Celeste followed Marisol and gave her as much encouragement as possible. If Marisol was nervous around people, she would need the extra push to get through her training. And Celeste was actually pretty good with socializing - it usually came pretty easy for her.

>> ”Hi, I’m Marisol and I’ll be your waitress. I’m still in training and this is my trainer, Celeste.

So far so good - that was good. 

>> She’s right beside me.”

Oh no. That was one of those things that the customers might latch onto. Celeste cleared her throat in a general motion to draw the attention away. It could be that the gentlemen just found it endearing - which was fine. But she wasn't going to have two jack*sses hurt Marisol's feelings just because she was new, training, and a bit on the socially awkward side of things. The least thing Marisol needed was to feel like she wasn't doing a good job. And for her first time, she was.

>> ”So, yeah. What are your drinks and how is your day?”

Celeste smiled. It was honestly refreshing to see someone so nice and awkward - Marisol didn't seem like a fake person like a lot of the people who worked at the diner. The guys rolled with it and that made Celeste content. Her primary duty was to stand and look pretty and be an encouragement to Marisol.

>> ”We have those?” 

Um... Well, at least they thought it was funny. Maybe Celeste should have had her review the menu some before setting her out on her own. That would be the next thing they went over as soon as they brought the guys their drinks back. Yikes...

>> ”Why am I allowed out around people again?”

Celeste chuckled and, jokingly teased her, "I mean, you did accept a job as a waitress." Her face became a bit serious but she had a warm smile, "You did a good job, especially for your first time. Don't beat yourself up over the little stuff. Really." She gave her a pat on the back as they reached the kitchen line to put in the guys order. 

"Once we deliver their drinks, we're going to have you study the menu some. Try to ask how their day is and then ask for their order. Pleasantries first, order second." She smiled. There was no reason to mention the rest of her little blunders. That was the important thing and Celeste was sure Marisol understood the rest. 

Marisol was being hard on herself, but Celeste kept her from going too far with her self-critique. It was not the smoothest interaction, but Marisol officially survived her first customer conversation. The men even chuckled, which was better than mocking or yelling. Her face scrunched up into a smile when Celeste gave her a congratulatory pat. ”Gotcha. Pleasantries first, then down to business.”

From there, the shift started to feel easier. She had to get the jitters out, but her next visit to the booth went better and she dropped off drinks without incident. While Celeste addressed two of her own tables, Marisol had time to check the menu and familiarize herself with some of the substitution option and notable items. Day one was going better than expected!

A new guest was walked to a table and Marisol’s perked up, looking over her menu at the young man awaiting service. The businessmen were already eating their lunch, so it seemed like Marisol should look for a new opportunity to adjust to her new position. ”Hey, Celeste?” she asked once the blonde returned from her customers. ”I think I’m gonna try taking the new table, if that’s okay.”

The two waitresses approached the table to find a young man no younger than Marisol, but no older than Celeste. He looked up from his menu at the girls and smiled. Smiling was a good start, Marisol was pretty sure.

”Hello,” she started, trying to emulate Celeste’s energy levels. ”My name is Marisol and this is Celeste. She’s training me. How are you doing today, sir?” Perfect!

“Me? I’m better now that you’re here,” he replied with a grin.

The response perplexed Marisol; she was certain the young man was not waiting very long for service. She watched him get to his table less than a minute earlier. She worried he might be irrationally impatient, but she had to make an effort to work through that. ”Well, I’m sorry if you were kept waiting, but I’m here now and ready to serve!”

“I like the sound of that.” Something about the way he smiled caused goosebumps on Marisol’s arms.

”Yes… well… what can I get you to drink, sir?”

She took the guy’s order for a lemon-lime soda and quickly replied, ”Perfect. Good. I’ll… go get that for you and be right back!”

“Can’t wait,” he replied smoothly as the girls walked toward the drink station.

Marisol glanced over her shoulder, trying not to make the action obvious. ”He’s… is he upset about something? Or does he appreciate my service? I can’t figure this guy out,” she said, oblivious to the intentions of her newest customer.

>> ”Gotcha. Pleasantries first, then down to business.”

She nodded, "And uh... If you're not sure if we have something, just ask one of the other waitresses." Hopefully, Marisol wouldn't catch on that it was a delayed critique of her initial 'do we even have that?' comment. But the businessmen seemed to have taken it well - it didn't seem like they were out to be mean or anything. After checking in on a few of her tables, she returned to Marisol. She had arrived back just as a young guy entered into the diner. Kinda weird for a person as young as him to randomly come to the diner, but hey, whatever strikes your fancy.

>> ”I think I’m gonna try taking the new table, if that’s okay.”

Celeste, "Right behind you." She gave an encouraging smile - that's exactly what Marisol needed - taking initiative. She was already better than half of the employees here, even with her little social awkwardness. 

>> “Me? I’m better now that you’re here,” 

Celeste immediately knew what was going on - it had happened to her plenty of times. She also rolled her eyes. Thankfully, the guy didn't see her eye rolling. Celeste folded her arms. She didn't want Marisol to be offended, or worse, hurt by this guy. But at the same time, Marisol would probably need to get use to it happening to her, too - she was a beautiful, young lady. Men, especially younger ones, didn't know how to not be creeps it seemed. And honestly, women too.

>> ”He’s… is he upset about something? Or does he appreciate my service? I can’t figure this guy out,”

Celeste smiled and motioned for her to follow her to the training room. She wasn't going to have this talk out in front of customers, mainly because it could cause some issues. Especially if that guy overhears us. Once they were back in the training room, Celeste took a breath and gave Marisol a smile, "No, he's not mad. He just wants inside your pants. He's flirting with you." That may have been okay to her or the other waitresses, but it was just rude to do it to a brand new waitress who was as young and innocent as Marisol was. Celeste peeked and shut the door to the training room. "So, there's a couple ways you can play it. If he gets creepy, tell him he needs to back off. Carefully and respectfully. If he doesn't, I'm going to take over the table and you're not going near him." Celeste was going full on protect her little noob waitress. "Or you can tell him you have a boyfriend. I would say girlfriend, but he'd probably be into that..." She kinda muttered the last bit, sighing. Barb wouldn't get upset if they were a bit mean to a nasty customer. "Alternatively, you can play him. Flirt back. Usually, you can get better tips that way." She shrugged, "but I'm not sure if that's a good route for you." Marisol didn't seem like she'd be too great at flirting back with the customer. 

It was helpful having Celeste around as a resource in situation that were still new to Marisol. Her guest was acting weird, and she needed to know if it was something she did. The actual answer was much more distressing.

>> "No, he's not mad. He just wants inside your pants. He's flirting with you."

Some of the color flushed from Marisol’s face. Celeste seemed to think the guy they were serving was flirting with her, which made it easier to see why Marisol was so lost. Since puberty and the advent of flirting in her life, Marisol learned she was entirely oblivious to the whole social game. People flirted with her, but she usually just felt uncomfortable about forward, complicated comments from people she did not know. The practice seemed oddly intrusive, and she failed to realize she might have to deal with it at work. ”He isn’t! Is he? He is,” she groaned in realization. ”Crap.”

Fortunately, Celeste seemed to have experience with flirty customers and even had a list of ways to handle them. Plan one sounded like a winner: tell him to back off. Apparently, she was supposed to find a way to respectfully do that, which might be slightly more difficult.

Celeste mentioned she could claim to have a boyfriend or girlfriend, but Marisol almost winced at the idea. She did not want to tell someone she was just getting to know that she had no clue what it was like to have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. She did not want to just say she was immune to love, flirting, and romance because she did not want Celeste telling her, “it will happen eventually,” like her old friend once said. Plan two was out.

Plan three was so out, Marisol nearly laughed. ”Yeah, there will be no flirting back. I’m… not a flirter. I’m bad at flirting. My flirt game is nonexistent.”

Marisol had a better idea of what she was dealing with, so she would handle herself with grace and composure. ”Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.” She led her friend back to the table with a clear plastic glass filled with soda and ice.

The young man was already watching Marisol’s return, brushing his medium-length brown hair from his face. He was aesthetically pleasant. Marisol knew that, and could see how girls her age would be interested in that, but she hit the same wall she always did. He could have ripped off his shirt and had a six-pack and all she would wonder was why he felt the need to take his shirt off in a restaurant.

Placing the soda in front of him carefully, Marisol pulled out her notepad and tried to force a smile. ”There you go, sir. Sorry about the wait. Did you see anything you liked?”

“Oh, I definitely—”

”On the menu, I mean!” she amended hastily.

The customer arched his eyebrow, watching Marisol with a devilish grin. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? It’s all about service with a smile, right?”

”I… um…” Marisol turned back to Celeste with panicked eyes, spacing out on the plan she decided upon not two minutes earlier.

>> ”He isn’t! Is he? He is, Crap"

Awe. Poor, sweet, young, naive little Marisol. Even Celeste had some experience with flirty customers - of course, she sometimes herself was flirty with people. It looked like the poor girl did not really pick up on the whole flirt-love game. There wasn't any problem with that, either. It was probably better - Marisol was probably still in high school, maybe 16 or 17? 

In any case, she nodded, "Yes. He is." Celeste would've probably just ignored it but she was kinda numb to those kind of things by this point - the misogyny was pretty common place. People didn't have respect and honestly, there wasn't a point in fighting people sometimes. Choose your battles wisely or whatever. 

>>”Yeah, there will be no flirting back. I’m… not a flirter. I’m bad at flirting. My flirt game is nonexistent. Okay, I'm ready. Let's go."
 
Celeste laughed and nodded, not really surprised. Based off Marisol's current reactions, she probably wasn't the most flirty person. It was good, though. Innocence and stuff or whatever. 

And with that, they were back off to the man. He wasn't ugly, which was good, but poor Marisol didn't seem in the slightest interested. Celeste was already annoyed at the smooth talking he was trying to do. But, she knew what kinda game he was playing. It wasn't like he was some cute guy wanting to take her out on a date - he just wanted a Kindlr styled hook up. It wasn't the time or place for that kind of talk - especially to a new employee.

>> ”There you go, sir. Sorry about the wait. Did you see anything you liked?”

>> "Oh, I definitely--"

>> ”On the menu, I mean!” 

>> “What’s wrong, sweetheart? It’s all about service with a smile, right?”

Oh, no, oh no, oh no.

>> "I… um…”

She patted Marisol on the shoulder and motioned for her to leave before she took her pad out and gave the gentleman a smile, "Hi, I'm Celeste, Marisol's trainer. Marisol is in high school and this is her first job here, she's a bit nervous." She made clearly to emphasize high school. She gave another smile, "You know, I believe she's about 15. Did you hear about that 15 year old girl near NYU? A 20 year old ended up getting charged with statutory rape because her. Dang shame." She smiled, "What would you like to order? We have a couple specials," she pointed them out on the menu. 

He seemed to calm down after her little story, ordering a basic BLT with some mayonnaise on the side. 

Maybe she was a little harsh on the guy, but he was being a perv. He had no excuse to be doing that, especially to a new waitress. Of course, she wasn't even sure if Marisol had left or not and she turned out to go put the order in. 

Marisol was frozen because she knew there were social cues involved with flirting and even rejecting flirtations advances, but she had no clue what they were. In lieu of her own answers, she meekly deferred to Celeste, hoping her new friend was willing to save her.

She stepped back as Celeste took center stage with a smile, letting her would-be suitor know that she was a high schooler. Apparently, she was also fifteen, which was untrue, not that Marisol was about to speak up. Celeste was confident and forceful, all while keeping a sweet expression. It was so impressive, Marisol almost missed how quickly and effortlessly she switched to asking about the guy’s order. Suddenly, he seemed to have no desire to cause trouble, clearly embarrassed as he ordered his sandwich.

Celeste went back to the kitchen to drop off the new order, and Marisol took the opportunity to check on her first table. Both men were still enjoying their food, but were not ready for the check. Marisol smiled and politely excused herself, fine with a small break until they were ready to leave.

Returning to her trainer, Marisol sighed. ”Celeste, thank you. So much. I get awkward when people are flirting with me.” She paused before adding, ”Well, more awkward.”

Marisol placed a hand on Celeste’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. ”I think I’m gonna be really glad I get to work with you. And for the record, I’m sixteen.” She smirked, clearly just making a light-hearted point. ”Very soon to be seventeen.”

Celeste wasn't ready to take crap today. She felt pretty protective of her little trainee, future independent waitress. After she dropped the order off, she dropped by Barb's office to let her know what happened in case the guy complained or did some stupid sh*t. Barb nodded and returned to doing her managerial duties.

With that, Celeste moved back to her little spot on the wall, and leaned against it, waiting for Marisol to come up to. She had went to check on the businessmen's table. Celeste smiled - it looked like it went well. The guys seemed happy and Marisol seemed content and not stressed.

>>”Celeste, thank you. So much. I get awkward when people are flirting with me. Well, more awkward.”

Celeste gave a big grin to Marisol. At least she didn't seem upset or anything for being shamelessly flirted with, "Are you okay? Sorry that your second table had to be such a perv." She sighed, "Most of the time, they're not like that. But you're a pretty girl, so I'd recommend just thinking of something to say when they actually do do that." 

>>   ”I think I’m gonna be really glad I get to work with you. And for the record, I’m sixteen.”

She nudged the girl with her shoulder, "I told you I'd watch out for you." She gave her a smile and playfully rolled her eyes, "Alright, Miss Grown Up, excuse me." She was, of course, joking. 

Celeste was protective of her and Marisol did not mind. She was in a new city, starting her life fresh with no one but her uncle and his family to rely on. It was nice to know someone else might have her back; Celeste was starting to seem like she could fit that bill. ”I’m okay, really. I just don’t have a lot of experience with people flirting with me,” she admitted. It was not a complaint; people did not flirt with Marisol because they did not get the sense she was welcoming. (With rare, oblivious exceptions like her customer.)

There was a compliment in Celeste’s comments, so Marisol wanted to be polite. ”And thank you for saying I’m pretty. I guess you must have a lot of guests like that, too?” Celeste was objectively pretty with her blonde hair, nice face, and lithe build. If people were going to flirt with Marisol, she had to believe Celeste had her own suitors as well.

Marisol giggled upon being called “Miss Grown Up,” rolling her eyes. ”What! I just don’t want you to think I’m some kid. I’ll be in college too, soon enough.” Not that Marisol was in a rush. She still had so much to learn at her high school before she could consider a future at Juliard or the Conservatory.

”Speak of, you know so much more about me at this point,” she pointed out matter-of-factly. ”I’m the dance girl, drama nerd, socially oblivious chick. What about you? Do you have any big plans for college?” Most people did not have the set-in-stone career goals Marisol had, dreaming of being one thing since they were children. Marisol was curious what kind of path a woman like Celeste would take as she grew up and left her part-time waitressing job behind her.

>> ”I’m okay, really. I just don’t have a lot of experience with people flirting with me,”

Celeste chuckled and nodded, "No worries, just the nerve of some people is just ridiculous. It looks like the business guys went well when you went to check on them, did it?" It looked like it did - but she did need to check with Marisol to make sure it went fine. The little old ladies looked like they were about done. She checked her watch - it had been a while since their shift started. It was a pretty slow day, too, so it was a good day for Marisol to start.

>> "And thank you for saying I’m pretty. I guess you must have a lot of guests like that, too?” 

She grinned and shrugged a little, "It comes with the territory. Plus, I think these 50's outfits make some people think they're actually living in the 50's," she shook her head. She grinned, and semi-jokingly told Marisol, "I mean, if they look rich, it doesn't hurt to flirt a little back. Nice tips!" I mean, a girl had to eat and if that meant stroking an ego just a little bit she was willing to deal with it.

>> ”Speak of, you know so much more about me at this point, ”I’m the dance girl, drama nerd, socially oblivious chick. What about you? Do you have any big plans for college?” 

She looked at Marisol with an arched brow. She did kinda know more about Marisol than Marisol knew about her. Mainly, it was part of their respective roles - she was the teacher and Marisol was the student. Celeste had to learn more about Marisol to make her more welcome and to help her train in a way she could relate too.

Celeste paused for a moment, deep in thought, before chuckling a little: "I have no idea. I thought, back in Regina, where I'm originally from, I was going to be a radiologist. But ever since I got here a few months ago, I don't think that's what I'm supposed to do... I don't know." She shrugged again, unsure, "But, either way, I'm going to New York University in January, so I'm super excited to get started. Maybe I'll land some awesome internships or something while I'm there too to help me figure it out."

They were having fun, but Celeste was still responsible for her younger charge’s tables, so she made sure to ask about the gentlemen at her first table. Marisol nodded, smiling proudly. ”They’re doing fine. Just finishing up with some chatting over the last of their food, it looks like. I even asked if they wanted dessert!” It had been a genius move not at all inspired by Marisol eyeing the pies behind the glass case under the counter.

The idea was once again floated that flirting back with customers could warrant more tips. Marisol could see the logic; if she felt she had a flirtatious bone in her body, she would gladly give it a shot. New York had plenty of exciting possibilities she could open up with some more pocket money. Sadly, she knew herself well enough to know any attempts at flirting would seem awkward and forced. ”Well, a girl’s gotta make her money,” she replied with a chuckle.

They were having conversation and Marisol was still surprised at how easy it was to talk to Celeste. She was still her usual level of awkward, but the blonde was rolling with it and making things less awkward because of that.

Celeste considered Marisol’s question of her future for a moment, but much to the younger woman’s surprise, Celeste was still undecided. She sounded like the uncertainty did not phase her, which Marisol thought was impressive. If she woke up and was told she could no longer be a performer, she would probably burst into sobbing tears, unsure of where to go next. There was a reason Marisol was overly-cautious in most physical activities.

It was nice to hear Celeste’s optimism. Marisol did not know a lot about the girl yet, but she was confident Celeste would find her way and do something wonderful. ”College is for discovering ourselves, right? I’m sure whatever you do, it’ll be great.” It was easy to say because it was what she genuinely believed.

Even with Celeste’s college path still in limbo, there was still something Marisol was curious about. ”So… why almost radiology? Not that I’m judging. It just seems oddly specific.” Didn’t most people who wanted to pursue medicine choose a specific field further down the line?

>>”They’re doing fine. Just finishing up with some chatting over the last of their food, it looks like. I even asked if they wanted dessert!”

Celeste smiled proudly. Marisol was going to be a great waitress, awkward or not. She was already getting the hang of it pretty quickly and so long as she didn't panic with any other customers, she should be fine. "Asking for desert was an amazing idea, good job! I don't think I ever even told you to do that." In fact, the customers say no so much that Celeste usually forgets to even ask them if they want a desert now. Barb isn't too happy with it - she doesn't think Celeste is 'upselling' enough. 

Celeste gave Marisol a warm smile as she watched some people walk in front of the diner but then chose to go somewhere else. Dang, it was a really slow day... Which was nice. Her and Marisol were able to actually talk. Maybe she actually found a friend here? Someone she could actually become good friends with? Of course, someone that was at least around her age. She considered Booker a close friend, even though they didn't know each other much or even know each other outside of the library. It was really nice to be talking to someone about some of the stuff that was on Celeste's mind lately.

>>”College is for discovering ourselves, right? I’m sure whatever you do, it’ll be great.”

Celeste smiled and nodded. She could tell the girl was being sincere. Celeste hoped she was right! "Thanks, I hope so!" Celeste was a bit of an overachiever, mainly trying to make up her 'mistake' of being a mutant to them. It wasn't something she was too concerned about anymore - she still had a competitive edge in her, and still wanted to succeed, but not nearly as much as before. 

>> ”So… why almost radiology? Not that I’m judging. It just seems oddly specific.” 

She looked over to Marisol, debating on if she should really tell her the truth or not. She didn't really seem like the type to be against mutants, but she might freak if she told her she had a ton of radiation inside her. Was it something she was willing to out about herself already in their friendship? There really wasn't a point in hiding it. She'd just hear it from the kitchen crew in a week or so, anyways. She sighed and gave a little shrug. She looked away and she talked lowly, "Yeah, I'm a mutant. Radiation mutation, so I can release & absorb radiation. So I figured I could use my powers to help reduce radiation exposure and stuff if I went into radiology. But.. Uh... Yeah, I don't know if that's really what I want to do." She took a quick glance towards Marisol, to gauge her reaction to her confession. Hopefully Marisol wouldn't care. Celeste really hoped she wouldn't care. Ugh.

Marisol was expecting one of the typical answers for why someone might be interested in a certain field or career. It was possible Celeste’s parents were radiologists or she could have a fascination with medical diagnosing. What she was not expecting was the candid confession that her new friend was, in fact, a mutant.

Celeste looked away when she came out as a mutant to Marisol, so she missed the initial wide-eyed surprise. Marisol was not bothered or frightened, but she was caught off guard. Mutants were more common over time, but they were still a huge minority so it was unexpected when she came across one. Then again, as an Adapted, Marisol should have known a thing or two about being a dramatic minority.

The initial shock passed and was replaced by a warm feeling reflected in an equally warm smile. Celeste could have made up an answer to the question, but she chose to tell Marisol the truth. In the short time they knew one another, the Californian had done enough to earn the kind of trust that allowed someone to share themselves. Some people still had bigoted beliefs toward mutants, and as a radioactive mutant, plenty of people probably looked at Celeste with fear or mistrust.

Fortunately, when Celeste glanced up, the look Marisol met her with standing at her side was anything but fear. It was more forward than Marisol would usually be, but she slipped her arm around Celeste’s shoulder, giving her a half-hug. ”It’s really cool that you wanted to do something good for people with your powers,” she said, keeping her voice low so customers would not overhear. ”But I’m sure you’ll find a way to do that with or without them.”

Knowing Celeste was a mutant dredged up pieces of their earlier conversation. Celeste was in high school, but she never clarified, so she enthusiastically asked, ”Are you at Xavier’s? My uncle is a Swim Teacher there.” Maybe it was rude to assume she went to Xavier’s because she was a mutant, but the question was out there, so there was no taking it back.

Marisol wondered what kind of changes it would make to everyday life to have a radiation mutation, but that prompted her to realize: Celeste was a mutant, but she had yet to make a comment about Marisol herself. ”Hey, just curious… have you tried to use your powers at all? Or maybe, I dunno, are there any usual side-effects that just… aren’t?”

Celeste was nervous about telling Marisol - after all, they had only known each other for a little while. It wasn't like they were really even friends yet. They seemed to have had a good connection, despite Celeste's fairly outgoing personality and Marisol's more awkward social ways. In a way, she was happy she felt comfortable enough with Marisol to just go ahead and tell her the truth. At the same time, it terrified her because she may have just ruined a friendship. It was always a nervous moment 'coming out' to people about her powers. 

When Celeste looked back to Marisol to see a warm smile, Celeste knew she had made the right choice. What a gamble, but it paid off. That was the biggest thing she really hid from people, at least that was important. She remembered when she told Booker, which she was super nervous about. They had made a small dare to each other to share a secret with each other. She was a mutant and he was an adapted. Celeste had read a little more into the AMA about them since then.

>>  ”It’s really cool that you wanted to do something good for people with your powers, But I’m sure you’ll find a way to do that with or without them.”

Celeste leaned into Marisol's half hug. She let out a relatively loud sigh of relief. She gave a smile towards Marisol. That was sweet of her to say, and especially to be careful not to say it loud enough for customers to hear. "Thanks... Just remember me when you're on Broadway." She gave Marisol a wink and a small chuckle. She had a serious face on though - if Marisol was as good as she seemed to be, there was no doubt in Celeste's mind that she would reach her dreams.

>> ”Are you at Xavier’s? My uncle is a Swim Teacher there.”

She nodded, "I am, actually." She took a look at Marisol's face before her eyes going wide, "Mr. Cervantes?" She actually wasn't taking a class with him, mainly because she didn't even know how to swim. But she had heard of him and seen pictures in the school. She actually kinda looked like him, at least from the pictures she'd seen of Mr. Cervantes. "That's so awesome, we may be seeing more of each other outside of work then!"

>> ”Hey, just curious… have you tried to use your powers at all? Or maybe, I du...

Beep! Beep! Beep! Her watch alarm was going off. She quickly reached over and turned it off. She was surprised it went off - that meant it had been 6 hours since her last nausea medicine. 

>> ...no, are there any usual side-effects that just… aren’t?”

Huh, now that she mentioned it, yes. She wasn't nauseous. She was going on 6 hours with no meds to help cover the nausea up and she felt nothing. She usually needed it around 5 hours, but she always kept an alarm on every 6 hours just in case. There was occasionally some variations in her nausea. That only meant a couple things - an adapted was nearby or she was dying. She nodded, "Well, actually, coincidentally, yeah... I usually am nauseated, so I take some prescription medicine that makes it go away. But... I haven't been nauseated at all..." Celeste was still debating the reasons, her mind not clicking that Marisol was an adapted. 

Not only did Celeste go to Xavier’s, she knew Marisol’s uncle by name. It was fun to know that, even amidst such a large city, the world could still be so small at times. ”Yup, that’s my Tío!” she replied proudly. ”I try to visit the Mansion at least one a week for dinner and to check in. Mi madre is still in Long Beach, so I promised I would be good and report in.” She loved visiting her uncle anyway, so it was not a chore and it gave her mother peace of mind.

In the middle of their conversation, Celeste’s watch started beeping. They both watched as the alarm, along with Marisol’s question, seemed to prompt a revelation for Celeste. Her mutation made her feel nauseated, (which made Marisol furrow her brow because it sounded like an awful side-effect,) but she was conspicuously nausea-free.

Marisol figured there would be some tip-off of her own unique power, but she was beaming when she realized how unintentionally useful she had been. ”Well… I think you have me to thank for that,” she said through a Cheshire grin. ”Considering I’ve kinda been shutting off your powers all day.”

It was rare for Marisol to even have the opportunity to share that special quality of herself. To most people, she was a plain, non-descript human. Her powers only became relevant when meeting mutants, and her few interactions had been positive thus far. Of course, there was always the possibility that a mutant could get upset or offended by an Adapted’s ability to give them an “off switch,” but she had to hope Celeste would not freak out like that.

Oh God, she really hoped Celeste did not freak out like that. Marisol’s broad smile became more nervous as she continued to explain, ”I’m not sure how much, if anything, you know about us, but I’m an Adapted. I have a mutation-negating bubble at all times.” She paused, before quickly adding, ”And I really hope that doesn’t bother you.”

>> ”Yup, that’s my Tío! I try to visit the Mansion at least one a week for dinner and to check in. Mi madre is still in Long Beach, so I promised I would be good and report in.”

She grinned big. Wow, what a crazy world they lived in. Despite her originally living in California, Celeste in Canada, they both ended up in New York City, working at the Wallflower Diner. Celeste went to school at the school that her uncle was a teacher at. Just wow. It was crazy how destiny worked. She had only heard of good things through the grapevines of the school about him, but she had never met him. Of course, she hadn't really met anyone else at the Mansion either, besides Gawain & Juliette. They seemed like awesome people but she hadn't really gotten to know them - she couldn't really say they were friends yet.

>> ”Well… I think you have me to thank for that, Considering I’ve kinda been shutting off your powers all day.”

Celeste arched a brow and looked over to Marisol. What did she mean, shutting her powers off all day? She watched as Marisol's face happy, enthusiastic face slowly became a very nervous face. It still hadn't registered in Celeste's mind what she had meant, which led to a confused face on Celeste's part. 

>> ”I’m not sure how much, if anything, you know about us, but I’m an Adapted. I have a mutation-negating bubble at all times. And I really hope that doesn’t bother you.”

Ohhh! Celeste had a light bulb moment, which her facial expression gave that away pretty easily. She was adapted! That was pretty cool, honestly. She remembered when she had learned that Booker was an adapted - she made sure she wouldn't ask that question of 'how did you find out' to Marisol. That was a pretty touchy question to him and she wasn't going to make that mistake again. But in either case, she needed to reassure Marisol that she didn't care.

She gave a warm smile to Marisol and, this time, put her arm around her shoulders and gave her the half hug. She chuckled quietly, "That's pretty awesome, actually. I have one friend, he works at the library, who is adapted. So I kinda know about adapteds. I think it's a pretty cool ability, honestly. It's powerful - just be within so many feet and pow. Powers off. It's nifty, and a good safety feature built in." Her voice was quiet, though, mainly to make sure the customers or the kitchen people didn't hear. She didn't want them to start any weird rumors about adapted or mutants or whatever. Other than that, Celeste didn't have a problem. Celeste may have cared more about adapted if she had a physical mutation that would go away - which sounded painful. But she didn't - she just lost her radiation, lost her nausea, and she lived to live another day. 

"It doesn't bother me, don't worry, Marisol. Although, it's a good thing you were there with that perv otherwise I may have blasted him if he had said something else. Of course, I didn't have too, but it's nice to know I wouldn't have even been able too, now." She gave her a smile and squeezed her shoulder.