2013.06.10 - In the Garden of the Serpent

Madripoor has some pretty parts, if you set it away from the city and the docks and took your own slice and carved a path through it to keep it away from the seddier bits. This is exactly what the Baroness has done. The surrounding jungle barely touched to lead a winding road up the side of the steppe towards the manor precariously placed on a cliff side that bore the havoc of erosion via waves at its base. Covered from sneak attacks in more ways then one, and high enough to keep a regal watch over her Kingdom Come. Through the trees and camouflaged are her people, the militants that are there because they believe is the warped version of freedom the Baroness serves them on a silver platter. The anti-thesis. Though this did not limit to the followers of the mercenary freedom group, the ichor created tentacles of a cleansing destruction were reaching out and taking strangle holds in the most likely and unlikely of places, as well as people. One of which is Pamela Isley, riding up in a large black SUV bearing tinted windows, escorted from the private landing pad of a helicopter across the island, taking her through the dense jungle path to the electrified and reinforced gate guarded by two men. The driver also in the same fatigues easily getting flagged through with his comm relaying the arrival of an expected guest. Driving along the now thinning brush she will hear and see the training of troops that flank the better-paved drive, circling up to a large manor, thr grounds also flecked with guest houses as well as tents and barracks for the surmounting number of men and women. Within the structure, Baroness had been swimming until the announcement came, passing a glance towards Roy as she slides out of the pool and gathers up the black sheer robe, tossing it over her shoulders to show the intricate stitch-work of cobras weaving up her sides. Taking her glasses off a nearby table she places them on. "We have a new guest, I do hope the preceding reputation is correct."

Standing about, dressed at least for the weather in khaki shorts and a loud Hawaiian shirt, Roy Harper, aka William Bard, was essentially lounging while standing about ostentatiously body guarding Baroness.

After the first cat-calling (and subsequent admonishment), Roy stuck to business, although his eyes did wander here and there.

His eyebrows goes up. "Oh...? Who's arriving?" Roy asks, as he falls in line next to the Baroness, pushing his shades up to follow.

Every inch of her twitched and crawled as she suffered through the suited up thug escort from one of her distant labs to here. It had been private jets, suvs and expensive methods all the way. Not that Pam was against having the finer things in life.. but there were lines on how much damage she could suffer to be dealt to the delicate green that surrounded all those segways to here. At least this one was tucked away in a secluded lush jungle, there could be something done with that at least. Ivy stayed silently in that happy little green house of thought as she was puppeted, /guided/, along for her tour of the facility. Full Dr. Isley mask in play as the suvs would pull up to the villa and the gorilla guard flaked her exit from the vehicle. Dressed tastefully in a designer sun dress of green so dark it was nearly black, that it struck all color from her seemingly pure white skin, save the faintest blush of green. A bit of jet lag maybe? All else was classy and subtle silver rimmed glasses and black heels, to the nines business attire fit for the weather.. Just a nerdy red head with expensive tastes here for a job offer.

"A very good botanist I have heard about that exceeds my expectations." Baroness states casually as bare feet glide across the marble floor of the manor, cutting through the rooms as silent as a deadly viper, even with the weave in taking the most direct path towards the main door. All the while th at robe billows out behind her, despite the deft and precise work of lacing the waistline closed in its small corseted bind of criss crossed red lacework. Not as dressed for business, but this was a different kind of business and a more casual approach is in order on her end, instead of being the fully fatigued woman. Tact, she has a slight bit of it where business is concerned, though it is a never ending cycle on what those wheels in her head were turning for. Gripping both the door handles she holds them before pulling them open, looking at Bard with a wry grin etched on her facade. "Please, behave." Was that somewhat playful?? Bad sign or good? Be afraid. Tugging the doors open she steps out onto the small patio and moves down the few stairs to the walkway, the guards shifting position to line on either side of her and Bard as well as the guest. "A pleasure to finally get to meet you, Pamela."

"A good botanist, eh" Roy mutters, as he trails along in the Baroness's lacy wake. For whatever business, he couldn't be sure. Certainly, the Baroness didn't even appear to be the sort to be a gardener, unless one counted the red blood blossoms on the battlefield...

The Baroness's wry grin is met with a 'who me?' look, followed by a return grin as he snappily salutes her. "Fine, just for company," he remarks saucily, before taking a deep breath, settling into a serious mien.

Falling in place to the left of Baroness as she greets the guest, Roy nods at the botanist, doing a quick survey of her, assessing her. Something about her nagged at his consciousness, but he couldn't place it. Pamela... botanist...

For the close observation, Pamela was a pretty little picture but something about her lacked the human warm that should come with greeting such richly outfitted patrons. A snake's smile, if you would, is offered to the opening doors before the bright green of her eyes landed on the half dressed woman and a rose red brow arched sun-ward. "Good afternoon, I do hope my arrival hasn't interrupted your schedule?" Tipping those little half frame glasses back into place she offered a nod to the man she guessed was the guy Friday before tugging at a gloved hand and stepping neatly forward to offer it out more properly. "I assume you are the interested party that this goon squad, acquired me for Miss...." the last of her sentence floated off and she smiled more poisonously. "You should know... I was mid-research on some very /delicate/ items.. my lab assistant won't be happy to find them unattended." ..by which likely meant if her research assistant was not midway into being digested by her house plants.

"My schedule is always adaptable. I do hope -you- brought something to swim in, otherwise I can oblige." Baroness states as the gap between herself and Pamela, the outstretched hand taken in a firm handshake that bore attempts at delicacy behind the poised and rigid. "I am the interested party. My name is Anastasia, but most call me and know me as Baroness. Come in." She says turning on bare heel and passing William, a manicured brow rising in question, not needing to ask about that thoughtful look, it is plain as day. /Familiar, Bard?/ "I have some very... Particular business that your expertise is needed in. You see, I would like -my- jungle to grow, and anyone who seeks to interfere with that know precisely what it is to play in the thorn bush surrounding a serpent's lair. I have a black thumb, you, on the other hand - have just what I need." Said casually as she falls into the confines of a restored high-backed antique chair, slinging one leg over the other as she gestures for Pamela and Roy to have a seat while those of Goons R' Us span out and wait.

Generally, Arrows and Bats didn't associate too much, but there -was- something familiar about it. But this was one of the cases where generally he wasn't supposed to -speak- unless addressed, since he was nominally serving as Baroness's watchdog for this occasion, and he was under no illusions that Anastasia would take him quite so easily into her confidence. And so when she arches her carefully groomed brow at him, Roy returns a slight shrug, as if to say he wasn't -quite- sure why Pamela Isley looked familiar.

Still, as he's invited to take a seat, Roy can't help but comment, "Have a long trip, miss...?" Fishing for a last name, as well.

"A pleasure, Baroness." As going back to the van and her lab was clearly not an option from the marked lack of response on noting her assistant she greeted that handshake more politely then paused. "I'm so sorry... I'm afraid I wasn't left much time to pack." To be fair, she'd had to let one of the goons go half to fodder for a very upset pair of creepy ivys which seemed to be just the bargaining chip needed to change into her traveling attire and little else. Clothing aside for now, the click of heels moving from the paved drive across the tiled interior left a string of questions to formulate in her mind as she mirrored the darker woman and posed herself in a chair, stems crossing, One queen in black, one queen in red and of course green. "You brought me here to garden for you? Really? Surely you don't have trouble with the local soil." Fascinated but no fool, her gaze drifted toward the third party. "Dr. Isley."

Baroness' facade only emulated a mask trapped in one type of mask. Placidity, apathy, with the flip-turn of a small smile that curls at the corner of her lips, behind those lips though it is easy to tell the fangs were curved and retracted, venomous, emphasised by the calculating set of arctic cold gaze. When Bard inquired that look never faltered, only her eyes shifted from one to the other. What -is- going on in that head of hers? One that right now is framed by the black fall of wet noir strands. At least pamela also gets to the point, and William is not exempt from what exactly it is that Baroness does, just parts. Not the whole, that would take time and far more trials for proof of siolidarity on his part. Ones that would likely paint the roses red. "I will have a suitable suit brought for you.." As she speaks her eyes float to an entering butler who quickly turns on heel and heads back the way he came. "As for what gardening skills I require, thats up to the seeds you can sow for me.. I am on the way of dissent, though if my garden or surrounding environment needs aid, by all means..."

Isley. Dr. Isley... botanist.

Frowning a bit, Roy tries to recall all the intel involving botanists... and then realizes that this wasn't -science- that he would have recalled info about, but furtive supplies of drugs, toxic, poisons... why had he known this? Because he'd been on the wrong trail in checking up on Cheshire, and run into information.

Whistling, Roy inclines his head towards this Pamela Isley, then. "I think I've heard of your work," 'William' comments, doing a quick assessment of Dr. Isley once again. He hadn't expected -that- name to be connected to someone quite like... this.

Why was it that the deadliest serpents were so...

Right, focus, Harper, focus.

When in the garden of good and evil, do as the serpent does. A smile exchanged with the company as a little light seems to go off in the back of his head. "Well then that might make this easier. Let's not play at being coy. Madame Baroness, if you wish me to work for you I wll in a section of your compound.. closest to the jungle growth for my work and far enough away from your...help... that I don't end up with extra unique fertilizers. I won't have boots stomping my buds... and I'm sure you like to keep you head count, even?" A slender brow arched in question to her offer and as a serpent might shed her skin, so the leaf could change it's color. Just a slight shift, but in the motion of pulling of her glasses and folding them her appearance would uncoil into the evil beauty of ivy and red currents.