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Description
Gotham's Finest Pageant was asking for chaos.
Grimm kept her head down as she applied the last minute details to her makeup, refusing a glimpse of the face beneath the new mask she donned. A stroke of blush here. A streak of black there... It would be easy to forget in a place like this that she was still a vigilante with an identity that needed to be kept secret. Even here she knew she couldn't allow herself the concession of being Exodus Black to these people. Masks were a risk, she supposed for fashion challenges-- despite this it still wasn't worth the risk of blowing her daytime identity. Slowly her eyes tugged around the dressing room and settled on the vacant mirrors that lined against the side of one wall. Three people had been eliminated already.

Trixie, Nobody and Kimberly... people that could have helped her perhaps keep an eye out for any Joker activity, and now they were gone. That left her with the latter of Gotham's criminals that had decided to compete and only left one or two without evil intentions that she'd prioritized weren't harmful enough to be considered dangerous. Was it coincidence that the people she could have trusted the most had been dropped from the second round? Was one of the remaining contestants perhaps in on this as well? They would be the most likely of suspects, of course. Each villainess had something to gain from tonight. Making a name for themself, a spiteful jab to Batman's ego that they were running around free from his jurisdiction as long as they behaved. And of course, there was just free reign chaos for the hell of it.

"Grimm." The deep, masculine tone whispered.

Her eyes fell from the image of herself in the mirror but didn't turn her head, paranoid that someone might be watching her. "Grimm." She picked the voice apart, following it to the dressing rack near the far side of the room. With faux interest she pretended to leaf through the selection of garments that hung on the far side. She could feel Batman's presence hiding somewhere within' it, or near it. Though without her infrared visor he was invisible to her sight. "Come to grant me congratulations on winning the first round?" She questioned softly, aware perhaps--- it didn't matter. Despite the light hearted feeling to this, it was hardly a game. Batman's voice leveled.
"It's been a good thirty minutes since the last round. What's going on?" He questioned. She could feel his eyes on her. Whether or not out of adoration or professionalism it was hard to say. When Bruce was Batman she had a feeling that his sense of lawfulness and authority overcame all other feelings. With a small metal clang of hangers clicking together she shuffled through the garments, disinterested.
"Technical difficulties. Microphone problems as far as I'm aware. The power to the announcers mic cut off a little after the introductory round." She paused, sensing his sudden interest in what she assumed was just an assistant's error. "I checked in on it, but I didn't find anything. The announcer's been hovering over the technician like a hawk." She informed softly, putting his mind to rest. She lowered her voice even more when the other women in the dressing room got louder, allowing their voices to drown out her own. Oh the vanity of show business, she thought. She recalled how the announcer had been towering over a young technician that had been dealing with the tangle of wires near the soundbox as Grimm had stuffed herself into a small vent to overlook the situation below. The announcer's impatience was filled with that of the rhythmic clicking of him turning his mic on and off. Click-click click-click click-click...
Annoying.

The dressing rack was quiet for a while. She wondered if he was even still there. Her ears picked up the faint rustle of his cloak, like fleece ruffling. He must have been mulling over her words. When no response came she found herself speaking for him the thought that was already coming to both their minds. "Maybe the pageant is a decoy."
"Maybe... we can't be too sure." She felt the shadow reach out to her from beyond the rack, the single digits brushing against the inside of her arm to grab reassuringly at her before the grip just as quickly dissapeared. "Stay in the pageant as long as you can. I have to check some of my sources."

"You're leaving?" Her heart plummeted into her stomach. A heavy stone. This was work after all, she reminded herself. There could be no leisure even now in finding the Joker. All the same, she knew a part of her was dissapointed at herself for knowing this and still found the time to be vain in wanting him to watch her fight meaninglessly at a contest that shouldn't have mattered.
It didn't matter. She inwardly insisted again. Her presence looking to win the crown was a means to an end. No more. No less. He sensed her frustration before she could hide that behind a mask too, jabbing her calmly with observation. "I hope you remember why we're here in the first place." He reminded.

Her lips sunk into her mouth. Stung. A well deserved kick to her ego. He was right of course in saying so. This was hardly a piano recital or a elementary concert where she should expect Bruce to pull out a camcorder and sit through the entire charade just for her. Grimm Reaper and Batman were here because duty dictated they had to be. No personal agenda could be afforded. It was that simple. Her mouth opened to speak but her voice was murdered by the roll of introductory music, the annoucer's muffled voice signaled the start of the second round. She heard the stage coordinator behind her rounding the contestants up to go onstange. Her eyes narrowed, hands falling from the clothing rack.
"I'll keep an eye out." She settled for a graceful exit, unwilling to give him the satisfaction in knowing he was right in his guess she'd forgotten herself, if only momentarily.

She turned away and followed the last contestant toward the stage before the coordinator could tell her to do so otherwise. With one step out from the curtain the warm beams swallowed her figure. Her eyes caught with the announcer momentarily and fell if only for a second to the mic in his hands he'd been irately clicking on and off prior. Now he clasped it white-knuckled with both hands, afraid someone might steal his fame away by tearing it out of his grasp.

With mechanical footsteps she trotted onto the runway, feeling the shadows of spectators watch her. Her face felt hot as she paused at the end of the stage, allowing people to admire the little details of her costume. The thing she felt suddenly grateful for was the runway mannerisms of mute expressions. If anyone noticed her sunken lips and her knitted brows they thought nothing of it. It only contributed to the sassiness of her costume and the grimness of her character.
__________________________________

This took a bit longer than expected this time, mostly because however I guess I kept having a critical eye about the details on Grimm's costume. In the end I was aiming for more textures to add to her costume and settled on less skin flow that might take away from this. Thus this was born. For any of you that follow my OCs you're probably thinking the skeletal hand thing is familiar, which it is considering I use something similar for Akna's initial design.

I want to thank those that voted for me last round so that I made it into this one. Hopefully, I will make it into the round three if I'm lucky. [I have some pretty stiff competition with the other talented contestants ]

As I'd put in the story. Grimm's not about to take off her mask anytime soon. Although this is a beauty pageant I want to keep to the realism as well that it's very unlikely she'd divulge her identity just for the sake of winning the title of Gotham's Finest.

Whelp, that's about all I have to say. I hope you enjoy this.
Decided to add some bells and whistles here and there, not sure if any of you will see a noticeable difference or not, but it's there.

Grimm Reaper (c) Me
Contest (c)

Description
Gotham's Finest Pageant was asking for chaos.
Grimm kept her head down as she applied the last minute details to her makeup, refusing a glimpse of the face beneath the new mask she donned. A stroke of blush here. A streak of black there... It would be easy to forget in a place like this that she was still a vigilante with an identity that needed to be kept secret. Even here she knew she couldn't allow herself the concession of being Exodus Black to these people. Masks were a risk, she supposed for fashion challenges-- despite this it still wasn't worth the risk of blowing her daytime identity. Slowly her eyes tugged around the dressing room and settled on the vacant mirrors that lined against the side of one wall. Three people had been eliminated already.

Trixie, Nobody and Kimberly... people that could have helped her perhaps keep an eye out for any Joker activity, and now they were gone. That left her with the latter of Gotham's criminals that had decided to compete and only left one or two without evil intentions that she'd prioritized weren't harmful enough to be considered dangerous. Was it coincidence that the people she could have trusted the most had been dropped from the second round? Was one of the remaining contestants perhaps in on this as well? They would be the most likely of suspects, of course. Each villainess had something to gain from tonight. Making a name for themself, a spiteful jab to Batman's ego that they were running around free from his jurisdiction as long as they behaved. And of course, there was just free reign chaos for the hell of it.

"Grimm." The deep, masculine tone whispered.

Her eyes fell from the image of herself in the mirror but didn't turn her head, paranoid that someone might be watching her. "Grimm." She picked the voice apart, following it to the dressing rack near the far side of the room. With faux interest she pretended to leaf through the selection of garments that hung on the far side. She could feel Batman's presence hiding somewhere within' it, or near it. Though without her infrared visor he was invisible to her sight. "Come to grant me congratulations on winning the first round?" She questioned softly, aware perhaps--- it didn't matter. Despite the light hearted feeling to this, it was hardly a game. Batman's voice leveled.
"It's been a good thirty minutes since the last round. What's going on?" He questioned. She could feel his eyes on her. Whether or not out of adoration or professionalism it was hard to say. When Bruce was Batman she had a feeling that his sense of lawfulness and authority overcame all other feelings. With a small metal clang of hangers clicking together she shuffled through the garments, disinterested.
"Technical difficulties. Microphone problems as far as I'm aware. The power to the announcers mic cut off a little after the introductory round." She paused, sensing his sudden interest in what she assumed was just an assistant's error. "I checked in on it, but I didn't find anything. The announcer's been hovering over the technician like a hawk." She informed softly, putting his mind to rest. She lowered her voice even more when the other women in the dressing room got louder, allowing their voices to drown out her own. Oh the vanity of show business, she thought. She recalled how the announcer had been towering over a young technician that had been dealing with the tangle of wires near the soundbox as Grimm had stuffed herself into a small vent to overlook the situation below. The announcer's impatience was filled with that of the rhythmic clicking of him turning his mic on and off. Click-click click-click click-click...
Annoying.

The dressing rack was quiet for a while. She wondered if he was even still there. Her ears picked up the faint rustle of his cloak, like fleece ruffling. He must have been mulling over her words. When no response came she found herself speaking for him the thought that was already coming to both their minds. "Maybe the pageant is a decoy."
"Maybe... we can't be too sure." She felt the shadow reach out to her from beyond the rack, the single digits brushing against the inside of her arm to grab reassuringly at her before the grip just as quickly dissapeared. "Stay in the pageant as long as you can. I have to check some of my sources."

"You're leaving?" Her heart plummeted into her stomach. A heavy stone. This was work after all, she reminded herself. There could be no leisure even now in finding the Joker. All the same, she knew a part of her was dissapointed at herself for knowing this and still found the time to be vain in wanting him to watch her fight meaninglessly at a contest that shouldn't have mattered.
It didn't matter. She inwardly insisted again. Her presence looking to win the crown was a means to an end. No more. No less. He sensed her frustration before she could hide that behind a mask too, jabbing her calmly with observation. "I hope you remember why we're here in the first place." He reminded.

Her lips sunk into her mouth. Stung. A well deserved kick to her ego. He was right of course in saying so. This was hardly a piano recital or a elementary concert where she should expect Bruce to pull out a camcorder and sit through the entire charade just for her. Grimm Reaper and Batman were here because duty dictated they had to be. No personal agenda could be afforded. It was that simple. Her mouth opened to speak but her voice was murdered by the roll of introductory music, the annoucer's muffled voice signaled the start of the second round. She heard the stage coordinator behind her rounding the contestants up to go onstange. Her eyes narrowed, hands falling from the clothing rack.
"I'll keep an eye out." She settled for a graceful exit, unwilling to give him the satisfaction in knowing he was right in his guess she'd forgotten herself, if only momentarily.

She turned away and followed the last contestant toward the stage before the coordinator could tell her to do so otherwise. With one step out from the curtain the warm beams swallowed her figure. Her eyes caught with the announcer momentarily and fell if only for a second to the mic in his hands he'd been irately clicking on and off prior. Now he clasped it white-knuckled with both hands, afraid someone might steal his fame away by tearing it out of his grasp.

With mechanical footsteps she trotted onto the runway, feeling the shadows of spectators watch her. Her face felt hot as she paused at the end of the stage, allowing people to admire the little details of her costume. The thing she felt suddenly grateful for was the runway mannerisms of mute expressions. If anyone noticed her sunken lips and her knitted brows they thought nothing of it. It only contributed to the sassiness of her costume and the grimness of her character.
__________________________________

This took a bit longer than expected this time, mostly because however I guess I kept having a critical eye about the details on Grimm's costume. In the end I was aiming for more textures to add to her costume and settled on less skin flow that might take away from this. Thus this was born. For any of you that follow my OCs you're probably thinking the skeletal hand thing is familiar, which it is considering I use something similar for Akna's initial design.

I want to thank those that voted for me last round so that I made it into this one. Hopefully, I will make it into the round three if I'm lucky. [I have some pretty stiff competition with the other talented contestants ]

As I'd put in the story. Grimm's not about to take off her mask anytime soon. Although this is a beauty pageant I want to keep to the realism as well that it's very unlikely she'd divulge her identity just for the sake of winning the title of Gotham's Finest.

Whelp, that's about all I have to say. I hope you enjoy this.
Decided to add some bells and whistles here and there, not sure if any of you will see a noticeable difference or not, but it's there.

Grimm Reaper (c) Me
Contest (c)