Celestina had woken up excited. Today was going to be amazing, exhilarating, yet terrifying. It was going to be intense, sure. There could be META bots, anti-mutant counter protesters, jerk police, terrorists. This was it though. It was the Ten Thousand Fist March in New York City. Of course, they were not even remotely expecting that many people to show up. Maybe about 1,000. 2,000 if they're really lucky. It was just a name but a name symbolized meaning. That could have a powerful impact. Hopefully, anyways. The march was primarily dedicated to Mutant Rights and their equal treatment under the law, but several other groups had been invited - LGBTQ, minorities, the progressives, etc, were all coming out to stand in solidarity against what felt like a clock being turned back. Whether it was or not, who knew except for the future generations. 

It was starting in downtown Manhattan and go towards City Hall. Once at City Hall, they had numerous speakers lined up. Even a couple bands agreed to be there in support. Celeste was going from social media activist to real life activist. That was a scary jump. It meant things were going to get real, that she was going to have to do her best to not say mean things on social media, and had to be an upstanding citizen. At least, kinda. Ultimately, Celeste wanted to make a difference. Her mutation wouldn't help her too much with that, unless a nuclear war broke out (which, she couldn't entirely rule out giving the current political environment of the United States.) Not to mention, 50% of the population would begin to hate her guts even more than they already did. Yikes! 

In either case, Marisol Cervantes had decided to join her in her march for equal treatment under the law. No taxation without representation. All that fun, cheesy stuff that politicians say when they're trying to protect different peoples rights. OF course, it came home to Celeste - her family were anti-mutants, she had even fended off a few attacks from anti-mutant people in New York City, and some of her friends have had a hard life because of it. She was motivated, not only by Mari, but by Devon and their intense talk after she watched his speech.

In either case, she had arrived only half way dressed for the fall weather. She wanted to look as cute as possible yet as professional as possible. It seemed like a good compromise - even if she got a little cold. After the walking, the potential speech, she'd be fine... Right? Either way, she was wearing a beautiful burgundy dress with light colored cuffs and heels. She even made her hair up into a professional, yet slightly messy, double dutch braid bun. 

She had agreed to meet Marisol at the start of the march about an hour and a half before it began - that way, they could grab some food, create their marching posters, and she could drag Marisol with her at the front of the line with the other organizers. After all, Celeste wouldn't have had the courage if it wasn't for Marisol and her favorite teacher, Mr. Holloway.  She wasn't required to do a speech but the other organizers were all going to make short ones and they offered her an opportunity too as well. She figured she mine as well take it, and had prepared for such. She wasn't too much in love with the idea and never made a firm yes or no on it. She'd see how she felt when the time came. A couple of the organizers even had friends with local news channels, which would be there. It made it all the more exciting. And terrifying. Was she ready to be on T.V.? Yikes...

She checked her phone a couple times as she stood on the sidewalk and then she decided to send a quick text to Mari:

Hey!!! I'm here! Are you close?

Celeste wasn't sure if Mari would be all that comfortable in such a large group of people and wanted to find her as soon as she could. Heck, Celeste wasn't even sure if she was going to be completely okay in this large group of people. There was already so many people there. 

Marisol Cervantes did not like crowds. She was iffy on people, but crowds were a definite problem. Living in New York, Marisol was still learning to cope with the densely packed population of the city. The subways were crowded, the sidewalks were crowded, and even restaurants and stores had too many people in them. Knowing her introverted tendencies, Marisol was trying not to become a hermit simply to avoid the mobs, but it took a conscious effort.

If there was one person in New York who could compel Marisol to leave the safety of her dorm, it was Celestina De Ward. As Marisol’s best friend, Celeste knew how to motivate the dancer to step out of her comfort zone. Sometimes, Marisol put up a fight, but not always. The Ten Thousand Fists March was something Marisol would not miss for the world.

When the girls met, Celeste was still looking for something to be passionate about. Marisol knew she would find something that clicked, and with the way she got involved and took on an actual leadership role with the March, it appeared activism was Celeste’s singing and dancing. The thing that she felt so strongly about, her face lit up when she talked about it. Marisol wanted to be supportive about anything that made Celeste that happy.

Well, she wanted to be, but some situations were harder than others. As Celeste’s best friend, Marisol was the first to receive an excited call with the news that Celeste had an official boyfriend. It was great for her and she was excited and Marisol was definitely happy to see her happy, especially after the painful loss of her friend and roommate. Marisol was just entirely unsure how she felt about what was making the blonde girl happy. It was irrational; Marisol had yet to meet “Jude,” so she had no reason to think the worst of the guy, even though he could totally be a cheater or a bully or a criminal.

If she was being honest, the problem was with herself, not the shady guy Celeste was dating. Since their movie night, things were back to normal between the girls. Almost. Most days, things were exactly the way they had been for months. Marisol would have the time to convince herself that the movie night was a fluke. Then Celeste would wear her hair a certain way. Or she’d sing while cleaning off tables. Or she’d go on an excitable tangent about politics.

And Marisol would swoon. It was becoming a problem because she was finally convinced the feeling was swooning. She had no reason to recognize it before; it was like someone who never experienced heartburn suddenly getting hit with it. They would not have the words to describe it, but they would know it hurt.

Celeste was definitely doing something to Marisol’s heart, but she was convinced it was a byproduct of being part of a friendship closer than she had experienced in the past. As someone who was not well-versed in friendships and personal relationship, she had to accept there would be a learning curve.

So, Marisol arrived in downtown Manhattan in jeans and a black top with a red and black flannel wrap to take on the cold. She wore her hair free along with a black hat. She would be the best friend Celeste could ask for, backing her up on her big day, not speaking ill of a boyfriend she had not met.

And when she approached Celeste from behind, spotting her in a cute-yet-professional dress with her hair done up elaborately and beautifully, she would ignore the swooning sensation and the butterflies in her stomach.

The buzzing of Marisol’s phone thankfully distracted her. She grinned when she realized it was from the girl who had not yet realized her best friend was approaching from behind. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Marisol walked quickly and carefully with the footfalls of a dancer so she could sneak up and wrap her arms around Celeste’s waist from behind. ”Turns out I’m very close,” she replied with a giggle. ”Ready to change the world?”

Celeste knew she'd need to keep Mari pretty close to her during the march. There was going to be a lot of mutants and she didn't want Mari to accidentally freak a person out when they realized they lost their abilities around her. Luckily, most people had no idea and there was no plans for powers to be on show unless they were colorful ones. Like making rainbows, or shooting fireworks, or well, maybe medical if the police decided to destroy them? They had a permit, had the necessary paperwork filed with the city. It was going to be like a gay pride march. Or maybe like the million women march in U.S.'s capital way back when. 

She had been nervous ever since she managed to get herself into a planning role with the march. She had helped file the paperwork, organize the march through the streets, and the subsequent protest in front of city hall. Luckily, a majority of the city leaders supported it and even a couple of them had decided to come. The mayor had decided he was going to do a small closing speech for the group. He was trying to gain some political capital with the recent situations involving him and the feds. 

In either case, Celeste couldn't wait to see Mari. Mari was awesome, coming out to be with her during this time. If she was going to give her own speech in front of hundreds of people, there was no doubt she was going to need her there to give her the encouragement she was inevitably going to need. 

Celeste looked around as much as she could but was unable to see a Marisol anywhere in her sight - until, turns out, Mari was showing up behind her. Celeste let out a small squeak at the sudden hug from behind before she heard Marisol's voice. Oh good, she wasn't about to get kidnapped. Thank God. Her fear immediately turned into laughter and she turned around and gave Mari a huge hug, "Ahhh! I'm so excited! And you look amazing!" Her voice was only a slightly few pitches higher. Mainly due to nerves, excitement, and everything else. "Follow me, we can grab some grub and make our posters!" She gave Mari a smile as she grabbed her hand and started dragging her towards the little tents that had been set up, selling all sorts of items. 

"Just fair warning, I'm so nervous and slightly bossy and dying a little on the inside, so I'm sorry for anything in advance." She chuckled. Whew, thank god Mari was able to come. She felt like she might have been a wreck by herself.

She pulled her phone out and pulled up her MyFace page and showed it to Mari, "Mari, look how many people are following my personal account. I even created a fan page and there's even more people following it now. It's freaking crazy - I've barely even done anything." Granted, some of the messages that were popping up not only in her fan page one but her personal was... Scary, to be frank. She knew people were full of sh*t, but some of the messages were extremely rude, uncalled for, and well, disgusting. 

Going to the march was something Marisol needed to do, because there was no way she was going to miss Celeste’s big day. As excited as she was, there was still plenty to be anxious about. Marisol was willingly going out into a massive crowd, but that was only part of the problem.

While there would be many allies to the mutant cause like herself there, plenty of mutants would be taking part in the march. With her adapted powers, Marisol’s presence could be a problem. A mutant could get offended, or worse: her power could cause discomfort or complications for a mutant whose powers were necessary. She considered if there might be some way to distinguish herself as an adapted, but the idea of carrying a sign felt like she would be speaking about herself on a platform that was meant for mutants. Even worse, it could be seen as a threat or it could invite trouble from mutants who hated the existence of adapteds—which her Tío did warn her was a thing.

All Marisol could do was be careful, hope for the best, and stay as close to Celeste as possible, which she was already getting started on with the hug. The surprise attack resulted in a satisfying squeak followed by an even more appreciated hug. The compliment pinkened Marisol’s cheeks immediately because she was convinced she looked like nothing special compared to how Celeste was wearing her dress. ”You look gorgeous in that dre—woo!” Marisol was not able to finish her compliment before an excitable Celeste grabbed her hand.

And there were the butterflies.

As one of the event organizers, Celeste knew her way around the tents they set up to prepare. People were working on signs, greeting early arrivals, and talking with curious onlookers. Several food vendors had their carts set up and were even offering discounts for the sake of the March. It was smart business; even with the discounts, marchers were hungry people and the vendors would make a killing, especially with the heavenly mix of scents Marisol was walking through.

There was no denying Celeste was in her element, but she was also clearly nervous. If Marisol had to guess, the sudden influx of followers on social media came with a lot more pressure to succeed. That was why she was there, thankfully. ”They’re following you because they are excited because they can just tell how awesome you are. And, by proxy, how awesome this march is going to be. And it’s going to be awesome,” she assured her friend, giving the hand she was still holding a squeeze. ”I still can’t believe you got the Mayor to speak! Actually, wait, yes I can. As previously stated: you’re awesome.”

Celeste took a breath as she looked around the very busy streets of New York City. It was going to a, well, interesting and nerve wrecking time. She was excited. She was excited Marisol was with her. But her insecurities and desire for perfection were driving her into nervousness. Was she really going to do this? Was this something she even wanted to do? Yes, yes it was... But was it? It was too late to back out of it either way, at least now. 

She gave Mari a sweet, warm smile as she started to compliment her dress but Celeste had already taken off with her in tow behind her. She heard a woo and she couldn't help but giggle. Celeste motioned around, "I'll introduce you to the other organizers later. We're not meeting up until about 10 minutes before it starts, so we have some time." She gave Marisol another smile, "So, what are you craving? Or are you even hungry? I'm not sure if you ate before you came or not? I figure we can grab some food and head off to a street side and start on our posters!" She grinned big, her mind already trying to plan for awesome protest slogans to put on them. Hopefully, she could come up with some good slogans, at least.

She laughed at Marisol's words. She was just being sweet, surely people didn't think of her as awesome, "I dunno about all that... But I mean, maybe we can make a difference. It's our best change. Oh look, here is the poster stuff, let's go ahead and get it." She stopped as they went past a small vendor that had set up carrying all sorts of poster sizes and paints, markers, and other things to make good, fancy signs.

She smiled as she pulled some money out of her purse and handed it over for two poster boards with wooden things holding them up, plus a pack of markers. She even blushed a little, "Well... I don't know, he probably just wanted to get some political points or something, who knows." She shrugs, "Maybe he cares, maybe he doesn't. I guess we'll find out in the upcoming city council crap or whatever." 

The excitement in the air was electric and contagious to everyone gathering around. Marisol was surrounded by people, but they were all gathered for a good cause and that made things feel easier to process. After what the skittish blonde told her about some organization taking mutants off the streets, it was more important than ever that everyone, human, mutant, and adapted, watched out for one another.

The excitement was clearly getting to Marisol’s nervous friend who was rattling off questions. Putting a reassuring hand at Celeste’s back, Marisol smirked and answered, ”I’m starving, that sounds great, and you’re going a mile a minute, hun.” She pulled back her hand quickly since they were in public and Marisol was not sure why she kept finding ways to touch Celeste.

Looking over the grouping of carts, Marisol called out the first delectable scent she was picking up from the collective. ”Mmm, falafel. I think that’ll hit the sweet spot.” Not terribly unhealthy, plenty of flavor, and portable enough to eat on the move.

Celeste grabbed them plenty of supplies and was quick to pay. Marisol was not going to object, but she did make note of the gesture as she stayed in the conversation. At the mention of the mayor, Celeste downplayed his speech like she was trying not to make a big deal about her success. ”I mean, you might be right; mi madre always said politicians only know how to lie and recognize a photo op.” Marisol’s mother was an awesome, independent role model who just happened to instill a healthy amount of questioning in her daughter. ”That doesn’t change how huge it is that you made this happen.”

With supplies in hand, Marisol led the way to the a cart with Middle Eastern food, following her nose to the source of the scents. Placing an order for her falafel in pita with tomato, lettuce, cucumber, and light on the tahini sauce, she turned to Celeste. ”What are you feeling? We can hit up another cart, too. The only condition is I’m the one paying this time,” she demanded with a wink, wanting to keep things fair and even with her friend. Celeste owed her nothing; Marisol was exactly where she wanted to be.

There was a lot of people already here - Celeste felt like maybe they actually would have above expected attendance. If they did, that would be amazing. They would be sending an amazing message to not only NYC, but to the nation, heck, maybe even the world. They had a chance to make a real impact. It might be short lived, of course, but still. Either way, she wouldn't regret being apart of something amazing and she hoped Marisol wouldn't either.

She smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, I'm just like... So nervous." She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck, "It's just gotten so serious so quickly. I wasn't expecting it."

She sniffed the air with Marisol and nodded, "That does smell really good, actually." Celeste shrugged, "She  isn't wrong, that's for sure. I guess we'll see what he actually does to help mutants and humans and all that fun stuff. Actions speak a lot more words than photos and speeches." She blushed a little, "Well, thanks for your vote of confidence. I guess we'll see if it pays off eventually."

With that, they headed over to the Middle Eastern food cart. Celeste wasn't too hungry, mainly due to her nerves, so she thought for a moment. She was kind of craving a simple slice of cheese pizza, which luckily for them was only a cart over, "I think I'm going to get a slice of pizza. And fineee." She grinned as she walked over once Mari had her food and got her one slice of pizza - she even let Mari buy her slice. 

The kind words of reassurance Marisol provided could be seen as a friend being supportive, but she was genuinely impressed by everything Celeste and the other organizers were able to put together. Political events happened all the time, but they had drummed up so much genuine support, there was no way the news would not report on the rally.

That was a badge of honor for someone who was still only eighteen. It was getting serious, but it was also the kind of event that could get Celeste’s foot in the door if political activism was something she really wanted to pursue. ”It’s serious, but you can handle it. You were made for this!” Until it was time for the event to begin, Marisol was going to be a fountain of compliments and reassuring comments.

Holding her pita pocket with careful reverence, Marisol turned her attention to the pizza cart. It was hard to blame Celeste for her choice; they were in New York and neither was a native, so New York pizza was kind of a big deal. ”I can support this choice both emotionally and financially,” she joked, setting money down on the counter to pay for the last of their food.

With food and supplies in hand, the girls found an area away from all the commotion to work on their signs. Sitting cross-legged, Marisol looked at her blank sign and took a bite of her falafel. She chewed the fried chickpea-based treat while she contemplated the best message to show her care for the cause. She wanted to be a loyal, supportive friend to both mutants and Celeste.

Which reminded her… ”So, how are things going with this new boy of yours?” Marisol did what she could to keep her tone even. Jude apparently made Celeste happy, so it would be wrong of her as a best friend to ignore the situation and pretend he did not exist.

Regardless of how much more she liked the sound of that plan.

Celeste smiled towards Marisol. She was such a da*n good friend. How in the world did she get this lucky to have such a awesome friend? There was no way she would ever let anything ever come between the two of them. They clicked so well together. Plus, Celeste would trust Marisol with her life and she knew she would do anything to help protect her.

She grinned, "Well, I really hope so. Otherwise, it's going to be one embarrassing day!" She joked. She had to do something to not let her nerves eat her alive, after all.

She laughed, "Well, good. Although, you really didn't have to pay for my food," she smiled, "But I appreciate it either way." 

Once they had found a way past the large groups of people, they found a nice little spot to eat and work on their signs. It was even kind of quiet. Only kind of. She watched Mari as she took a bite of her falafel, "Taste good?" She had only had it a couple times before but never had it through a street cart. Food had a special charm in situations like this. She stared at her blank poster as she took a bite of her pizza, with a quick glance at her watch. They still had plenty of time, "You know, I have no idea what to put on my poster." 

She perked a brow at Marisol's question. Her tone seemed very... Neutral, about it. Celeste had called her super excited. It was really exciting for Celeste - she hadn't had a boyfriend in a while and she definitely wasn't expecting to meet someone like Jude in New York City. Of course, it was NYC so she wasn't entirely sure why she wasn't expecting it... Oh well. She smiled, "It's great, it's going well!" Celeste wasn't sure if she really should go into details considering Marisol's very unexcited tone about it. 

Maybe it was not necessary to pay for Celeste’s food, but Marisol wanted to do something nice for her friend on her big day. ”Please, you bought the supplies. It’s no big deal. Your thanks and smile are all I need,” she replied melodramatically, before her smile grew too wide and she had to laugh. They were friends doing their fair share for one another. It was not even like she was treating Celeste, though given the opportunity she would. Celeste was too quick paying for the posters and markers, and in hindsight, Marisol would have liked to take care of everything for the sake of her friend who had already done so much. Maybe when all was said and done, she could treat Celeste to dinner to celebrate. Just a nice dinner between friends where one offered to pay for the meal. A very friendly concept.

Celeste asked about Marisol’s food, which earned enthusiastic nodding before they both returned to their posters. Evidently, they were both stumbling into writer’s block. Artist’s block? Activist’s block? Was that a thing? Taking their minds off the boards for a second could help, but sadly, Marisol was not a big fan of the conversation she had decided to open up.

Much to her surprise, Celeste did not say much. She was clearly enthusiastic and confident in her relationship, which was… whatever. Marisol expected more because the initial phone call she received after the couple made things official was filled with excited run-on sentences. Maybe it was just harder to keep up that level of excitement over time? Eventually updates about Jude would be more blasé and maybe even exasperated.

Marisol felt guilty for how much she enjoyed that thought.

”That’s good,” Marisol replied, trying to put on a believable smile. ”Always nice when a new relationship is going well. Shame he couldn’t make it today, though. Was he busy?” Too busy to come support his girlfriend? Well, that was not fair. Marisol’s director almost rescheduled a rehearsal to coincide with the rally and if he did, she would have been in an unwinnable position. Jude probably wanted to be there, even if Marisol hoped he was just disinterested.

Okay, really, when did she become such a b***h? That was her reputation, sure, but Marisol never thought she was really mean before. Changing the topic was the best idea. ”Want a bite of falafel?” Marisol held out the pita pocket; it had several bites in it, but she was not a germaphobe. Well, she was. But it was Celeste. She felt like the exception. ”Might be the brainfood you need for your poster!”

She gave Marisol a genuine, thankful smile. She perked a brow at Marisol's melodramatic wording. She knew she was being serious, but at the same time, it was definitely melodramatic. Celeste couldn't help but start laughing with Marisol. She wasn't even sure what the end of the march would mean for her or her future. Maybe this is what her calling was - being a politician? Maybe she was actually the person that people warn there kids about. That wasn't too good to think about. Celeste would be a better politician, though. She'd be a Leslie from Parks & Recreation! 

She was glad Mari's food was good. That was a good sign, at least. She sighed as she stared at the poster, "Maybe Human Rights is Mutants Rights? Or... Maybe... Humans Rights for All," she grumbled more to herself than to Marisol.

Celeste kept a brow perked as she listened to Marisol ask if he was busy. She nodded, "Yeah, work conflicts." She shrugged, "I can't wait for you guys to meet, though." She wasn't entirely sure what it was but Marisol just didn't seem that happy about it. She wasn't sure why - she hoped that she wasn't jealous or anything due to her lack of sexuality. What if she was? Celeste did her best to not make anyone uncomfortable and the vibes she got from Marisol weren't that great. 

She nodded excitedly, "Yeah, definitely. It might just help!" She leaned over and took a big bite of the falafel. She savored the taste as she chewed through it and sighed with content as she swallowed, "Mmm, wow, that is so really delicious. Maybe we can at least get people to come eat."

As expected, work kept Jude from joining them at the rally, which was disappointing. For Jude. As much as Celeste seemed excited for the pair to meet, Marisol was unsure of how that would go. She needed to figure herself out before she was put in a position like that. Her friend was giving her chest and stomach flutters, so meeting her boyfriend was a recipe for rude, passive-aggressive comments. She decided to just nod and leave the topic there.

Celeste took the offering of falafel, finding yet another way to be self-deprecating about the event. Maybe it was the conversation about Jude, but Marisol felt the need to be more direct with her friend because the gentle support was not stopping the unrelenting nerves. ”People are coming because they care. They’ll show up because you helped to inspire them. Because you’re amazing and you’re making a difference. So give yourself more credit, okay?”

Taking a deep breath and realizing she was coming off a little strong, (though entirely out of love,) Marisol settled down and looked at Celeste’s sign. ”I think ‘human rights for all’ can come across wrong, like the humans are the focus. I like what you said the first time. But flip it; ‘Mutant Rights are Human Rights.’ You’re mutant, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t human and you don’t deserve the same rights as anyone else.” In Marisol’s head, it made the most sense.

Putting a marker to her own poster, Marisol finally found her idea, inspired by Celeste’s idea. In blocky, clear letters, Marisol started writing:

MY MUTANT BESTIE DESERVES ALL THE SAME RIGHTS I DO

Along with some hearts. Who did not like hearts?

She nodded in return to Mari's nod. It was strange the vibes that she was getting from Mari when they talked about Jude. She definitely didn't seem happy or excited about it - she didn't even really seem to want to meet him. It was strange but like her, she dropped it. There was no reason to continue the conversation, anyways.

She gave a weak smile and shrugged slightly, "Okay, okay... I mean, I guess so. I hope so, anyways."

She nodded as she listened to Marisol's response, "Yeah, that makes more sense. Mutants Rights are Human Rights. That sounds a lot better, anyways." She began to write in different colors what would be on her poster - thankfully, Marisol was there to help her figure out what she was going to put on her poster. Surprisingly, despite all the involvement she had, she struggled a little bit with figuring out cool, catchy phrases that other people seemed to have a knack for.

She leaned over and looked at Marisol's poster as she was writing and she gave a huge grin and a small giggle, "Aweee... You're the best, Mari. The hearts is really the defining feature." Marisol was the sweetest, awesomest friend ever. "Thank you so much for coming, it means so much to me." 

Marisol was glad to focus on the posters and the impending march. Those things were exciting and brought her and Celeste together, while talking about Celeste’s budding new relationship was only making things tense. Correction: Marisol was making things tense. She had to figure out some way to become okay with the idea of Jude and Celeste, but she needed more time. Until then, it was best to avoid the touchy topic.

The sign, slogan, and accompanying hearts Marisol drew up were a big hit with her friend. The way she smiled and giggled in appreciation warmed Marisol’s heart on a cool Autumn day. ”Of course I’m here. I support the cause, and just as important, it’s my favorite person’s big day,” she replied, her smile wide beneath her rosy cheeks.

The two young women put the finishing touches on their signs, finished up their lunches, and joined up with the other organizers of the event. It was hard to spot them initially because an impressive crowd was already gathering. There was a buzz in the air unlike anything Marisol knew before. She had been on stage, performing for large, engaged crowds, but it was different than being in the thick of the masses, all ready to be part of something.

Along with Celeste and the rest of the organizers, Marisol stayed toward the front of the march. She disliked taking such a prominent position in a rally that was not for her benefit, but it was practical. If Marisol was in the center of the group, she had a greater chance of nullifying more mutant powers. She was also thankful to stick with Celeste because being along and surrounded by strangers more or less constituted her own personal hell.

”So we’re marching to City Hall, right?” Marisol asked her friend, who she was staying as close to as possible without actively hugging her, (as nice as the thought might be.)

Celeste was glad the subject moved on, especially considering how weird Marisol acted about it. She just hoped it wouldn't put a wedge in their friendship, at least she really hoped it wouldn't. 

She smiled and nodded, "Good... You don't know how much it means to me." She grabbed Marisol's hand and squeezed it. Once they had their signs, finished their food, and a couple hours later it was time to meet up with the rest of the organizers. Celeste had already talked to them about Marisol's adapted abilities - and agreed that adapteds were just as a minority as mutants that needed protection and equal rights. Governments would use them for bad, too. Probably, anyways. Celeste had been more nervous about Marisol, Booker, adapteds, and mutants ever since the freaky incident with the blonde woman Mari ran into the bathroom. Maybe that was even part of the reason she had gotten so involved?

Celeste introduced Marisol to the organizers and despite Mari's usual awkward stumbling, they all seemed to find each other friendly. That was good, so good. After all, these people were probably going to be Celeste's friends for a long time. Marisol was practically on top of her, but Celeste was okay with that. She wanted her to feel safe, especially considering it was a huge social risk and potentially dangerous with her adapted abilities... Which, speaking of which, about 12 people in the front.

A man came over towards the organizers and gave them a big grin, almost like he wanted to ask questions. He lifted his arms up when he was close and what we can only presume is try to use his power but he ended up screaming, "What the f**k?! Why isn't my powers working? What the h*ll is this?!" His rage began to intensify as Celeste's eyes widened. Oh no.