What was insanity? It was an arctic chill that stung the back of her mind wrapping a spiraling world into the frame of one woman with the power of nature itself. The jade hues of the ginger woman were devoid of any sort of sparkle while being forced into dark spaces away from the life-giving world outside. The cold was confining and desolate. Poison Ivy needed the green. She needed to be free.

Because of her past as a former botanist for Wayne Enterprises, Arkham Asylum noticed great interest in her case by them. The alleged incident that caused her change into Poison Ivy had been at the hands of a Wayne Employee, Dr. Jason Woodrue. She knew far too well how to manipulate the system. It was how she managed to gain early releases all the time. She'd offer to spend time in the greenhouse and on the grounds themselves just to be near her beloved green and promised them anything in return.

On this day, Ivy was going through her regular pat down before being allowed to go outside. Regulations stated that since she identified as female, a female officer had to ensure that Ivy had no contraband before heading outside to the grounds. That same officer would ensure she had no seeds on her when she came back inside. Ivy knew the routine. She allowed them to think they had an obedient inmate on their hands. There was always a point when this had to end.

Finally stepping outside even though she'd been under the protective gaze of the Arkham guards, was more freeing every day. The condemnation of being forced back inside was becoming more stifling each time it happened. The accursed collar around her neck cut off her connection to the green making her feel utterly alone. It was desolation pure and simple. No one understood how cruel this was to her. Ivy had no one to help her. She had to use her powers of manipulation and persuasion to succeed. Even that was still limited at best.

She was ready to take her promised shift outside. The humiliation of being searched before she went outside was not nearly as invasive as what Woodrue had done to her. She still maintained a disconnect so that she wouldn't lash out and snap the neck of those patting her down. She'd done that once before and spent a month in a dark hole that nearly killed her. no more. The inspection was over at the moment. It was time to go outside.

Stepping into the energizing rays of the sun brought a smile to Ivy's full lips. She stretched like a cat even as she moved toward the green. The sun's rays on her flesh was enough to reignite the glow that had been so demolished in her spirit. She moved toward the open greenhouse almost with a skip in her step. The guards watched her carefully.

Ivy couldn't wait to get back to that particular spot of the greenhouse. She stuck both hands deep into the soil. When she found what she was looking for her whole attitude completely changed. It was a hand held cultivator. Three metal prongs on the end had particularly vicious points. Her long fingers ran down the edge of the handle until she could clench it tightly in her dominant hand.

She'd been such a model prisoner in the greenhouse that she had only warranted one guard watching her. This guard was a man who noticed that she was doing something rather unusual over there so he decided to get a little closer. "HEY! What's going on over here?" He started walking toward her.

"Me? Oh I'm not doing anything, love. Just gardening." She was smiling broadly now. Just a little closer idiot…. As if her pheromone control was not negated by the collar, the man came closer. As soon as he was in range, she pulled the cultivator out of the ground and hit him in the face with it. One of the prongs hit his eye, putting it out immediately. He screamed in agony clutching at his eye.

With the guard down, Ivy ran as fast as she could out the backdoor of the greenhouse. She knew the area well enough to know that there was a drainage area that led to the sewer system. It was her only chance to escape. That damned collar was around her neck and she had no way to get it off on her own. She was going to get as far as she could as fast as she could.

The rapid footfalls of the fleeing woman filled her ears mocking the sound of her beating heart. She didn't see the rock until she tripped over it. The pain of the impact left her handicapped again. If she could get the damned collar off, the green would save her. She didn't want to go back to Arkham. She needed to be free or this time bound without the green would kill her.

She found herself in a larger part of the sewer filled with the dregs of society just staring at her. Ivy was dirty, smelly and desperate. How was she going to be free from her pursuers and have her connections reestablished with the green? They would easily throw her into a dank hole away from sunlight if they caught her. Poison Ivy was trapped.
 

"I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison "