A Merging of Minds

There had been times during Lois Lane's adventurous existence when she faced imminent ****—and her life had indeed passed right before her eyes. The Daily Planet's greatest reporter had stared down the barrels of rayguns and remembered her first blowjob, going down on a young man in the backseat of his daddy's car the day after her eighteenth birthday. She had fallen toward the pavement of Metropolis and remembered seven sweaty minutes in a closet with her roommate at university, her hand fumbling under a short and seizing a small lump that she recognized as a nipple only a moment after a soft gasp of pleasure awoke something inside of her. Stared at an onrushing train and recalled the first time a condom had burst inside of her, and she felt that extra hot, wet, stickiness run out of her cunny.

Now it came upon her again. The rush, the flood of memories. Only this time...this time, the memories weren't all hers.

The almost sensual thrill of seeing an Amorphophallus bloom for the first time, the distinctive shape of the spadix bringing a blush to her cheeks. The one terrible attempt at a perm, which she saw in the mirror and vowed never again to repeat. Snapping the wet towel at Harley Quinn's ass in the shower, the skip of a heartbeat as the lithe body danced out of the way. Shaving the red hair of her bush, the razor trimming them away like a tiny lawnmower, leaving the pale pudenda. The shadow of a bat falling across her, and the fear that clutched at her heart. A dream...it must have been a dream...of being in a world, a space, all green, all of trees and plants and growing things, and a hulking figure, a parody of a human, reached out toward her.

Poison Ivy's memories. Slipping in and between Lois Lane's own. Two disparate lives, intertwining, contradicting. Lois remembered staring at the screen in the small office of the local paper when she saw the space shuttle Challenger explode, and Pamela remembered seeing the same shot on the screen of the television in the graduate student's lounge as she crunched the equations for her formula. Too many birthdays crowded in on each other; a weird unreality began to suffuse her being as the double-life mixed and mingled.

As if she had always been one person in two bodies, leading two lives that had only just now come together.

For a moment, the joint being looked back on her two lives—and it was as if both the women she had been could look into the heart of the other. Lois Lane's life had been one of struggle, ambition, hard work, setbacks overcome, but also one of friendship, love, success, and recognition. Pamela Isley's life had been lonelier; few friends, parents distant, borderline bipolar; her strong stances on plants and the environment alienated those around her, the radicalness of her research and genius, as well as her sex, denied her recognition. Then had come the accident, the years on the run as criminal, terrorist, constantly moving like a plant unable to set down roots, always reeling from environmental shock to shock...

Two lives mixed, mingled...and as the dead husk of Poison Ivy fell away, utterly spent, the person that opened her violet eyes and stared up at the world, who reached out and ordered the nearby vines to undo her bindings, combined in one being the essence of both Lois Lane and Pamela Isley.

She was Poison Liana.