Poison Ivy Arkham Knight Costume Novels & Stories

Cosplay Theme: The Dark Swordsman. "You look cool," Harper laughed. She was dressed as a Cyber-Valkyrie (silver armor, neon wings). It hid her real weapons perfectly. "Blend in, Sebastian. Everyone here is wearing a costume. If we dress like normal civilians, the facial recognition will flag us instantly. The algorithms ignore 'fictional characters'." Jack walked behind them. He refused to wear a costume. Instead, he was carrying a massive, life-sized plushie of a Pikachu-like creature. "It shields my heat signature," Jack grumbled, hugging the yellow monstrosity. "Don't ask."

Ivy had refused her protest to bathe herself as she wasn't comfortable with someone bathing her, but Ivy told her if she doesn't, she'd be executed for failing her master. “ What kind of ridiculous law is that?” Zaria had fumed. After taking her bath, Ivy helped her out of the water and dried her body. Then she disappeared briefly into the adjoining chamber and soon returned with a gown draped carefully over her arms. Zaria's breath caught. The gown shimmered softly beneath the candlelight, the fabric was a delicate blend of silk and something lighter. The color shifted between pale gold and soft champagne as Ivy moved, tiny crystals sewn along the bodice catching the light, like scattered s

Ivy reached out and grabbed one of the coats from the wardrobe. As she stood before the full-length mirror, Ivy's anger and curiosity stared back at her. Ivy slipped into the coat, a deep crimson hue that contrasted with her dark, tousled hair. The fabric felt unfamiliar against her skin, a symbol of liberation from the suffocating confines of her new life. The walls of her room felt like they were closing in on her, suffocating her spirit. Ivy longed to escape, to venture beyond the boundaries of her monotonous existence.

Plant what it means to you. The Shadow Knight knelt beside the waiting earth. The toy was just wood, paint, and craftsmanship. What mattered was what it symbolized: his connection to Marcus, to family, to the life that had been stolen. His reason for embracing darkness. With careful precision, he dug a small hole in the prepared soil. The earth felt wrong against his transformed flesh, simultaneously too real and not real enough. He placed the toy horse in the depression, then covered it with dirt that seemed to move eagerly around the offering.

Instead, I wore a robe of brilliant silver-white, the attire of a princess of the White Wolf royalty. I slowly walked up the stone platform, not even sparing Alexander a glance as I stopped. His expression was tight. "What are you doing, Ivy?" I looked up, my voice ringing clear across the entire square as I said, "I refuse to recognize Lucas Gowling as the successor of the Graystone pack."

I crack the heavy oak panel open just enough to grab the leather bag from her paws. A massive cloud of hot white steam escapes from the stone pool room as my boots slowly slide across the floor. The new tunic Iris brought is a bright, shimmering mix of silver-lake cloth and purple valley leather that is supposed to make me look like an ancient forest prince for the outdoor crystal scrolls. Not many wildland fighters can wear those soft court colors without looking completely silly, but my smooth skin and lean shoulders make the bright fabric look totally natural. I look like a mystical alpha warrior stepping right out of a spirit legend with the hot mist floating all around my chest.

I added a new line: "Attempted poisoning—success." Of course, I hadn’t really been poisoned. That would be too dangerous, even for me. What I drank was a mixture of herbs the healer didn’t know about—ingredients I stole from the apothecary long ago. Enough to mimic the symptoms. Enough to fool anyone. And it worked. Now Ivy looked even worse in the eyes of the pack. Even Kiernan couldn’t protect her forever. Eventually, he’d see her for what she really was. Broken. Weak. Dangerous.

He had to sacrifice that much to be with the mighty king of the Raven. Ives stood up and went for a bath. After a bath, he started to get dressed. He wore a navy blue brocade baroque frock coat with golden crystal rhinestone which was gifted to him by his highness. He slicked back his shoulder-lengthed brunette hair with a small man bun leaving some of his hair to fall on his shoulders and put on shiny black shoes. He wore blue topaz earrings and deep blue topaz rings on his fingers.

He smirked, before whispering in my ears, "Because if I'm a kid, then I can't do things I like, and one of those things is you." Slapping his chest, I glared at him, "We're in public, Perv. Shut up." "You're blushing!" He cooed, "You're so beautiful!" ".... whatever." "Hey!" I turn around and saw Ivan wearing a Harry Potter costume and Archel in a Witch costume, "Well isn't that a lovely matching suit." Ivan snorted, which made him and Langston laugh. "I suggest for you to shut your yaps, Four-eyes."

The whole place had a pulse of excitement and anticipation. The tailors gave me the clothes for tonight. It is a three-piece suit made from wool that matches our eye color, blue, and silver. They embroidered the sleeves with symbols of our pack, the triskele. “Alarick!” I shouted as a lot of werewolves also occupied the tavern. “Ylva’s looking for you.” Alarick nodded and went in my direction. He looks like a busy merchant trying to greet all his emptor. “Let her be. She knows her way around.”