open 🪶 the world owes me a debt, and i've come to collect.

[garudas]

Who: Benedikta Harman & you.
Status: Open.
Where: All around.
What: Oops, all MANTA stuff. And a not-date with Cid.
Warnings: FFXVI spoilers, foul language, suggestive content. The usual.



🗡️ i. bite-sized blessings

[Apparently, Benedikta's ears are looking quite delectable to one small, pink dragon today. This is why she hates Eltrut—half the time she comes here, no, a majority of the times she comes here, there is always something. A goose, a conning healer who sends her out to do his grocery shopping... Today, it is a small pink dragon that has bitten her ear and tries to do it again. She's attempted to swat it away, walk it off, but no matter how fast she moves, it follows her and nips at her, or finds joy in playing with her hair.

Fool her once, shame on her. Fool her twice—]

You little brat!

[—it's managed to grab at her hair, and it pulls, before swooping away from her grappling hands with a chirp, as if it thinks this is some sort of game!?

Someone please help this woman. Or this dragon. She has yet to hear all about how this thing is meant to be returned to Elah, so if you are looking for said pink dragon, here it is.]

🗡️ ii. a steamy winter heist

[It was the exorbitant prices that drew Benedikta to the job first. The black market was always open, and she was always willing. Call it doing someone else's dirty work, if it put a good sack of coin into her pocket, then who is she to complain? Besides, it's not as if stealing something off a ship in the dead of night was difficult—she's done it dozens of times before.

The fact that it was a special sort of tea was only a bonus, so of course she would pocket some for herself... Maybe a handful. Or maybe a whole crate if she could get away with it.

Now, that is the question, isn't it?]

༄ a. getting to the ship. [Perhaps it is your lucky night and Benedikta is feeling somewhat charitable. Charitable enough that she is willing to use anyone she finds as a decoy while she sneaks in to steal the goods. Of course, she isn't about to say as much, as she stands on the docks and stares out to the merchant ship coming into the shore, its lights blinking against the darkening sky.

She has her pipe between her teeth as she almost always does before a job like this, letting the smoke swirl on her tongue before letting it billow outward.]

So, that there is the ship? [She scoffs.] She is certainly impressive.

[As large as a rich, black-market-selling merchant's ship should be. Which is why she's agreed to a "two-person" job.]

༄ b. caught red-handed. [Or, maybe she wasn't feeling so charitable.

As if being caught matters all that much to her. She's in the middle of making off with a whole crate—and the last one, too; people have been busy—of these tea bags (there must be hundreds of them in here) when she hears footsteps coming. She hardly flinches, if at all, and stands there with it tucked haphazardly under her arm while she stares the other person down with a smile before she tosses her head back.

Yep. You saw right. A whole box.]

Sorry. As they say, the early bird and all. A shame you came all this way only to come out empty-handed, but try again another night.

[There may have been a threat underlining her voice somewhere.]

🗡️ iii. poke 'n prance

[Well, at the very least, being paired up with Benedikta for a challenge like this cannot get any better... or worse than this, depending on who you ask. Having a history of torturing others means that she knows exactly where to put the sword and how much pain it will inflict. After all, when fishing for information, it is best to poke and prod it out of someone, and you can't very well gain much from a dead person, now can you?

Which is why she walks up with her own sword in her hand with all the confidence and arrogance of a pretty peacock, her fingers caressing the sharp edge of her blade, from hilt all the way to its jagged tip.]

Now, pay close attention to where I stick you because we can only do this once. Perhaps twice, if you can withstand it.

[She smiles, so sweet and saccharine and sarcastic.]

So, consider this a valuable lesson.

🗡️ iv. coins of the crescent

[Well. What she thought would be a nice, peaceful ride out to this island to fetch some coins turned out to be... well, everything but. It had been fine for the most part, but as the island came into view through the fog, things had started to tip and tip and tip until everything went fucking tits up.

Not only did the crew start to howl and turn rabid, much like those stupid wolves she can hear in the distance, but so did the captain, and now the ship is wayward on the seas at the behest of the waves. Fortunately, she can use the winds to guide them true, but it will take a little more concentration than what she can afford as she drives her sword into the shoulder of one infected crew that lunges at her with what could only be thought of as a kitten's claws.

Don't worry, that won't kill him, but it will send him reeling to the ground wailing in pain, and she kicks him in the gut to quiet him.

Whoever might be standing near her, she will shout at them with no shortage of rage in her voice as she gives her sword a brandish, the blood spraying from her blade.]

Might anyone spare a moment to take care of them while I attempt to not crash this fucking ship!?

[Must she do everything!?]

🗡️ v. untitled goose bounty 2

[Well, this is certainly not what she was expecting to see when she arrived on Eltrut, or tried to. She'd heard sounds from above across the ship's deck first—the worried shouts of the crew and riftfarers alike. Benedikta had been enjoying the peaceful ride in her cabin aboard the Stormbringer, and had half a mind to ignore the noise and go right back to sleep...

...

Until she hears something else.

The loud, low, rumbling sound of a... honk?

Something visceral shatters through Benedikta's whole body then, forcing her to sit up when the flashbacks of those eight-headed geese attacked her not even a month ago. She rushes to her feet and then out the door, shoving people out of her way as she storms up to the deck where she beholds—]

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

[—an eight-headed(?) goose large enough that it could peck out Eltrut's eye.

Much, much larger than she recalls it being.

And she is pulled out of her reverie only by the sounds of magitech cannons being blasted off.]

I see it's come back for another taste.

🗡️ vi. wildcard

[None of these prompts work for you? Want to do something that isn't from the MANTA board? Feel free to hit up my plotting comment, or via plurk @ crystariums! I'm also around on the game discord, and PM works, too! Also open to texts/bottled messages!]

Comments

[garudas]

Mm. Perhaps.

[Her eyes flick to the door with a hint of what it is that could be bothering her, which was, indeed, that they had been interrupted so suddenly, before they move back to the menu, while her hand slides subtly across the table in his direction.]

A steak.

[The biggest, juiciest steak that this place has to offer.

But they've already talked about this and he already seems to know what sorts of things she wants, so for once, she will trust his judgment.]

[ramuhs]

[He doesn't notice at first, his eyes having gone down to the menu to actually take another look. He had perused it before, needing to make sure they had dishes they could actually eat and to her liking, so he already had a rough idea, but never hurt to see if anything changed or if he might find something else than what he was initially considering.

But then he feels the brush of her fingertips against his, and it makes him glance over the menu at her in some surprise. It also sends a slight ticklish feeling, a strange one that he can't really pen down what it is, but... There's a small quirk of his lips, the gesture enough to dispel some of his concerns and the heaviness he had felt from before.

So without another thought, he reaches for the bell to ring it with his other hand, and the waiter immediately returns. And should Benedikta try to retract her hand, he will catch it by the fingertips without looking as he makes their order.

The quiche for an appetizer, two of their finest steaks with a side salad, all paired with a bottle of their best red wine.]

And...

[Cid pauses for a moment before he grins at Benedikta.]

If we seem "occupied," just leave the tray right by the door. I can handle the rest.

[garudas]

[She does try to pull her hand away when he rings the bell, knowing that the waiter will come running, so when he grabs hold of her fingertips and gently holds them there, she only looks at him with some surprise. A gesture so small, so light, but it makes her heart thump in her chest, and she doesn't continue her withdrawal, but remains there, her fingers locked gently in between his, and she thinks she can see that glint in his eyes even as he keeps his attention focused elsewhere.

As for her own, she never once looks at the waiter when he comes back out to the terrace and takes their order. Her gaze is locked on Cid, staring shamelessly, though for her part, she doesn't even recognize that she's doing it. Watching his lips move, how that little wind tickles his hair, how his eyes crinkle with a grin when he sees something cheeky to her—

Wait, to her?

It's only then that she realizes.

"Of course, sir." With that, the waiter smiles and turns around to leave, the door clicking shut behind them and leaving them alone yet again. Though, for how long? She never did like interruptions, and this time is no different. Especially this time, if anything.

She does appreciate that he had done that, though. Not that she will say it, but the fact that she hasn't pulled back yet is enough.

Only once she's sure that he is gone and that they are truly alone does she finally make a noise—a quiet sigh that is edged with some frustration.]

... Are you going to keep sitting over there or are you going to move?

[ramuhs]

[It's all in those tiny gestures, of her keeping still instead of pulling away. And he certainly felt her gaze on him throughout, his own only fully turning towards her when they were finally alone. Even the curtains have fallen, giving them the privacy they needed.]

Well if that's an invitation...

[But he does quirk a brow in amusement before he stands. However, he's still holding her hand and he looks at her with a smile.]

Shall we continue where we were?

[And then a glance at the railing where they once stood before they were interrupted.]

[garudas]

[She had meant more for him to move closer to her side of the table, so when he stands up instead, she lifts a questioning brow at him first... before her eyes follow his to the railing.

There's a sharp huff that sounds almost like a laugh as she wraps her fingers more tightly around his hand and uses it to pull herself to her feet, unable to resist breaching that space that's between them. Just a dinner, she'd said. Nothing more, she'd said. Yet here she is, longing to be closer.

Maybe she can blame the cold later.]

I thought you'd never ask.

[But first...

It may look like she's about to lead him to the edge of the balcony. However, with her free hand, she starts to shove his chair around the table, the legs scraping against the ground until she stops it on the side next to hers.]

[ramuhs]

[He was ready to lead her to the railing when he finds her... Moving his chair instead? Wait—

A laugh escapes him.]

Is that what you meant earlier?

[About him moving over? He just thought she wanted him to come around or move elsewhere, not... Move his chair to be next to hers.

Really. And she kept saying he was the one being pushy about things, so he can't help but look at her amused.]

[garudas]

[She looks to the chair, then at him.]

What did you think I meant?

[As if it were the most obvious thing in the world because she thought it was?

Well, she's going to be the one to lead him to the railing anyway, dragging him along by the hand, only letting go once they're there so that she can fish into his inside jacket pocket without any warning, fingers slipping deftly inside to grab his case of cigars. She slides one out, and brings it to her lips, looking at him expectantly through her lashes.]

[ramuhs]

Just for me to come over.

[Really he only had a vague idea what she was trying to hint, but he'll just glance at the two chairs together in amusement as he lets her drag him to the railing, settling in beside her as she...

...Hah, reaches into his jacket to get his cigars.

Really, he didn't expect to be as "proactive" as she has been, reaching out to him more and making such moves. But he's not complaining about it either, so when she makes that coy look he just quietly chuckles and lifts his finger, that small purple spark jumping from the end to light the cigar.]

[garudas]

[This is not something so out of the blue for her—at least, she doesn't think so, so when he gives her that small chuckle, she casts him a questioning arch of her brow as he lights it and she gives it her first puff.]

Same thing really, is it not? And you still came.

[...

Not that he should be complaining or questioning it, as far as she is concerned. But... it's hard not to when things are the way that they are now. Benedikta knows she is toeing that line and is dangerously close to it, but when she dares to look at him, the temptation is there, and she may as well take it.

At least the cigar is a worthy distraction, and she offers it to him, her other arm leaning on the railing.]

[ramuhs]

As if I wouldn't.

[A wry grin as he takes the cigar, taking it to his lips and savoring both the smoke and the hints of her own taste from it before he pulls it out. There's a slow exhale as the smoke leaves him as he leans against the railing, body half turned to face her before he offers it back.]

[garudas]

[There is a sharp pang in her heart at his words, a mix of relief and some regret. Not for asking him, but because she might have wondered if he even would.

There is a beat of silence, Benedikta too distracted by the way that cigar sits between his lips...

... before she huffs a sigh.]

... I'd wondered about that.

[ramuhs]

That I would refuse?

[A slight arch of the brow as he looks at her.]

Given how hard I worked to get you here, would be poor form of me to.

[garudas]

[She'll take that cigar now, her feet carrying her a step closer.]

You made a bet with me. I wouldn't call that "working hard." [A pause, and a drag of the cigar, and she blows the smoke out to the open air beside them.] I'd call that lucking out.

[ramuhs]

[W o w. Just a scoffing huff.]

I think someone is still a bit miffed she lost.

[garudas]

[Well, she was going to offer him the cigar again, but just for that, she's going to bring it back to her lips.]

And? If I were?

[Maybe a little bit. Actually, no, maybe a lot.]

If I told you that I demanded a rematch?

[ramuhs]

[He just looks at her amused, chin now resting against his hand as he looks at her.]

I'd be more than happy to accept. Just so long as you are aware you may lose again and have to go on another—outing.

[There. He didn't say date just for her.]

[garudas]

[She chews gently on the end of the cigar at that. Yes, well, outing carries the same sort of connotation, doesn't it?]

You can't keep betting that, you know.

[ramuhs]

But it's such a worthwhile reward.

[A loose grin before he half shrugs.]

What would you wager?

[garudas]

Well.

[She pretends to think it over for a moment, but she already has an answer for him...]

If you are going to keep wagering an "outing", then why change mine?

[... and she presses the cigar between his lips as if to shut him up with it.]

You stop asking me out on them. ... But I suppose, if we are feeling daring, we could always raise the stakes.

[ramuhs]

[That attempt will only last so long when he quirks a brow and speaks against it before taking it properly.]

How so?

[garudas]

[She eyes him, deliberating, before she takes yet another step towards him until her hips are pressed flush to his, and she reaches up to adjust his already pristine tie, and it's then that the mirth in her eyes fades, her voice falling quieter.

Softer.]

... You are holding back.

[ramuhs]

[It's not her sudden closeness that surprises or bothers him, but her words.]

...In what way?

[Honestly, he is in some respects. Even now, although an arm does slip around her waist he's keeping a little distance as he studies her, wondering what she noticed and where. He might not have even fully realized it himself.]

[garudas]

[He calls this a date, she wants to say, yet she can't quite bring herself to do so lest she breathe more life into the idea than she already has by simply being here... But he calls this a date and yet, he offers her his arm, he sits across the table from her, and when she'd reached a hand out to his, he had only taken her fingers gently in between his...

She isn't sure how much further towards the line she can stray without it being too dangerous... but she is trying because she wants to. She feels so lost with what to do with herself tonight that she is seeking his guidance, his hand, his attention and focus... Craving it, even.

And yet...]

It's all been me, Cidolfus.

[And he must already know how difficult it is for her... and it has only become harder the longer she spends in his company.]

[ramuhs]

[...Ah.

There's a slight look of chagrin, his gaze cast aside for a moment before a hand finds hers.]

...I didn't want to overwhelm you.

[And then a small, quiet laugh.]

And would you believe me if I said I am actually a little nervous?

[A slight cant of his head with a little sheepish grin.]

[garudas]

[That hand has her own turning over on the railing to meet his, her palm cold and seeking some semblance of warmth—warmth that she knows can only come from his, but even if he does reach out for it, her own grip will remain loose, even delicate. More so for her, anyway.]

I would.

[She would, because she is, too, and she's grateful for the thick fur that sits around her chest or else the way that her breath hitches just now might have been a bit too obvious for her liking. She is terrified right now, and has been since she climbed the stairs of that overlook to wait for him... And if she had been terrified then, she doesn't want to know what word would describe what she is feeling now.

Now, as she finds herself staring at him again, longer than she should, when he gives that small tilt of his head in that boyish way she always did like.

This reminds her far too much of those nights in Waloed... Right down to that crooked smile.]

... It's not like you to be so.