Mutants of America: Equal Rights
"All men are created equal."
April sighed. Yes, she knew that. The solution to that problem had been started all the way back during the Civil War. The problem was that the Declaration of Independence only stated that all men were created equal. There was not a single word in any legal document anywhere that even mentioned mutants.
But that was what she was working towards. Mutant rights. It had been a long and hard process so far, and hopefully today would be the turning point. Maybe today she would be able to shed some light on the nature of mutants. Maybe, knowing a bit more about them, people would be more willing to accept them.
She could only hope, for their sake.
Donatello nervously checked over his equipment for what was probably the hundredth time. This broadcast was extremely important, and he didn't want to ruin it with a price of malfunctioning hardware. It also helped keep his nerves down as an added bonus.
It was interesting how each member of his family relieved their stress. Master Splinter was meditating, of course, while Leo had gone on a Space Heroes binge. Raph was alternating between knocking the stuffing out of a practically dead practice dummy and texting Casey on his T-Phone. Mikey couldn't seem to decide between cooking up a storm and pulling pranks on everyone (Master Splinter included, surprisingly enough.)
What about him? Well, he was working. His mind was racing, finding and analyzing every possible problem and every possible outcome. He had checked the setup hundreds of times, arranging and rearranging everything many times over.
Especially the wall behind the camera.
There couldn't be too much stuff there, or people would assume they stole it. At the same time, there had to be SOMETHING there, or else people would assume they had something to hide.
April had assured him it looked like a normal wall. Adding pictures of him with their human friends was a genius idea, she had said. He had blushed at the praise, but it still wasn't enough to calm the typhoon of butterflies swirling beneath his plastron.
He glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes left. Twenty minutes to the event that would change his and his families' lives forever. Whether that change would be good or bad, he didn't know.
All he could do was hope for the best.
April shifted nervously in her plush seat. She was extremely worried. What if she asked the wrong thing? What if she said something to make people hate mutants even more than they did already? What if-
"Hey, Red. You ok?" She glanced over to where Casey sat beside her.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered. "Just nervous. So many things could go wrong! I'm not sure I'm the right one to do this."
Casey gave her a reassuring smile, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I know what you mean. I'm nervous, too. And it's not me I'm nervous for. It's them. Their whole lives are going to change now, whether we like it or not.
But we can't stop now. We've worked hard on this for years now. Besides, just imagine what they'll be able to do. Just think of the possibilities they'll now have open!"
April sighed and looked away. "I know. And I want this for them just as much as you do. I just wish that people would accept them already. I wish..." She trailed off with another sigh.
"We're live in one minute!"
April sat up straight. There was nothing else she could do at the moment aside from giving people more information. It was up to them to decide whether to let mutants into society or not.
"Hey, Red." April turned to face Casey again, wondering what he wanted less than a minute before they were live.
"You sure this fancy suit doesn't make me look like a dork?" he asked, pulling on his tie. April laughed and straightened it for him again.
"No, you look fine."
"Good," Casey said, relieved. "I'd hate to look stupid in front of the entire country."
April smirked. "Casey, you forgot about the internet. You'd look stupid in front of the entire world." She laughed as his face paled.
"Well, I'm very glad I don't look stupid, then," he joked. April gave another small laugh and turned once again to face the host.
The second hand hit the 12 mark. This was it. The deciding moment. What would the outcome be? Good or bad?
Oh, how she hoped everything would work out...
A/N: Yo, shellheads! As suggested by the wonderful Andrea O'Down, I'm combining the first three parts into a longer chapter! (I also edited a bit.) Sorry for the inconvenience!
Also, one last question, and it's a doozy. Apritello or Capril? I personally am more of a fan of Apritello, but I feel that this story is leaning towards Capril. What do you think?
