Her day starts with a cup of coffee. Tea was for stuck up prats who walked and talked as if they had a gyrating stick up their bottom.

This was a very fine day indeed, for the balcony she sat in had a perfectly good view of the Foggy Lake, with all its foggy splendour. Of course the sounds of the occasional ear rending banshee shriek adds to the atmosphere. Why have birds when you have banshees? Oh and of course, as of every morning since last Tuesday, there seemed to be a group of them coordinating their shrieks. And speak of the devil, for their voices came just as she was thinking they disbanded, rattling her mug on its place as they gave different pitched and toned shrieks in succession. This time it seemed to be..... Mozart, the sixth symphony. How oddly refined. So in short...

"I miss Ireland." She gave a long sigh. At least there were some good music out here, a cappella shrieks or not.

Cornelia IV von Elzbern du Swarztheim, or just Amelia O'Garry before she decided she needed a grander name, was understandably bored after all the time she spent alone within the confines of the castle. She'd torture some of the maids, but she didn't feel like doing any of that when Silvia, her main maid for torture was taking her day off, leaving only the head maid Hilda on duty.

Her small wings, condensed for convenience's sake, started to beat nervously as she considered going back to Ireland. It was not possible however, for the moldy old bastards up in their tower would never let her do that, and the wall itself was for the protection of everyone in this place if she recalled correctly.

She hatched a devious plan as soon as the maid on duty excused herself for a moment, no doubt to find some more thread for her arm. Normally she would berate her for not sewing it on properly, but her mind hatched a devious plan as soon as she realized there was only one maid watching over her.

Her wings burst open to their full size as soon as the maid disappeared down the hallway, looking like a mass of black shadows vaguely shaped like batwings. With a powerful flap, she flew to tremendous heights, and spiralled down towards the Foggy Lake itself. If she recalled correctly there was an arts teacher who teaches her all those fine arts thing. Cornellia was a bit confused by her however, for the arts teacher, The arts teacher still wore such shabby robes when her pay was enough to buy better middle class clothes. Did she have an attachment to such a plebeian garb? 

Working off memory alone, she identified the art teacher's house, and zoomed in towards the window.

She crashed against the wall beside it with enough force to rattle the windows, recovered from her daze, walked around to the front door and knocked.

"It is I! Cornelia IV von Elzbern du Swarztheim! I have need to speak to you, Ms. Art Teacher!"