Maid Uniform ---> Angel Wings

My addled mind wanders, daydreaming silly things, like the 'Maid Uniform' I've grown to detest unwraveling and unfurling into a pair of 'Angel Wings,' and setting m--

-y head and my heart ache, the world awash in color as--

--my wings stretch outward, the fabric of my corset's frilly straps rubbing up against their base in a strangely familiar feeling. I feel oddly... more. More clear-headed, more elegant. More aware of the magic, which has caught me in its grasp... and just how out-classed even I - her Highness'... guardian angel? - am. Something about that thought stirs confusion and bewilderment, but it passes quickly, dispelled by a comforting serenity within my heart. My focus returns to the magical device in my hands.

It is not a mirror, and it is not cursed. As I examine its magic - immense and intricately woven with the world - I determine that my current woes are simply an unfortunate circumstance borne from ignorance. It is a tool of change, and swapping from one iteration of time to the next at the user's discretion but it is meant to focus on someone other than the user. By pointing at myself, it reads my thoughts as the user - as intended - but it also enacts them upon me, fusing me with my hypothetical 'other self.' Normally, the user could exit at any time, but as I am also the subject I lack this ability.

At this rate, I fear my only release may come upon the device exhausting its options, and that is cause for fear indeed.

I am now an angel, but I am also the hapless Maid, the eager victim, and the frustrated dreamer. With every iteration, I feel my original self has grown less significant; more **** to the whims and eddies of fate. It is only the, hm, 'potency' of my current self that allows me such clarity but... even so, the enticement... the frustration... the effects of her Highness' magic, once impotent against me... It all lingers, branded into my soul.

I long to change, but also maintain my purity. To dream and fantasize of what may be, and escape my responsibility, but also to maintain my focus and control my destiny. Who knows~ how I may shift and warp as time goes on, and what consequence that may have for her Highness and the Kingdom as a whole...

Ah, I'm such a poor excuse for a guardian. From failing to thwart the demon, to failing to heal dear Arma's distorted heart, and now, caught like a fool in my own delusion from a moment of inattention... I can only hope, and focus, and try to hold onto what parts of myself I most cherish... as much as they chafe and as tempting as it may be, to let them go.

(maid, wavy light-green hair, lacy-white corset, angel wings, seductive smile, medium breasts, hairband, stockings, modest skirt, standing in a castle bedroom)

[AN: Big shift and a proper explanation for Cheryl's predicament. Don't feel pressured into developing things one way or the other - she says herself she's split down the middle. The Angel's voice is most prominent simply because it's the most recent, but think of it more as an excuse to make more benign changes if you choose. Or ignore it altogether. I'll work something out regardless.]