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open 🪶 the world owes me a debt, and i've come to collect.
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
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?]
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
⚡ for cidolfus » she lost a bet.
( stop calling it a date. )
[Meet at the overlook of Elah's pier after sunset, first Saturday of the month, he had said.
And although they had seen each other in the time between the day they sealed this deal and now, she spent every waking moment of them, as well as every other, thinking about today. She doesn't know why, it's not as though she means to make a bigger deal out of it than she should, or a big deal at all. A dinner is a dinner and nothing more, and this would not be the first time that they've eaten a meal together. It was him who kept calling it something that it was not, and him who kept making her overthink things. Him, who made her dress up and come all the way here.
She could have, and probably should have simply refused. Called off the bet regardless of who won. It was an unfair fight anyway, she tells herself, as she perfects her eyeliner in the mirror on board the ship she rode to get there. Garuda was awake and loud, she tells herself, as she straightens out the short hairs that frame her face. She was distracted, she tells herself, as she slides on the finishing touch—the pendant that sits nicely against her collarbone.
All the things that she tells herself, as she makes her way up to that overlook.
Like a fool, she agreed to this, and like a fool, she is here.
As she makes her way up, her heels click far too loud against the wooden steps, the sound of the ocean is too loud, the stars in the sky are too bright with all of her senses heightened and her mind all abuzz. She is completely distracted by the fluttering in her stomach as she arrives on the topmost landing that she does not even realize the sharp twinge in the back of her neck that might have given him away, and instead chalks it up to her nerves getting the best of her.
Up here, where she can see the very last remnants of the sunset far off in the distance, the wind is colder, stronger, saltier, but she prefers it this way as she pulls the fur scarf closer around her shoulders. She makes her way to the edge, leaning over the rails to look down, and out, but her mind is elsewhere, lost someplace out in that sea.
... Because what the hell is she doing?
Only months ago, she would have balked at the idea of something like this. Laughed in his face. Spit in it, even. The mere idea of spending a moment with Cidolfus would have made her skin crawl with disgust, both because of how much she would wish for it, and how much she would hate it. And now, here she is, dressed to the fucking nines in the nicest dress she could find, made up to look like Elah's rich.
She hates what he has made her become in all but a few short months. Hates that he can so easily turn her to putty in his hands. Hates that she still wants him enough that she agreed to this at all. Hates that her heart thunders rapidly in her chest as she stares out to the water. Hates the butterflies in her stomach as she waits for him.
Hates that, even after all this time, she still seeks his hand. Still needs him in inexplicable ways that she does not care to reflect upon.
And in part, hates him for all of it.
Yet, here she is, in spite of herself. This fucking man is truly going to be the death of her.
Especially because she knows that it isn't just a "dinner" tonight. She may be a fool for being here, but she is not so thoughtless to believe that he did not have more planned. He'd lured and reeled her in, and he would butter her up because he is a bastard with a penchant for pressing her buttons and worse, a talent for making her soft.
At least she would see to it that she would make his jaw drop to the floor when he sees the dress (among the other things) that she has picked out for the night.
Closing her eyes against the cold wind that blows past her, she leans over the rails and takes in a deep breath, hoping that the scents of the ocean will calm her. They don't, and the sight of the sunset only serves to intensify them, the butterflies beating against her insides that she wonders if they are trying to escape. Pesky little things.
She whips around, the sight of the setting sun one that she cannot bear to look at anymore. Instead, she reaches into her clutch and pulls out that small compact mirror that she had found in her bag the next morning after that Ghoul's Moon festival. Cidolfus, that sneaky fox, had slipped it in there when she hadn't been looking... She distracts herself by checking her hair, her eyeliner, her lipstick... And, glancing over the mirror out to the cityscape that looms in front of her, she searches for and finds not a sign of him.]
You're late, Cidolfus.
[Impatient as ever, she mutters under her breath and a click of her tongue.]
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ii - bish?
[ Actually, he happened to be here by chance. Of course he's also heard about the whole stealing from a ship thing. Naturally, G'raha isn't interested. Now he would be all right with going out and fetching some artifacts or the like, but actual theft?
...Okay that's not quite accurate. It would entirely depend on the circumstances. Would he take a book from a library that he needed? Of course. A spell or an item if it meant that he could use it for the greater good. ]
Now what have we been up to, hmm?
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iii poke n prance/wildcard as plotted C:
Of course, it comes as no surprise that most would either have to be mad or inebriated to ever agree to this. She keeps to herself, mostly, as she watches how the sailors boast about their accuracy and prowess of stabbing but not killing. It also occurs to her that her knowledge is rather lacking in this manner. If she ever wanted to incapacitate someone but not kill them, she'd use the pommel of her blade against their temple, not its lethal edge. The people of Nogard are far more extreme...!! As she observes those gathered, it seems they're treating it more like a game than an exercise in knowing human anatomy.
Rem slumps a few centimeters on the table, propping her head up with a hand to her cheek as she watches two other sailors begin to engage in a spar. Oof. This might get bloody. She doesn't like it, and the twist of her lips betrays her queasiness. Still, she stays. If nothing else, she can offer to heal the injured, but if one of those sailors dies, then...
Lost in both thought and focus, she doesn't notice another pull up a barstool to her table. ]
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1/2
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iv
He hears Benedikta's roar of outrage just as he himself has to sock a man full in the jaw to keep him at bay. It's an unpleasant feeling in Faris' gut. He doesn't want to hurt anyone. He's had enough experience with spells and curses and possessions.
But there's not much for it. He snatches up a handy belaying pin and backs up towards Benedikta.]
Take the helm and I'll keep 'em at bay.
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i laughed so hard, i'm so sorry faris
HAHAHA I'm glad
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bite-sized blessings 🐉
Hey, looks like someone likes you.
[Zack quirks an eyebrow as he comes upon Benedikta there just as that little baby dragon flies up into the air to avoid her grappling hands.]
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1/2
2/2
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i!
Now, now! That's no way to treat a lady, is it?
[The rather cheerful scolding appears to be for the dragon rather than Benedikta, despite her sharp response to its bite, and that wave of his hand conjures a small circle of colored, swirling lights but a few inches from where the dragon has been darting and weaving, avoiding her grasp. Even if only for a moment, it seems to draw the creature's attention, giving Gale the opportunity to look to her with concern.]
Are you alright, miss? No harm done, I hope.
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Goose: The Reckoning
Ah Benedikta, it just so happens that goose has returned.
[ Is that really a joke from the prince? Yes, yes it is. Obviously he knows she's seen it. Joking aside, he's already drawing his halberd.
That goose? Toast. ]
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i.
1. That's the baby dragon people are looking for!
2. Benedikta needs her help!
The latter takes priority. She's only met the other woman the one time, but she left a powerful impression on March. If she manages to snag the dragon in the process, all the better.
Shooting a six-phased ice arrow is too dangerous, given how close the dragonette is flying to Benedikta's head, so she goes for a good old-fashioned lunge.]
I've got it!
[It flies upward, and March tumbles forward to the ground empty-handed.]
...or not.
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bite sized blessings | slowly collects the ff16 cast
[Kaveh is not at this moment certain if he is asking this woman or the dragon.]
gotta catch us all!
people who are about to make an absolutely fantastic first impression: kaveh
benedikta is impossible mode for any sort of good first impressions :D
it's fine kaveh's used to this
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i. forever late
Look, a tasty hand. Why don't you chew on that for a while?
[ The "teen" is offering out her hand to the tiny dragon. ]
never late! 💚
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iia.
She's all show without any substance.
[big but not much else.]
The construction doesn't look terrible from what I can see, but it's nothing any true sailor would give a second look at. [how disappointing.] I understand that elaborate craftsmanship and black market seldom go hand-in-hand, but investing proper funds in crafting a vessel truly worthy of the blackmarket isn't beyond their means.
[it's almost like a child grumbling about a toy not living up to expectations. but also, how can he not judge this! the blackmarket has the means to go above and beyond with their ships. there's ways to make it extravagant without it drawing too much unwanted attention! the van eltia has managed it that and then some so the black market damn well can, too!!]
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