Chapter Text
Superbia
I'm a fighter, a ROGUE.
So, what? I take pride in the way I fight. They need to stop complaining about the lack of me using my power in the Danger Room. It's not like it would be such a good idea. That's beside the point; the point is I can fight. I can beat any of their sorry asses, no problem. They should stop relying solely on their powers. What will happen when they can't use their powers? You know what will happen? I'll still be fighting - because I can.
I'm good at it, always have been. Fighting is as simple as breathing for me. I've been trained in different styles for a long time. I've been doing it longer than any of these stupid idiots. I don't have to touch these low lives. I don't have to stoop down to their level and torture myself when I get mentally assaulted. I don't have to use my powers to win in the Danger Room. I can survive just being me. I don't have to sully my skin to touch these people.
When I fight, the metaphorical gloves come off. I can take off my real ones, but I can fight without my power. I can utilize my entire body to destroy any opponent. The others can only wish to have half of my skills. They must use their abilities constantly to win when we spar and run battle simulations in the Danger Room. Kitty always needs to phase to dodge kicks, punches, and everything else. Jean creates force fields to dodge projectiles. That is unless she can stop them in midair. Kurt? Teleports away from everything. I want to say Scott can be decent when fighting, but he relies too much on blasting things away from him with his optical blast. It is ridiculous.
They need to stop focusing on solely their powers and fight.
So, what if I can't touch the skin of someone else? I'm good at what I can do.
And what I do is fight.