<div align="center">(http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb441/EliaMarcheline/emma51-1-1-1.png)</div><br/><br/><br/><br/>Boredom. That was not a word Emma was accustomed to using. In fact, she wasn't sure if that was a word she had ever used, in her entire life. Because her life<em> hadn't </em>been boring. It had been exhilarating, exciting, constantly molding and shaping its way through endless geographical locations over every last continent this planet had to offer. But now... she was stuck, both literally and figuratively, and she had no idea how to remedy that. Her art had always been that escape for her, a means not only of self expression, but a way to set her soul free. Within the walls of the castles however, she was a prisoner. Bound and shackled by the mundane and stagnant way of life that seemed to engulf her from all sides. The inner strength of her vibrant being was whittling away at her resolve to stay for her brother's sake. They needed one another now, whether they were willing to admit it or not, and she wasn't about to bail on family. But still... The lure of emancipating herself and flitting off into the great unknown that was the corners of earth she had left unexplored, undiscovered, unpainted, was horribly tempting. She had taken, in her first few weeks within the school, to exploring random bits of castle. Not only to familiarize herself with the layout, but to poke and prod about for creative stimulus. The singular instance in which she found herself even mildly intrigued had been when she stumbled upon the music rooms. It's not that her skills as an artist extended much to musical instruments, but the lure of the potential of a cacophony of sounds was far too intriguing to pass up.<br/><br/>Knowing she wasn't going to find much in terms of distraction simply wandering the halls aimlessly, she directed her soft foot fall towards the halls containing said musical opportunities and paused when she caught sight of what appeared to be an abandoned practice room that had long fallen to disuse. Stepping through, hearing the slight creak of the ancient door protest her actions and fall back only partially closed, she perused its contents curiously. A thin layer of dust seemed to fall upon anything that wasn't covered by the sparse cloth tarps that guarded unknown objects of varying mass and shape. Though, with the door having swung almost into place, there was very little light for her to decipher much else. Eyes searching near fruitlessly in the partial darkness, it was a few moments before her hand wandered to an ebony stage light. Clicking the switch tentatively, unsure if it would respond at all, she blinked rapidly when a cascade of light fell down in streaked rays upon the concrete floor. It wasn't fully functioning, and the glow it created only partially illuminated the room, but it would do, she supposed. The cloth tarps were the most prominent feature she could see, cloaking veritable unknowns as their fabric fell in swatches of alternating length to the floor. Making a circle around the objects, she delicately tugged at the cloths with her fingers catching side glimpses of brass, woodwinds, strings, and various other instruments she wasn't entirely familiar with. She was about to move onto the next swatch without pause when a glint of metal and skin snagged her eye. Tugging at its covering swiftly, she exposed the instrument to the odd rays from the stage light, and could feel metallic reflections dancing across her features, sparkling in her irises. Stepping round the form of the drums, she sat at the petite stool that had been placed just to its side and let her fingers trace delicately across the skin. It had no pliability, but it did give an odd scratching noise as she dragged her hand from one side to another. Testing it out, she swiftly tapped her fingers in succession across its surface, and broke into a satisfied grin at the noise she had elicited. Maybe she wouldn't be bored today afterall.<br/><br/>