11711/Overgrowth

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Overgrowth
Date of Scene: 23 June 2022
Location: Somewhere beneath Gotham City.
Synopsis: A strange, plant-like growth has taken root beneath Gotham City. For what is potentially the first time in history, Pamela Isley is not to blame.
Cast of Characters: Pamela Isley, Kate Kane, Tim Drake




Pamela Isley has posed:
Present Day, 2:18AM. Somewhere Beneath Gotham City.

Have you felt it? That movement beneath the earth? It's been crawling through Gotham City for some months now. Slow, at first, but ever-stirring. What started as nigh-imperceptible tremors across the ground have become something greater. On those hot days where Gotham City is bathed in sunlight, those streets have begun to vibrate. To quiver. It's a subtle thing, though. Most who walk Gotham City are likely not to even notice. But there are titans that walk here. And, of course, the greatest detectives of all.

It likely would appear on some sort of scanners. In plain sight, and clearly not hiding. A single, large biomass -- equivalent to several fully-grown redwoods -- just beneath the city. The location is curious, though. That biomass sits nowhere remarkable at all, really. The closets landmark is, ironically, a mom-and-pop bagel shop that sells an Everything + 1 bagel. How can you add one to everything?

Ask Ma Hoffman. It's her recipe.

Further investigation of the sewers would likely have lead to the discovery of previously uncharted caverns beneath the pavement. And these are not caverns borne out of time and erosion, no. These have been dug. Not with steel and pick and chisel, but with something far more organic. Vines and roots bore knots through stone as effectively as any drill. Water flows from storm drains down, down, down, through the dark that yields to light.

A grove beneath the earth. A strange, alien tree and flowers that seem to react to the presence of others. Their petals remain open, long spindley stamens and pistils emitting a chilly bioluminescence until one approaches. And then? The close up. Darkness prevails until whoever triggered that response is nearly ten feet away.

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate Kane has been a little too occupied recently, and she's willing to admit it to herself. Taking on the weight of being the second in command to the Birds of Prey? Learning Oracle's filing system? That would have been enough. But then Kate went to space, and fought sharks.

Space sharks. Not regular sharks. That would have been unfair. And between that, and keeping up public appearances as Kate Kane, woman of style and fashion, and also talented employee of Kane Capital?

She's sure Batman would have handled his shit /and/ noticed the tremors, the biomass, and probably immediately known what to do about it.

That's probably not true. Kate's probably being too hard on herself. But making her way into, and then through Gotham's sewers isn't exactly great for one's mood and self-image. Kate, at least, thinks ahead enough to send out an alert that she's found 'something' underground and is going to check on it. And that backup would be appreciated.

You know, because that Everything + 1 bagel is the only thing keeping New York City from being even more insufferable about how good their bagels are. Not because she's concerned or anything.

If Kate's Heads Up Display didn't have an accurate clock on it, she'd think she'd been down in the dark for days, following the winding path of vines and roots, fingers tracing the grooves and lines.

Oh, this is fine. This is great. The light ahead, the rushing sound of water... maybe this all tunneled back to some sort of forgotten lab or-

Or it's a giant alien-looking bioluminescent plant. But who could /possibly/ have such mastery of the botanical world?

Kate perches on the edge of the drop into the glowing cavern, she brings a hand to her throat, triggering the built in microphone, "I don't know if anyone's down here and can hear this but... there's a /very/ big, definitely /not/ usual plant growth under the city. That or a wizard teleported something from another dimension down here." She heaves out a low sigh...

It's not like it's getting any less there while she considers all this. She steps forward, cape flaring out, gliding down into the light... only to find it replaced by darkness as she gets closer.

Why couldn't it just be some guy who really likes riddles?

Tim Drake has posed:
    Part of Tim's routine -- yes, he knows it's not smart to have set patterns to your behavior but he is a creature of habit -- involves a daily walk. Usually it's just down the street to pick up coffee, or lunch from his favorite food truck, but fresh air's good for you. Supposedly.

    Okay, maybe not the air in Gotham.

    The point is, Tim had ample opportunity to notice the tremors. And so he did, because noticing things is kind of his, y'know, Thing. Plus after a review of the seismic sensor data he has access to, there's definitely someTHING going on.

    What it is, though, now that's the question. And the kind of question that Tim lives for. He rules out the most obvious cause first, because nobody needs another No Man's Land. Oof.

    So. Not an earthquake, at least in the normal sense. Some gentle annoyance aimed at his magical contacts confirms their various mystical senses haven't been tingling. No cultist activity (mass-sacrifice?), no suspicious technology shipments coming into the city (secret mining operation?), nothing. Which means Tim has to unspool himself from in front of his computer and actually go investigate the old-fashioned way. Sleuthing time.

    "Well, I thought I'd ruled out natural causes, but..." is the answer Batwoman gets over the comms. Within a few seconds Red Robin's location ping picks up on her radar as he descends further into the sewers, coming in from a direction roughly opposite Kate. "It's probably not a wizard," he adds, a moment later.

    Red Robin pauses to take another scan and sample of the plant growth, eyes narrowed behind the lenses of his domino mask. Between that and the rebreather unit attached over his nose and mouth, he's not suffering too much from mucking around in the sewers. Still, he has his cape tied around his waist, because... look, it's pretty gross.

Pamela Isley has posed:
The funny thing about silence is it's completely relative. For a good portion of their descent into the sewers, and the descent through the caverns carved below, it might very well seem silent to Batwoman and Robin. But when Kate Kane presses down and enables that little microphone, calling out into the void below, they'll learn it was anything but. And that's because, in that moment, it -gets- quiet.

It's as if the very clay and soil around them heard that voice. What had been a tunnel of faintly echoing skittering and slithering goes quiet, and the silence is positively deafening. All around, those beautiful and strange flowers have retreated in on themselves, and only a single source of light beams up from the dark below. From its structure, it seems to be one of those light-emitting flowers that line the walls and ceilings and floors in increasing density the further own one gets. The yawning maw of the cavern that both Tim and Kate stand upon seems to be where the bulk of that water has flown through as well. Cascading down, filtered through vines and brush and flowers, crystal clear and purified runoff water pours into what looks to be a slowly-filling pool.

An instant later, a single sound pierces the dark. Like that silence, it is deafening, but only because it replaces one with another. The petals of that flower open up, and out from it snakes glowing tendrils that climb up towards where the two are standing. At its very tip, with bare feet pressed to a smooth, rounded, glowing bulb, is Pamela Isley.

Poison Ivy.

"I knew Bats prefer to nest in caves, but Robins? You're quite a long way from blue skies down here, little bird," comes Pamela's sultry little purr. She might look... different. Red hair and green eyes, yes, but that face, neck, and shoulders? Peachy white.

Kate Kane has posed:
Batwoman doesn't bother to cut her microphone, so Tim gets to /hear/ her groan at the crack about natural causes. And Kate's blood runs cold. Because /she/ hears her groan like it's a gunshot in the middle of a clean lab. But hey, she's got a big cavern of ominous plants to dive into... and they know she's coming.

It's almost a relief when she lands in the darkness, and finds herself facing that glowing bulb and a familiar figure atop it.

Almost.

She doesn't reach for her utility belt, doesn't strike a defensive pose. She just stares, lips pressing in a slight, slim line. It's concerned. Worried even.

Which would be fine, if it wasn't directed at someone who's seen her make that expression before, in far less... costumed crime fighting circumstances. The change in skin colour? That just increases the severe look on Kate's face. And it might be quiet in the cavern, but she can't really hear it... or maybe she can. Because the thud of her pulse is more felt than heard.

"Ivy. Pamela. Dr. Isley..." She clears her throat. At least the cowl means her eyes are opaque white lenses, and the concerned furrow of her brow is hidden. She looks stern. Authoritative. "I don't usually deal with bylaw enforcement... but there's /no/ way the public utilities aren't going to be upset at all this unauthorized excavation. Did you get a permit?"

Playful banter. Keep things calm. Hope this is all... some kind of misunderstanding.

If you tell yourself it's possible, maybe you'll be right, Kate.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Separated across the gulch, as it is, Red Robin can only lift his hands up in a sort of uncomfortable shrug towards Batwoman. His expression is hidden but the gesture still manages to communicate the sort of downtrodden "Welp" that he'd say, otherwise.

    They've really done it now.

    His lenses adjust to the sudden influx of light in a millisecond or two, and then he, like Kate, is left staring at Poison Ivy as she makes her entrance. And he's taking an unspoken cue from Batwoman here, hands falling to his sides without making a move to the staff stowed at the small of his back. Or any of the other various armaments stowed away in his utility belt.

    "Oh, you know. I get around." Tim clucks his tongue, chin tilting to the side. It's a particularly bird-like sort of movement, because sometimes playing into the act is useful. The comforts of familiarity might just be the thing to lower defenses, should it come to that.

    But Red Robin would prefer it didn't, honestly. He takes a steadying breath and then musters up a "That came out wrong," his tone effusive with humor. Very much old-school Robin, not the darker, more obsessive persona he's taken on since adding a descriptor to the front of his codename.

    We won't get into the whys of that particular decision.

    "Things are getting a little destabilized up top, Dr. Isley. Even with the structural improvements made after No Man's Land was repealed, there's only so much the foundations can take."

Pamela Isley has posed:
Pamela Isley wouldn't be Poison Ivy without a keen sense for others. Manipulation requires empathy, strangely enough. She can sense worry and hesitation in Kate, and something more akin to distrust in Tim. And Dr. Isley is not entirely quick to quiet their concerns. "Hello Kate," she says, here voice a sappy, syrupy and warm. She reaches a hand up to delicately pull some of that ruby red hair from her slender shoulders, peering towards the caped woman before her from behind long, dark eyelashes. "A permit? For this?" she wonders, and looks down beneath the grove beneath her. Most of the flowers remain closed, though a few have begun to open their petals once again. Those long, spindly stamen lift up, gravity defying, flicking and swaying in the dark.

"...Hmmmh, well, you know how messy it can get with bureaucracy. All red taped and greased palms. Politicians," Pamela says, and bristles. A glance is given over her shoulder towards the bird-like motions of Robin, and in certain light, Pamela's eyes give that same eerie bioluminescent glow as the very bulb she stands on.

"So you do, Little Bird," she says with a half smile. Only when Robin begins to speak of topside disturbances does Pamela's body language shift into something less secretarial sexpot and more... annoyed. She tosses her hair and gives a little sigh.

"I know, darlings. I felt it the same as you. These are... not mine, I'm afraid. Something new, but," she reaches up and stead of pulling away from the metahuman's touch, the little glowing tendrils allow her to softly stroke along their length.

"Something beautiful. But invasive, I think. A danger to those above. I am hoping to... speak with them. And see if they will grow elsewhere. Away, perhaps. It's good the two of you came when you did, in fact." Why?

"Because I need your help."

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate doesn't groan out when Ivy uses her name... because maybe that's a good thing. She's talking at least, and the plants aren't opening up to reveal razor sharp teeth and ravenous appetites. That's at least promising. Kate shrugs helplessly, voice a touch strained, like she's trying to hold her voice level but it's pretty clear she's got a feeling Ivy's... different. And different is worrying. "Well, I mean, it's excavation, right? There's all those signs about calling before you dig."

She at least holds back from pointing out Pam didn't call /her/ when coming back into town. After all, coffee would have been nice, but clearly Dr. Isley's been busy.

And for a brief moment, Kate's faith in... wild, baseless hoping is rewarded! Kind of. Pamela wants help.

And those plants are /totally/ weird alien plants probably. Of course.

But hey, if you can't team up with the most famous ecoterrorist around to deal with strange plants, who /can/ you team up with?

Kate's shoulders relax a little, not quite a slump, but she's less... 'tense enough to hold a helicopter in place', "Well that's... worrying. I mean, there... are a /lot/." She looks up towards the heights of the cavern and sighs out, "...You don't need us to try and lift them out do you? I don't know how many grappling hooks you /think/ we keep in our belts..."

Tim Drake has posed:
    Behind his mask, Red Robin's eyebrows go up. It's less about Ivy outing Batwoman's secret identity and more that Kate is on a *first name basis* with her, which begs all kinds of questions. Questions that, prudently, Tim will save for later. Much as he'd like to pester Kate with them now.

    He remains standing back, for the time being. If Kate has a personal relationship that she can lean on here then Tim won't intrude; instead he busies himself with further observation of the plants surrounding them. There's only so much he can do with just his domino, but at least there will be a wealth of video footage to review should it be necessary. And the samples he's taken so far.

    All the more useful if Pamela is telling the truth and these aren't her doing. His weight shifts from one foot to the other as he cranes his neck, peering about with narrowed eyes. For now, while he might continue to be distrusting to some degree, outwardly he makes the decision to accept what Ivy's said at face value. "Terran origin?" he asks, on the off-chance she might be able to sense that somehow. He crouches down to look deeper into the cavern. "I'm not sure logistically it's possible, not in one piece. Though if, uh, they managed to get down here on their own..."

    Briefly, his mind is consumed with concern about misgendering a plant. Is that... can you even... later, later.

    "Maybe they can be convinced to make their way back out along similar routes? What can we do to help?"

Pamela Isley has posed:
If Kate Kane is looking for something familiar and comforting in Pamela, she won't find it. Not in this moment. Indeed, the woman does likely seem... different since last they met. Physically is likely the most obvious. Her green skin replaced not-quite-entirely by peachy white. Only towards her extremities does that pigmentation return -- fingertips, hands, forearms. Toes, feet, legs and thighs. Her eyes flick back in Kate's direction when the woman speaks, and she turns her chin down, looking towards a little petal she's caught between her fingertips. "They have spread quickly. Aggressively. Their root systems grow up towards the city, while the body grows," she gestures beneath her feet, towards the dark expanse below. It's difficult to say how deep the cavern goes. Judging by that pool of water below, it may be near. But with how inky the dark is just beyond? It could go much, much deeper than that.

"I would not suggest extrication. Whatever this creature is, it seems to be sentient. I can communicate, but only just, which leads me to..."

Tim's comment about alien or terran gets a nod from Pamela.

"This is what I need help with. My own analysis has shown physiological similarities to plant cells," she explains, "As well as animal and fungal cells. A cell wall, but mitochondria instead of chlorophyll. Or at least something resembling them. And their growth pattern more closely resembles fungi than plants or animals," she offers. There's a soft sigh from Dr. Isley.

"It's terribly vexing, I must admit. But my level of access is nowhere near as exhaustive as your employer's. I would be grateful if you could compare it against whatever registry he has on alien life and see if we can discover any similarities."

She sits backwards on a broad leaf that has opened up behind her. A close observation might see that it seemed to have almost anticipated her movement, extending a surface to sit upon the moment before she'd done it herself. Ivy drags a lazy middle finger along the surface of a nearby vine and smears its dew between it and the pad of her thumb.

"If it cannot be relocated or convinced to grow away from the city, I fear we may need to destroy it. Or, at the very least, cut it back."

Kate Kane has posed:
This keeps getting better and better. It's not really that Pamela's different that has Kate worried. Pamela is... well, nature incarnate. Seasons change, Pamela changes. It's poetic... or, at the very least, she's different but not trying to draw the city into a sinkhole. Kate can work with different but not trying to destroy Gotham.

And as Pamela explains, Kate's gaze locks... narrows... eyes the plants with newfound concern. Sentient potentially alien plantlife... or plant-like. Oh boy. She reaches down to one of her belt pouches to pull out a small syringe and takes steps towards Pamela.

She holds her hand up, palm up, fingers open, offering the syringe to Ivy with a lopsided grin that's almost genuine in its casual cast, "Uhh... do you think you could... get it to give up a donation?" She's intent but calm.

Possibly because she's trying to run through who she could ask for insight on this that Tim doesn't know.

And it turns out, 'Batfamily' is a very apt term. Because really, they mostly know the same people. Well, that'll just make things easier, since they can run through one another's rolodex of options and not overlap unintentionally.

Tim Drake has posed:
    As the true expanse of the growth's spread is revealed, Red Robin's chin lifts, his gaze moving upwards. With the rebreather still attached to the lower half of his face he can't do any of a handful of thoughtful poses -- most of which involve his hand on his chin -- so instead he just stands there, wondering.

    "Like the spread of infection. Is this the original wound, or did it enter the body elsewhere?" he asks no one in particular. Then the tilt of his head turns, just slightly thoughtful. "Or the brain, with a nervous system splintering out from it, if you'd rather be more impartial. Either way, not something that belongs underneath Gotham."

    He crouches down to, once again, look over the edge into the deep dark depths of the cavern. Arm against his knee, he braces himself to lean out for a moment, careful, before he pulls back to the relative safety of his perch. As he does so, he says, "We should send down a few Oracle drones, try to map the growth as much as possible." For this he looks to Batwoman; while Tim and Barbara are close, Kate is Babs's right-hand woman.

    And Tim appreciates the chain of command, even if in his own obsessive way he's partial to asking for forgiveness over permission.

    He stands up, hands on his hips. "Well, it seems to like you at least. They?" His nose wrinkles, the expression hidden. "I'm really not sure the proper way of addressing an invading possibly-alien biomass," he mutters.

    Shaking his head, Red Robin steps back from the ledge. "Do you get any sort of sense of... purpose? Anything beyond 'exist, survive, thrive' I suppose. Some sort of hint to how it got here, or why it's here?"

    Kate's offer of the syringe earns a supportive nod from Tim. More samples are always better, and a sample from the source? Better still.

Pamela Isley has posed:
Pamela reaches for the offered syringe and holds it thoughtfully. Her foot shifts against that glowing sac beneath her, and she applies a bit of forward pressure with the forward pad. There is a shifting in the mood of the place when that syringe is inserted. A sort of tension that any organism keenly aware of its extremities might feel if it were punctured. But Pamela works quickly and, like a pediatrician delivering a shot, it's over as quickly as it begins. The entire body of the syringe now filled with glowing fluid, Pamela twists off the sharp of the needle and caps it with a click. Both are handed to Kate Kane, and Ivy's attention shifts back to the sac she'd punctured. While some of the fluid seems to have dribbled out from the site, a second press of her foot against its flesh confirms her suspicion.

The wound had healed.

She listens to Tim's line of questioning with the same aloof dispassion she's been regarding Kate with. At least it's nothing personal. But when her eyes flick back in his direction, he can likely catch the bioluminescent sheen that reflects off the surface of her irises for a fraction of an instant. Her pupils narrow, adjusted to the dark.

"It is not our place to say what belongs and what does not. All life has the right to grow," she says. Her right leg swivels over her left and she lazily twists her wrist to regard the back of her hand. Fingernails are long and well-manicured -- painted a lovely shade of red.

"I am not certain it -- or they -- are particularly concerned with it one way or another," Ivy says. The growth nearest Kate and Tim has begun to... relax, somewhat. Similar to that around Ivy, flowers have begun to open up, reaching their long, spindly appendages outwards and illuminating the shadows with light. Those nearest to the two remain shut, but perhaps they are growing acclimated to this new presence.

Or perhaps, they're aware that these are Ivy's companions.

Ivy shakes her head at Tim's last question. "Nothing. I get a sense of -something-, but what it is is entirely... foreign to me. But there is a sound, like..." Pamela attempts to recreate it. Her lips seal and she pushes air through her vocal cords. A lovely sort of hum, really. One that she can feel resonate within her mouth and through her teeth. The organism around her shifts its color from pale blue to something a bit more yellow and, when she stops, back to blue.

"A pretty sound. I'm afraid I don't quite do it justice."