tease, but her green eyes flick up to center right on Kate's, "But getting you out of that costume has been a singularly enjoyable experience..." She releases the jacket.

"Now to see how long before I can get you out of this..." Her finger moves up and down to indicate what she currently wears. Leaning in close, "Want to take bets?"

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate's eyes narrow, her breath going shallow, soft... she just drinks in those words... and reaches out to pluck in return, a brief little tug up at the back of that t-shirt... not enough to do more than offer a brief brush of open air against lower back. "That's a dangerous game, isn't it? I mean, if I guess too long and... lose... how will I ever live with myself?"

She snorts softly and shakes her head, fingertips tracing along the waistline of those jeans, purposely dancing along the fabric alone, never once slipping to brush skin, "Besides, while I'm sharing secrets it only seems fair to let you have another one."

Her lips quirk in a sardonic little smirk and she murmurs softly, "You could get me out of whatever you wanted to with one simple magic word."

Eyebrows lift in feigned daring as she murmurs out, "Or is the infamous Ivy too headstrong and capricious in her wicked, wild ways to say _please_?"

And then Kate's drawing a deeper breath, one that almost shudders into her lungs. Because this is definitely playing with fire.

But then, that's why all those PSAs about not playing with fire are about fire alarms and smoke detectors and the boring mundanity of real fire. Because deep down... it's just too _fun_ to play with sometimes.