[color=f6989d]"So it is..."[/color]

A kneeling silhouette began to move, slowly and with precise purpose in every movement. Lassie B. Swings had pondered the vision - and she was certain that it was a vision, a calling, perhaps even a prophecy, and no mere dream or hallucination - but the time for thoughts was in the past. Now, action beckoned her to move.

Springing up from her cross-legged, grounded seating position, petals in the colours of the rainbow trailed through the air, twirling around her. Clever eyes shot across the sad cell, accentuated by the sparse exposure of her face, which was well-hidden behind lavish greenery shaped to encase her head, leaving only a hole at the back, from which a diamond-like mane cascaded down her shoulders.

[color=f6989d]"The pursuit is not the noblest of tasks, I confess! [i]However[/i], I, Belladonna, will offer my services, for they are needed in dishing out... JUSTICE!"[/color]

With grandeur, the woman gestured frantically, straining at the jingling chain that connected her ankle to the wall. Behind the loose prisoner jump suit, peeks of a well-tanned, steeled physique revealed themselves. The indecent exposure carried no such inappropriate notions, though - such notions were entirely drowned out by the confident swagger with which the luchadora presented herself. 

[color=f6989d]"Now, my draconian friend, it is time to unshackle me!"[/color] Her demand was followed by a blizzard of flowery pink reaching out of her cell, and towards the bard, where they descended with sad grace. [color=f6989d]"I will mute the escapees alarm, like they have muted your poetic performances, the barbarians, if only you lend me your hand... Well, and uhm... the keys."[/color]