It was still dark out when Wendy's Middlewatch began brooping insistently. Still half asleep, she slapped the reply button, and mumbled to Ida that she was awake and'd be there asap ( Read more... )

Silence reigned in the Middle-jet as The Middleman, whose expression could best be described as chagrined, laid a course into the auto-pilot and Wendy, whose expression could best be described as incredibly pissed off, focused on changing the band-aids on her blistered hands ( Read more... )

( Inside the apartment Wendy shares with another photogenic young artist... )

Wendy's side of the room was packed up, she'd made sure certain photos would be delivered to Edmund when he got back, and sent anything that wouldn't fit in the car on ahead. She wasn't sure how exactly she'd explain acquiring as much stuff as she did while on a "short retreat in Nepal", but she'd manage.

[Wendy's going awaaaaaaaaaay. Open.]

Wendy hadn't really had any intention of going to Prom last night anyway, but at least staying in to look after Weechee had just provided a better excuse than trying to avoid anyone who might have seen her turn as Sabrina yesterday.

So, caffeinated and free of hangovers, Wendy picked up her copy of The Big Book of Post-Modern Art For Kids! and ( Read more... )

Yawning, still in her pajamas, Wendy closed the door behind her, intent on cartoons and cereal in the common room ( Read more... )

Wendy was bored, and since she didn't have either Mama or Daddy around to enforce stupid rules about bedtime, that meant she had to make her own entertainment.

Which was why she was putting the finishing touches on a costume.

She was going to be a superhero!

She was going to to fight crime!

[Open, sure.]

Wendy frowned as she woke up in a room that more closely resembled a broom-closet than her penthouse suite at Fatboy Industries HQ. Her mood barely improved as she took in the frankly garish art covering half the closet's walls and then took a deep nosedive as a quick rifle through of the night-stand revealed a student ID in her name and a familiar ( Read more... )

While Wendy was a morning person, it would be less than honest to say she fired on every single cylinder before she got around to having her caffeine. Which was why at first she didn't notice anything too amiss when she got out of bed, and stretched, one hand rubbing over her stubble as she yawned ( Read more... )

( Not having spent the summer on the island... )