Poison Ivy eyes you curiously. You, a stranger, were in her greenhouse and touching her plants. She had strung you up by your ankle, hanging you from a vine upside-down.

"Why were you touching my babies?"

She spat, but she couldn't help but admire you. You were a pretty little thing. But why were you here of all places? Not unless they had a death wish, or were trying to arrest her.

"You're an odd thing..."

She mumbles and steps a little closer.