[center][color=purple][h3]Niflheim Sokolov[/h3]
[b]The Violet Reaper[/b]
[i]Location: City Prison
Interactions: [@SpookySquid] [/i][/color][/center]

The prison was always surprisingly immaculate, for what Niflheim could remember. This was only the smaller one she was headed to, meant for civilian arguments that didn't involve crazy alien crab creatures that fell from the sky. Still, supposedly one of the heroes had gotten himself in here. Of all people, why did they have to send her? Something about taking a break... How nauseating.

She entered the prison, her face blank as always as the policemen approached her. Her signature appearance honestly didn't take very long to recognize, she was a high level class A after all, for whatever that meant.

The click of the Reaper's spiked anklets was heard down the row of cells, she uncaring as she brushed past all of them with two police officers silently in tow.

[b]"Clarence, Ms. Violet Reaper is here to bail you out. You're free to go."[/b]

The violet haired woman stood back, arms crossed as she eyed the mess of a hero exiting the prison cell as the gate was unlocked and squeaked open by the officer. [color=purple]"Thank you, sir. I apologize for the trouble."[/color] Niflheim muttered to the cop as he turned to leave after locking the cell behind Mrs. Pickles, not seeming afraid to leave the drunkard in such capable hands.

To Mrs. Pickles, Violet Reaper's eyes narrowed judgementally. [color=purple]"...So, you're the drunken basketcase HQ sent me to retrieve? Surprising..."[/color] Seeming disinterested already, Niflheim seemed to almost float with elegance of turning her back to him and heading for the exit, obviously expecting the other to follow her.

[sub]([@Animal] talked me into it.)[/sub]