Who else thought that Moulin Rouge was a great inspiration for Rogue and Gambit? :-) 3

Disclaimer: I don't own the series, the character or anything Marvel owns. And I don't own the Moulin Rogue idea. I just own the idea for this fic.

Now, this is not a direct parody or satire of the movie. The movie is an INFLUENCE, or inspiration, for this story. Mutants still exist. It's mostly an alternate universe. Rogue is obviously the counterpart for Satine, and Gambit, the counterpart for Christian. The other characters will be brought in as they apply to the story. Even though most of you will probably guess how this story will play out, but I pretty much have it planned and there will be twists. ;)

Hope you all enjoy! And are ready to break out the tissues. (j/k)

Side note: the only reason I'm posting this in Evolution is because of the Acolytes situation with Magneto. If that didn't apply to the story, it'd probably be in X-Men comic section.

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The streets grew quiet in the Lower East Side. Only the few hidden shadows of the night dared to show themselves to the unknown as they passed through alleys and the hard streets. The nighttime demons that preyed on innocents in hopes of banishing their own demons. They relish in the problems of others instead of themselves, forgetting the harshness of reality. They would laugh and cackle as they drank and stayed wake until the early hours. It would echo throughout the city and faded in and out for passers who wanted to escape it all.

The city seemed completely different from what it was a year ago; signage and lights seemed dull, women lined the red light district instead of in the clubs and houses. The taverns and bars became more popular. One known as the The Back Room stayed quiet most nights. Tussled burnt red hair of the man who sat at the bar stools, trying to enjoy the harsh bourbon he once adored, only remembering what had been lost in a tragedy long since told. His muse in life was lost to him, feeling no reason to continue with it.

"Need another round, Allerdyce?" called the tender, earning no response. He shook his head at the sight of such a miserable man. He had seen Allerdyce come in same night, every week for the last year. Came same time, ordered the same thing, left the same time. He never looked any different.

Red hair moved as he lifted his head and spoke to himself, "If only it could wash away the enchantment of the Nature Boy."

No longer could he stay, he left a bill or two on the counter of the bar and left the bar making the short journey to the tenement building. He walked to the back entrance to the stairs up and into the apartments above. It was dusty and dirty, hardly used. It had once been a place of long hours for parties and cabarets. Now, it was barely a roof to house shattered lives. Pale, flowery wallpaper was tearing along the corridors, smoke and alcohol thick in the air and buried into the walls as they grew dark and dingy. A bottle of cognac was broken by the top, the glass and liquid still there from weeks ago; from the anger and hatred still reverberating from what was behind the first door. He knocked softly on it, listening for any response or movement. He could only hear the slight shifting of paper and a creak from the old bed frame. The redhead could only take caution and moved into the room.

"Remy?" was all he said before taking in what he saw. The atmosphere of smoke and alcohol filled the air, as it had for months now. A man seated on his metal single sized bed in the far corner of the room rested his elbows on his knees, a cigarette lighted and nearly burnt to nub. He lifted his head as the redheaded man entered and ran his hand through his long auburn hair and down his unshaven chin. He had not bathed again, his wife-beater and jeans stained. Dust and musk accumulated on the walls that mirrored the hallway by the stairs. The window was open to night sky that shone in like water, as if cleansing his mind. He looked out to the landscape of Lower Manhattan, the city he renamed his home. He saw the glow from Remy's eyes as he looked out to the city, the red glare that was long since forgotten. He was thinking about her again.

A sigh escaped Remy's lips. He turned back to the redheaded man and spoke to him, something he had done rarely, "John…"

He stalled for a second, getting up from the bed and moving over to the dresser with a few photos on it, and stared long and hard at one of them before continuing, "You heard from Piotr?"

John Allerdyce could only shake is his head; he remembered it clearly. Piotr had left soon after that night, seeing how torn up Remy had become and letting his life go to the gutter. Everything around them seemed to have shut down, even John. Piotr, like Remy, had taken to one of the girls and had left with her to avoid the same tragedy. They both wanted to forget their past lives in hopes of starting out with ones. They had gone back to Russia. To John's regret, he had heard from Piotr, only the news was not good.

"You won't like the news," John replied.

Remy turned his head over his shoulder and replied, "What did he say?" was all he could say, his voice stern and emotionless.

John looked on, for he knew nothing would help his friend, "His sister has passed on… just like his parents. Joseph kept good on the contract."

Remy hardly faltered at the answer, "How 'bout de girl?"

John was hoping this would brighten Remy's mood… if for a little while, "Kitty's still with him. Apparently Joseph has left Russia and come back to the USA."

Remy turned back to John, his eyes burning even more than before, "Dis is our opportunity, John."

"You mean… you're gonna?"

"Now dat he's back in de US, I'll get de Guild keepin' track o' where he is. Next time he's even near New York, I'll personally be responsible for his death."

John was scared of Remy every now and then because he was never quite about to understand what was going on in his mind. But as for now, John was in 100 agreement with his comrade.

He nodded silently to Remy and understood. But for now, John lifted his hand to Remy's shoulder and just said, "I'll see you in the mornin', Remy."

Remy nodded as well and took a final puff out of his cigarette as John shut the door and walked down the hall to his room for a well-needed night sleep, preparing for a long hang over as well.

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Remy LeBeau was raised into an aristocratic family of hierarchy and business. They were the famous LeBeau's of the Thieves Guild of New Orleans, the equivalent to the Mafia. Born into royalty as some would say, if only he were actually born to it. Henri, his elder brother, always did resent him for being the favored son though not of the same blood. Remy had been orphaned young in his life. His parents abandoned him at the hospital soon after his birth. The reasoning behind it was not because they were young, or they didn't want children; it was the "flaw" with Remy that caused his abandonment.

Remy was different from other people, not only in his heritage, but also in his genetics. 'Mutants', as they were called, were a growing group of people who had a genetic quirk, supposedly being the next step in human evolution, exhibiting superhuman abilities or qualities. Remy was born with eyes that had been called "the devil's eyes" most of his life. Until then, he only believed it was just a birth defect. But it was when he turned twelve that he became aware of his real quirk. Remy had an uncanny ability to charge inanimate objects with energy. So much energy, in fact, so much as he could cause explosions, small to large.

As a result, Remy was never accepted into a family and ran throughout the streets of New Orleans as a street thief, already preparing him for his new life. It was fate that brought him to the Thieves Guild. He had happened upon Jean-Luc, the leader of the guild, as he was pick-pocketing a crowd during the afternoon rush at the Old Absinthe House. The older and wiser thief spotted the boy's talent before he spotted his eyes and offered him a position rather than a jail cell. Remy was almost immediately accepted by the members and the family. He was trained and taught how to be a thief, more so for professional hits than simple street pickpockets. He became so good that he was now first heir to the title as leader of the guild.

It was this way until Remy started reaching his 20's as he began to develop a nightlife, Remy had met two men, around his age, who he found out were mutants as well. Remy had never physically met another mutant before, and it was quite an experience.

John Allerdyce was a man of the Australian outback who had come to America in hopes of furthering his journalism career. He was quite a writer, boasting about how the women loved his Gothic romances. He was an average man, red hair that matched his fiery attitude on life. His mutant ability, over the years, had earned him the nickname Pyro because of his ability to manipulate fire.

Piotr Rasputin, not unlike John, was also a foreigner. He came from the cold expanses of Russia. He was an over average man, standing well over six and a half feet tall, and was probably the man woman dream about; tall, dark and handsome, not to mention a sensitive painter. Piotr had come to America to experience a new lifestyle. His ability was being able to turn his skin into an 'organic-steel' state that was nearly impenetrable and John had decided, at the man's awesome size, he should be called Colossus.

The two men had met threw contacts of another mutant known as Magneto. He was described as a leader in the survival of mutants with a group known as The Acolytes. Along with another mutant, Sabertooth, whom they had not seen for a few days, they came under a contract, individually written for each of them, with Magneto to be under his leadership. Anti-mutant activists, however, had recently indisposed Magneto, so they decided to take a break for a bit until his return. They had plans to move around the USA for a bit until they found a place to stay. They offered Remy to come along with them, saying they would stay in New Orleans for a few more days.

Remy's appeal to the change prompted his own exploration. He had considered the prospect of traveling the country for a bit, and decided it might have been an ideal consideration. He soon after prompted the idea with Jean-Luc, saying he could keep tabs on the guild branches as he moved around. The family agreed to it and Remy joined John and Piotr.

That was three years ago that he left New Orleans, moving between Washington and Maine, from Nevada to Georgia. Remy was almost unable to keep track of where he had been in such a short amount of time. However, what he could keep track of was that every state had a nightclub that John and Piotr went to regularly, at every stop they made. Remy had gone once or twice, never getting really intimate with any of the women, but he had failed to see the impression they meant to leave on him. He found more of his thrill in browsing the streets and pick pocketing again. It was more of a thrill than any woman would ever be. By the time a year had gone by, the three men had reached the state of New York.

John found a job as a writer for a local paper in Manhattan, and Piotr agreed that New York was the best place for him to continue his own career. Remy was just there to enjoy being outside the guild, so they agreed to stay there.

And according to their fashion, John and Piotr celebrated the move with a night out at yet another club.

That was where the whole story began.

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Yay! Chapter one is up!

Now, I have to worry about this fic and my other Romy fic. And with school finishing soon, I can do both!

So expect a new chapter within the next 2-3 weeks.

So read, review, comment, suggest, but no flames please. And…

Until Next Time…