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]

[Benedikta's face is mostly unreadable throughout as the show begins. Mostly because she is actually trying to focus on anything but him, whether it's the songs or the lights or the faceless people in the audience. His earlier words have clung to him like honey in the back of her throat, excessively sweet and overbearing. She keeps expecting that he will do something, and then the next part of the song begins, and then the next...

Really, the performers are quite incredible, she will give them that much, and the meaning of the story is not completely lost on her. It leaves her thinking of her own situation—their own, and of how it is not so different. Except that in their version, they do not get to meet again in another world. Or theirs. This is it. Unlike the woman this story is about, Benedikta does not think herself so fortunate.

The gods do not smile upon her like they do for them.

Her mind has begun to race, as does her heart in an effort to keep up, to stop her from thinking too much on those final thoughts... the ones of the man sitting next to her...

The man sitting next to her...

How long she'd been watching, Benedikta doesn't know, but as the thought of him occurs to her—as if it never left—she turns slowly to look at him, first through her hair as it drapes in front of her face, and then more fully, only to find him staring back at her.

She doesn't say anything, her own head too filled with thoughts to find words...

...

So, she just meets his eyes with a silent message. What she actually conveys, she doesn't know, but there are deeper emotions swirling someplace far, far beneath.

But before anything more could be seen or done, she tears her eyes away and focuses back on the man and woman on the stage again.]

[ramuhs]

[When he catches her gaze, his eyes widen subtly as he feels a something twinge in his chest. He knew she had been watching, but he couldn't clearly see what kind of expression she may have had. But to see that in her gaze, those emotions that render him unable to think clearly.

Was...

He glances back down at the stage, the two lovers together as the lyrics of the song, a duet, start to flow through, their voices clear.

You know I want you
It's not a secret I try to hide...

...Fuck.

He hadn't wanted draw parallels between this story and their own, and yet it's hard not to now. Not when she looks at him with that kind of gaze and his mind spinning as to why. To meet in another world, to find love in another world, no longer able to return to their own...

You claim it's not in the cards
And fate is pulling you miles away
And out of a reach from me

Without thinking, his hand has reached over to grab her chin, turning her face to him. Turns it so he can once again see into her eyes, his own reflecting something deeper and unknown even to him.

What if we rewrite the stars?

Turns it so he can pull her to him into a kiss.]

[garudas]

[It all comes crashing down around her in a single moment. In that moment when she feels his fingers tug at her chin, in that moment when their eyes meet... and as he pulls her in for that kiss, the sound of the music—the words, the voices, the meaning behind it all—fade into the background. Nothing but noise against the roar of her blood within her, the loud thundering of her heart in her ears to drown out everything else.

She doesn't wait to kiss him in return, that flood of emotions too much for her to bear that she needs someplace for them to go. She can feel them clawing at her insides to get out... Clawing and gnashing to go somewhere.

To go to him...

Just like she does because she can't help but want to.

But it's because of this flood of emotions that she pulls back. It all becomes too much too fast, and while she doesn't want to peach this and ruin it...

...

Her lashes flutter as she opens her eyes to look at him, a sigh leaving slightly parted, wet lips, and her finger traces down along his jaw, nail scraping his skin ever so gently. She doesn't say the word, but it's there, implied. She doesn't say it because she doesn't want him to go away completely...]

[ramuhs]

[He is very tempted to chase her back, and for a moment his head ducks closer to hers. However, he can see in her expression, feel the way her pulse races and the fact she pulled back...

Too much, probably. No, definitely. He had been too caught up in the moment, and he realizes that once more he rushed in when he shouldn't have. Though he supposes that she's still here is a positive sign.

So there's just a wistful look in his gaze, one he doesn't even realize himself before there's just smallest quirk of his lips, a very small, tiny smile of apology as the fingers that had been at her chin now gently cup her face. Just a brief moment, where his fingertips can brush over her skin, pull back her hair.

...

It really is difficult for him to not want to do more, but he holds back for her sake.]

[garudas]

[If it wasn't for the way that the meaning behind these songs had hit her, she might have been fine. Screw the opera, screw the performance, she would have said, but instead, she found herself enamoured and a little jealous. Wanting to know how the story ended, and angry at herself for feeling even the slightest inkling of hope...

What a dangerous thing that is.

But when she catches that apology in his smile, and right when she feels like he might pull back, her hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, keeping him firmly in place so that she can brush her cheek over the warmth of his fingertips.

A hint that she doesn't want him to leave.

She makes it that much more known when her hand wraps over his, slotting fingers through fingers, nearly perfect in their fit, and that's when she will lower it, bringing it to her lap as she inches just a little closer to him on the seat.]

[ramuhs]

[He catches that hint, and it does help to ease some of his worries. It can always be a bit hard to tell how far he went and how much he can do after. So his hand tightens over hers just a fraction, a little squeeze as if to say he understands before the arm behind her lowers to be more firmly around her shoulders to pull her just that little closer.

And he'll hold her like that as his gaze lingers on hers for a moment before he turns it back to the stage. Even if his mind is anywhere but there.]

[garudas]

[It's enough. That tighten of his fingers between hers is enough for her to understand what he is trying to say to hers. And she lets him pull her closer, a little sigh tumbling out of her when he does, and her head leans just slightly so that it can bump against his.

She knows that he's turned his eyes back to the stage, but Benedikta is looking at him again, only for a moment, watching to see if he'll look back before she follows suit.

Her voice is sudden, but quiet under the sound of the song... this song about fate and fighting it that she cannot bear to listen to right now... but it's just loud enough for him to hear in his ear.]

It's an interesting premise.

[That is to say... he feels it too, doesn't he?]

[ramuhs]

[And he will when he feels her gaze on him. Not immediately, wanting to let her think he hasn't noticed and so she can take in whatever it is she wants, before he turns his head slightly to meet her eyes. And then at her words, his fingers brush against hers before he hums a bit.]

To be honest, I thought it a bit convoluted. Meeting in one world only to need to find each other again in another on top of memory loss...too many complicated elements.

But.

[His hand then tightens over hers a little.]

It does strike something of a chord.

[One with their names on it.]

[garudas]

[He'll feel her nod in agreement, the lightest hum in response to his.

There's a pause, almost like she's going to leave it at that, while she listens to the words of the song.

All I want is to fly with you
All I want is to fall with you
So just give me all of you
It feels impossible

It's hard not to feel a little something bitter in her chest. Stories like this one are so whimsical, and she never liked whimsy. Never liked fairy tales if only because they were something that could never be. Always scorned those women who would titter over the newest book or play, always rolled her eyes at how they would swoon over the love stories. Hated love. Hated that they were stories about love. Hated that it gave people hope that they could find it.

Hated that she felt like she couldn't again.

And now here she is, feeling like she is caught up in one, and asking—]

How do you suppose it will end?

[ramuhs]

[He's quiet for a moment, as if to seriously consider her question along with the play. Even with operas and plays, a happy ending is actually not so common, with a tragedy just as likely. However...]

They are fighting against fate...which is a tall order. However...

[His head turns slightly more towards her.]

If they are able to meet again in another world, and so long as they have the will to work together... I think they can beat it.

[While his answer is for the play, it would be difficult to not catch the double meaning in them. Of the reflection of their own situation. Of his own endeavors to fight fate.]

[garudas]

[Oh, she does indeed catch that double meaning, and it is loud and clear. A double meaning answer for a double meaning question seems suitable in this case. And while she does not turn her own head to him, he might spot the slight twitch of her lip, a subtle smile ghosting over her lips before it's gone just as fast at what he has to say.

She really should be telling him no. Pushing him away. Protecting herself from the potential of being let down again...

But that draw is too strong, and while she tried so, so hard not to be weak to it, after all that's happened tonight, what else is she supposed to do? It has always been this way with them, even back then, and while they may have changed, there were some things that stubbornly stayed the same.]

You are too optimistic for your own good sometimes.

[In spite of that, and herself, Benedikta moves closer still, her leg slipping out from beneath her dress to bump her knee to his, and her free hand reaches up to thread through the one that rests at her shoulder.]

[ramuhs]

...Hm.

[A quiet, light hum as his own smile flickers over his lips as he watches her.]

So I've been told.

[An optimist. A dreamer. And while he is also very much a realist, sometimes the only way to keep moving is to have that hope. The only thing keeps pushing him is that desire to actually make it so.

And at her little nudge and feeling her hand on his...]

But sometimes...

[He leans his head just a little closer to hers. He's still facing outward, but his lips are quite close to her ear all the same, his voice that quiet, low rumble she so enjoys.]

...it's hard not to.

[garudas]

[Her fingers squeeze around his in a poor attempt to temper the shiver that runs from her ear down her neck and her spine. With how close they sit, she doesn't doubt that he feels it, but she goes on pretending anyway.]

Or it ends in tragedy.

[To balance his optimism, she has always been a realist. Perhaps too much of one for her own good, but when the gods give her little to work with, all that remains is what's right in front of her.

She leans close as well, but keeps her eyes fixed on the stage as the audience applauds, and the show continues on to the next song. Though, she's hardly listening to it now as she twirls her fingers between his, and he'll feel a light wind tickling the back of his hand. Subtle, but it's there, and then gone as swiftly as it had come.]

They cannot rely on fate to do all the work for them.

[ramuhs]

That's the thing, however. They're not.

[A wry look. Didn't you listen to him earlier?]

They fight against fate, fight against all that stands in their way. They push to make what seems impossible possible. And they do so because even if it could even end in tragedy...

[His thumb circles under her palm.]

It is better to try and try together than to let fate have its way otherwise. To not try is to let fate win.

And personally, I was never a fan of fate.

[As proven by how he went against the world until his dying breath.]

Even more so now.

[Those words come out a little quieter, his eyes now more on her.

She may be a realist, but she is also more of a pessimist, her world view too hurt and jaded to think of any hope and only thinking of the worst. In some ways rightfully so, but that is what also hinders her. Blinds her and makes her fear of it because of the hurt of it does not come to be. She has been burned and hurt so many times, it only makes sense for her to be so.

Unlike Cid who despite his own lifelong experiences will roll with his losses, accept them and build from it. It doesn't make it hurt any less, but he has learned to try and use that hurt to prevent it from happening again. Both a weakness and a strength. That is likely why he seems as an optimist and why he seems to be able to progress and take those steps forward despite the pain. Because to him, he has suffered and experienced enough losses that he's had enough, and he would rather take the chance and make the effort than roll over and let the worst have its way. Make his own choice and decision to do what he wants and think is right.

Benedikta and others may think him soft and kind because of his demeanor and actions, and they're not wrong. But he is only this way because he's had over forty long years to have seen more than most would. And even then he's still relatively young all things considered. Old enough to face hard truths, young enough to still bave the strength to try and change it.

In the end it's all cut short, but he cannot say he regrets going as far as he did. He only regrets not going farther and bringing her with him.]

[garudas]

Then... hope.

[She understands what he's saying, though... and she knows that neither of them is speaking about the characters in the story. They never were, to be honest. What she was asking was not about how their story ended, but how theirs might. Yes, she may be a pessimist and a realist, far too jaded now to see the world in any other light, to accept the hope that anyone might try to shine on her, but maybe that is why she had always clung so tightly to him. For where there is no hope for her to have, he could harbour enough to make up for them both. She remembers admiring him for that... once.

Now, she thinks it's all baseless. Not his words, but the idea of it altogether. One does not find anything simply by hoping for it. She had a long time ago, but it had thrown her into the abyss instead, and she was forced to climb and claw her way out of it.

So why do they make her heart flutter so?

She feels the touch of his thumb on her palm, warm and calloused, and she closes her fingers tighter around his, her head leaning just a bit further in his direction and her body following, her knee bumping again against his as her dress falls away from her leg.]

I suppose there is some fight left in them.

[And with a pensive look, she falls silent, her hand with his on her lap slipping out of his so that she can slide it over his knee, subtly, keeping her eyes turned to the stage to watch as the next song begins... though, whether she is listening or not...]

[ramuhs]

[It may be small, subtle, but also so very clear. And it makes him lean all that much closer to her until their heads lightly touch.]

Not just hope.

[His voice is quieter still, a low whisper against her ear that will drown out the music, the words, the applause, whatever may be happening on the stage below.]

Faith.

[Something to believe in.

His now free hand reaches for her own knee, sliding up slowly over the exposed skin.]

Strength of will.

[Slowly beneath the soft fabric as he turns just so so his lips now more firmly brush against her ear.]

...And a stubborn want and desire.

[To want something so much, so badly, that they would be willing to cast aside everything to achieve it. To become a villain to save the world.

Only now, he's done saving others. He just wants to save the one he couldn't before.]

[garudas]

[She doesn't turn to him, even when she feels him close in on her, his lips brushing right over her ear now, tickling the skin along her jaw. Her fingers tighten around his knee in a silent response, her chest hitching with a breath caught in her throat at his hand grazing over her leg.

Faith.

He says it with such ease, as if that's something that she has any room to have these days. Maybe when she was young and naïve, believed in everything that he and her king told her, but once again, she has a hard time grasping it now. It's something that he will, once again, have to carry for the both of them.

Even if there are moments when she wishes that she could. Fleeting moments to be sure, when doubt wriggles its way in, but moments all the same.

Everything else, though...

Her leg slides closer to his, exposing more and more of her skin. An invitation to him, as she keeps her eyes glued to the stage even while her attention is elsewhere.]

Does that not make them selfish?

[ramuhs]

...Perhaps they should be.

[His lips brush more against her skin, his hand traveling further and even pulls her leg so it's more over his now, more of her dress falling away.]

Be selfish enough to take what is rightfully theirs.

[Like he should have been. Should have listened to his own selfish heart instead of believing the lies and doubts. If there is one thing he will never forgive himself for, it's for letting things happen and escalate to the point it had between them. Letting himself believe it was just how it was going to be. To not do more, push more protest more.

Even if anyone else would have had the same problem, fallen the same way, unable to do anything locked in the same position he had been, that doesn't mean he still can't blame himself. So strong was that feeling of powerlessness despite having the greater "blessings" of an Eikon, and all because one man could easily snuff him out before he could try.

But not anymore. He won't hide anymore.]

[garudas]

And...?

[The word comes out short of breath, airy and light as the wind and so very quiet. Had he been any further away, he might not have heard her at all.]

This... is rightfully theirs?

[The hand that is still in his at her shoulder pulls his along, bringing it closer to her neck.

This, being them. Together. Whether she believes it with her whole heart or not yet, she cannot say for certain. Not when she's too afraid of what might be taken away from her should she allow herself to feel anything beyond what she feels now. The world has a funny way of doing that—giving her a scrap and then when she reaches out for it, snatches it away. She hates it.

But as his hand slips beneath her dress, as his voice and more importantly, his words, burrow their way into her, she finds herself wanting it anyway.]

[ramuhs]

Yes.

[There's no hesitation, and there's a deliberate use of that word—yes. As if to put more serious weight than the more casual term.

With her invitation, his fingertips slide over her neck, those little brushes of levin tickling her skin as he pushes her ever so slightly, his lips now at her neck as they brush over with each word.]

...They already lost each other once.

[His hand at her leg travels further up, tickling her inner thigh until he's just mere inches away from her center.]

They already paid that price.

[A light nip of his teeth.]

It's only fair they take what should have been theirs from the start.

[And with how much darker and lower his tone shifts, with how much more firm his touch digs into her skin and that stronger jolt of levin at her neck, a jolt hidden by her hair as it travels to hit many of her sensitive spots, it's becoming more clear he's not talking about the people on the stage or the story they're trying to represent.]

[garudas]

[That chocobo has long since left the stable, so to speak—Benedikta already knew. Had they really ever been talking about the show? It's hard not to draw the parallels still, but for her, it's easier to use these fictional characters in this story to mask her own desires, her own thoughts, her own stubborn wants. So, she keeps up the façade knowing full well that he is not so foolish to believe otherwise.

Which is fine.

Between the both of them, she is the bigger fool here.

Her head falls tips slightly, baring her neck to him, and when she feels his hand journeying further, her knees part almost instinctively for him with another sigh.

Gods, what is he doing to her?

They're supposed to be watching this opera. Appreciating the arts or some such, but here she is, appreciating the levin that dances over the back of her neck instead, grateful for the tingling heat that it leaves behind.]

... And if she is too scared to try?

[ramuhs]

[The heat of aggression slows just a touch, the fingertips at her neck slowly circling and massaging against her skin.]

Then he'll carry her until she's convinced.

[He then moves his hand at her neck to gently tilt her face back towards him where their eyes will meet.]

But he doesn't want to live in a world without her again.

[There's no use trying to hide the truth and weight of emotion behind those words, in that gaze. And he knows he may once again being too much, but... This is the truth. This is what he's been trying to say—has been saying to her all this time. And he'll keep telling her until she can finally believe in him again.]

[garudas]

[Does he feel her pulse quicken at his words beneath his fingertips, she wonders? Can he see the way her cheeks flush as he urges her to look at him, and how she doesn't hesitate to? And when their eyes meet, even in the dim lights, he will be able to see those feelings stirring. Awakening with a vengeance, as if they had been asleep at all.

He holds her captive with his gaze, enchanted really, and no matter how hard she tries to tear it away from his, she can't, lest he see the mix of fear and desire sparking bright in the ambers of her eyes.]

... And she doesn't want to be left behind again.

[Abandoned, whether it is in watching him leave or in death. She wants to survive. She wants to live... live in that world with him. She always has. It never mattered whether they were together or apart—not back then—so long as he was there, somewhere. Breathing.

Now... she's felt that shift within her already, but now, as they sit here "pretending"—though, who are they fooling?—she finds that those roots have burrowed deeper until that feeling became more intense. Almost tangible...

But no less overwhelming.

And so, she darts her eyes away from him finally.]

I suppose he has a hard fight ahead of him, in that case.

[ramuhs]

[He watches her, unable to tear his eyes away from her. Try to read what she could be feeling, the secrets she can never seem to voice. He knows it's a long road, a tough wall that he has to break through. But he can feel it—the cracks, the chips as he continues to push and try and break it down.

So he's not deterred by her words. If anything, it only makes the corner of his mouth quirk up just a fraction before his fingers shift to first brush over her jaw, to her cheek, then to thread through her hair as he cradles her face, palm warm against her.]

Aye, but he's always been one to rise to a challenge.

[Softer, quieter words, almost playful—but no less serious.]

[garudas]

[Benedikta's eyes close at his touch, and though she may have snapped her gaze away when it all had started to become too much again, she wants to still leave him with these little hints that she wants him there. That although she might pull away just a touch, tonight he is allowed to tug her back and she will accept his attempts and gestures to do so.]

Stubbornly so.

[She turns to kiss the inside of his palm, never once meeting his eyes that she knows are bearing down on her still, but his warmth is too tantalizing to let it go unnoticed or unappreciated. He'll feel her breath hot against his skin as she moves to the inside of his wrist, the brush of her lips light and fleeting before she's straightening herself out again, but her fingers wrap around his wrist to keep him where he is.]

She should not make it so easy for him.