Miss Mary the Pyromaniac

I have a friend.

This friend is where I received my very mediocre skills in fire manipulation-- I get most of my powers from observing and imitating others, the way Mystique changes her form. The only thing I can naturally do is fly-- and climb trees. I climb quite well.

Unfortunately, she also tends to have quite a temper in the Dreamworld, so when she is unable to get the part she desires in the Broadway play she tries out for, she decides to burn the theater down. She leaps to the stage and conjures from her lighter a glowing fiery bear. It dances to her mesmeric song and grows, till it reaches the rafters. The other auditioners, and the critics, stare speechless. Then a little blond girl lets out the first hysterical scream.

Panic ensues, and I leap after Mary as she escapes from the chaos, leaving Becca and Amanda to contain the damage. I catch up with her outside an old abandoned Starbucks, and grab her shoulder.

"Mary, WHAT were you thinking? So what if you didn't get the main part, you can't just burn the place down! You're supposed to be a superhero! You have to control these urges!"

She sulks, ripping her arm away from my grasp. "So what if I am? I take care of this town, I've saved these people from destruction a thousand times over, and what credit do I get? They don't even know I exist! I'm the best singer this side of the galaxy, I can break windows or lure the spirit of fire with these lungs, and they don't want to give them a part in the show? Forget it. I'm done saving these high-and-mighty skulkers. This place is so not legit." She stomps off, leather jacket smoking slightly from a singe-mark in the left sleeve.

I run after her. "Look-- I'm sorry that you didn't get the part. I know you'd have been great. But-- you can't just go off and be a giant PRAT! I mean...."

"What she's trying to say," interrupts Laila at a quite suitable moment, "Is that this isn't the best way to deal with the situation. Perhaps you could instead turn it to your advantage. Show the world that you are bigger than Broadway, that you have something even better to offer. Why not try starting your own company? You have the experience." I breathe a sigh of relief, as the two keep talking and the ardor of the flames in the theater slowly snuff out. It turns out, nothing was even very badly burnt. Mary never meant any lasting harm. She just wanted to scare, to impress. The flames were imitations. I thank the stars that I have a sister like Laila, for both fighting crime and settling disputes.

As the four of us friends drive home that night (across the stars, me flying alongside and hanging loosely onto the windowframe, Amanda using shield energy to transport the heavy van across the sky), I feel at peace.