Honestly, it wasn't her fault. Well, maybe a little her fault, but she grew up without a letter sounding like "J" and had done just fine without it. But, when trying to explain to the cabbie where she was trying to go, things had gotten, well, mixed up. Temple Jerusalem, Masonic Temple... whatever (at least in the cabbie's mind). So she was now on a street corner, and very lost. She was supposed to meet a friend of her uncle there. Her phone still wasn't working, so calling for help, or just trying her best to look up the correct address wasn't an easy option. 

She tried asking the locals, or at least people she thought might be local. They all seemed way too busy to even listen, much less help. She finally tried to flag down a cab to return to the school, but even that had become a disaster when she'd finally gotten one to slow down, only to have some pushy guy jump in and steal it. The bright lights of the local shows brought her no comfort. It only meant she'd managed to get lost in one of the busiest parts of the city. 

So, there she stood, angry and confused, and, though she was loath to admit it, a little scared too. All of this fussing about had taken quite a bit of time too. The one thing her stupid phone was still good for was keeping time. She'd long since missed the beginning of service, and coming in late was frowned upon. At this point however, she wasn't even sure what direction the school was in, lost in this man-made canyon of buildings. So taking the subway or even walking home wasn't much of an option. 

Mad now at herself, Rivka angrily wiped away a tear, determined to pull herself together and figure this out! Somehow... She pulled her jacket tighter around slight frame as she began to shiver. Living somewhere that was (from her point of view) both cold and humid was not improving her outlook on the day either. One thing she definitely decided though. When she got back to the school, she was going to make a beeline to the nearest store, and get a phone that worked in the US! Her miser father could simply deal with it when he got the credit card bill! 


Marisol Cervantes

Now that the seasons were starting to change, Marisol was really being reminded of her west coast upbringing. New York went from warm summer days to chilly fall much faster than she expected. It was time to start dressing in layers and she was working on adjusting to that.

To her credit, she did bring a sweatshirt when she left her place in the morning. It was Skye’s, which was most of the reason she thought to take it with her. Under the zip-up hoodie, she was wearing her ballet leotard and opaque black leggings. She was only needed for the morning rehearsal, which left the rest of her day open!

Open for homework. Yaaaaaaaay.

With a dance-focused rehearsal, she had not grabbed street clothes to change into, so she was keen on getting home quickly. From there, she could dive into homework and possibly convince Skye to keep her company while she worked. It was nice to have that option in her back pocket. Well, her metaphorical back pocket given her outfit.

Over the course of her time in New York, the city slowly became less intimidating. The crowds could still overwhelm Mari, but she managed that better now. She could walk with the masses. She was slowly becoming an expert of the subway; at least, the trains she took often. She was no longer the panicking, stunned girl who moved to the city a year earlier.

The day was like any other, with Marisol minding her own business and walking toward the nearest subway stop. Her attention was caught by a girl trying and failing to summon a taxi. Or pedestrian assistance. Or seemingly any help at all. Her expression was wracked with frustration. It was a feeling Marisol remembered all to well.

She also remembered Alice helping her after they quite literally bumped into each other. Alice might have saved her from a full-on breakdown. Maybe this girl could use the same. (Minus the collision, obviously.)

Marisol walked up to the girl cautiously, unknowingly moving her within her six-foot adapted aura. ”Sorry, but is everything alright?”

Rivka was so frustrated and frightened she was shaking when a young woman, looking a little older than herself, approached. A funny feeling came over her, sort of like what she imagined a drink might feel like when someone drank it with a straw. Lovely...she must be getting sick too. Rivka could remember the same feeling just before she'd gotten sick two years before. While the reason was actually the same, the fact that she'd been coming down with a cold then had nothing to do with it. But she was quite unaware that the two things were not, in fact, related. 

Shaking her head, she said "No, no okay. Look for Temple Yerushalayim" she replied, trying to give some indication of looking for something big with her hand gestures. She had no idea that she wasn't even close to it, and she was talking too fast to be easy to understand, wound up as she was. She looked at her useless phone again, then said "Service done" and her whole demeanor fell further in defeat, if that was possible. She continued, shaking her head to indicate she'd given up on that, and forced herself to slow down so she'd have a hope of being understood.

"Need go home, Za-ve-err School Gift" she told this helpful person, slowly and carefully. "Phone, no work United States" she explained, giving the hapless iPhone a frustrated shake. "Is edge park built?" she added, hoping that would help, since the school was built right on the edge of a park, but unfortunately she didn't know the name of it. 

Please Adonai, let her have heard of the school she prayed silently. From her accent, she was clearly not from around here, though that was hardly unusual in New York with its millions of visitors each year. 


Marisol Cervantes

It took Marisol a few seconds to follow along with the younger woman’s explanation. English might not be her first language, which was not a problem, it just required a patient ear. She was looking for a temple, which was unfortunately unfamiliar with the west coast transplant. The look of defeat the girl had when she gestured to her useless phone tugged at Marisol’s heartstrings.

Thankfully, the girl’s home was a place Marisol was very familiar with. Considering her uncle, cousin, and girlfriend all lived at the Mansion, Marisol became an expert in navigating her way north to the school. “Xavier’s. I know where the Xavier’s School. There is a park area surrounding it. It’s not super close, but I know where there’s a subway that’ll get us near there.”

It was not exactly her original plan, but she considered dropping by the mansion anyway. Maybe helping a lost student find her way back was a sign to amend her plan after all. Marisol smiled. ”Well, you’re in luck. If you’re comfortable with the idea, I can go with you to make sure you get there safely. I know New York can be stressful when you’re new to it. Does that sound okay to you?” She did not speak slowly, but she did try to speak clearly, unsure of the girl’s familiarity with English. Marisol was still a stranger, so she did not want to force the girl into a situation she might not feel safe with.

It might help if she took some step to become less of a stranger. ”I’m Marisol, by the way.”

"Yes! Yes please very much!" Rivka replied, touching her arm. It was a gesture of gratitude, and she wanted to cry that a stranger would go out of their way like this. Especially since most of the strangers around here didn't seem like they'd look up if she got run over by a car. She was good at buses and taxis for the most part, but hadn't a clue about New York's extensive subway system. Tel Aviv had the previous two, but subways... not so much. 

"Am Rivka" she introduced herself, placing a hand on her chest to make sure that Marisol understood she was giving her name since it didn't seem to be common in America. "Rivka Katzin. Father, he work your Washington" she explained, to help clarify why she'd come to New York in the first place. The city seemed to gather strays from what she'd seen, but she'd been brought here under parental direction. Given a choice, she'd wished her father had stayed home in Israel, but his work was here and he'd been specific that it was an excellent career move. So, off they'd went! 

"Am new school. Was best father find when move here. So made student at school, visit father sometimes Shabbat" she told her new companion conversationally as she let Marisol lead the way to the subway station. 


ooc: feel free to move them onto a train or whatever

Being touched was something Marisol was used to with her line of study. Dancing was a physical activity, so instructors and fellow dancers were prone to getting in Marisol’s personal space. It was still surprising when this came from strangers, particularly in New York. The city was not soft and affectionate, but this young woman was clearly not a product of the cold city.

The name was a unique one, as she might have expected. ”Rivka,” she repeated aloud, smiling. ”I like that. Well, for however long your dad’s work keeps you here, welcome to New York, Rivka.”

After getting through the turnstiles, Marisol led the way through the subway platform onto the train she knew would take them on the path to the Mansion. ”Your dad did a good job. My uncle works at Xavier’s, so I know it’s great.”

With the seats all occupied, Marisol found a pole and held onto it as the doors closed and the train jerked into motion. The sound of the train covered up their conversation, letting Marisol lean in to ask a question while being cautious of eavesdroppers. ”So if you’re at Xavier’s, am I right in guessing you’re a mutant?” She wanted to be careful asking; it was nearly a given for students at the Mansion, but she did not want to out the girl to a train full of strangers.