The Arms Hotel, Saturday Afternoon

[wwiii]

It was Saturday. And, normally that really wouldn't mean anything different from any other day for Warren. After all, since he'd manifested as a mutant and had grown wings, he really hadn't had to worry about things like normal school days, and his father didn't exactly approve of him spending his weekend mornings parked in front of the television, watching cartoons instead of doing something productive with his time, like studying math.

Exactly what every eight-year-old in the world needed to be doing with his time, of course.

Really, the only difference Saturday happened to make in the outcome of Warren's day today was that, since Warren didn't have classes at his grown-up school in Sunnydale, he was waking up in a hotel room on Fandom Island, and wasn't going to have to deal with some sort of horrible freakout between himself and his roommate. In fact, the worst that he was going to have to deal with this morning?

"You again?"

Every time he woke up in a weird place, it was always with that loudmouthed girl who kept calling him a crybaby.

[OOC: For she who calls him a crybaby!]