The Avengers and the Reaper

Chapter 2: Important Plans Before Food

I trudge into my small apartment, slamming and locking the door behind me. Never too safe in Gotham.
I barely make it to the couch before my legs give out dramatically, my small body collapsing onto the worn cushion.
Grim doesn't even look up. "What happened, Reap?"

"Gotham happened. I was mugged. By like 5 dudes."

"Again? Where are they now?"

I chuckle darkly. "Hopefully burning."

Grim clicks his tongue in disapproval from behind his book. "Was it necessary to kill all of them?"

"They touched-"

He looks up, alarmed now.

"-my food."

He laughs before composing himself. "You are such a foodie."

I roll my eyes. "And you are such a lazy. I come in, collapse, and you barely blink."

"I knew you were okay, Reap. I'm really more worried for the other guys. You almost killed Stark, and he's basically a hero."

I growled, "Do not talk about Stark."
Grim's eyes widened before he gulps. "Yes ma'am."

"But what we can talk about is us doing something so we can move. I've analyzed the death rates, crime patterns, and gang/mob activities and I've come to a conclusion."

Grim raises his eyebrows, waiting for the information we've been needing for months.

"But first I need to finish my food." I smirk, the smirk that has made grown men quake in fear.

Grim is having none of it and lunges at me. Wait, not at me.

He goes at my burger and fries that I so ferociously fought for.

Mama don't play that game.

My scythe, Ester is in my hand in a flash and pressing against Grim's throat in another.

"One more move towards my precious and I'll curse you with rhyming for a year."

He freezes.

"I was kidding. All of the evidence points to a majority killings being encouraged or ordered by suprisingly, only one person."

"Let me guess: this person has terrible jokes and a horrendous makeup job and smells like cat piss and insanity. Starts with a J."

I take a huge bite out of my bacon cheeseburger and grin. "Bingo! Didn't think you had it in you!"
I put my food down and grab my cloak, pulling it over my royal blue blouse, black skinny jeans, and knee-length combat boots. My cloak is black as pitch and when that hood goes on, my face is invisible. But for now, my waist-length, slightly curled black hair is loose and my heart-shaped, caramel brown face is clearly seen in the dim lighting.
Grim reaches for his scythe. His cloak is already on since he just got in as well. He's tall and muscular, with olive skin and the curliest honey brown hair I've ever seen.
Grim cuts a more intimidating figure than I do, but what I lack I size, I make up for in ferocity. Honestly, I'm the more dangerous out of us.

I take Ester (my scythe and BFF) out and pull my hood up as Grim does the same.

The only thing visible under the hoods are our identical, vivid, scarlet eyes.

I almost hear his eyebrow quirk up. "You're leaving the food you nearly cursed me over?"

I grin widely and throw open the door. "I've got something more important. I've got a clown to meet."