[h1][b][i][color=orange][center]Michelle "Shelly" Diggby[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[center][img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lli948Q1Ft1qzplijo1_500.gif[/img]
[color=orange][b]Location[/b][/color]: Women's Dormitory -> Formal Sitting Room
[color=orange][b]Skills[/b][/color]: N/A
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Michelle sat on her bed leafing through her largest diary, reading by the sunlight that streamed through her window. It was coming up to 6 months at the Xavier Institute for Godless Heathens and she had yet to be persuaded that this really was the home for her. [color=orange][i]"I mean, she had been persuaded"[/i][/color], Shelly admitted, old Charlie had convinced her to stay this long. He had a way of speaking and not just the directly into your bloody mind thing, Shelly guessed it was his conviction in his belief that no one is beyond redemption in a way only a powerful mind reader with a school full of broken human beings could be. It was this unconditional benevolence that had encouraged her to open up this much. The word "Chump" leapt out from the page at Shelly. [color=orange][i]"Chump. Me AND him."[/i][/color] Shelly thought quietly, as to not be overheard.

Shelly paused from poking her cheek to moisten the finger ready to flip the page, but she wasn't really reading anymore. The idea when she sat down was to ask past Shelly for reasons to stay and go to make it easier but she was just getting lost in the detail. There was obviously value in both leaving and staying, but the swaying factor was the freedom or more over, the control. Here she could learn the discipline she never had in her youth because of her powers, now despite her powers. If she behaved as she promised, Xavier promised her "gift" could be channeled towards loftier goals than she could imagine, and he'd be the one to know. Shelly shut the diary, ritualistically fastening the really not that complicated clasp that just stopped the pages flapping around and plopped it ceremoniously back on the desk. 

[color=orange]"Ah... Fuckin'..."[/color] Sailor Shelly muttered to herself while her language centre tried desperately hard to get an answer out of the calculation and planning parts of her brain. It roughly translated to [color=orange][i]what did she want to get done next?[/i][/color]  Shelly wandered out of her sanctuary and downstairs in hope of finding inspiration, or food, which ever came first. Shelly was pretty confident that she'd stumble on the latter first by design when, at the foot of the stairs, she could hear voice much more clearly. Outside, visitors were distantly chit-chatting amongst themselves, older people but younger than the grumps that haunted the basement, finally a chance to socialise with people her own age? While inside in the mmmm, [color=orange][i]Formal Sitting Room[/i][/color], kiddy winks were making a comparative racket.

Shelly didn't want to be percieved as ambushing new arrivals or mutie celebs on the stairs and reluctantly threw herself into the ball pit where, much to her surprise, she found an adult trying to keep the peace. Shelly tip-toed indiscreetly through the room to a spare armchair as to not disturb the tangent monologue adventure he'd taken us all on or the follow up tactical assault questions from the big child. Before she could answer he'd lost interest, but Big Brother didn't seem like the sort to take accusations of kidnapping lightly and with an "unexpected" visitation likely any moment now, Shelly thought it might be a good idea to diffuse this particular situation.

[color=orange]"Hey now, you can't just assume that. There's lots of ways to wind up here,"[/color] Shelly directed at Dean, [color=orange]"he might have won them in a game of cards, for instance."[/color]

[color=orange][i]Diffuse? My bad mutie mindreaders.[/i][/color]