escordvi | 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

Very well.

[And she will waste no time at all. Quite literally. With a single strong beat of her wings, Benedikta is taking off with Faris in tow, held up only by the claw that flies at her side. She is fast—and might be moving a bit faster than she would normally in retaliation of Faris ordering her around—so she hopes that he's holding on!

It won't take them long to reach land, at any rate, and she will be kind enough to set him down on the rocky shore before that claw dissipates into the air in particles of aether. Her semi-primed form disappears as well, the wings vanishing in the same manner as the claw had, and everything about her returns to normal. She'd rather not waste her energy unless they run into something.

Looking around, her expression hardens.]

It's almost too quiet now.

[Oh, god. This is NOTHING like a wind drake. Because you know what? A wind drake actually cares about the people it's carrying and not trying to make them airsick on purpose. It's a damn good thing Faris' long years at sea have given him an ironclad stomach, otherwise it--and probably the gallbladder and the spleen too--would be making a very determined effort to escape.

He can't help but stagger a little when Benedikta finally sets him down. Hopefully the lightshow from her transformation hid his discomfort.]

...Aye. Not a sound by the winds. [Day or night, there are always creatures on the move in the great enterprise of survival.

Unless, of course, there's something so terrible about that those left alive can only hide...

That's not helping.

Drawing his sword, he sets forth--decisively, but still with due caution.] If it's a dead captain's treasure, it's going to be buried deep in enough to be safe from tides and casual raiders. Let's try that woodland first.

[Thanks to his bond with the ancient Thief, he has an eye for hidden things--hopefully that should speed along their search.

[It didn't, but she gives no word of her noticing. It's a given, and it wouldn't be the first time, and surely not the last.

But her focus is pulled to the island ahead of them. This very, very dead looking island. She steps through the sand, and it's almost more a gray colour than the usual white or... sandy colour. Like they are walking on ash. Her eyes turn to the trees at Faris's suggestion, and she isn't the type to argue, especially when—]

You sound like you know your treasure hunting.

[Off she goes to the lines of thick trees.]

Treasure hunting. Dead places on the sea, as well.

[They are not great places to treasure hunt. And the Ship's Graveyard didn't have any real treasure, just the eminently practical world map sitting on a dead captain's table. But the difference here is that they have an actual lead to go on.

The trees, as they get closer, are alike to the sand--what leaves are left on them are draggled and dry. Branches hang off them at strange angles, and the bark seems to be peeling away. And it's dry underfoot, too. His boots shuffle and crackle through fallen leaves and dry herbs.] Bloody hell, even the mushrooms abandoned this island.

[Benedikta eyes the trees with disgust.]

Well. I will trust your judgment, then. I am more used to tracking people than searching for treasure.

[More twigs snap under her boots, but she kicks them aside.]

We will need to be light-footed and keep our ears sharp. Something tells me we have not heard from the last of our wolfish friends quite yet.

[Faris nods. It's nice to have his own talents acknowledged, and a little reassuring after that display of raw power that there's something he's more skilled at than she is.]

Aye. The dead too rarely remain that way.

[He presses on nonetheless, ignoring the eerie effect of the shadows as he chooses his steps with care.

And just as Benedikta predicted, they're not alone here--a snapping twig makes Faris whirl 'round, drawing his sword, and grimace when he sees what snapped it. At one time it was a who. The taggered rags were once a striped shirt and sailor's slops, and they snag on twigs and roots as he drags himself towards them. His mad eyes and the rusted dagger in his hand make it clear that as unfit as he is to fight, he's still intent on violence.]

...Poor bastard. [Faris backs away.] I don't know if he can even chase us if we power-walk away from him.

Chase us?

[Benedikta arches a brow and eyes Faris through her peripheral, her own hand settling on the pommel of her sword as she simply watches that man unflinchingly from where she stands. He's slow moving, and they very well could out-walk him if they wished, but—]

Why not simply put him out of his misery?

[Faris bristles. It's not a wholly irrational suggestion. He knows that. The guy looks pretty far gone... but so have others that the curse has seized.]

Let's wait until we lift the curse before we do anything that dramatic. I don't want to explain that we killed someone because we thought he was all the way gone and find out we needn't have.

[Benedikta just rolls her shoulder in a shrug, as if she didn't just consider killing the man. It's a sad fact of life, that, but she concedes after a moment of eyeing him. She will, however, blast him back in a funnel of wind, sending him back into the water where he probably came from. That will at least buy them some time to get away from him and onto the island proper without a cursed man on their tail.]

So.

[Such nonchalance.]

What sorts of things should I be watching for on a treasure hunt?

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

i laughed so hard, i'm so sorry faris

HAHAHA I'm glad

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