"Alright, the rules of the game are simple," she told the small crowd of men surrounding her, all of them on their knees and staring up at her as if she were the very physical manifestation of the idea of beauty. Her wear was simple, a bright green t-shirt with the words Save the Rainforests of the World printed across the front, as well as gray jogging pants, for she had gone out for exercise during her search for potential volunteers. The gang of men had cornered her in an alleyway near the Metroplex Station on East Third in the Raven District, as had been her hope. Five of them, tough and muscular, well built, thugs who all had seen far worse days in their miserable lives. She held the makeup mirror in hand, clapping it open and closed again and again with a sort of rhythm to it, wondering how much pheromones inducement would be required. "I need help, and as much of it as you can give me. The schedule's tight and the stakes are high, but you'll have all the reason in the world to dedicate yourself to the task. I'm offering myself as a reward, you see."

She pulled her pants down just by a few inches, enough to flash them a quick view of her green underwear, before promptly pulling them back up as the five men began groping at the air in their entranced state, mumbling words that sounded more like the pleas of dogs. "Heel, boys. The winner gets to spend an evening of my company…in every way imaginable. And by in, I do mean in…" These words had been prepared well, for she would be using them again soon, come the Flower Ball… tonight was the big night.

They were shaking, their eyes rolling around in their head as their heartbeats pumped fast. Bane was standing beside the car in the back, ready in case the pheromones drove them to the point of pouncing. And she had her knife in hand…

"But before that beautiful moment comes, I have chores for you. I've made some enemies, it seems, during my time here. And who are they? Why, the human race, of course. Despicable, hated, repulsive in every way… well, I want you to help me eliminate the human race. I…I truly hope you all love me enough…to help me…"

"Y-yes…of course…" the biggest of the thugs said, his Duck Dynasty of a beard in hand as he tugged it nervously. His eyes were dilated. As were all of them. "Anything…for you…"

Ivy smiled, opening the mirror and blowing another great cloud of pheromones into the faces of the men. They all inhaled deeply, idiotic smiles upon their faces, their states drunken, and she wondered if they may pass out. If she could just induce enough into them, it could cripple their minds permanently… she had already tested it on three other men. The mind could only take so much before it was damaged on a permanent basis… If that came to be the case, then their bodies may adapt to it and she could use them on a long-term basis, but she would have to see how well they performed, first.

"Very well. Swear it to me."

They all jumped into the fray of babbling at once.

"I swear! I SWEAR!"

"ME! DO YOU HEAR ME!? I'LL DO IT!"

"SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU! I WANT HER TO HEAR ME!"

"LET ME DO IT FOR YOU!"

"CONCUR, CONCUR!"

"Boys, boys," she laughed, holding up her hands as she giggled. "Come now, where are your big boy voices? I know you all are just dying to serve me… in fact…" Inspiration. The Woodrue Tactic. Fear to succeed desire. She crouched down, in front of the biggest thug, and promptly kissed him passionately upon the lips. His eyes widened and he choked for a moment, and when she released him, a pleasant smile upon her face as she let him drop dead before his comrades, sprawled out upon the ground, his face pruned with the green venom that filled his veins, his friends backed away at once, all of them moving quickly with nervous expressions as they looked at their dead friend.

"Look at him. Go ahead, take a good observation, boys."

They obeyed, the four remaining thugs examining their dead companion and the poison that had killed him. They were suddenly looking troubled, but already Ivy was blowing another cloud of pheromones dust into their midst, and their expressions turned soft once more. The murder of their friend no longer seemed to register, as they turned their attention back to the woman they worshipped.

"Do you see the punishment I have bestowed upon him? Well, really, it wasn't much of a punishment, per say… I just had to make an example. I had to show you my power, so that you could see that I am not to be defied in any way. Now that you see what I can do, I hope his sacrifice will not have been in vein. Eden called him to be a shining light, to guide you in my way. His life… was for the future." She stroked the dead man's face as she gazed lovingly into his unseeing eyes. Kissed him upon the lips again. "I loved him… as I love you," she added, looking around at them, now that she was eye level, crouched upon her knees and hands. This alleyway was dark, and there were no windows on either side of the buildings surrounding them, so it was to be hoped that this empty street was truly empty indeed. "I will bring this fate upon any one of you who try to defy me. You will receive the Kiss of Death, and you will be powerless to stop it. Won't you?" she asked, more sensually to the closest living thug, a skinny man with greasy black hair. She began to pull his face towards her own, his mouth twitching ravenously, but his eyes showed a deadly amount of fear. His comrades watched on, also in fear, not moving to stop her.

Her lips came within an inch of his own, and his stale breath was filled with fear. He moaned a little, as he smelled the odor coming off of her lips. The foulness of it…and the beauty of it…

"Shall I kiss you too?" she whispered to him, stroking his face softly.

"Y-n-no-yes…" The man was out of it, his eyes dilating further, his face cold and trembling. Ivy smiled. Pushed him away lightly.

"After you kill for me," she promised. "Take lives, and in return, I will take yours. That is the reward I promise: the glory of dying from my kiss. Is that not the reward you desire more than anything?"

She stood up, waving her hips in front of them as they looked on with idolization. "So, then… you would worship not only me, but the idea of dying from me as well? That is the only reward that Poison Ivy has left for her worshippers: sealing you into your graves through my love for you. So, then… dedicate yourselves." She turned to face them, stretching her arms out wide, her eyes closed as she looked skyward. "Worship me!" she commanded.

The men all moved forward at once, bowing low and chanting her name.

"Ivy…"

"Poison… Poison Ivy…"

"Mother… Nature…"

"Mmh, yes, Mother Nature," she sighed to herself, enjoying their worship. "Tell me that you love me."

"I love you!"

"ME! ME!"

"LOVE YOU!"

"SO MUCH!"

"Tell me that you want me!" she said, more loudly, and once more, the concurred, proclaiming aspirations of desire and longingness. The demon that had become her smiled. She had reached that old level again. Once, she had forced the Come Agua into worship, and now, after all this time, it was happening again. The mammals of the Earth had come to give her the adoration she demanded, and their extinction was on the verge!

"Now, then, go and find those who would oppose me. That being the human race. Knock on doors and take them away to secret places. Ravage them in their homes. But kill them! Torment them, take from them their lives! This is my command to you, the command of the goddess of the New Eden! Kill them, and when you do, whisper my name. Whisper it so lovingly…" Her heart was racing. She wanted to kill too, so badly. She could kill them all, right here, right now… but she had to spare them for now. They were the first soldiers, and they had jobs to do. Once they were gone, she would have to go hunting: the kill instinct had set in. "Go, now! Slaughter the people of Gotham, boys. And when you do, come and find me. The Flower Ball, tonight, at the Gotham Arboreal Museum. That's my destination for the evening."

The men set off like ravenous animals, chanting their name in their maddened state. Ivy rubbed her hands together, grinning at the thought of what she had just did. She spun around, watching them run past Bane and the limo with intent speed, whooping and hollering as they set off to find pray.

"We did it, Bane," she told him, bowing before the titan in respect. "The end of the world has begun. Imagine, Bane, what I could do with the proper processing centers. We could easily make our way into one and charm a few of Gotham's finest engineers. Imagine what we could accomplish if my pheromones could be mass produced!" She closed her eyes, the thought of enslaving the human race breathtaking to the mind's senses. "Bane, I'm ravenous. How about you?"

She stopped in front of him, her eyes glinting as the two stared at one another. A silent understanding passed between them. Your desires are my own…

"Come on, Bane. The Flower Ball is starting soon. I need to get dressed. Let's see how much support we can get from the people of Gotham. All the money they'll throw at us… imagine what we can do with it. I'll buy one of those processing plants. And then…oh, then everything changes."

She popped open the door, greeting cheerfully to the corpse of the businessman who had been waiting there patiently and loyally, as always. "Hi, there, stinky, how's it flying? Bane, the door," she ordered in a mock of proper English. Bane closed the door behind her, and as he moved around the car to get into the driver's seat, she watched out the front windows shield the first fatalities that her soldiers could bring to the War. The greasy haired thug that she had threatened to kill as well was banging on a nearby door. As Bane stepped into the car, the door opened to the large apartment complex and an elderly woman answered. Ivy watched, with amusement that made her snort with laughter, as the greaseball took out his switchblade and made to carve into the old woman. Bane had already begun to drive off as the woman fell and the grease boy leapt upon her in a savage, wild manner. Ivy watched for as long as she could, staring out of the back window, pleasuring herself to what she was seeing, for this was her pornography.

"Yes…yes, stab her! Stab! Yes!" She reeled back into her seat hard as she climaxed from the sight, before the car turned the corner and they were speeding off down a street beside the harbor, the ocean sparkling in the start of the brilliant sunset. Sweat laced face and half closed eyes, Ivy cuddled up against the businessman, burying her face into his shoulder.

"Hold me," she whispered to the dead body. "I'm so happy, George…" George was the name she had taken to calling the corpse. She had not really asked the man his name before she had murdered him, so she had taken it upon herself to give him a name. She had his wallet, of course, as well as the mass of hundred dollar bills within, but she had refused to look at his ID. Spoilers were boring. She liked a little suspense. "Crank up zat jukebox, Bane," she roared loudly in her German accent imitation, and when Bane turned the radio on, a blast of rock music met their ears. "Yeah!" she whooped loudly like a college girl at a party, head banging to the metal that blasted out of the speakers. Alice Cooper had known she would be listening…

Your cruel device,

Your blood like ice.

One look could kill,

My pain, your thrill.

I wanna love you, but I better not touch (don't touch)

I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop

I wanna kiss you, but I want it too much (too much)

I wanna taste you, but your lips are venomous poison

You're poison runnin' through my veins

You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains.

Your mouth, so hot

Your web, I'm caught

Your skin, so wet

Black lace on sweat…

"I love this song!" she cried aloud, clapping her hands happily. "Yay! Come on, Bane, sing! Sing for me now, come on!"

Bane hesitated for a moment, as he always did. Then, the tough grunts began.

"Poison…poison! Lips… poison!"

"Lips, poison, yes," Ivy cried, squeezing the businessman's lips with her hand. "Poison lips...poison lips… poison, venomous, deadly, poison…poison…" The more she said the word, the more she fell in love with it. Poison, poison… She practically clawed at the back of the passenger seat to control the amount of hormones being released…

You're poison runnin' through my veins

You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains

Poison…

No, she never wanted to break those chains. These chains were hers to keep, these poisonous lips and these demonic intentions. She had chosen who she was. Cambier, the demon, had no doubt about its destiny. Pamela Isley had died, so that she, it, he, could live as her "reincarnation". She was but a corpse, and she knew it not, for Cambier knew not the illusion of himself. I am what I have chosen to be…

A very famous Doctor had once said, "The name you choose, it's like, it's like a promise you make". If that were the case, then this Doctor, Whoever he was, had not registered that the same thing could be applied to those who sought out the company of repulsion, the ideals of depravity.

I'm…poison… Those had been the last words she had spoken to Jason Woodrue before his tragic death. Thinking on those words now, she could see just how fitting they truly were. She had not merely told Jason what she had developed on the inside, had not simply enlightened upon him that which killed him in her arms. No. She had spoken her true name to him, had identified herself right there and then, as she was… who she was. She was not, in full truth, Poison Ivy. She was merely Poison. She was everything that Poison was, the word itself had become flesh, and the flesh had been released upon the planet to delivery an apocalypse, the demon Cambier's final stroke. The name "Ivy" was more of a subtitle, a profession, even, related to that which she loved most: plants. But Ivy would only ever be as subtitle. She was always going to be one mere thing: her true name, her true form, Poison.

Sixty minutes later, Bane had driven up to another house in the East Chivic District, not far from the Arboreal Museum. Ivy had only needed to dash into a home for a quick second, long enough to use someone's bathroom to change into her costume for the evening. They had cut it close, but she was swift in applying her makeup and wear. She needed little of it to leave an impression. She knew that she was perfection without the use of makeup.

"Thanks for letting me use your bathroom!" Ivy called out to the dead man who lay poisoned on his doorstep, as she dashed back into the car and shut the door quickly. "Alright, Bane," she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "To the museum, hurry!"

She was so excited about what was fixing to happen!