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

Entry tags:

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

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!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I could.

[A low laugh.]

But will you?

[He could pull back right now. But not before teasing her, fingering that lace and roving very close to that soft flesh, letting only another spark of levin to tease her before he starts withdraw, fingertips digging into her skin as he slowly drags them back...]

[Another sound, this one just a touch louder and more aggressive when he sends that spark leaping through the space between her parting thighs. She should throw him over the balcony for this—he had wanted to bring her here, had planned all of this out, and had somehow managed to convince her to not leave after the free dinner, and despite all of that, he has her pinned to the couch, the opera all but forgotten to the both of them.

Yet, here she is, allowing him to.

Urging him. Tempting him, she knows.

And when he starts to withdraw his hand, she won't let him get far. Her fingers snap around his wrist, and she presses his palm into her thigh, her head tipping back enough that she can see his face, and so that he can see that pining across hers.]

I could.

[A slight teasing echo of his own answer.]

But if I didn't know any better...

[She leans up to brush her lips over his jaw anyway first before she presses them more firmly to his cheek, leaving behind the light print of red lipstick there—]

I'd say you were trying to test me.

[—before moving to the other side and doing the same.]

[A playful grin as he lightly taps her skin with his fingertips, as if teasing and playing with her attempts, almost tickling her instead. Almost.]

And if I were?

Then...

[And now to his lips where she pauses just sort of a featherlight touch, but her heel digs in just a little further into the back of his thigh, forcing him to press more of his weight onto her.]

... You are fighting a losing battle. Were you not the one who started all this?

[A low chuckle as he just light brush his lips against hers, keeping that same distance as he only shifts just enough for her to feel more of his weight over her.]

Depends. The fact that you're being very encouraging means it's working.

[And now a hand will run down the length of her neck to her shoulder, to slip that strap down before sliding down to the side of her chest to start pulling down the fabric there.]

[There's some applause from the other side of the balcony walls, and Benedikta lets his words set in in the meantime, waiting for the noise to die down before she hums, almost pleased with herself when he's the one who pulls at her dress. And she'll reward him with a fidget of his tie, and the button that she had popped open earlier in the night.]

Whatever gave you the impression that I was encouraging anything? These are your hands working my dress and laces, not mine.

Hm, that's true. I suppose it is my loss then.

[Said with a cheeky smile, as if to say this is a loss he doesn't mind taking.]

Or I could just stop right here.

[Here, where he's already pulled the top of her chest to the point where just another tug and she would completely exposed, his hand already slipping in to palm the side of her breast as another thread of levin escapes past his fingertips.]

[Her body arches up to meet his, that lightning meticulously threading through every nerve in her chest and then back again, and that along with the heat and firmness of his palm leaves her half-laughing, half-gasping in response.

Founders, she hates him for this.]

I don't think you have the fortitude... my dear.

Only one way to find out, love.

[And in this case, he may be using that term in a more cheeky manner than his usual genuine endearment, but it could be a mix of both. Regardless, it is difficult to pull back now, no doubt about it. But the thought of her being flustered and wanting may make up for it, and so with a devlish smirk he just flicks her peak with his thumb, sending another tantalizing jolt of levin there as another strikes her between her legs before he starts pulls back completely. ]

[Cheeky or not, it makes her heart flutter all the same.

She had been calling his bluff, thinking that it would simply goad him more into whatever this little game of theirs is, so when he starts to pull back, there's a forlorn sound, both out of pleasure and at the loss, but that is all the protest she makes as she lets him leave her. Benedikta remains where she is, watching him, her leg still hooked firmly at his waist, her hair still tossed back...]

I'm impressed.

[She gives him a haughty laugh and leans back further against the arm of the seat, not bothering to fix the strap of her dress, and it only slides further down her arm with her movements. She knows exactly how she looks right now.]

Finally going to watch the show?

I'm watching a show.

[He doesn't move completely off her, content to still remain lying on top. But now his hands are free, her dress a mess of being half off and half on, and he just props his elbow against the backrest of the couch and leans his head against his hand.]

[She grins up at him, so very pleased with herself.]

This is only the preview.

[Another toss of her head, and she adjusts her leg so that she bares more of her skin, stretching it out along the length of the couch now.]

If you want the rest, you will have to pay up.

And what means of payment would the madam desire?

[She looks him straight in his eyes, and without a single ounce of doubt or fear or teasing—]

A kiss.

[A plain and simple answer that she is not afraid to give him. A want that she has been craving since the one that they shared outside of the restaurant, and then again on this balcony when she had looked at him.

Just one kiss.]

[...Hmmm...

There's a gleam in his eyes as they immediately move to her lips...but instead.]

Like so?

[He takes her hand and kisses it, that playful smile never leaving him.]

[She sighs, the exhale playfully dramatic, when he takes her hand instead.]

Close.

[A slight, teasing roll of her eyes, and with a light shrug of her shoulder, that strap falls even further.]

But that will not get you very far.

Hm...

[He looks at her from over her wrist before he gently sets it down...

...

To reach back and grab her leg, bending it up so that his lips can brush against the top of her knee.]

Here?

[And then as slow travel down the inside of her thigh. Not too far just yet, just a quiet kiss or two.]

[Her head falls back further in spite of herself, that little bit of control easing up just a bit—enough that she feels a heat rush between her legs and where his lips press to her skin, all of it feeling like little pools of fire being poured over her.

But she'll slowly draw her leg back, an attempt to take it away from him, and in the process, he will catch a proper glimpse of what she's picked to wear underneath—something lacy and purple and far too delicate for someone like her.]

No. And that is far more than what you've paid for.

[He catches that glimpse, and it has certainly made him interested. As well as briefly wonder if she chose it on purpose for tonight. For him.

But it's a brief wonder as he just eyes her for a moment before he leans back forward.]

Well when you leave it very vague...

What is vague about it?

[She remains steadfast in her position, her eyes following him without inching away while he closes in on her again, nearly caging her against the couch. More applause from down below—has another song already passed?—and she waits for it to finish once more, letting that pause build some of that tension.]

I thought my answer was fairly straightforward.

[Only now does she tip herself forward to meet him, propping herself on her hands instead of her elbows, as she brings her face closer to his.]

You only said a kiss.

[His eyes continue gleam with mischief and amusement as he watches her lean forward towards him.]

But you didn't say where.

[And after acting as if he would give her a proper kiss, there's a smirk before he ducks his head to attack her lower neck instead, close to her collarbone before moving to continue downward.]

[This cheeky bastard...

And of course she can't say no to that either, especially when he knows exactly where all the right spots are to make her melt in his palm.]

Where does one place a proper kiss, do you think?

[Her hand comes up to card through his hair, fingers tangling through it to gently tug and guide him to one of those places where she craves his mouth.]

[He enjoys that touch, and he'll move easily with her at that tug, eyes still shining.]

...Hm...where indeed...

[Again he eyes her lips, and with her guidance he's much closer.

But—]

Here?

[He pecks her forehead.]

Here?

[And then her cheek.]

Maybe here?

[And her nose—all in quick succession and with each word getting closer and closer to breaking into laughter.]

[She closes her eyes, her nose crinkling when he starts peppering her face with kisses.]

Stop it—!

[She tries to interrupt him, but her protest is weak at best, huffy at worst, and the time she can, he's already finished and she can hear that he is trying so, so very hard to stifle that laugh she knows is held in his chest.]

Do not make me beg for it, Cidolfus.

Hmm, but I do like the sound of your voice when you do.

[A low voice as he now kisses near her chin, right beneath her lower lip.]

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