Here is my MCR story that I have MAJOR inspiration to work on. Also, just finished chapter 2 for my other one!

I AM GOING TO SEE MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE IN THEIR "CONTAMINATE THE WORLD" CONCERT!

Disclaimer: I do not (obviously) own MCR or (the super sexi) Gerard Way.

The room was small and white, nothingness on every side. The only variation in the four walls was the vague silhouette of a door on one of them. During the day, the only way you would be able to tell it existed were the four thin black lines outlining it. During the night, iridescent purple light seeped through from the stark white hallways. Outside the walls of the room there was a constant flurry of activity.

Scientists running tests, employees nodding blankly at instructions mumbled through intercoms. Faceless people wearing black and white boots scurried up and down the corridor in white uniform jumpsuits and carrying guns. Every two or three days someone would attempt to rescue him. False alarms nearly every time. He still hoped, though.

The occasional click click click of stiletto heels on the linoleum flooring left the sole prisoner shivering. He didn't want to admit it, but the gaunt Japanese woman scared him. It was her piercing eyes that haunted his nightmares. Today the hallway was quiet, the only sound was the guard occasionally shifting position or asking for clearance to this sector of the building. The two blue-white lights thrummed with electricity, seeming to contain a hive of bees that would overtake him with their sound. Their gentle, insistent humming that never ceased.

There was no true time in this horrid place. When he had been out in the desert, he could tell when night and day started and ended. There was the rising and setting of the scorching California sun. You could tell everything by the length of the darting black shadows on the ground. That's the land he missed, the land where his friends were. The land where time and colors and people existed.

The only color he knew was red. The brightly dyed crimson of his hair that was slowly growing in black at the roots. It was jaggedly cut and fell into his eyes like curtains. The shaggy display was his only entertainment during the very boring days when the broadcasts on the in-wall radio stopped. They taunted him sometimes, playing clips of Dr. Death Defying's radio station. It worried him that they knew of his friend's secret weapon, but thankfully no one understood the code. The Dracs were too stupid and Korse was no better at it. They had tried to make him talk, but he refused.

Party Poison waited in that colorless, bleak little room. He seemed to wait forever. But he had to see what tomorrow would bring.

Days were ticked off by the number of meals he received and what they consisted of. The scientists who ran The Institute had lots of money,\ and provided lavish meals for the three or four patients they had. Party Poison knew he was only being held here until they decided how and when to kill him. He had attempted to escape more times than any normal person could count, but he continually failed. So he waited. Waited for what tomorrow would bring.

PARTY POISON / \ NOSIOP YTRAP

She didn't have a lifestyle like all the other teenagers her age. The pills had no effect on her, although she took the assigned dosage every day. She could still see in color, still smell, still understand, still be curious, still feel things. Her boyfriend, (ex-boyfriend now) didn't feel anything. He said "I love you," like a robot. She'd had enough of it. She was going out into the world to find those Killjoys.

The Fabulous Killjoys had come to her school once. They had taken little Gracie Jean away. The four men had been intimidating and fierce; the TeachBots didn't even interfere as they escorted Gracie out, looking rather like an old action film. She'll admit, she watched behind them for a multicolored explosion to occur.

Gracie had looked happy to see them and ran out of the building while pulling on a helmet and rainbow vest. Color was forbidden in Battery City! The citizens were issued their clothes, and they consisted of black and white uniforms. These "Killjoys" must have had something to do with all the revolutionary movements going on behind the government's back, and she was desperate to find them.

Katarina Kalvingston was her given identity. Her parental units were Martha and Robert Kalvingston. Normal names for normal people, that's what BL/Ind said on the commercial. That's what the Identification For The Future pamphlet said when it arrived every month with the government-issued baby names. The same old mechanical, stoic, boring, black and white that she was sick of.

One night she snapped, deciding that she was through with this life. She wanted to be her own person since the sedatives had no effect on her strong-willed mind. She grabbed her wallet and a duffel full of food and water before sneaking out of her house and into the dark streets. Of course it was like something out of a Ray Bradbury novel, with no one about. Everyone was programmed to be asleep by now. That's what the pills told them to do.

By midmorning she was lost in Zone 1C with no idea what to do. Then she saw it, a figure moving along the dusty road wearing polka dotted tights? She might have been hallucinating, but Kat approached it anyway.

"Hello!" Kat called. The figure instantly pulled a light blue spray-painted ray gun. "Stop! I'm one of you!"

"Get over here, hands in the air," whoever it was approached slowly on roller skates.

"I'm sorry to have startled you," Kat apologized.

"My name is Show Pony, and there is nothing to be sorry for if you're telling the truth," the person, apparently a young man, said darkly. "Ever since Party Poison died, we've been a lot stricter."

"I have no idea who that is sir," Kat mumbled, allowing the man to search her bags for any weapons or tracking devices. Pleased with his discoveries, the man put his gun away and looked her up and down.

"What are you wearing?" he asked in disgust.

"Clothes," she stated. He shook his head in impatience.

"Killjoys wear colors," Show Pony insisted, scooting her along to a rundown radio station. It was there that her first real Killjoy outfit was bestowed upon her. After changing, Kat looked down at herself in comfortable pleasure.

A pair of tight, dark purple skinny jeans that had rips at the knees. Her shirt was lime green and said "KEEP YOUR GUN CLOSE" across the front in block letters. Overtop that went a black leather vest with multiple pockets and silver studs. On her left thigh was a black leather holster, complete with bright purple spray painted ray-gun. She pulled the gun out, examining it. It was obviously old and worn, out of date by her standards.

"Today is the day Killjoys," a man dressed much like a pirate entered the room. She felt confusion take over as she struggled to listen and understand the strange code he was speaking in. "We're busting Party Poison outta there!"

"But he's dead!" complained Show Pony.

"Not as far as I'm concerned," Pirate Guy stated. "He's dead to me when I see the body."

"I'm sure," Kat muttered under her breath, looking around for the first time. The small safe house was dilapidating under their feet, the walls were warped and the ceiling was sinking in on itself. "I'm Dr. Death Defying by the way," Pirate Guy, now Dr. Death Defying, introduced himself. "Call me Dr. D."

"I'm Katarina," she offered hand to shake.

KATARINA'S POV

"That's a boring BL/Ind name!" said an unfamiliar man. Three unusual figures stood against a table, clustered together in a huddled group.

"I don't have another one," I shrugged. They looked back and forth between each other. One of them, with nearly shoulder-length black hair stepped forward and held her at arms length, examining me. I blushed under his firm gaze, my eyes roaming his face. It was wide, and his smile was infectious.

"I'm Fun Ghoul," he smiled gently, "Ghoul for short."

"Jet Star, Jet for short." piped up the man with the curly hair.

"Kobra Kid, Kobra for short," said the third and final stranger. He had layered blond/brown hair that he spiked up and was wearing red leather. His face struck her as familiar, but she couldn't figure out why. She ignored the feeling as Ghoul began speaking again.

"We had a fourth member, his name was Party Poison. He was Kobra Kid's older brother. He was captured about six months ago by BL/Ind. We've been planning to rescue him for a long time now, but needed another Killjoy's help. Looks like we found one."

That's where she recognized Kobra Kid from! Party Poison was under her father's care! He was a scientist at BL/Ind's Insitute! She knew that place inside out and backwards! She could help them get Party Poison back…

"She's barely been here for five minutes! You can't just rush her into your insane plans," Show Pony declared, slamming his fist on a counter. The noise thundered through the house, and a pair of wide brown eyes peeked in the door.

A little girl, no older than ten, stepped into the room. Her curly hair was contained in a helmet covered in stickers. Her rainbow vest was zipped closed and dirt smudged her cheeks. She sent me a suspicious glance. "Who is that?"

"Katarina, newest Killjoy recruit," Ghoul said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. The little girl glared at me now, eyes narrowed in obvious anger and suspicion. Gracie Jean?

"Is she one of them?" she asked.

"I don't know," Dr. D stepped forward. The little girl's eyes softened as they spoke silently to each other, not needing words to understand each other.

"I'm G-Force," the little girl wrapped her skinny arms around my waist. I removed them, kneeled, and gave her a real hug. I had always been the motherly type.

"What's your nickname?" G-Force asked. I shook my head.

"I don't have one."

"Kobra!" she called over her shoulder. The requested man stepped out of the group. "Get me the purple hair dye and some plastic gloves. Katarina, come with me."

I followed in avid curiosity. She had me get my hair wet under a sink as she prepared something in a little black bowl. I giggled a little as she slicked purple streaks through my blond bangs. I was getting my hair dyed by a ten year old girl, and I really didn't care.

"Don't worry about your hair, I used to dye Party Poison's all the time," G-Force insisted. I just blinked as water stung my eyes.

"I totally trust you," I admitted, surprising myself. I had always been picky about my image, trying to rebel against the rules but still remain free and unwarranted.

"You need a Killjoy name, otherwise no one will take you seriously," G-Force, who I knew was Gracie Jean now, said.

"What do you think you should call me?" I asked.

"I know you from school, you'd always make a lie sound true. I think we should call you Truthful Blasphemy," she suggested.

"I like that!" I exclaimed. G-Force giggled, rinsing my hair out and wrapping it in a towel.

"You' have purple streaks in your hair now, something special for a new recruit."

"Where do you get the hair dye?" I asked, picking up the bottle and reading the label.

"Far away. Dr. D has some connections that bring us colorful clothing and hair dye. Unfortunately, they don't make food," she grimaced at something. I smiled and rubbed my hair nearly-dry. As I walked from the room, G-Force ran ahead. She stood in front of the doorway, with me just behind her but out of sight.

"Presenting the newest Killjoy, a runaway from right in the very heart of Battery City itself, Truthful Blasphemy!" She flung her arms out and stepped aside. I walked out of the narrow door, bowing from the waist. Fun Ghoul was smiling, Kobra Kid was emotionless and Jet Star was chuckling. Dr. D remained in a good mood and Show Pony was just being obstinate.

"So, I have some important information for you," I said, leaning against the doorframe casually.

"What could you possible have to help us?" Kobra Kid spat. I didn't like his attitude.

"Have any of you heard of The Institute on the edge of Battery City?"

"Yeah," Kobra said. "So what?"

"My dad worked there. He said they have this inmate that is under BL/Ind jurisdiction. I've seen him."

"What does this have to do with rescuing my brother?" Kobra interrupted, standing up from his chair to pace the floor. I glared at him.

"If you'd let me finish, I could tell you!" I snapped.

"Hurry up," Kobra was just getting on my nerves now.

"Well, I've seen him before. Through a window that looks just like the other three walls. He has bright red hair that nearly covers his eyes, which are hazel. His codename is FKPP, which I'm guessing stands for 'Fabulous Killjoy Party Poison'." I finished.

"This is amazing! She has all the information!" Fun Ghoul clapped his hands excitedly.

"This seems to be moving a bit too fast," Jet interjected. "I'm not sure I trust you. I've only just met you, I mean, we all have."

"I've known her for awhile, before you came to rescue me," G-Force stepped forward, a look of childish impudence on her face. "She could make any story sound true. But this, I know she's telling the truth. I know her father and he does work at The Institute. I say we follow her." Every time little Grace stressed a word, she would jab a member of the party in the chest.

"If G-Force believes her, so do I. Even Party knew not to go against Grace," Kobra admitted with a sullen smile.

"Then it's settled. Tell us what you know."

Yeah, I spell Sexi with an 'i'. Got a problem with that?

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