[PRP] GET DOWN FROM THERE! (Sibyl/Mot) FIN

[Bittiface]

Mot was trying so hard. So hard. But no. No respect at all. None. Mot tried not to whine or get cross as he stooped down to grab the ghoul by the cuff of her pelt, pulling her up. Or tried to. He had little strength to lift the ghoul. He at least could stop her from doing anything for a moment.

"Excuse me, little miss!" He huffed. "Did you not hear me? Don't damage the roof! Or I will report you to..."

. . .

"The commander." He meant Sal.  

[Eight]

Sibyl was in the process of turning over another roof shingle when she felt a hand touching her. No. Not her. Her pelt. Her immediate reaction was a shrill, ear-piercing shriek as she went from the sweet little ghoul everyone knew to a screaming banshee reaching up and trying to pry the hand away from her pelt. "LET GO OF MY PELT!" She demanded loudly, her nails scraping against the boil's arm, wrist and hand to try and get him to let go. She refused to stand, kicking her feet and squirming. "LET GO LET GO LET GO LET GO!" At that point she didn't even care who the commander was. Someone was pulling on her pelt. He was trying to steal it. Her pelt was not treasure. It was her skin.  

[Bittiface]

That shriek scared the daylights out of Mot, the scratches making him let go immediately, his skin going from sickly pale (normal for him) to negative white.

Whatever negative white was.

Mot staggered back, losing his balance and falling down. Luckily, not off the roof, and simply uncomfortably on his back with a hollow grunt. The reaper gingerly held his arm, looking across the way at Sibyl. "Wh-what's wrong?"  

[Eight]

Her pelt was released and the ghoul collapsed onto the rooftop again, pulling her pelt from around her shoulders to hug the six-foot-long seal-shaped pelt. She hugged and pet it, burying her face against it and rocking back and forth where she was sitting. It was okay, maybe he just didn't know. He was even asking what was wrong. It's okay. It's okay. He just didn't know. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay.

"D-d-don't..touch a selkie's pelt!" She wailed, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. No touching. Touching was bad.

She didn't say another word for a long while, simply working at calming down while it was quiet. It'd be okay. It'd be okay.

"Wh-why won't you let me look for treasure. I'll share it I promise."  

[Bittiface]

Don't touch a Selkie's pelt? "I'm sorry. I won't do it again..." Mot nodded slowly. He had no idea what grave crime he'd committed, but he'd abide nonetheless. He'd hate to make her wail like that again. Besides, it was shame on him for man handling her in the first place. He should have simply stuck with words, however ignored they may be.

"Well.. think of it this way. You don't like people touching your pelt, right?" This was probably an exaggerated comparison, but he had to try. "How would you feel if creatures pulled it apart looking for candy?"  

[Eight]

"...Pulling up shingles is not going to bind a house to be someone's slave for the rest of their life." Sibyl mumbled unhappily. There was no comparison in her head. Nothing could be compared to this. Nothing.

Sibyl sniffed. "It's just a roof. And it's fun." Did this boil not know what fun was? He kept trying to spout rules at her and stop her!  

[Bittiface]

Oh....

....o-oh...

Mot flushed red. He definitely did not mean to do... that.

"But its someone else's property! Does no one respect such things anymore but me!?" Mot was falling into despair. No matter what he did, rules were not abided. Chaos was rampant. Shingles were being ripped from roof tops! "Now when it rains some poor reaper will have a leaky ceiling."

Mot's gaze leveled and he sighed. "I know of fun. I had it once."  

[Eight]

"I was gonna put it all back when I was done.." Sibyl was still arguing though she lacked the energy to really fight him too much. It seemed defending herself against the potential pelt thief had worn her out, that and having climbed up the entire front of the reaper dorms to get here in the first place..

Yeah, she was tired.

"Once? You can't have fun just once. You gotta have fun all the time." She made a face at that. That was silly, Mot. How could you know of fun? You should be having fun.  

[Bittiface]

"You were going to re shingle a roof?" Mot asked with a deadpanned tone. "You know that professionals do that for a reason, right?"

Mot sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I have fun by not disrupting rules and order." Mot protested, "Like reading, and wood crafting. Solitary activities that do not make trouble for others."

He let his hand fall and gave Sibyl a look of concern. "Why not go to a maul or pool with a friend or something? Or treasure hunt in a place that is designated for such things? Like... a sand box."  

[Eight]

She wasn't going to reshingle it, she was just going to put the shingles back where she found them. That was the same thing, right? Sibyl just blinked and stared at Mot. She was totally a professional. She had all of this under control.

"Must get lonely," was all Sibyl had to say about Mot's hobbi--okay that's a lie. "And booooriiiiing. I bet I could take you on a super fun adventure. My awesome friend Hel took me treasure hunting! I found things like keys and coins and seeds we found a skull! And shovels! And bones! It was so cool!"

When Mot suggested she go treasure hunting in a sand box she scoffed and waved a hand at the idea. "Sand boxes are for scarelings...and the last time I went to the maul a ghoul got icky brown water on my skin.." Sibyl frowned and hugged her seal skin again. Gene had apologized profusely after but...it had still been enough to chase her away from the mall for quite some time now.  

[Bittiface]

"It isn't lonely! I see friends too. But I don't go ripping up roofs to do it." Mot sighed a bit, noticing he would not win this argument. He wasn't sure he wanted to know where Hel took the ghoul. Hel was the Queen of trouble, after all.

"Well fine. Just don't destroy someone else's property. Or lawn. Or roof."  

[Eight]

Sibyl just stared.  

[Bittiface]

". . . W-what?" Mot leaned back a bit. Was he really that much of a wet blanket?  

[Eight]

"If I can't look for treasure on the roof, you owe me a treasure hunt."

Sibyl was completely serious.  

[Bittiface]

Mot face palmed and groaned. "You want me to take you on a treasure hunt?"