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Munching any remains of the toast in her mouth, Celeste watches the newcomer closely as they stand on the other side of the door. The young man was dressed in robes and seemed to just be staring for several moments before finally reality seemed to ground him back into the present. He was a strange one, surely, but the demigod (mutant) didn’t sense any kind of subterfuge or dishonesty in him. He seemed mostly…pious. The robes reminded her much of the priests who wandered the wealthier halls of Atlantis but he was not Atlantean. He was surface dweller and thus she was not alarmed.

An innocent smile crossed her lips of violets, blacks, and blues. Her teeth, a starling shade of pulsar white gleamed even in the sunlight as she offered the younger man a genuine smile. Quickly she nodded her head as she pulled the door open wider and stepped aside.

”You have found correct place…” Celeste confirms with a nod and then waves him closer with her hand. ”Please. Come.”

This vision of living stars and galaxies steps aside then, now fully in view of Aras. She is a curvaceous young woman, in her early twenties, holding her plate of toast as her pale eyes watch him. It would be now, that she was fully in view, that the planetoids would be noticed. Very small, planet-like spheres of varying colors of blue, green, brown, and white, that circle around her head like a small tiara of planets. Truly she seems to encapsulate the idea of a goddess of space.

Only once Aras is in does she close the door and step back. The inside of the mansion is massive with antique and modern looking decor. A staircase in the foyer leads to the upper levels of the mansion while the doorways and halls on either side of the interior seem to lead deeper into the mansion and provide many unseen paths to take.

After several moments, Celeste speaks up, sneaking in another bite of toast. ”Did you…ummm…apply school here?” she asks. ”Or…show up…looking for place to stay?” She looks at him for a moment before gesturing to herself. ”Not staff. But live here. Can point out staff to you.” She chews her bottom lip and then holds up her plate. ”Hungry? Big kitchen. Many foods.”

Celeste was working on it. She was trying to work past her initial discomfort with compliments to her appearance. Not everyone here on the surface was like the lecherous nobles back in Atlantis. Some people genuinely liked to make others feel better with compliments. And while Celeste was sure that some people liked them, she needed to work back up to understanding that they weren’t all bad. At least Hercules could glean her discomfort and without her having to speak firmly and defend herself. That was definitely a plus in her book.

At his loud laughter concerning his comparison to the actual Adonis, Celeste stared for a few moments before her lips broke into a wide smile. She laughed as well, also realizing the mistake she made. He was right. He was certainly not Adonis. Celeste had heard stories about him and his overwhelming narcissism. While some legends spoke of Hercules having a similar quality, it was never to the length that Adonis embodied.

”In that you are correct. You…nothing like the Adonis I heard.” she says with a nod.

Celeste then turns to get back into her cinnamon roll, it was nearly completed, when she notes that Hercules is looking around. Her head tilted, she is about to inquiry about it but stops when he states that he could not see the store that she worked at. She giggles gently at this. The mall was big and she didn’t work near the food court. Apparently it was bad for the clothes they sold to be too closer to the multitude of smelly food.

She nods her head. ”Yes. I take,” she replies. ”Break almost done. Then we go?”

Celeste often wondered how she was able to trust the X-Men so readily. They were essentially just demigods, the same kind she spent most of her life being leered and gawked at. The same kind of people who flaunted about their importance and used their abilities to manipulate and subjugate anyone that was different. By all rights she should have absolutely hated the X-Men for what they were.

But they were different. They were heroes, like the kind she learned about from scholars and learned men and women of Atlantis. They actively were trying to do good in a world that didn’t appreciate them. And that was something she couldn’t be more grateful for. Yes, they carried the names of demigods, they had done something that no demigod was able, or willing, to do before –-they saved her.

She smiled then, infected by Hercules’ enthusiasm. ”Yes. They are very busy. Find much balance in this world.” There was a little bit of admiration in her agreeing tone, something that hinted almost as jealousy. She was still trying to find her balance. Everyday Celeste got a little closer to it, but it still seemed so far away.

In the end, however, her thoughts clouded from admiration to sadness and a little bit of anger. She explained, simply, what her experience was in Atlantis. That she was more of a ‘possession’ as opposed to an actual person. Celeste was grateful that most people who knew her story on the surface had been appalled by it. It gave her some hope for them. But it still had a way of affecting her and that was…not fair.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she glanced at Hercules and saw the look on his face – almost guilty. Her head tilted in interest, wanting to ask him what was wrong, when he spoke again. Immediately she felt the cosmos blush on her cheeks. She then offered him a sad, but grateful smile.

”I…appreciating…your words…” Celeste replied. ”Am better now,” She admitted before she took another forkful of her cinnamon roll. She smiled then, laughing lightly. ”Yes. Better job. Work at…” Celeste took a couple moments to find the right word. ”...’clothing’ store. Still looked at but other workers nicer. Better than trophy.” The astral mutant nods her head firmly, giving Hercules a warm smile. ”Why…you here? Work? Shop?”

Okay so there was the smallest inkling of suspicion in Celeste. Given how easily she had been fooled in the past, it was probably a good thing there was still some healthy skepticism in her life. This man was claiming to be the towering demi-god, Hercules. It was only fair that she take that with the smallest grain of salt.

Still…he was big and powerful. And confident. Of the tales she had heard, that was Hercules down to the letter.

At his confirmation, she lifted her gaze back towards him and watched carefully. Again, so much confidence in his words. He claimed he knew of Atlantis, of her home, and even admitted to there being a length of time since he had been there. Intriguing. There were stories told in certain affluent families in Atlantis to personally knowing the demi-god. Most of the time such families merely bragged for the sake of bragging, but a visit from Hercules was a worthy, and more believable, tale.

He wanted to know why. To this Celeste gave a very big breath and gently moved her cinnamon roll aside. There she looked him squarely in the face before speaking, her thick accent pushing through the words she wanted to say and coming out as the words she was ‘capable’ of saying.

“I am Caelistis of capital district Triton of Atlantis,” She says somewhat formally, a formal greeting by Atlantean standards anyways. A quick bow her head follows. She then blushes a little. ”Though…that is no longer home. Citizen here now. X-Men said so.”

She balked at the groaning protest of the chair as “Hercules”, as he called himself, took his seat. Admittedly, Celeste was stunned by the revelation. Being from Atlantis, of course she was well-versed in the legends of the demigod. Heroic feats such as his were talked about often in the palaces, discussed amongst educators and politicians, when she was tasked to be nothing more than standing furniture. They were thrilling stories, to be sure, filled with adventure and tragedy. But could this walking mountain of muscle truly be him?

”Uhh..t-thank you…” she stammered.

At his compliment a pair of rose-red nebula began to drift lazily across her cheeks. It was sweet, of course, but something often said to her. That’s why people liked talking to her, no? Because she was “beautiful”? And yet, she still blushed. She guessed that no matter the amount of time, compliments still managed to seep in.

She cleared her throat as she moved over her tray to leave space for Hercules to set his down. So many kinds of food were balanced there, from many of the restaurants scattered throughout the food court. It seemed enough to feed an army and yet it appeared as if he would consume it all himself.

Her attention returning to her cinnamon roll, Celeste used her smaller than average plastic fork and knife to cut off another piece to eat. Her mouth appeared in the void of space (where any mouth would normally appear), and the hunk of cinnamon roll vanished behind her teeth. Quietly she chewed until Hercules once again addressed her.

”Oh…um…f-fine…” she said. ”On break. Enjoying a snack.” She stayed silent for another long moment before looking directly at him. ”A-Are you really THE Hercules?” she asked innocently. ”Twelve Labors of Eurystheus and all that?”

So…the mansion had been destroyed. It was good though that it was being rebuilt but, at the same time, it was terrifying for poor Celeste. The young Atlantean had left a home of torture and abuse for one of peace and hope…only to watch it get destroyed. Needless to say, Celeste was fairly shaken by the ordeal once it was all settled. Of course she wasn’t tossed out into the streets, she and many of the disenfranchised staff and students found comfortable lodgings while the school was rebuilt. But for Celeste it put a serious thought in her mind.

What was she going to do?

She came to New York with a handful of other Atlanteans and they all seemed to be doing remarkably well. Kalos found new people to call “Mom” and “Dad”, she found a family. Praxi, a former gorgon found purpose as an X-Man and even roommates with an attractive winged boy. And Amethyst…well…she was born a demi-god so her life seemed rarely hard. But even she and Praxi had found time with one another and a place share space outside of the mansion.

And here was Celeste…with nothing. It was…what did DocProf call this feeling again? Depressing. That’s it. Her existence was depressing.

But Celeste knew that she couldn’t just sit there and continue to let things happen to her. She had to forge out into the world. She had to try and make some kind of positive difference. So when the mansion had been destroyed, she decided that she would use that opportunity to try and do something, anything, to make herself self-reliant. She could go back to the mansion (once it was fully rebuilt), she knew that, but she didn’t want to trade one prison for another. She had her life, didn’t she? It was time she lived it.

Staring at her reflection, Celeste tilted her head as she looked over herself. The low-cut khaki pants mixed with the sleeveless black top looked pretty good on her. She still couldn’t believe how long she forced herself to wear her old chiton when she came to New York. But years have passed since then and, on top of learning how to talk, she now found herself fairly well-versed in fashion. Though, that wasn’t what this outfit was. She didn’t fully pick this out, this was the standard uniform for anyone who worked for the trending clothing chain - The Breach.

Yes. Celeste had a job.

It took some convincing but thanks to the efforts of the Xavier’s and Haven, she managed to actually secure a job in a clothing store at the local mall. Not the most glamorous job but it earned her money, it gave her something to do, and that honestly felt good. Wasn’t perfect though. She had only been working for a month and already she had engaged in two, what her coworkers called, “Karens” who demanded to know why a “freak” was handling their two sizes too small slacks. It was trying but Celeste was not going to be intimidated. She had to start building her life. It was hers now so she had to start somewhere.

“'Celeste'?" A voice droned. "Order for ‘Celeste’?”

She blinked and turned to the counter. ”I am her.” Celeste said as she walked up to the young man. Her speaking was much better, though still needed some improvement. As opposed to saying nothing, her words came out as, what coworkers have called, an ‘exotic accent’.

With a sweet smile, she took the brown tray with the oversized cinnamon roll sitting on it. The man smiled at her, a tinge of lecherousness that was hard to miss, but she didn’t pay it further attention. Instead she took her tray, turned, and headed for a table.

Celeste must have made quite the sight. Skin an array of blacks, blues, and purples, a deep void of nothingness save for the distance twinkle of stars and galaxies. She was lauded for her appearance when she was in Atlantis and, well, it seemed as if that didn’t really change up here. Either people thought she was a freak or their lustful thoughts played across their faces when she spoke to them (sometimes both at the same time). But, she was finally starting to grow callous to being viewed as such an object. If the mansion taught her anything it was that she was a person with rights the same as anyone else.

Finding an empty table among the din, Celeste took a seat and set down her tray and cinnamon roll in front of her. She was on, what her job called, a break, forced solitude. She liked being busy with work and, to be honest, didn’t often look forward to her breaks. Her coworkers had theirs at different times and, to be frank, the rest of the mall was too busy staring at her or ignoring her. But at least at the food court she found some reprieve. The cinnamon rolls were very tasty and it was worth taking her entire break to enjoy one before heading back to the sales floor.