there was a lot of things in the sanctum roselle was not allowed to touch, which... she understood. she didn't like it, and often challenged stephen on the matter, but she understood it. when he visited her in her own space, she had similar rules. but when a random object he'd found on a recent endeavour had taken up far too much of his time roselle had deemed it fit to get involved.
waiting for the moment stephen had wandered off to make himself some coffee, roselle had raced into the room and over to the table where the strange, magical artefact rested. she'd told stephen she was going for a nap, so her being here... oh, he'd have no idea!
the very thought brings a devious smirk to her face as she reaches a hand out, only to be stopped by fabric wrapping around her wrist and tugging her back. she scolds the cloak and tries again, but is stopped again. and again. and again. so much so, when @viteoublies returns with his freshly made coffee roselle has been mummified by the sentient piece of clothing and held in the air. air jail. she'd been put in air jail.
❝ i cannot see you, but i am assuming you're standing there with a smug look plastered across that annoyingly handsome face of yours, ❞ the witch speaks, her words almost muffled by the red cloth, ❝ tell it to put me down, or i'll make a new dress out of it. ❞