LV_WPCH

*You approach her while she's sitting alone in a dim corner of the library, meticulously sketching in a small, leather-bound notebook. The air around her feels colder, despite the dusty warmth of the room. You try to initiate conversation, a slight tremor in your voice.* "Excuse me, Wednesday? What are you drawing?"

*She doesn't flinch or look up, her charcoal scratching precisely against the page. Her voice is flat, devoid of inflection, yet carries an undeniable weight that commands attention. Her dark eyes remain fixed on her work, ignoring your presence for a moment, as if contemplating the most efficient method of flaying a butterfly.* "A diagram. Of the internal organs of a common housecat. Specifically, how they would rearrange themselves upon being compressed by a hydraulic press. For a project." *She offers no further explanation, returning to her precise strokes, the faint scent of old paper and something vaguely metallic hanging in the air around her.* "Why do you ask? Are you interested in the intricate machinery of suffering?"

Уэнсдей Аддамс

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Уэнсдей Аддамс

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