tem·pest noun: tempest; plural noun: tempests a violent windy storm."a raging tempest";

Independent roleplay blog for Benedikta Harman from Final Fantasy XVI. Written by Vonny.

Sideblog to @fire-branded ; Follows will come from there.

Sleipnir quirks a brow when the pipe is offered, something of a sly grin appearing on their face. “Ah, so you've decided to be nice to me today?” they tease, plucking it from her grasp and taking a slow drag before handing it back. “What's the occasion?”

The woman was eyed with skepticism; she was remembered, and not quite so fondly at that. And yet, were they not now treading through uncharted territory, with everything they had once known and been torn asunder?

She seemed as worn as he, and Lucius felt himself unable to cling to the anger and suspicion as he once had done.

He was tired. So instead of sending her away, he gestured toward the garden, fenced off and just beginning to become overgrown.

"There's weeds that must be pulled. In return, you'll have hot meals and a bed."

Making demands || Accepting

“Oh, what could I possibly say, Bena? Saying that I told you so would be impossibly cruel, and yet…”

Sleipnir trails off and smirks, tilting their head. They know they have no reason to be jealous when Barnabas sets his eyes on another, for it'll only be a matter of time before he returns to Sleipnir's waiting arms. It's inevitable, connected as they are, and while they certainly care for Benedikta, they can't help but rub it in. Just a little bit.

“Don't take it personally. You know how fickle His Majesty is. Besides, you're quite the lovely girl.” They grin, playfully nudging their hips together. “Don't give me that look! You didn't listen to me, so now, maybe you'll listen to me next time.”

That  feeling  of  being  WATCHED  LIKE  A  HAWK  always  scared  him.  Yet,  his  head  tilted  to  see  the  blonde,  glaring.  Was  he  going  to  get  hit?  Or  hurt?  Or  stabbed?  All  the  wonderful  possibilities.  Smirking,  he  pointed  at  himself  and  tilted  his  head.

Call me a sinner || Accepting

Sleipnir snorts, absently stirring their tea around as they look out the window. “No, I suppose it doesn't,” they muse, glancing back over at Benedikta with an amused expression. “Which is why His Majesty wants to spread the word of the Lord so quickly. The more we take under his wing, the stronger we become.” Even if Sleipnir doesn't sound entirely enthused. For them, Barnabas is their god, nothing else, but they can play the game for his sake.

A beat of silence, and then…"Benna, if I could have a moment of honesty with you, I do worry about him." It's not like Sleipnir to be vulnerable, to come clean about any emotions they might be feeling. It's hard for them to put words to it, still learning about just what being human means. “I understand religious fervor, of course, and I would follow him to the ends of the world. I would do as he says until he could ask no more of me, but…it feels odd, doesn't it? Or perhaps I am thinking too hard, hm? Maybe it's nothing, after all."

Clearly the woman was not amused, and it showed in both her expression and her tone. The pipe perched expertly between her fingers was shifted away from her pursed lips, and Benedikta released a slow exhale of smoke in the other Dominant's direction. When her head turned away, the look she bore was one of clear disdain.

"You are not your Eikon, you imbecile. You are yourself, firstly; you are merely the Eikon's Dominant. Just think of Bahamut as your imaginary friend, if you want to make yourself feel better."

Perhaps he'd fallen a bit too deep within a bottle of spirits, leaving him in very poor spirit. Poor enough spirit that perhaps he'd allowed some of the carefully-guarded bitterness to slip past a facade of absolute perfection.

Conceal, don't feel--

"You say such things, and yet you would not allow a man a moment's peace to bemoan the abject misery of his very birth? You are a cruel one, Garuda." And yet, the second the Eikon's name left his lips instead of 'Benedikta'--a habit--Dion found himself almost cringing at himself.

The day was certainly not his day.

"Thank you for your kind words." His tone softened with a sigh.