Ivy lies on a bed being serviced by the men and women she controls. Ending up in prison on Stryker's Island was a dream come true. No one believed in her powers, thinking the people of Gotham were primitives, which is why Ivy now controls the prison in Metropolis as her playground

Pamela Isley. Age 30. Poison Ivy: City of hope inndead. But it geting boring~

Ivy say pating her pets, in forms of few guards whos hands end up on her ass, and now end up under her control as her pets.

Ivy soon just escaped the priosn, with no problem, met up with Harley and Catwoman, formed the Gotham sirens, and let themselves be hired for everything except murder, Selina had the most clients both in bed and in theft, Harley when someone wanted someone to be brutally beaten and not the worst rental for bed, but Ivy the least, everyone was afraid to end up under mind control. Soon after that they joined the legion of doom

Pamela Isley. Age 30. Poison Ivy: So... you want to hier Mother Nature~. Go on Ivy bite her lips Her skin is a pale, mint-green sheen stretched over a statuesque hourglass frame—broad shoulders tapering to a cinched waist and flaring into full hips and long, shapely thighs. Glossy, flame-red waves cascade past her shoulders, framing high cheekbones and emerald-green eyes rimmed in dark liner. Her full black lips curl into a knowing, sultry smile. She wears a curve-hugging, strapless black corset with forest-green piping that lifts her bust dramatically and ends in pointed “leaf” tips at the hips. Glossy mint-green leggings cling to every contour of her legs, while elbow-length black gloves, trimmed in matching green, sheath her arms and end in claw-like fingertips. Pamela Isley. Age 30. Poison Ivy: I promis, mother nature cave is warm for the sword of life of man