#mcthernatures

[morefearless]

@mcthernatures​

“ I know SOMETHIN’ you could do. Somethin’ dangerous. Somethin’ bad. Something like... ME. ” 

[pesteringjester]

@mcthernatures liked for a starter!

“An’ then she called me fickle! Fickle! Of all the things. Like she’s got any room ta talk. Always throwin’ us unda’ the bus for her stupid Bat-boyfriend. Can ya believe her?” Huffing, Harley slumps back on the couch, shaking her head with a bitter mumble.

“Gets one smooch from a superhero an’ suddenly she’s got the moral high ground or somethin’. S’ridiculous, right, Pammy? Whateva’ happened ta chicks before dicks?” 

[godbloodednope]

❛ it will stop your breath, how cruel i can be. ❜

A rough little laugh expels from the god's mouth. She has no breath she must breathe, that’s the thing. The implication of such a thing is juvenile-- she needn’t even consider it. Her teeth are sharp when they flash in a grin-- a predator of the fauna, a violent thing, she does not tread lightly as deer do at the plants, careful to never crush them. She is not the sort to be gentle-- she does not walk with soft feet, and even her lightest steps bring with them the implication of harm. She has never truly cared. And she doesn’t think she ever will, in spite of a loose communication she has with the animal world. 

“Nuh,” She says responsively, a flick of dark hair. She can create things, too, you know-- she has an overall command of flesh and blood, of biology and bile and the living, to some portion the dead. She is something, she is someone, she is without precise explanation, she knows this, “Cruel-ty is uh kinda thing I know pretty well.”

Cruelty is her middle name. To be vicious, to be cold, to be hard. She has known so little tenderness in her life. Her eyes are sharp and sharper, the color of the plant-life’s underbrush, of moss beneath boot-heels.

“An’ I don’ gotta breathe.”

[cruelonlytobekindarchived]

She didn’t ask because she wanted anything sacrificed. She asks because she’s afraid. She asks because she is less afraid where Ivy is concerned. She asks because, privately, she thinks Ivy is one of the scariest people she’s ever known. And scary person holds dominion over scary things.

“I don’t think it’s a bomb.”

She doesn’t. She thinks it’s worse. She thinks it’s a personal timebomb. She thinks it’s planted here by someone she never wants to hear from again. She thinks the cycle is going to start over. She thinks she’s going to get bad again.

(He’s out, after all.)

“I think it’s informational. I don’t want to touch it or go near it or think about it. I want to remain utterly ignorant to its contents. I want to refuse to allow it anywhere near my life or my mind or my person.”

She thinks it’s from Hannibal. A gift, now that he’s free. And inevitably found her. (Killing someone will do that to you. Put you back in the papers. Ping the good doctor’s google results.)

“I’m sure it’s innocuous.”

She is.

Don’t make her humiliate herself by being more honest.

The dogs bark from inside briefly. Hear a passing noise. (Alana jumps, and then stuffs her hands in the pockets of the shorts.)

monstricidal:

“I’m not touching it. I don’t know who it’s a gift from,” the grim side of her mouth twitches with the force of her frown, a false Glasgow smile carved hard into a side of her mouth. It’s healed, but it’s shadow is still present and rough. A fault line stabbed into her cheek. Tommy Elliot has done his very best to minimize the gruesome nature of the injury, but a bad patient doesn’t mix no matter how good the doctor.

Her arms are crossed in front of her. It’s cold, chilled. The night air bites, especially since all she’s wearing is a very loose men’s shirt and a pair of men’s basketball shorts, hair loosely waved from a day or prior conditioning.

“I don’t even know what it is. I just know I have enough unsavory friends and enemies to trust anything that’s unmarked and closed. Anything unfamiliar to me is threatening. I don’t care about how distinct that makes my paranoia sound.”

She’s scared. A little.

“Could you just— I don’t know— get it… very away from me… or my car…. or my dogs?”

Her tone is smaller.

“I’d hate to ask the favor but I can’t—“

Go near it.

Unwilling to risk herself or her dogs or her damned car of all things, but perfectly willing to ask Ivy to potentially sacrifice her children. All too ready to sacrifice the green she’d use to get this out of her way. If it blows up in the good doctor’s face, what a crime. If it blows up and takes out Ivy’s creations, it’s just another day in Gotham, isn’t it?

Typical.

She huffs, a sharp, sneering sound and glances away.

“I’m not the one to ask for favors. Around these parts, that goes to tall, dark and lockjaw.”

Ivy is, generally, ambivalent at best. She’s certainly not a rescue cats from trees or pretty doctors from suspicious baggage kind of gal.

“Might I suggest calling TSA? If you see something, say something and all that jazz.”

Cool alto, unaffected. ( Privately annoyed. )

[dandelionwritexs]

There’s a large slice of pizza folded in her right hand, feet skipping along the pavement, trying to keep up with Ivy’s lengthy strides. The redhead is only a few inches taller than her, but her legs? They’re insane. A bite out of the 'za and she stumbles a little over her own feet, letting out easy laughter. 

“YIKES, gotta slow down a little.”

Thoughts spoken out loud, not necessarily to be responded to - that’s sort of her thing.  

Harley’s blue eyes gaze over the trees that line the sidewalk they’re traveling. It’s not windy, she doesn’t think, so why are the trees moving like that? Green leaves swell and shift, some falling from their branches. A pale hand reaches out to grasp her friend’s bicep. Usually Ivy’s got more intuition with the plant things. 

“Is that your doin’ or is somethin’ up?”  

requested by @mcthernatures​ | autumn starters | 🌳   | our muses wondering at the foliage. 

[darknght]

@mcthernatures​ ASKED “your world doesn’t make sense.”

“OUR world, Pamela.” he replies quietly, stepping forwards, being MINDFUL of who she was and what she could do. the toxins were still poisonous to him, even if her mind hypnosis was not. so, he had to be as careful as he could be. but he wanted her to know that he was here, he was here if she needed to talk, even though they were supposed to be enemies. 

“It’s our world. And yes, I suppose you could say that.” he crosses his arms, being careful. “Come with me. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” 

[morefearless]

@mcthernatures​

“I’m not sorry for LOVIN’ him. But I am sorry for HURTING you.” Again, and again, and again.

[supercatburglar]

OFF-AIR. //

i have a brunch in a little bit, so once i get back from that and running to the grocery, i’m gonna get to the replies i owe here and at poison ivy ( @mcthernatures, if you aren’t following her you shooould~ ) for garbage day and a couple other threads.

have a beautiful sunday morning, guys!

[anansixpowered]

"You are all about animals, I care about nature. You and I should be on the same page." Were it not that one was a hero, a legend: the other a far cry from both.

@mcthernature

“The difference between us is that I don’t hurt people without a very good reason.” Amaya said, crossing her arms over her chest.

[futuredivined-blog]

mcthernatures replied to your post:ok but who volunteers to let barbara test her...

ivy. tied up in the alley. she can’t possibly escape. xD

      DRAPES herself on the nearest object. ‘come here often?’

[darkestofknights-blog]

@mcthernatures 

     “Ivy.” He squints for a moment behind the cowl, his head tilting just a little. “What’re you doing up here?” 

[jxkesxver-blog]

@mcthernatures​

The common room was, as the Warden called it, a place for harmonious social living. What a laugh. This week Joker’s favourite pastime had been having Harley come drape herself over him when IVY was there. It had been a fun GAG, but it had resulted in him and Harley being banned form shared recreation time she was bugging him anyway.                          “What’s up Pammy - you’re looking positively green today.”

[morefearless]

@mcthernatures​ said: “sometimes i envy your forgetfulness.”

Hey now, that ain’t nice! Harley’s face contorts like she’s swallowed something sour, and now it’s stuck in her throat. So, maybe the heist hadn’t been the best idea! Maybe she forgot the money, and it burned to ZILCH with the rest of the building. They weren’t destined to be Gotham’s next billionaire gal pals anyways! 

“Now, there ain’t no reason to be slewin’ NONSENSE around! I can’t always be the brains and the beauty, you know!” 

[withdiiamonds]

⊙

Send me ⊙ and my muse will bold all that applies to yours // Status: accepting

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[pesteringjester]

taking root ;

@mcthernatures ; 

This is really nothing new. Harley shows up unannounced at Ivy’s home on a regular basis; it’s just one of the many hazards of being her friend. (Feed a stray, and they start coming back for more.) 

What is new, though, is how desperate Harley sounds when she calls out a “Pammy?” into the living room. Harley never enters through the door; she’s already halfway through the window when she makes herself known. But instead of her usual grin, she’s wearing a bitten lip and troubled eyes, and she looks for all the world like a lost puppy. 

Whatever’s going on, it’s clearly got her rattled. 

“Pammy, are ya home?” She wriggles the rest of the way in, searching for a sign of Ivy’s presence. “Hellooo? Ugh, please be home, please be home--”