Pyromaniacs (Watty Awards)

[]Chapter 9[]

Steve, Tony, and I sat in our suits watching the construction of our stage for the conference later today. At the moment we were taking pictures with fans, and signing autographs, and wow did things get weird fast.

Right now I was kneeling with a little girl, who's forehead was signed with my name. Not only that, her brother was sitting on my shoulders, with my name all over his arms. Requested by...the parents! Strange, huh? It got much stranger than that.

The stage finally got set up, and the three of us made our way over. The chairs had wheels on them, but I knew I had to be professional. No child play today, at least not in the public eye. I was here to set an example.

I heard the announcer ask for questions, and a young woman came up first. "I just have to ask, are you- Pyra -dating Captain America or Iron Man?" she questioned. I chuckled, and leaned into the microphone.

"No, not yet," I replied with a smile, leaning back. The woman nodded and handed the announcer the mic.

A man stepped up. "My question is for all of you: what is your favorite type of music?"

Tony went first. "Rock and Roll," he answered. 

Then Steve. "I'm more of a classical person myself."

Finally, it was my turn. I really didn't know which was my favorite, so I replied, "I don't have one. I guess I like any song with a good beat."

The man nodded and handed a disc to me. I raised an eyebrow, and he said, "That's good to hear. Anyway, that's just a CD from my band,"

I bowed my head in reply, and then the flow of questions got directed towards Steve and Tony. I sat back in my seat, drinking Dr. Pepper. Every now and then I was asked a question, but then it was Cap and Stark's turn again.

Finally, we neared the end of the conference. About three questions were left. An older man stepped forward. "Tomorrow is 9-11. Did you lose anyone in the bombings?" he asked, looking at me.

I leaned, once again, into the mic. "Yes, I did actually. My father," I said, and Tony and Steve's mouths dropped for the second time that day. Apparently they didn't know my father was dead.

The man bowed his head in respect and stepped back. A young woman stepped forward. "I actually seek to ask you about love advice. You sound pretty smart," she said. I nodded and came to the edge of the stage, kneeling.

She whispered her question in my ear, and I thought about how to answer. Her question was: "I'm in love the man I love is dying. What should I do?"

I finally came up with something passable. "I once heard a friend say: enjoy it while it lasts. If there truly is nothing that can be done to save his life- make your love clear and do all you can while he lives," I told her. 

The woman nodded. "He has cancer, and it's treatable, we just don't have the money for it," she once again whispered in my ear. I pulled my wallet out, where I had a small piece of my new fortune. I decided if it was going towards anything, it might as well save a life. 

In a random choice, I handed her a couple hundred dollars and sat back down. The final question was for Steve, and then everyone dispersed. 

~<>~An Hour Later~<>~

I was sitting in the cafe with Steve and Tony, and they were chatting. I wasn't paying much attention, my mind now on the two questions that got to me the most. One, the dating question. I mean, I truly did like both of them, and they liked me. I would figure out a solution to that later.

Two, the question about 9-11, and I realized I hadn't even noticed the coming of it. I made a resolution to go over and visit the monument tomorrow.

"Shania?" Steve said, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

"Hmm?" I replied.

"We asked you why we didn't know your dad was dead yet," Tony said flatly. In my head, I then decided to keep score secretly. Point one for Steve, for not making a smart ass comment about my dead father.

"Because I didn't want to tell you," I hissed, suddenly defensive. My exhaustion was filing in now, and my head hurt. I just didn't feel like tolerating an attitude at the moment.

Steve put his hand on my arm. "Shania, seriously. We are only asking because we care. Why didn't we know about this before?" Point two for Steve. 

I shrugged and ran my hand through my hair. "I don't know. I guess it just never came up. Now excuse me. I need a shower and some more sleep," I stated as flatly as Tony a minute ago, and headed towards my room.

~<>~The Next Day~<>~

I woke up with four things: a better attitude, enough sleep, the ability to shape-shift, and a plan. First off to explain- the plan.

I decided that choosing shouldn't be left for me. In my mind, I had a series of tests prepared to see exactly how far they'd be willing to go for me. As well as a few other tests that I don't feel comfortable talking about. I guess you'll have to just read when they come up. Whoever won, won. I'd also be keeping the tally I started yesterday. 

Next, the ability to shape-shift. I had woken up and stretched like a cat, the image of an old pet popping into my mind. Next thing I know, I'm in the shape of the tiny black green-eyed cat I owned when I was a kid. Luckily, shifting back was just as easy as picturing myself in my mind. I also added some purple streaks in my hair for amusement.

Now came the attitude and enough sleep. Well, I did indeed take my shower and go straight to bed, and only woke up when my body decided too. Overall, thirteen hours of natural sleep. 

I dressed myself, as well as making a few adjustments to myself. Just smoother skin, softer skin, larger eyes, and longer eyelashes. Things I'd wanted for a great amount of time. I put some mascara on anyway and dressed myself in a white shirt with a badass panther on the front. I threw on some skinny jeans as well, grabbing my leather jacket as I walked out the door. My boots accompanied me.

It was only seven in the morning, but already people were bustling around. None of the Avengers however, at least not anyone I saw. I didn't feel like having anybody with me though, so I guessed it was good thing.

I slipped out of the Helicarrier and into town, heading towards the Twin Tower memorial. 

~<>~At The Monement~<>~

Many others were gathered there, but no one paid me mind without the suit on. I simply pushed my way to the front, and began to run my finger over the names, searching quickly for my father's name. 

I didn't expect finding it to be a problem, but as it continued to elude me I grew skeptical. Could this really be everyone recorded as dead? I browsed the list over four times, each time turning up with nought. 

My lip found itself subject to more biting. This made no sense. My father was working on the exact floor the plane hit, but yet it didn't have his name listed here. I will definitely dig into this. I thought to myself.

Meanwhile I waited for results of test number one. The test, in words, was- who would find me first? I had left a note on the fridge in the cafeteria that read: "Out for a bit." I figured at around noon they'd come searching for me.

Simply because this was a small test, it only counted for three points. So far, Steve was in the lead. Anyway, the whole key to success behind this, in my point of view, was not telling them. If I did, they'd go out of their way to earn points, and I didn't want that. They needed to act naturally. 

I sat down at a table outside of Starbucks with a cappuccino waited.

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 This is my 9-11 memorial. No one I know personally died in the terrorist attack, but it was pure horror to watch that day. If you or someone you know lost a loved one, I offer you my condolences.