[h1][b][color=orange][i][color=orange][center]Michelle "Shelly" Diggby[/center][/color][/i][/color][/b][/h1]
[center][img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lli948Q1Ft1qzplijo1_500.gif[/img]
[color=orange][b]Location[/b][/color]: Patio -> Sitting Room
[color=orange][b]Skills[/b][/color]:
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Shelly threw open the double patio doors as best she could, which is to say, not particularly impressively at all. It looked as if a bomb had gone of in the Sitting Room. Books, timber and seat fluff was strewn everywhere in shocking contrast to the delicately well ordered form she remembered it being. Shelly orientated herself in the room hoping to find her bag much where she left it, only to find it flung to the side of the room near a rather soggy, half constructed version of the arm chair she was sat in earlier. The latches had yeilded and the contents were practically swimming.   

It was a disaster. Weeks of daily records turned to pulp in her hands, melting away through her fingers, the grey ooze forming a sludgy pile of forgotten memories on the ruined carpet. [color=orange]Gone forever.[/color] Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but eventually she'd have disuade herself of her own identity again and when she did, the contents of that book, that pile of wet fibre, wouldn't be hers anymore. It almost happened today, thinking about what could have come to pass made her feel sick to the pit of her stomach. Shelly thanked her lucky stars her heart wasn't really in it, she could treasure those weeks a little longer and get the important bits back on paper. 

Despite its higher quality paper, the self help book no longer had the integrity to hold it in its bindings, its torn pages providing avenues for structural water damage beyond the ordinary capacity, the printed ink streaked down the page reducing it to a series of ultra-frail Rorschach tests. Unlike loosing her diary, this wasn't depressing. This was terrifying. One bad button push and all that Shelly was, could be gone, unrecoverable. This booklet was a failsafe and now the failsafe was disabled, using her powers wasn't just morally reprehensible, it was down right suicidal.

The protective manifolds of the Book of Sin appeared to kept out not just those that might pry in, but the water too. A quick dry of the covers and a pop of the key in the lock revealed, the sacred knowledge was safe atleast. A small relief, especially considering entries that needed to be made tonight. Shelly clamped the book closed again before anyone could see inside. She'd have to bring it with her until she got back to her room.

She'd need to get the Grimoire out as soon as possible, thats what the self-help book had made her memorize, but first the ER.