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♡♦♡ IF YOU HAD A MIDDLE NAME, IT WOULD BE 'WELCOME' ♡♦♡
After successfully escaping the deathly grips of Arkham Asylum and fighting Batman, Poison Ivy, real name Pamela Isley, has taken Harley Quinn to her home, an abandoned housing development built over an extremely toxic waste dump. It's a small place, just big enough for a kitchen, a decent-sized living room, a half bathroom and a bedroom. It's tiny, but it's home. Here, no one can bother them.
The whole space is filled with several rows of different potted plants hanging from the ceiling. The kitchen cabinets, the walls, the tiles on the floor, and everything else in the home is her favorite color, green. Plants and the color green just screams "Poison Ivy." Another indicator that the infamous flowery villain lives here are the countless green vines that hang from the sprinkler systems on the ceiling.
It was purposely placed there as decor and as a trap for whomever comes inside uninvited. If someone were to accidentally step over them, they'd trip, but wouldn't make it in time to fall to the ground, as the deadly vines would already be pulling them up by their feet and hanging them upside down on the ceiling.
The thermostat in the housing development has been cranked up to the max for tonight. The temperature in here drops significantly whenever night approaches, making it nearly cold enough to snow inside. So, making it warm and toasty is the best option to not freeze to death.
The two supervillains sit at the wooden dining table, facing each other as the host holds the guest's arm still, injecting something into a vein. She is carefully inserting a strong, pink chemical which simulates her own toxic immunity, allowing Harley to survive the toxic environment.
Harley Quinn, now in green sleeping shorts and a red t-shirt, whines at the pinching sensation, kicking her feet underneath the table as she struggles to pull her arm away. "I hate shots," she whines. "I hate shots!"
"Now, now," Ivy coos similarly to how a mother would to her child. "You're not immune to poison like I am and you won't last ten minutes here in Toxic Acres without my antidote." She has her long, flowing, red hair held up into a messy bun and her body wrapped in nothing but a bright red men's dress shirt that stops at her thighs.
Harley's whining stops as soon as Ivy slides the empty syringe out from her arm and sets it down onto a clean napkin. Sniffling and looking as though she is on the brink of tears, she watches her best friend stick an eco friendly bandage onto her inner arm, then pulls it back so she can rub over it. "You'd think after living with Mr. J, I'd be used to a little pain," she breathes out, frowning deeply.
Ivy watches with her concern. It's no secret how much she loved the Joker and his wildness. And even after he used her, abused her and spit on her name countless times, she knows that there is still a tiny part of Harley that misses him still. Even though she has already moved on and found herself a new obsession — Edward Cullen. Harley has already told her all about him, and let's just say she that isn't exactly his biggest fan.
