I must needs laugh in myself

[crossedstaves]

The Scarecrow wasn't in Robinson Park that night. He hadn't filled several containers with gasoline from different gas stations and carried them through the gates into the darkness. Nor did he leave two would-be muggers knocked out — merely knocked out, not twitching in a pile of their own appalling neuroses — behind him. He certainly did not

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[agreenhell]

Pamela may not be able to talk to the plants, to hear their pained screams as the cruel flames lick at them, devouring blade after innocent blade of delicate green grass and irreparably scorching through the bark of magnificent tall trees, but she can smell the smoke, the unmistakable mix of gasoline and wood burning on the breeze. And as she rushes from her nearby home (because really, where else would she choose to live? She sleeps in the greenhouse more often than not) she can hear the flames crackling through vegetation and feel their heat. She pauses to bite back a scream and fetch a bucket of water, knowing it will do precious little to fight the fire - but she has to try.

And after the water is gone, she tries stomping the fire out by herself, but it's spread too far. There's nothing she can do but wait for the fire service to notice and turn their harsh hoses on the park, and so she is left full of impotent rage.

Well, perhaps not that impotent. Poison Ivy realises that someone must have seen who did this, and she will

[crossedstaves]

The poked man's eyes flutter momentarily, but he doesn't rouse. There's no smell of alcohol about them, and no bottles, nor any signs of drug use. Their position on the ground suggests they were rolled off the path. Otherwise, they look... untouched. Possibly even restfully angelic! And awfully difficult to wake.

Eventually, Sleeping Beauty may be persuaded to arise — figuratively, anyway, he doesn't get off of the ground. Confused and lethargic, he asks thickly through a dry mouth, "What... what happened?"

[agreenhell]

Ivy kneels down beside him and adopts a sweet, worried tone of voice. "Gosh, I'm so glad you're alright. I was going to ask the same thing - what do you remember? Are... are you drunk?"

Even as she asks, she runs through the evidence in her mind - no signs of alcohol or drugs, and yet this is not the behaviour of someone waking from a normal sleep, not quite. And he was awfully difficult to wake. Her scientific curiousity is piqued as she considers the list of chemicals one could use to knock people out like this.

[crossedstaves]

It's difficult to say what might be running through his mind at this point. Not long ago, a skinny dude offered him his wallet and a weird mist shot out from his sleeve. Everything went black. Then, hello, nurse.

"Nnnno," he decides. "Feel... feel weird, though. Wasn't drinking. Was just... walking..." Yeah. At 4AM. "Ran into some guy..."

[agreenhell]

"Oh, you poor thing." She croons, all soft sympathy, and leans over (and since she's in her nightshirt and nothing else, such leaning may afford him a comforting view) to stroke his hair. That's right, he's safe with her now, and he can just tell her all about what happened. "What did he look like? Did he do something... weird to you?"

[crossedstaves]

Aw, heck yeah, man. This has all been totally worth it. To his still slumbering companion: sucks to your ass-mar.

"Uh..." Eyes up! Eyes up! "Skinny, dark hair, cheekbones. Had all these gas containers with him. That's... that's the last thing I remember, he sprayed something in my face."

[agreenhell]

"He sprayed you with something? How very unkind. Did you see which way he came into the park, honey?" She moves her hand to stroke his cheek, now, and leans in closer. He may be able to feel a little tingle where she touches him... but that can't be so bad, right?

[crossedstaves]

The tingle means she's someone special, which, of course, he could already tell. ♥ He relaxes against the surprisingly comfortable ground and answers.

"I think that direction..." Laboriously, he lifts his arm to point. "... we were waiting here for him..."

[agreenhell]

Ivy nods, making a note of the direction, and smiles gently. "Were you, now. And whatever were you going to do when he got here?" This is much less important to know, of course, but the longer she can keep him relaxed and talking, the longer she can keep touching him, and just lightly kiss his forehead... well, the more likely he'll die. It's such a shame that she doesn't have anything with her to make this go faster, but then again there's something enjoyable in using her own body's mild toxins like this. Whatever else they've been dosed with may help things along, too.

Of course, she'll need a clean blood sample to tell the skinny man's chemicals from her own more efficiently, so she'll have to take blood from the other man once this one is gone.