Rogue sat alone in a small square room, staring into the mirror ahead of her at her reflection. She had no doubt that it was one of those one-way glasses from cop shows, and that some guy in a suit was even now watching her staring in his general direction, trying to gauge how to break her.

Just then, as if on cue, the door to her left opened and a tall man with a stoic appearance entered, a beige file in his hand contrasting sharply with the deep black of his jacket.

The auburn-haired girl remained silent as she watched him sit and face her with a grim expression: whoever these people were, they were wrong if they thought she would be intimidated.

"I have the right to a lawyer," she told him matter-of-factly. Truthfully, she could care less about the lawyer; she just wanted to get ahold of the Professor whom she'd been trying to mentally project an SOS to ever since she'd gotten here.

"Terrorists are not entitled lawyers or any other Miranda rights," the man replied curtly, opening the folder in his hand and glancing at the contents.

"I'm not a terrorist!" Rogue spat, momentarily losing her cool as she stared incredulously at the man.

"No?" the man asked, eyebrow raised. "Were you or were you not part of a collective unit that approximately six months ago were almost responsible for an attack on multiple nations' soils that could have cost hundreds of lives and caused irreparable damage to national relations between said nations and the US?"

"What?" Rogue said in disbelief. "We prevented that Mutant from destroying everything—we saved lives."

The man raised an eyebrow. "We?" he repeated.

Rogue clamped her mouth down and cursed internally. She'd already blown one of her promises to Remy; she wasn't going to screw up the second.

The two sat in silence for another moment, until the man finally pursed his lips in disappointment. "I see," he said, shutting the file and standing.

"Wait, where are you going?" Rogue demanded as he strode out of the room. The door shut and she groaned loudly. What was going on here?
It was only a month ago that she had even found out that there was anything to be worried about. One lousy month since she had landed in JFK airport after a well-deserved vacation backpacking through Europe after graduation and preventing the Apocalypse, and with Mutant relations such a hot-topic item everywhere, she thought she'd better get in as much time having normal adventures as she could.

It was at JFK that she had run into Remy, looking even more ragged than usual, whispering in hushed tones about mysterious government types kidnapping mutants for unknown reasons. He had told her that he was on the run, and if she was smart she would join him, or at least go home. Rogue had been skeptical; she'd spoken to Kurt on the phone just the day before, and while not always the most reliable, he surely would have mentioned if there was a specific danger in a mutant traveling. Not to mention the Professor could send her a mental message at any time if there was danger. Plus, there hadn't been anything different than usual on the news—surely Remy was just being paranoid?

Regardless, the Cajun had made her promise that if "de pigs come by, chér, you run de other way, yeah? And if dey get you, you don't tell dem nothin'."

She'd assured him she'd be careful, but hadn't thought much on the conversation until arriving at the train station in Boston two days ago and being flanked by two men in suits, pulling badges and introducing themselves as Special Agent Thompson and Flynn, informing her that she was wanted for questioning and asking her to please come with them.

Not knowing what else to do she'd followed instructions, but after what had to be at least a day sitting mostly alone in this interrogation room, then being transported to a different interrogation room in god knows where with people coming in and throwing around words like "terrorist", she was terrified about what Remy had said and what was going to happen to her, and had stubbornly clung to her second promise like it was her only saving grace.

Rogue sat alone for what seemed like an eternity, adjusting her gloves to keep herself properly covered. She didn't want to use her powers yet, since she was stuck in a tiny room with no idea where the way out was and how many people stood between her and it. She knew they knew her as a mutant, but how much else did they know?

The door finally opened again, and yet another agent walked in—this one carrying handcuffs.

"Hands on the table where I can see them," he told her, approaching slowly with the metal outstretched.

Rogue knew she needed her hands if she was going to get out of here, and she decided that her chances of escape didn't look any better than what they were currently. She reached out and with one fluid motion slipped off a glove and cupped the man's face, feeling a flash of dizziness as he cried out and crumbled to the ground.

She quickly stepped over Agent Cameron Mane (who was currently divorcing his wife of five years and living in a one-bedroom studio two blocks away with way too much take-out Chinese in his refrigerator) and slipped out the door into an open hallway. She knew Mane was planning on taking her to the car out the back, so she quickly decided to go the other direction and attempt to find a side exit.

Rogue was almost within reach of the door at the end of the hallway when she heard cries from behind her. She heard a click, felt a pinch in her shoulder, and with a shudder of electricity and pain she felt herself hit the floor and slip into unconsciousness.


When Rogue awoke, she found herself in a new room. This one, however, was more akin to a very nice prison cell, including a skylight above her that informed her it was twilight. As she rose from the soft comforter that covered her bed, she glanced around: crinkling her nose at the toilet and sink in the corner; glancing curiously in the fully-stocked drawers of the dresser; and finally stepping to the transparent wall that separated her from the darkened corridor beyond.

A muted thud caused her to look up in surprise, and she squinted across the hall to see another room identical to her own, only with a young boy throwing himself against the wall. The cell was in a state of disarray from what she could see, with the dresser overturned and drawers flung about. As the streaked-haired girl watched him push his sweat-soaked bangs away from his forehead, she wondered how long he'd been attempting to break through.

"Hey!" Rogue called out, hearing a dull echo that she took to mean the walls were sound-proofed. However, she could see ventilations slits near the top of the glass, and called out upwards, "Hey!"

The boy across the hall looked up and stared at her. He suddenly pushed up against the wall again, hair flying. "Help!" he cried out to her.

Rogue tried not scoff. Help him? She was in the exact same spot, and wasn't even sure she could help herself. However, he looked so scared, she couldn't help but want to do something to comfort him.

"It's going to be okay!" she shouted through the slits. "What's your name?"

The boy shouted back, but the words were muffled and she couldn't understand. However, the conversation between them was suddenly interrupted by the lights of the hallway suddenly powering up.

As her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, she realized that her and the boy's cells were two of many—that they in fact were lined up in long rows filled with numerous frightened and furious looking teenagers.

The second thing she noticed was the reason for the lights: a small group of people walking down the hallway. They walked slowly, glancing at each cell's occupant with interest.

The floor lit up with dozens of voices, all crying out for help or information, and yet the assembly ignored them as if they couldn't hear, continuing to walk around and investigate the room.

As Rogue watched a boy maybe in his early twenties stop at the cell across from her, she heard him call out, "Hey Luce—what about this one?"

Rogue looked around and watched a dark-skinned girl join her friend, giving the young boy behind the glass an appraising eye before shaking her head with a snort and continuing on.

Appraising. That's what Rogue realized they were doing. The group was judging them, assessing them. But how? And for what?

Rogue strained her ears against the muted roar of voices still calling out to listen on the words of the others, but she could only hear them making observations and claims on the imprisoned.

The noise began to rise up again and she realized that the gang was heading back down the hallway, still ignoring any pleas or demands around them as they huddled together in discussion. She was about to walk back to her bed to reconsider her next move when she realized the girl from before was standing five feet in front of her cell, staring at Rogue methodically.

Rogue couldn't help but notice the scars that peppered the girl's left side, the worst cutting deep into her face from temple down to her jaw. The scars looked old, and Rogue wondered what had caused them.

"Lucy!" a girl's voice called out from down the hall. "You got a pup in this round or are you sitting out?"

Lucy said nothing, but continued to stare at the pale girl. Rogue held her own, all but glaring in response as she watched the older girl's green eyes focus on her.

"Lucy!" the girl yelled again in agitation, finally getting the attention of its target. The black girl brushed aside her hand across her hair, perfectly slicked braids pulled before into a tight pony, smirking and shouting with a British inflection, "In!"

Rogue watched her walk away with the rest of the group, before returning to her bed to try to mute out the dull din of the surrounding ells still trying to be heard.


Okay, hopefully you have a pretty good idea of what kind of style I'm going for, as well as what kind of characters will be involved. Please PM your characters, and remember, detail is our friend!

Guidelines for Character Submission (done in review or PM):

** first and foremost, I reserve the right to make creative changes to any submissions. I'll try to clear anything big with the creator, but I reserve the right to change anything to help my story.

** the biggest factor is that every mutant's power is based on physicality- there is no mental projection or manipulation involved. Characters that demonstrate this are Jubilee, Blob, Spyke, and Toad. Characters that don't are Storm, Jean Grey, Avalanche, and Magneto. All characters need a power based on physical projection.

** there will be various levels of alliance, as will be explained in the following chapters. Your character will either be anti-establishment (desperate to rebel) like Rogue, pro-establishment (loyal to the cause) like Hector/Bloodhound, or self-serving (only interested in protecting themselves) like Lucy. You can, however, have varying or overlapping levels of loyalty (like self-serving but anti-establishment, or hating the system but still loyal to it)

** don't make your character perfect or super-powerful. No submission should be loved by all; unbeatable in the games; or be able to fly, turn invisible, have super-strength, and be able to shoot laser beams from their hands all at once.

** I don't write about characters with sexual-assault or self-harm issues. Fair warning now-it just doesn't happen.

** finally, try to be detailed. The more you write about the character, the more likely I am to see a place for him/her.

Profile:

Name|Nicknames|Code Name:

Which do they go by?:

Age (16-22):

Gender/Sexuality:

Power (remember the rule):

Appearance (height, build, hair/eye color, defining features, Celebrity Look-alike):

Personality:

Likes:

Dislikes

Habits/Quirks:

Fears/Secrets:

History:

Friends' Attributes:

Enemies' Attributes:

Love Interests' Attributes:

Example of dialogue:

Example of using their power:

Loyalty (pro-establishment, anti-establishment, self-serving):

How long has your character been competing?:

How well does your character place? (mostly top brackets, loses a lot, low scores with some wins, hasn't competed yet, etc):

*In this story, they will be provided with an outfit (costume) that enhances/stabilizes their powers somewhat. They'll also have the outfit they were taken in.

What is the outfit they have with them?:

Would they choose to wear it or the costume for the match? (if you want to throw in suggestions for the costume, feel free, but no promises):

Other/Extra: