Disclaimer: First and foremost, I would like to say that I do not own the rights to the movie/games/comics 'StreetFighter' or 'X-Men'; they copyrighted to their respective owners, Capcom and Marvel - the deities higher than I. All characters and personas are trademarked to the aforementioned deities. I only own the original characters that I create to 'spice' up the story. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Notes: This is a Street Fighter/X-Men crossover that takes more of a Street Fighter route in the beginning. I would also like to say to all you hardcore fans that this is my own 'Alternate Universe' where I play God with characters that I don't own and the few I do own. In my created universe, what I say goes. If you don't agree with how I write my story, please don't read it. If you feel you must flame, then by all means let your stupidity shine through. Constructive criticism is always welcomed, though.

Finally, I would like to say that this has been revised a bit from its original posting – just because I've grown in a lot of ways as a writer. I want stories that I have enjoyed writing to reflect this change. Warnings still apply. I still consider this R for language, thematic violence, adult content, etc. Probably more so now that I have revised it. Reader discretion is despised… I mean… advised.

Beauty and Pain
by Tempest

Prologue
Vanity

He secured the straps of his mask around his head, adjusting the mask accordingly. He couldn't risk some atrocious person marking his gorgeous features. His challenger would take too much pleasure in disfiguring him. His beauty was what he lived for, if anyone took that away from him and all that would be left is the pain. The sheer thought of any damage done to his face unnerved him, angered him. His beauty set him apart from the multitude; take that away from him and he was left with virtually nothing.

"Vega! Vega!" He heard the crowd cheer. Oh, how he loved to hear the chant of his name from the doting masses. Nothing gave him more pleasure – but the kill. Never the one to disappoint, Vega walked prominently down the dimly lit hallway. He lavished in the hushed murmurs of adulation from the people who saw him walking through the hallway. They moved to the side, in reverence, to let their champion by, bowing their eyes in silent respect.

"Señor Vega! Mi héroe, mi campeón, te amo!" A young woman wailed as she threw himself at him. He pushed the woman away from him gently. She was decidedly attractive, but she didn't measure up to his standards. While she might be fun to toy with, she was not the type of woman that would be seen accompanying him. Only women with beauty that rivaled his own would do – no exceptions.

"This one is for you and all of Barcelona!" He proclaimed causing a great cheer to arise from the people, his people. He allowed the woman to kiss his hand. It was the least he could to brighten her day; she had come all this way to see him. After she kissed his hand, she scurried away from him. Probably to squeal about her encounter with him with her friends. Oh, but wouldn't they be green with envy? He continued on his journey down the hallway; the cheers became louder and louder as he neared the entrance.

"Look! It is him!" A voice cried as he stood arrogantly in the entranceway. The crowd went into a frenzy. He held his arms up as if he were already victorious. The light bounced of his claw splendidly as he stood for his people to behold him. He walked to the cage as they reached out just to get a touch of him. Women cried and men envied him, but they couldn't deny that they loved him, not that he would expect anything less from them.

"Señoras y señores, su campeón, Vega!" The announcer said causing the cries of his name to only swell louder. Vega scowled at him, but the announcer couldn't see Vega's angry face. Vega deserved a better introduction than the one he received, and once he was finished with his opponent, he would make the announcer pay – in blood.

The blood. It was so beautiful like crimson sapphires flowing from the veins. He had a preoccupation with that bittersweet liquid. Some called it a bloodlust; he called it paradise. Each person's blood smelled different, but all was aromatic to his senses. And the taste! Oh, to taste that warm, humanly wine against his longing taste buds -- to feel that thick, natural juice running down his throat -- was rapture. Surely, this was the nectar of the gods.

"Y su opositor, Carlos Seldena." The announcer said, interrupting Vega's fantasy. The boos that his opponent received were vociferous; it was sweet music to Vega's ears. He turned a deaf ear to the crowd; it was time to get down to business, and he needed to be completely focused only on what was happening in the cage.

Vega watched as Señor Seldena entered the cage. Seldena thrashed around the cage with his arms held high over his head as if he truly expected to get the better of the Spanish ninja. Another hapless amateur who thinks he is a match for me. How quaint. Vega chuckled to himself. Vega took his fighting stance, and Seldena mimicked him. Vega saw that he held a sai in each hand. This is going to be far too easy.

Both fighters moved in a circle around each other, neither striking the first deciding blow. Finally, Seldena charged at Vega with his sais pointed for the man's throat. So unorthodox, Vega complained to himself as he stood his ground. At the last possible moment, Vega spun out of the way of Seldena, as if he were one of the bulls that he used to taunt mercilessly.

Seldena slowed down and turned back towards Vega. Vega brought his claw down gracefully slicing the Seldena's bare chest shallowly. Seldena looked down at the lines of blood forming on his upper body. Seldena growled and charged again obviously not learning his lesson the first time. His efforts earned him a roundhouse administered from the Spaniard. He fell clumsily.

"Misericordia, Señor Vega, Mercy!" The fallen man cried as Vega advanced on him forebodingly. Vega paused; it always amused him when his victims pleaded for mercy.

Then much to Vega's surprise, Seldena reached up and boldly grabbed Vega's arms. He shoved a foot in Vega's stomach brutally, and flipped the man over him. Vega landed on the ground with a thud. Vega quickly stood up, ignoring the pain of his body from the hard landing. This Seldena was a crafty. He had hurt Vega's pride once, but it would not happen again. Seldena stood pompously before Vega, proud of his accomplishment. Vega grinned sadistically behind his mask.

Vega let out an ear-piercing warrior's yell that took Seldena by surprise. Vega rolled towards the man quickly, stopping just before his prey, and stabbing him deeply in the stomach. Everything happened so quickly, Seldena didn't even have time to register shock. He fell to the ground clutching his stomach. Vega was almost disappointed that he hadn't gotten the chance to climb the walls of the cage and show off his acrobatic skills. Sometimes, you just had to go in for the kill.

Vega stood over Seldena's convulsing body. Seldena struggled tersely for air; Vega kneeled beside him looking in his eyes. There was something about looking a man in his eyes right at the moment of his death that entranced Vega. He concluded that it was the fascination of watching the joie de vivre (a phrase he learned from a French assassin he killed) slip from the eyes in mere seconds.

"You have died a noble death at my hands, Seldena. There is no death more dignified than this." Vega said as Seldena's eyes went dull.

"Vega! Vega!" The crowd cheered once again in unison bringing Vega out of his zone. Vega stood and slyly took his mask off, giving the crowd just a glimpse of his beauty. He knew this was the moment the crowd looked forward to the most.

Roses seemed to rain from heaven onto him. He plucked one from the air and laid it neatly on Seldena's motionless body. "Para usted. For you." Vega said, turning away from the body again with little regard.

Vega then turned to face Sagat who sat in a private booth over the peasants as he addressed them. Sagat tipped his champagne class at Vega in congratulation. Vega's unsettling smile covered his face again. He felt truly alive. He was a 'deity' among men. He was untouchable. Nothing—nothing—at all mattered except beauty and pain.

All he cared about was beauty and pain…