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]

[Her laughter—full and genuine this time—rings crystal clear in her chest before her lips are descending to his jaw, brushing over his stubble and enjoying the way that it scrapes gently over her skin.]

The Vicious? [A more sarcastic, yet soft bark of laughter in his ear.] Are you not a little too soft for that? I've yet to see this "vicious" side of you to earn a moniker like that.

[But a side that she would like to see all the same in those quarters of his tonight.]

[ramuhs]

Ah, but perhaps that's my scheme. Play nice and soft to deceive my foes, and then when they least expect it I run them through.

[A smirk as he glances down at her before he suddenly turns his face so he can capture her lips with his for a quick but rough kiss.]

Maybe you'll get to see some of it tonight.

[garudas]

[Her moan is soft against his lips, pushing back with equal fervour before he's pulling away from her again, and she does chase him this time, leaving streaks of her lipstick along the corner of his already reddened lips.]

I would very much like to meet "Cid the Vicious", I think. See just how vicious he can be.

[She unhooks yet another button on his shirt so that she can slide her hand underneath.]

Now hurry, before I change my mind and steal your ship instead.

[ramuhs]

[A quiet laugh as he does end up lengthening his stride a bit.]

If you do, I'd just have to steal it back—and punish the thief.

[A light nip at her lip.]

[garudas]

Mm? And if the thief wants to be punished...?

[But she gives him no room to answer as he brings them into the captain's quarters, and there will be time enough later to have a look around and properly take it all in, because there is something else here that she would rather take in at the moment, and before he can even kick the door shut behind him, she's kissing him roughly, passionately, prying his lips open with her tongue as if she means to take the air in his lungs for herself for her next breath.

And once they are on the bed together, these fancy clothes of theirs don't last long at all, although tonight... she leaves that tie on him and that purple lace on her. He had torn it off all too quickly the last time and she was not about to let him do the same again—not when she had picked it out specifically for this, spending hours meticulously selecting a piece that she thought he would like to plunder her in. That she thought might remind him once again what he'd missed through all those years.

As she pins his hips beneath her own to the bed with his tie wrapped around her fist, their lips already wet and red and swollen from the hundreds of devouring, hungry kisses they have ravaged one another with to get here, she yanks him up to her and brings them only a hair's breadth apart.]

Now, show me what kind of captain you really are.

[ramuhs]

[The kiss is both unexpected yet not surprising, and so in the end rather than kick the door, he just lets the momentum slam his back against it, the sound of the door thudding shut a dull echo amidst the sounds they make as he allows them that initial rush before he quickly makes his way over to the bed.

Now he stares up at her, a small, low laugh rumbling from his throat as his eyes first meet hers before they flick down to her lips, to her hands, and what all he can see from this angle. He's already gotten an eyeful of her little "surprise," one he had gotten hints of back at the opera and now can fully appreciate. The thought that she chose all this on purpose comes to mind again, and he can't help but wonder if she really did. The style itself seems something in line of what she would pick for herself, too, but the color scheme... It's not lost on him.

Slowly he fingers the lace down at her hip and then up her side and chest before going down her free arm...]

Well if I'm to do that...

[He then leans in close, close enough that their noses brush against each other along with their lips. Close enough to distract her before he's grabbing her wrists and flipping her over. Pulling her arms above her head, he just bears that cocky smirk of his as he looks down at her before he pins her wrists in one hand so he can pull off the tie with the other.]

We'll need a different arrangement.

[There's a sharp sound of the silk fabric of the tie as he yanks it off, not really caring if he ruins it or not. After tonight, it won't really be usable regardless.]

[garudas]

[Despite her position, she seems to have no problem and voices no protests when he forces her onto her back. She falls, her hair fanning out around her, her laughter breathless with the thrill and the heat that race through her. And when he pins her hands over her head and rips off his tie, she lifts her chin in that same prideful, almost indignant way she does when she realizes what he intends to do with that little strip of silk.]

You'll have to make sure that it's tight.

[Her lip quirks, her eyes shine, and she gives her fingers and wrists a little stretch under his grip.]

I am not held down so easily, as you like to often remind me.

[ramuhs]

I know.

[Slowly the silk wraps around her wrists, except compared to the last time he did this, he's wrapping them in a different way—one that will certainly prove to be a challenge as she'll feel it suddenly tighten as he finishes tying the other end to one of the headboard posts.]

But if you do escape, maybe I'll reward you.

[Which is to say, he'd prefer if she did struggle and fight.]

[garudas]

Oh...

[She arches a brow up at him, and once the knot is tied, the headboard will rattle when she gives her arms a testing tug... to which she gives her hum of approval.]

A reward? And here I was thinking I was being punished...

[ramuhs]

Let's just say I can be quite generous...

[He lowers himself, now back closer to her as his eyes gleam down at her.]

...to those who prove to my liking.

[garudas]

[Her eyes take on a more round, innocent look about them, but the glint behind them and in her smile are as wicked as they come as she leans up, arching her body and spreading it wide open for him as she tries to bring her lips as close to his as possible.]

Well then, you'll have to give me a reason first.

[Her voice is soft, quiet, begging.]

Come on, dread pirate. Earn that name of yours.

[ramuhs]

[A low chuckle as his lips brush against hers.]

My pleasure.

[And earn it he does, especially when he doesn't grant her that kiss she seeks, instead nipping her lip before traveling down her jaw, neck, and further. From there he will be gentle. "Gentle" in the way as he first roams and explores every inch of her while savoring the sight she's gifted him. A sight illuminated by only the moonlight that casts down through the large windows of the cabin quarters. However, that "gentleness" can also be considered torture as he moves slowly, touch and lips lingering where they pass. Teasing her by only giving her the briefest tastes of what was to come.

Even more so whenever their eyes meet.

Despite them being together like this several times now since coming to this world, tonight it's a bit different. Tonight, it is planned, deliberate. Not a spontaneous act driven by tension and high emotions. He asked her, willingly. And she accepted, willingly. She stayed with him through the whole night. And while he knows this is still just the beginning... He cannot help but feel something about it. Feel that their chances of working out increasing.

Feel a little bit more hopeful.

A little more determined.

And that's another reason he takes his time at first, as if wanting to treat her well, like that hard sought treasure he's finally gotten in his hands. A beloved treasure he has no intentions of letting go again.

But of course, it eventually unravels, that same emotion spurring the wants and desires to have more. To take everything he can before she tries to disappear on him again. There would be no place untouched, no place unmarked by the time he's done. No place his lips haven't tasted, haven't kissed, sucked, bitten. It's as rough and passionate as all the rest, but perhaps even more so given how significant this night truly is.

A night where he once again reminds her where she really belongs. Who she really belongs to. And likewise, he to her.

Even after Benedikta frees herself they continue long into the night, scoring deep into each other and leaving their traces on and in the other until at last exhaustion claims them. A thin, gray bedsheet half covers them, their shared warmth doing the rest as he keeps his arm around her while slowly smoking a cigar to be shared between them. Yet as he breaths out the smoke, it's still her taste that lingers, her scent that fills the room.

And her warmth that still tempts him.

But that's partly why he's taking this smoke, trying to calm some of that residual adrenaline. Otherwise he really will live up to that title and not let her rest.]

[garudas]

[She should have expected that he would play these little games with her first — the kinds that leave her body twisting and aching and wanting by the time she thinks he's nearly finished with her, only for him to keep going. Not that she has any reason to be upset about it... She quite enjoys that he takes full advantage of her being laid out like this for him. Maybe she likes the way that he slowly covets her, how he lets that heat build teased with fiery kisses all across her skin. Maybe that had been one of the many reasons why she had picked something delicate to wear tonight... Something she wouldn't normally choose.

Because she wanted him to. Regardless of how much he continues to chase and chase, she still wishes to be the thing he desires most. That moth that he is, and she no longer the dark, but the light he is drawn to within it.

And she lets him, Benedikta's body completely yielded to him. She struggles against the silk around her wrists, sure, but it is all for play, a move meant to provoke him into a punishing nip or graze of his teeth.

Deep down, however, it is to chase away any feelings that might threaten to take root deeper in her than what she is ready for. Tonight had been more than what Benedikta had bargained for in more ways than she can count or is willing to admit. Between the quiet, shared moments on the terrace to those in the carriage, to the private, intimate beats at the opera as the music and din of applause turned to noise under the rumbles of his tenor, it was more than just the "dinner and the opera" that she was promised.

And while she has no regrets in ending up here, on his ship, in his bed beneath him and at his complete and utter mercy, those tides of emotions—regrets, pains, and wishes—that come and go are so violent that she fears she might run if she lets herself feel them for too long.

But eventually, even he has to give in at some point to his baser desires, and she gladly follows right behind him into this maddening descent that they always find themselves tumbling into without fail.

And it all becomes easier from there. Simpler. Where emotions recede and leave room for only their instincts to take over.

With her hands freed, she takes her turn to covet every inch of him, her mouth and fingers exploring him as he did her. As if this is the first and the last time that they might ever have each other like this.

As if she means to burn every little part of his essence, his aether, him into her.

And what had once started as gentle and deliberate completely and quickly unravels as it tends to between them. Just like everything else within her does when she is with him. Her sense of control all but gone, thrown to the winds under his demands, under his wishes...

How late into the night it becomes, she doesn't know, but by the time she lays her head on his chest, her body hot and exhausted, filled and satiated, the moon is at its peak and its rays spill through the windows to bathe them in its glow, filtering through the windows to paint him in an almost ethereal way as he takes a drag of that cigar once more, the red flame at its end a stark contrast to the paleness of the moon.

And gods, he has never looked as beautiful as he does now, sweat still lining his brow and his body tangled up with hers in the thin sheet draped around them.

So much so that Benedikta doesn't realize just how hard she's staring at him, watching from where she rests stretched out over him, as his lips press to that cigar...]

[ramuhs]

[He's lost in thought for a moment—or perhaps not even thought. Just the moment. But when he feels her gaze still on him, he glances over at her quirks a grin, cigar still between his teeth as he brushes his hand over her disheveled bangs.]

Want a turn?

[garudas]

[Even when he catches her and brushes her hair back, she doesn't look away, and instead lets her eyes flit to the cigar between his teeth.

...

Before she silently takes it from him and brings it to hers, savouring his taste on the end of it as it rests against her tongue, and allowing herself to stretch out before she blows the smoke into the air away from him.]

You are going to need a bigger bed.

[ramuhs]

[A small laugh.]

Bit of a tall order. Only have so much space to work with, not to mention you won't want a huge bed sliding around during rough seas.

Besides.

[He curls his arm up more around her to bring her closer.]

Nothing wrong with being cozy.

[garudas]

[Sliding right up to him until she's half on top of him again, she glances around the room before she gently places the cigar between his lips again.]

You could make it work. Just get rid of that god-awful desk.

[She's mostly teasing. Mostly.]

[ramuhs]

You say that now, but you haven't tried it yet.

[He says with a smirk and an arch of a brow, the cigar between his lips moving playfully.

It's a large size for a reason—

Okay no, he genuinely prefers large, heavy oak desks for work use, but there are certainly other uses for it.]

[garudas]

[She arches a brow. It's true... she always did like that large oak desk he had in his chambers in Waloed for reasons that did not involve any sort of work.]

Should we be testing it?

[ramuhs]

It does need breaking in.

[garudas]

That sounds like a favour.

[A soft breath of a laugh, and she brings her lips to his collarbone to press a kiss there.]

Buy me a drink first.

[ramuhs]

[A low chuckle as he finally takes that smoke, savoring the fresh taste she left behind before he slowly releases it outward.]

What if I already have something on hand?

[garudas]

Then I guess you'd better go fetch me a glass. This may be your last chance.

[Except that her leg locks around his, just in case he's thinking of getting up out of bed to grab whatever it might be. She isn't ready to get up just yet.]

[ramuhs]

[A wry grin as he feels that leg hooking around him.]

Bit difficult with you clinging onto me, love.

[garudas]

[That makes her heart flutter in her chest.

Because while she is still too afraid to commit to that, still too hurt, his names for her had never failed to make her heart beat just a little faster. Never failed to make her want him just a little more, regardless of what it was he decided to call her.]

If you are so keen on giving me that drink in return for helping, I'm certain you could manage.

[Yet, she moves so that she's a bit more on top of him, and she takes the cigar from his lips for a turn.]