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Intelligentsia Guild Database

IPC Members

Name: Aventurine

Profile: Senior Manager of the Strategic Investment Department at the IPC and Member of the Ten Stonehearts. Cornerstone: Aventurine of Stratagems. For additional information and history, see Egyhazo Aventurine Case.

[...]

PERSONAL NOTES

Comment from DR. RATIO : The Egyhazo Aventurine Case shed light on the foolishness of many of my supposed peers, and most refused to have anything to do with this new collaborator from the IPC. While the Corporation is tedious, greedy and often an obstacle to furthering interstellar knowledge, they are also an unavoidable ally. This particular individual has at least already demonstrated some amount of wit, further proving my colleagues' lack of insight. Let’s at least hope this meeting isn’t a total waste of time. 

Reminder : Pick up bath salts before heading home.

[...]

NEW ENTRY

2 hours later

PERSONAL NOTES

Highlighted section from employee profile of AVENTURINE OF STRATAGEMS : 

“Avgin” means “honey” in the Sigonian language. This is a commonplace derogatory term emphasizing the cunning, persuasive and treacherous nature of the Avgins.

This perception is not entirely baseless, as the Avgins possess naturally appealing features, captivating eyes, and exceptional emotional intelligence borderline that of sorcery, enabling them to easily win the favor of strangers. This inborn talent helps them to navigate between major clans and ethnic groups, effortlessly obtaining whatever they desire — though mostly resorting to less-than-legal means. Nowadays, the Avgins have gained notoriety throughout the entire universe as smugglers, stowaways, swindlers, gamblers, thieves, robbers, and occasional social butterflies.

Comment from DR. RATIO : This is not a “social butterfly” or even a “swindler”, this is a madman. Gambler admittedly is accurate, but only in the same manner that a planet exploding can be called a spark. I am once again reminded that mental acuity is nothing without philosophical wisdom and a healthy mind. Even ignoring the blatant prejudice, this description of the Avgins is almost completely inaccurate. This man… nothing written here was warning enough. My hands are still trembling

Reminder : Review the entry for “Avgin” in the Intelligentsia Guild database, and suggest a more accurate and fair one.

“Gambler, what exactly are you doing here?”

“Morning doc!” Aventurine grinned. Both his hands were occupied, so he made sure to smile wide and smug in lieu of waving. Judging by the way Ratio squinted at him, he found it appropriately annoying, which was as funny as it always was. Ratio’s reactions to Aventurine’s little tricks always put him in a good mood. That, and perhaps the doctor himself, if he allowed himself to be a little honest in the privacy of his own mind. It was a good day when he saw the doctor before even starting work.

“... Good morning, or it had the potential to be. Do you possess the ability to answer questions without being prompted a second time?” Ratio stared at him flatly, but he’d turned away from his screen, attention entirely on him, and his shoulders had already relaxed just a little.

“So prickly this morning, is this what happens when you’re so swamped with work that you need to cancel dinner with your favourite corporation-assigned partner? Not only am I here even though I was stood up yesterday, but I even brought coffee for that rude individual, out of concern and the goodness of my own heart. Truly, you should count yourself lucky doc, not everyone is as much of a saint as I am.”

“If you’ve come to this place dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge with the sole purpose of sullying it with nonsense, I will have to ask you to promptly vacate the premises, before more forceful methods are employed.”

“Aw, are you saying you’d get forceful with me, doc? I wouldn’t mind seeing that.” Aventurine threw in an exaggerated wink just to see that finely-tuned eye roll, and it worked just as expected. While the doc was distracted with doing a perfect run with his pupils in a truly hilarious display, the Stoneheart quickly crossed the few steps between him and the desk and set down the tall, still very hot cup of coffee in front of its recipient. Said recipient stared at it like it was an alien curio once he was done properly expressing his exasperation. 

“You… actually brought me coffee.”

Aventurine raised an eyebrow.

“Did you think it was a lie?”

“Not… necessarily. But perhaps.”

“Aww but doc, you know I wouldn’t do that to you!”

“You would, but that is irrelevant. What I meant is I thought that… well. Perhaps you… Hm.”

Aventurine blinked twice.

“Hm?”

Ratio cleared his throat, his shoulders back up to where they were when Aventurine entered even though they’d steadily lost tension over the course of the conversation. Aventurine tsk’d internally. Wasted efforts.

“That is to say, gambler, it was a simple conjecture I entertained for a moment that you, hypothetically, brought up coffee as an excuse, a distraction, to come, frivolously, only to… bother me at my place of work.”

Aventurine blinked two more times.

“Ratio, I came here to see you. The coffee’s a bonus, not an excuse.”

Ratio stared back at him stoically, but Aventurine watched in growing wonder as something truly unexpected happened. Starting from the neck, a creeping, glowing, unmistakable redness spread over the doctor’s face up to his ears. It felt like a revelation. That wink earlier had gotten this kind of reaction from many over the years, but this was what Ratio was weak to? And he only learned it now?

“Ratio—”

“You mentioned hearing about a fortune teller with eerily accurate prophecies that always ended in tragedies a little while ago, I happened to hear a few things about it through a colleague. This might be a chance for you to engage in a more intellectually stimulating conversation than you’re used to, so how about you take advantage of this opportunity? You might not always be so lucky.”

There were so many things to say. Ratio was still beet red, which was a perfect contrast with his serious face, and he was holding his coffee close, like it was warming him up. But Aventurine did want to hear what he had to say, and so he swallowed the ‘Oh, it’s always stimulating with you, professor’ that rose up instinctually and moved closer instead, sitting down in a comfortable chair close to Ratio’s desk (good thing he got new ones, the old ones were atrocious to sit in). He turned toward his dear colleague with an expectant look, but the doctor’s eyes were on his desk, his redness slow to fade (delightfully). Still, before Aventurine could teasingly prompt him, he opened his mouth.

“I apologize for cancelling on you yesterday because of work, it… was disappointing for me too, and so I appreciate your visit this morning. I always… appreciate your visits.”

Ratio then busied himself with papers laying on his desk, skin once again radiating heat, but Aventurine was in no state to tease him. His own skin felt hot, too tight, and he could feel his stomach maddeningly twisting into knots. How inconvenient. Inconvenient, impossible and terrible but also, perhaps, a little pleasant. A little warm. 

Maybe he wouldn’t exploit this newly-discovered weakness after all. 

It might not end well for him. 

PERSONAL NOTES 

Highlighted section from mission debrief : [...]

Comment from DR. RATIO : I’ve said it before, but this is a madman. Illogical and without sense, impossible to reason with. And yet, somehow, it worked. Not without some truly unnecessary risks and collaterals, but it worked. Still, somehow, all this chaos avoided my own self. This… damn gambler.

Reminder : Think on a better way to reason with the unreasonable.

“Back already?”

Aventurine turned his head, peering over his sunglasses to watch Topaz walk up to him from behind. The dislike on her face barely distorted her features, but it was definitely there. It was probably the easiest emotion for Aventurine to discern now, along with desire.

“Why, Topaz, were you eagerly awaiting my return, or simply enjoying the time I was away?” he teased.

“Neither, don’t give yourself too much importance. I simply read the preliminary report on the mission, and it was predicted to take a few more days at least to resolve.”

“Well, what can I say? The doc decided to put in some effort, and I certainly didn’t slack off, you know. Nothing more to it than efficiency and talent.”

Topaz raised an eyebrow, surprised enough by something he said that she didn’t even bother rolling her eyes.

“The doc? Did you get a replacement consultant already?”

Aventurine blinked slowly.

“... No? Why would I need a replacement?”

It was Topaz’s turn to blink now, and she didn’t hide her astonishment. 

“Wait. You mean you’re still working with Dr. Ratio? Rather, he’s still working with you?”

“... Yes? Why, did you hear something that implied otherwise?”

“Well, no, nothing except, well… you.”

“Me?” Aventurine felt his eyebrows go up despite himself. It’s true he wasn’t known to be very cooperative with his assigned partners, to put it lightly, and hadn’t necessarily been delicate about it in the past. But Ratio? Ratio was— well. Ratio wasn’t like those, and Aventurine couldn’t think of anything he might’ve done recently to indicate he wanted a change in his assigned consultant. 

Topaz continued, unaware of Aventurine’s thoughts.

“Not you per se, but just… You. As a person. I’m surprised he lasted this long, to be honest.”

“Wow, rude much?”

“Did you, or did you not at some point force that man into a deeply uncomfortable position to see how he’d react?”

He remembered the cold feeling of the barrel of a gun in his hand, and the repeated clicking of empty chambers resonated in his ears. 

“How is that relevant, exactly?”

Topaz shook her head.

“That poor man,” she sighed. “He didn’t know what he was in for when he was assigned to you. Maybe I should buy him a drink, honestly, for lasting this long. I can’t help but be impressed.”

“The good doctor has refined tastes, I’m afraid he doesn’t really drink much. And really, give me, and him, some credit. He’s doing just fine, or just as you said, he’d be gone already,” he said with a picture perfect smile. 

Rarely had his eyes been this cold with this particular coworker, though. 

She snorted.

“I don’t think ‘just fine’ can be used to describe anyone working this closely with you, to be honest. Especially someone like him, from what I’ve seen he definitely seems like the type to dislike anything illogical ro frivolous, which is why it’s commendable that he’s gotten this far. I haven’t gotten the chance to speak with him, but maybe once you two split up I could offer him—”

“Topaz.”

She blinked at him. Aventurine would usually abide by courtesy rules in conversations unless directly attacked or in a conflict, even when his actual words were anything but polite. So him cutting her off like this, without any provocation, was highly unusual. Still, he was smiling, but that really didn’t say much. 

“While I’m sure Dr. Ratio would appreciate your… concern and praise,” he started in his well-known honeyed voice, “the mission was a success, just as the previous ones were, and I don’t see any reasons for this partnership to end in the near future. How about you direct your attention to something more productive?”

Then before she could find an appropriate response, his tone shifted once again and he leaned forward, the teasing demeanor back in full force.

“Like on me, for example! I’m really the one who should be commended for working with such a grumpy and strict person. Do you know how hard it is to execute a plan when your own partner constantly tries to sabotage it by saying it’s no good? That stern face alone is enough to express the disapproval of ten average scholars!”

Shoulders relaxing a fraction, Topaz scoffed. 

“It’ll be a clear night in Pier Point before I start to pity you instead of whoever you work with. Especially when it’s someone like Dr. Ratio. I can barely stand it, I don’t know how he manages. Anyway, I gotta go, don’t forget the debrief later today. Don’t be late either!”

As he idly waved at Topaz’s back, Aventurine contemplated her words.

“How he does it, huh…” he said under his breath. 

He stayed immobile a moment longer, then shrugged and went on his way. Time was money, after all. And, well.

He’d rather not know.

(Further away, out of sight, Topaz suddenly stopped in her tracks and blinked, Numby almost bumping into her legs.

“Wait,” she said, “he knows what Dr. Ratio looks like?”)

PERSONAL NOTES 

Highlighted section from theoretical essay, by [...] 

Comment from DR. RATIO : this part strangely reminded me of that gambler. He probably doesn’t know much about the science of probabilities, and almost certainly wouldn’t care, yet I can’t help but feel he would find some interest in what is being put forward here. To discuss it with him might also be interesting, a welcome change from most discussions I’ve been able to have in recent times.

Reminder : Introduce him to advanced statistics. Perhaps there is a chance it might bring some form of order or purpose to his chaos.

Edit, one week later : I was wrong. It’s worse. He understands it, and it’s worse.

Reminder : Bring more books next time, he seemed interested in the subject and was, frankly, an exceptional student, if only for a moment before he turned around and used his newly-acquired knowledge in the most chaotic and illogical way possible. Make a list of what books to bring.

Aventurine peeked into the large room near the front of the Radiant Feldspar, recently renamed by the always-amusing Trailblazer, relaxing a little when he saw it was near-empty. His eyes scanned the open space and quickly landed on a tall figure, but not the one he’d come looking for. He pondered for a moment, then shrugged and walked in anyway. Couldn’t hurt, right? Taking the opportunity to attempt to have a conversation with Screwllum, member of the genius society and ruler of Planet Screwllum, currently working on a project in collaboration with one Dr. Veritas Ratio, definitely seemed like the type of thing more likely to yield positive results than negative ones. Not only that, but some of those potential results were of great interest to him.

“Mr. Screwllum,” he called with a smile as he approached. “What a pleasant surprise, how is Penacony treating you?”

The Intellitron turned away from the hologram he was inspecting to face him, and though his face couldn’t show any emotion, he still exuded an air of refined politeness that put Aventurine at ease. As much as any conversation with a stranger could put him at ease, anyway.

“Mr. Aventurine, of the Ten Stonehearts,” Screwllum greeted him with a nod. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, as I’ve heard much about you.”

Aventurine’s smile didn’t falter, but in the back of his mind, the previously favourable odds of this conversation being pleasant started to plummet.

“My, what an honour,” he lied smoothly. No rumour about him was ever flattering. “I wouldn’t have expected someone like you to care about a poor, common operative like me. Is the genius society actually interested in intergalactic gossip?”

“I’m afraid your statement is incorrect, not only does someone of your status not qualify as a common operative, but the actions of the IPC hardly qualify as ‘gossip’, as I personally have recently been reminded of. Even us of the genius society sometimes cannot avoid getting caught in the ripples.”

He paused for a second, while Aventurine stayed silent. Something about the way the aristocrat spoke told him something had happened, something that didn’t paint the IPC in the best light (though, was it ever different?). Luckily, before it could get any more uncomfortable, the other spoke again.

“Nevertheless, the matter at hand is unrelated, and I am inclined to believe your words when it comes to this meeting being a surprise. Hypothesis: you were looking for someone else. Secondary hypothesis: you were looking for the person from whom I heard about you, Veritas Ratio.”

Aventurine blinked. This was… unexpected.

“Correct, Mr. Screwllum, I was indeed looking for the good doctor. I can’t say I’m disappointed by this outcome, though, since I’m always happy to have an interesting conversation. However, are you saying my dear colleague complains about me to others?” He didn’t hide the glee in his voice, or the anticipation in his smile. “My, how unprofessional! I would’ve thought he’d try to erase me from his mind while he’s not forced to be in my presence, I hope he didn’t give you too bad of an impression of me, Mr. Screwllum.”

The Intellitron tilted his head and looked at him for a few seconds before speaking, with the impression of someone looking at an unexpected puzzle.

“Not at all, Mr. Aventurine, quite the opposite in fact. Mr. Ratio never spoke ill of you.”

When Aventurine’s eyebrows raised incredulously, Screwllum continued.

“Perhaps I misspoke, he never directly talked about you to me, rather he made… comments, offhanded references that made it rather easy to identify you. And though his language was sometimes harsh, as I believe it often is, even an inorganic lifeform such as myself could detect the fondness in his words. To gain the regard of such a guarded and severe man, any preconceived impression I may have formed of you from him could only have been positive.”

A breath of silence passed as Aventurine processed the words, and then the only thing he could do was laugh uncomfortably. This conversation kept taking turns he didn’t expect, and he wasn’t quite enjoying it anymore. Teasing Ratio about growing on him was one thing, but someone else saying it like it was true? Like it was more than grudgingly tolerating him? That opened a pit in his chest he almost forgot about, one that felt uncomfortably like longing. So he laughed.

“Ah, Mr. Screwllum, don’t be fooled by Dr. Ratio’s abrasive attitude, he actually cares quite a lot about teaching and improvement in others, you know? He probably sees an eternal bad student in me, but can’t give up on own principles. Nothing personal, that man’s just a workaholic when it comes to his own beliefs, haha.”

Screwllum simply looked at him without moving this time, still with the air of someone staring at a complicated equation, unsure of where to start with it. Considering this was a member of the genius society, Aventurine was honestly inclined to take it as a compliment. 

“Observation: you do not believe me,” simply said the aristocrat, sounding very neutral about it. 

Aventurine just smiled back. This had veered into a subject he wasn’t really keen to talk about further. Still, if he wanted the conversation to go back on safer tracks, he had to take matters into his own hands.

“This might be presumptuous of me, but I heard you partnered with the IPC previously on the first iteration of this project to share some relevant information it uncovered. Do you think that might be the case again here?”

It was anything but subtle, which was fine. Subtlety was for when it was preferable that the other person not find out you wanted to change the subject, but not only did Aventurine not particularly care at this moment, the Intellitron had almost certainly already picked up on it. 

Screwllum looked at him silently for a few more seconds, before apparently deciding to go along with the new topic, much to Aventurine’s relief.

“The partnership you speak of was limited to a specific module of the simulated data, and it was also never guaranteed that the IPC would even obtain any of it. If those terms are still agreeable, then… perhaps. Or perhaps not. I alone cannot promise terms and speak for my fellow contributors, nor do I desire to. If this conversation aims to establish the foundations of a contract, I would suggest making an appointment so that all parties are suitably informed and prepared.”

Aventurine raised his hands in surrender, chuckling despite himself. This serious and long-worded speech in response to what was obviously just an excuse, with just enough attitude without being impolite… How unfair that his dear doctor still found a way to be present in his mind even in a conversation with someone else, one that started because he couldn’t find him in the first place. 

“My apologies,” he said, softer than he’d intended. “It wasn’t my intention to put you in an uncomfortable position, or to start an unofficial negotiation. My interest here is purely… personal, I assure you.”

Aventurine got the very strong feeling that, had Screwllum’s facial features been able to, he would have raised an eyebrow.

“A personal interest, you say? A currently absent one, perhaps?”

“In making new friends! Or at the very least, in having an interesting conversation. Don’t sell yourself short, Mr. Screwllum, talking to someone like you is most definitely worth a warp jump, even if I hadn’t already been in Penacony.”

“Yet you are still disappointed.”

Well, way to take the wind from under his sails. Still, persisting in a conversation with a difficult partner was one of his best honed skills. 

“Disappointed? How could that possibly be, if I’ve given you that impression then I really must apologize. Please, how can I make it up to you?”

Screwllum doesn’t seem very impressed by his attempt to keep ignoring his less-than-subtle hints, but he also doesn’t immediately bring it up again, which is good enough for Aventurine. Rather, he starts to project an air of pondering, seemingly considering something as he looks at him, which is… probably better?

“Well, Mr. Aventurine, while there’s absolutely nothing for you to ‘make up for’, if you insist on being of help, there might indeed be something you can do. A simple curiosity on my part, you see, and this conversation has spawned a theory I previously hadn’t considered.”

Aventurine felt his eyebrows raise slightly, just as a certain cautiousness settled at the back of his mind. A deal’s a deal though, and he wasn’t about to back out.

“I doubt there’s anything within my limited knowledge that could possibly have evaded a genius, but if you think it’s worth something, I don’t see the harm. Go ahead, we’ll see if what’s in my head can be of any use.”

“Do not be troubled, I am simply hypothesising connections where there might be none, your knowledge isn’t in question. With that said, Mr. Aventurine, have you ever heard of ‘Khorgahar’?”

Aventurine, who’d already been prepared to answer with an appropriately embarrassed ‘no’, stopped with his tongue already forming the word, and blinked. Slowly, he started again. 

“As a matter of fact, Mr. Screwllum, I have.” He looked at the intellitron with a raised brow, feeling a little wrong-footed. “It’s a planet that was, and still mostly is, controlled by their Imperial Army, keeping the citizens safe from the monsters in the planet’s southern mountains ranges… or so says the Imperial Army. May I ask… why this name?”

Screwllum just looked at him for a few seconds more with the air of someone contemplating the final piece of a puzzle, wondering if it’ll fit. Finally, he spoke again. 

“How about… a phantom thief who got the best of Nekar Chichi, aboard the vessel known as the Righteous?”

Aventurine couldn’t help the uptick of his lips at that, comfortable enough in the conversation for this bit of honest glee.

“That old tycoon got what he deserved if you ask me, a well-executed performance that was. Yes, I know of them. The scourge of New Londinium… to a select some, at least. Also rumoured to be responsible for the liberation— I mean, the disappearance of the slaves in the Battle Fortress of Sonagnat, along with that dear President. Now, will you finally tell me what this is about, because it’s getting quite uncanny.”

“Of course, my apologies. Just one last thing, do you perhaps know anything of a vessel orbiting and observing a system in the midst of being devoured by the Nihi— … ah. I seem to have answered my own question while asking it, I apologize. If you’ll follow me, please?”

Aventurine, who for just a second had stilled completely at the almost-mention of the Nihility, cautiously followed as Screwllum led him to the holographic screen displays of the Divergent Universe, or so Ratio had called it. 

“If you’ll look at this, it relates some information revealed through the Trailblazer’s past dives into the Divergent Universe. The highlighted sections were… personally selected and pushed by Mr. Ratio to be explored and expanded within the sea of data, and then saved to a personal file.”

As Aventurine’s eyes swept over a list titled ‘Expanded Equations’, whatever that meant, they indeed caught on one entry that seemingly related the phantom thief’s meeting with that tycoon, along with details unheard of, all somehow from the thief’s point of view.

“This is…”

“Data that Mr. Ratio seemed personally interested in,” Screwllum supplied, looking over as well, then at him. “If I may ask, do you know of these because of him, or is it perhaps the other way around?”

“Ah…” Distracted, Aventurine didn’t think much about his answer. “I mentioned these to him in passing before because I was interested in some aspects of it, but he didn’t seem much interested…”

“Hm.”

Without warning, Screwllum swept the info away to bring up multiple different pages, causing Aventurine to startle a little in surprise, focused as he had been.

“Hypothesis: is this perhaps familiar to you?” the intellitron asked.

To Aventurine’s mounting incredulity, it was.

“... Ratio mentioned it two days ago, we had a discussion about it.”

“How interesting. This text was highlighted a week ago. How about this one?”

Blinking, his brain refusing to come to any conclusion, Aventurine still answered.

“Ah… we spoke about that… a week ago? I think?”

“Highlighted a few weeks ago, this makes sense, yes. And this?”

‘Makes sense? Nothing about this makes any sense!’ Aventurine silently screamed, but answered automatically.

“I’m… not familiar with that,” he said with some relief.

The chemicals used in some distant planet’s farming process? Never heard of it, from Ratio or otherwise!

“Well, this was highlighted yesterday, matching the pattern. You might hear about it soon, so I won’t spoil any more of it.”

And with that, Screwllum flicked the pages away with the satisfied air of someone who just solved a mystery. Aventurine, in contrast, felt very frazzled. Almost panicked.

“That… he’s probably just highlighting things he finds interesting, and can’t help but talk about it when he has a rare actual discussion with someone.”

“Oh.” Screwllum pulled up two pages, one of them unfamiliar. “This is the colour Mr. Ratio most frequently uses to highlight text. I was puzzled as to why he also sometimes used a different one.”

Aventurine stared at the very standard yellow highlighting bland phrases on the hologram screen, and looked back at the second page, at the familiar words highlighted in indigo, a particular hue eerily reminiscent of his own— 

“Well, this has been a pleasure, Mr. Screwllum, truly, but I’m afraid I have some pressing matters to attend to now.” The plastic smile he pasted on his face actually tugged on his cheeks a little painfully, that hadn’t happened in a long time. “I look forward to having another conversation with you, let’s hope our paths cross again soon!”

“Oh? Are you quite sure?” Screwllum managed to sound amused somehow. “You haven’t even seen the slot machines Mr. Ratio insisted on yet.”

Aventurine started walking backward.

“Ah, I really wish I could, truly, but you know how it is, no rest for the wicked and all that. Have a great rest of your day Mr. Screwllum, I wish you all the best, see you again soon, alright?” His speech was getting faster, he hadn’t been (genuinely) obvious like this in… he couldn’t remember.

“Until next time, Mr. Aventurine.”

Aventurine passed the doorway and immediately ducked into the corridor, finally out of danger. He felt like everything was enhanced, from the change in lighting to the slight difference in air pressure. The air felt cooler somehow, but there was still a buzz beneath his skin, a shake in his hands. Even now that he was alone, it still felt too crowded. In the brief privacy of the shadows, flimsy as it was, he allowed himself to breathe. In, out. In, it doesn’t mean anything, out, don’t start imagining things that will never bear any fruits.

In his head, he counted, steady and precise. Not the number of breaths, but the seconds he allowed himself to spend on regaining control; of his expression, of his thoughts, of his heartbeat. No more than seven. Never more than seven. Four, five. In, out. Six, seven, out the shadows. Step forward. 

Smile. 

PERSONAL NOTES 

Highlighted section from Veritas Prime University Newspaper : [...] 

Comment from DR. RATIO : That gambler would enjoy this, heh.

Reminder : It’s my turn to bring coffee this time.

It had been 2 months since he’d last seen the doctor. That first month, twice had someone from the lobby of the IPC building called to tell him Ratio was on the way to his office, and twice had he invented an emergency meeting in another room with some very nervous subordinates. Twice did he come back to a still-warm cup of coffee on his desk, prepared just the way he liked it. And the more guilt he felt, the more tempted he was, the more he became determined to stay away. Because Ratio did not need this, Ratio did not want this. He might tolerate Aventurine, and maybe that was rare enough for him to think he’d formed some sort of attachment, but he’d come to his senses soon enough. That big brain of his wouldn’t let him act foolishly for very long, even when it was in unfamiliar territory. It would quickly recognize who Aventurine was, what he was, and whatever illusion the doctor had of him would come crashing down. It would be for the best.

And, perhaps most importantly, by then Aventurine would have gotten hold of this emotion growing inside him insidiously, and strangled it. Let it die a quick death, instead of in a torturous process of impossible hopes and crushing delusions. He’d learned that lesson early on in life, something Madam Jade hadn’t needed to instill in him. Perhaps he’d always been callous by nature (if only) if killing, in all manners, came so easily to him (if only). 

A knock at his door made him raise his head, and for a moment he was almost scared that the object of his ruminations had appeared, even though Ratio hadn’t tried to contact him in 23 days now. Not that he was counting.

“Come in,” he called.

An employee cracked the door open, wearing the generic IPC uniform that made them all into a faceless, identical mass, and saluted. 

“Sir, a package arrived for you. Would you like me to bring it in?”

Aventurine raised an eyebrow. Mail and packages usually arrived all together at a specific time, which had long passed by now. Curiosity piqued, he gestured at the employee to go ahead.

“So what makes this so special?” he questioned as a small package was carefully deposited on his desk.

“Oh, it’s from Dr. Ratio, sir.”

Arm halfway over his desk, Aventurine froze. 

“Pardon?”

“From Dr. Ratio sir, you set his correspondence to the highest priority?”

“... Right. Thank you, you can go.”

They saluted again before walking out, closing the door behind them. Aventurine breathed, heart suddenly beating faster as he picked up the small parcel. It felt unreasonably heavy, not in his hand but in his shoulder, in his chest. Everything felt heavy. ‘Well’, he thought, ‘no other way about it.’

Halfway through unwrapping it, it clicked. Staring at the familiar label, the back of his throat started to itch, a laugh bubbled up before he could stop it and his eyes burned, just a little. That stupid, stupid man.

It was headache medicine. His headache medicine, the one he’d been using ever since Ratio had silently handed some to him on a mission when it’d been particularly bad, and it had worked better than anything he’d managed to get his hands on before. Questioning the doctor had revealed this particular medicine wasn’t yet in production, he’d only managed to get some because of his connections to the person who’d developed it. 

“Do you get headaches, doc?” he’d asked back then, a slight furrow in his brow.

“Given the students I need to teach and their works, it wouldn’t be surprising,” Ratio had answered impassively. Then, with a side-eye toward him, his own version of playful, he’d added: “Not to mention colleagues.”

Thus, he’d been supplying Aventurine with a box of them every few months, enough to make sure he wouldn’t abuse them. Truthfully, this wasn’t much of a concern to Aventurine, but he somewhat understood the doctor’s principles, and it’s not like he needed more than that.

But indeed, he’d been running low. 

“You just had to know, huh?” he whispered somberly. “You just had to remember, and you had to do something about it. Even though…”

Falling silent, he tilted his head back onto his chair and closed his eyes. What a terrible, terrible thing this was. For both of them. Who was going to suffer more, he wondered. Could he hurt Ratio more than this was going to hurt him? He probably didn’t have that power, but would he try? Could he? Would it help?

Opening his eyes again, he let out a long sigh.

“I guess that’s enough of that, huh?” he said to himself, humourless. 

Then he got up, put on his coat, left the medicine on the desk and, without hesitation, set out for the University of Veritas Prime. 

All or nothing, no matter what.

PERSONAL NOTES 

Highlighted section from personal email; email from : Screwllum, GS : [...] Mister Aventurine came to visit looking for you, I indulged some curiosity and showed him some of the material we’ve found, I hope this didn’t cause any problems.

Comment from DR. RATIO : This is the cause of the problem, isn’t it? Geniuses. 

Reminder : Remind him to eat, he probably hasn’t had an actual meal in a while.

Edit, five days later : This is getting out of hand. I’ll just go there, pass by the coffee shop close to his office.

Edit, nine days later : He continues to avoid me. There might be more to this, did anything happen? Perhaps checking the log of his recent mission would work.

Edit, three weeks later : Is it something I did?

As Aventurine walked through the hallways of Veritas Prime, eyes followed him almost constantly. This was normal. What wasn’t, were the sighs of relief. A truly alarming number of people seemed almost happy to see him, and some even smiled at him as their eyes met, looking for all the world to see like he’d brought them the present they’d asked for all their life. 

He walked faster. Being on the grounds of the university was already always a little uncomfortable, but this was a new kind of unsettling, and Ratio’s office couldn’t appear soon enough. When it did, though, it was locked. Not only would it not budge, but his knocks went unanswered. Staring blankly at the door, he almost wanted to laugh at himself. Here he came all determined, like a man on a mission, only to be stopped at the very first obstacle. Did he think Ratio was going to be waiting for him? The man had better, more important things to do. 

Deciding to salvage what was left of his dignity, Aventurine turned to leave, resolving never to step foot in this building ever again. Just after two steps, however, a voice rang out behind him.

“Mister Aventurine! You’re mister Aventurine, aren’t you? Please wait!”

Turning around, he watched as an older woman jogged - jogged! - up to him. Blinking, he watched as she took a moment to catch her breath, a hand still held in front of herself like she was ready to catch him if he decided to go while she was indisposed. 

“Can I help you?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed, then seemed to get a hold of herself, and coughed into her fist. “That is, I think perhaps you might be able to help with a… situation we’ve been having recently.”

“I’m sorry, but any dealings between the IPC and the University will first have to go through—”

“No, no! That’s not—this is more of a personal matter, you see.”

His eyebrows went up. 

“Personal? I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t remember us meeting.”

She shook her head again, looking a little flustered.

“No, this isn’t my matter, I’m just… we’re simply affected by it. And oh, please forgive my rudeness, I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Satine Stallmight, the head of the organic biology department here. Pleased to meet you. I’m sorry our first meeting is so rushed, but I’m afraid it’s a matter of importance.”

“Pleasure. Now may I know what exactly this is about? Because I have to admit I’m quite lost.”

“Of course, of course.” 

She took a deep breath and seemed to steel herself for what she was about to say. Aventurine, for his part, was getting a little impatient. What kind of personal matter could there possibly be between two strangers, especially in a university he had almost nothing to do with?

Ah. Wait. Almost nothing to do with.

“Mister Aventurine, are you and Dr. Ratio having a fight?”

Aventurine fought the urge to close his eyes. This couldn’t be happening.

“And what exactly might have given you that impression?”

“Well, nobody has seen you here in the last few months, Dr. Ratio hasn’t been away on any assigned mission and, frankly, well, he’s been… impossible.”

Aventurine blinked, feeling a little dubious. Ratio was already what people would call impossible on a normal day. What exactly could have changed?

“Impossible?”

“Nobody can deal with him!” The words almost burst out of her, like she’d been holding them back this entire time. “He’s been even more brutal with his words than usual, he refuses to cooperate with anyone, and his students are on the verge of rioting! Please do something!”

Numerous phrases were on the tip of his tongue:

“Sorry, I don’t have anything to do with that.”

“What am I supposed to do about this? It’s not like I could change anything.”

“Are you sure that’s not just the usual Dr. Ratio?”

“Dr. Ratio? Who’s that?”

“The door is locked,” is what ended up slipping out.

The researcher, Satine, seemed to light up.

“I can open it for you! I shouldn’t, and normally I would get in trouble for it, but I believe everyone would understand. And even then…”

She seemed to get lost in her memories for a moment, seeming almost haunted, before she shook her head vigorously and looked at him with determined, almost manic eyes.

“This is worth it.”

While he almost wanted to take a step back, Aventurine simply nodded. He was a little curious now, honestly, as to what this amped up version of Ratio would look like, but it also made the anxiety buzzing at the back of his head grow louder. If, like this woman was saying, Ratio was in this state because of him, as ludicrous as it sounded, then… how would he react to seeing him? He thought he’d already imagined all the worst case scenarios, but this new information added fuel to the fire.

“Well then,” he said anyway, “would you mind?”

Not waiting to be asked twice, she fished out a large set of keys and hurriedly started sorting through them. When she finally found the right one, she practically threw herself at Ratio’s office door and breathed a sigh of relief when it clicked without a hitch.

“It’s rather barbaric to only use physical keys, but the university thought it gave a certain sophistication to the buildings, though I think all the pillars and engravings already do a good enough job of that, but oh well, I can endure losing my key every once in a while if I don’t have to deal with remembering a complicated passcode,” she started babbling nervously.

Now that the deed was done, she was obviously nervous that someone, most likely Ratio, would arrive and catch her in the act. Also eager to get this over with, Aventurine smiled at her with all the patience he could muster. Which, while it wasn’t a lot, it certainly didn’t show on his face. Right on cue, her shoulders loosened a bit, but her hands still clutched the keys like it was a weapon. 

“Thank you so much, you’ve really done me a favour.”

“No no, on the contrary!” She smiled at him, a little strained, but sincere. The complete opposite of his. “You’re the one doing us all a favour!”

I wouldn’t be so sure about that, he thought to himself. Would she still be eager to help if she knew he might just be here to make it worse? In an ideal world, Ratio and him would go back to their usual business relationship, Aventurine would crush under his heel whatever dared to grow uncontrolled in his chest, and Ratio would forget any delusion he might’ve formed about Aventurine after maintaining a steady contact over a long period of time, something he might not be used to. In an ideal world, it would be fine.

In this world, though, it probably wouldn’t be that simple.

As Satine left, he took a deep breath before walking toward the unlocked door. This was all so familiar, somehow, even though he never thought he’d have any kind of comfort in a place of learning aside from the clothes on his back and the spite on the back of his teeth. Never thought a renowned university would have a room within it he’d find himself relaxing in. Well, today it didn’t, despite the familiar smell that hit him as soon as he opened the door. 

He closed the door behind him and took a moment to look around. Nothing had changed, almost. Everything was in the same place as the last time he visited, except for some reason the comfortable chairs that were in front of the desk had been placed to the side, where no one would sit on them, and the old chairs had been placed back in their previous place. Aventurine spent a moment blinking at them in bemusement before shrugging and looking elsewhere. 

What was he supposed to do now? Wait for the doctor, obviously, but he hadn’t brought any work with him, just his phone, and he was already bored. He was about to throw himself on the couch further into the office, before something caught his eye. 

A holographic display, logged out, but still opened. 

A holographic display logged out of an account Aventurine had access to. 

It wasn’t a big deal, Ratio had given him his own login information in the hopes that Aventurine would then use it to access thesis and essays otherwise locked behind a wall (a paywall wouldn’t be much of an issue, but he would have to know what he was looking for, and even before then, decide to do so at all). Ratio being a firm defender of the idea that knowledge should be shared to anyone looking for it, he despised such roadblocks as needing an academic account specific to the university to be able to access most information related to it. 

Quite a while ago, on a mission together, Ratio had casually mentioned the logic and calculations relating to probability and chance. When Aventurine had shown some interest, mostly in the interest of proving them wrong, Ratio had gone on a long explanation about the mathematics behind it and how, in this world, basically anything could be broken down to numbers and patterns and equations. It was actually quite interesting, even though Aventurine would admit to zoning out a little when Ratio would go a little too deep into how the universe itself was made of numbers. Still, apparently he had been enough of a diligent student for Ratio to judge that it was worth giving him access to more knowledge.

Aventurine was almost a little ashamed at how little he’d used it. He’d only read some articles here and there, before missions mostly, to give himself a little edge, and sometimes simply from a passing interest in a title. Perhaps, also, to satisfy some part of himself who still felt like the young man in the small bed, frantically writing down anything he heard or read and thought might be of use, anything that could help him stay afloat. So many videos he watched back then, explaining concepts probably everyone else knew. Still, he had a feeling the algorithm somehow knew when he was the one using the account, because it all seemed to be beginner-level articles, from how relatively easy they were to understand. Still, numbers made sense, and he enjoyed testing them against his luck.

(He wished he’d found some of Ratio’s teaching videos then, but they weren’t available to the general public yet, before the doc had the power to make it so. He’d checked.)

All of this to say: he had access to Ratio’s account, and he strongly suspected it was his main one, the one where he saved all his files and documents.

Aventurine had never looked at, or for, Ratio’s personal files of course, he was still a little honoured at the trust the other man had placed in him with the casual gesture. But. 

But. 

Those highlighted sections. That colour. Screwllum’s comments. 

Aventurine had walked over to the display before he even knew he’d moved. His hand hesitated a little, but ultimately tapped in the login code with practiced ease. Immediately, the screen opened on the files last consulted. Aventurine scanned through it, but quickly found nothing of interest in a review of a student’s paper. The comments, too, were nothing but scathing but constructive remarks. He was about to minimize it and look elsewhere when his eyes caught on a different hue at the top right. 

Personal comments; private view

Before he could reconsider, he’d already clicked on it. He’d come this far, right? Couldn’t leave empty-handed. 

Biting his lip, he clenched his left fist as the page changed to display violet-coloured notes, breathed in, then dived in.

…

Nothing. 

Aventurine frowned, looking more closely, but the display stayed the same. 

“Alright, doc,” he mumbled to himself. “What kinda code are you using for your own personal files, you weirdo?”

Aventurine himself used code in his own documents, of course, but that was a separate matter. There was nothing here. Literally, the one and only “comment” was a simple period on a purple background. Nothing else. Aventurine sighed, shoulders relaxing a little. Still, out of curiosity, he clicked on the comment to see what it was linked to.

A simple sentence in a paragraph he skimmed, talking about a grand game in an arena, seemingly very dangerous, played with pink balls they… threw at each other? Pretty interesting, honestly, but also currently useless. Still, he made a mental note to look it up later.

Going back to the comment itself, the simple period, he pondered a little. What could Ratio possibly use this for? It didn’t even seem like the type of information he’d be interested in, and the regular comment on that section was acidic about its relevance to the paper. Looking a little more, he finally found something promising.

View all personal notes

Reluctance long forgotten, caught in the chase, he clicked on it without thinking twice. Immediately, a wall of indigo filled the screen with a soft glow, full of secrets Aventurine was eager to learn.

He was, at first, disappointed again. There were quite a few notes over the last few days, weeks, but they were all mostly just periods to note the passage, or single words Aventurine couldn’t make sense of. One of them was simply : “Perhaps?” The minds of geniuses were truly above those of simple mortals.

Still, as he scrolled to older highlighted sections, the comments became a little clearer. 

“This might work.”

“This is a bad idea, but… it might be an interesting discussion.”

“Does he know?”

“Would he like this?”

“I should talk to him about this.”

“That gambler would like this.”

“Is this why that gambler was so confident? Foolish.”

“Aventurine probably would-”

“I should mention this to the gambler when-”

“Aventurine said-”

“Aventurine-”

“Aventurine-”

“Aventurine-”

Aventurine stared. He recognized some conversations in these notes, topics that came about at some point, he thought by chance. Interesting conversations, too. 

What… was the meaning of this, exactly? What in the world was the doc doing, apparently orchestrating discussions? Fabricating excuses to bring about different subjects he’d actually noted down prior? A little frantically, Aventurine minimized the page to try and look for other folders of highlighted comments, other colours, other… experiments? Interests? Anything, anything to show he wasn’t the only one in there, colour-coded amongst Ratio’s work. 

There was only the standard yellow. Staring at the cold scientific notes, Aventurine, for some reason, felt like the butt of the joke. Aha, somewhere, was probably laughing at him. He deserved it, didn’t he? Coming all the way here with one goal, only to be immediately overwhelmed with knowledge he honestly didn’t know what to do with.

He needed to get out of here. 

He turned away from the holographic screen, not even remembering to close the tabs, and took two steps forward, just in time for the key to turn in the lock.

Aventurine froze.

The person on the other side seemed to freeze too, just for a second, obviously noticing that the door was already unlocked. Then they threw it open, their bad temper somehow obvious in the way the door swung. Then again, it matched with what he was told.

“Who exactly dares to—” thundered an irate Dr. Ratio, bust on, before the words died on his tongue. 

They looked at each other, or rather, Aventurine looked at the plaster head and thanked his luck for a lucky break, short as it might prove to be. He needed a few seconds before looking into Ratio’s eyes.

“Hey doc,” he finally said, easy smile already in place. He hadn’t even noticed. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Ratio’s bust dematerialized, and somehow, Ratio’s face was even worse than if he’d seemed furious. He looked relieved.

“Gambler,” he simply said. It sounded so heavy. Ratio closed the door behind him and locked it, as usual. “Are you well?”

The dread that filled him at the thought of having a normal, casual conversation with Ratio right now was… incomprehensible. This was what he wanted, normalcy. For Ratio to realize everything about Aventurine was casual and superficial, that there wasn’t anything more to it, to him, and then they could move on from here. Yet here he was, stomach churning and the words sour in his mouth. 

How weak he was.

(His earlier thoughts came back to mind. Could he hurt Ratio? Would it help? Would it make this easier in the end? If he wanted to, he could hurt Ratio, he was fairly certain of that now, but rarely had he been so hesitant to do something, even as he found it abhorrent. Could he hurt Ratio? He would, he would, he would, that was a given, so would this be a mercy? Would this be kind? Aventurine wasn’t yet so hypocritical that he would call being cruel a kindness, but he had been cruel before, and he would be again. The question remained, somehow : could he?)

He looked at Ratio, at his closed-off face but earnest eyes, saw the hope, the hurt and the concern in them, and Aventurine felt dirty. Ratio… wouldn’t try to hurt him, he knew. He wouldn’t want to, it wasn’t in his nature, and for once in his life, Aventurine was considering hurting someone who truly, truly wished him no harm, quite the opposite. The doctor’s prescription, hidden in his nightstand at his apartment, wasn’t a lie, and wasn’t something Aventurine would ever forget either. Yet here he was, vile and treacherous as they alway accused him of being.

“It’s good to see you,” he said sincerely.

Ratio’s mouth thinned, seemingly in annoyance, but he didn’t glance away, piercing eyes never leaving Aventurine’s face.

“You have a strange way of showing it then, as you could have seen me much sooner than today. You took efforts, even, to avoid such a situation, so forgive me for being skeptical of your claim.”

“Ah…” Aventurine looked away first, a rare occurrence. People tended to find his eyes unsettling. “It… wasn’t anything against you doc, so don’t take it personally.”

“Then what was it?” pressed Ratio, unwilling to let the matter lie. “Was it something I said? Something someone said?”

Aventurine opened his mouth to lie, then closed it. There was no point in trying to brush it under the rug, wasn’t this what he came for? A brutal confrontation, to resume an unremarkable but pleasantly cordial relationship. Efficient and professional, that’s what he wanted.

In his pocket, his left hand flexes.

“How have you been?” he asks instead. An entirely banal question, completely inconsequential, if it wasn’t for the fact that he genuinely, almost desperately wanted to know. Had Ratio been well? Did his sleep suffer, did the worry eat at him or did his ever-impressive self-discipline carry him through these months without trouble? Was he flattering himself in thinking his absence could have that kind of effect on him? What option would he prefer, out of all of them? Who knows. Who cared, at this point. 

As the conversation progressed, Aventurine could feel himself caring less and less about anything other than what was happening right now, in this room. And as much as it scared him, he could also feel a familiar exhilaration, the feeling of walking the thread between losing and gaining everything. This was different though. So, so different, he wasn’t even sure what he stood to lose, and even less what he stood to gain. He knew one thing, however.

Rarely had he ever wanted so much. 

“How have I been.” Ratio repeated flatly, and Aventurine winced a little.

“I got your medicine,” he offered. “It’s… why I came here, actually.”

Ratio seemed to straighten a bit at that, clenching his jaw and blinking like he’d been hit without expecting it. Aventurine stared in surprise at the change in behaviour. Where Ratio had previously looked irked and impatient while being very forward in expressing himself, he now looked… reserved. He drew himself up, crossed his arms and schooled his features to be as stoic as possible, all but put his bust back on, really. He might look intimidating to anyone else, but to Aventurine… he looked like he was bracing himself. For what?

“I see,” said Ratio evenly. “And are you here to return it? I assure you there was no need for that, the prescription is in your name. You can even get it yourself from now on if you wish to, I can connect you with the one manufacturing it. There was no need to come all this way for such a reason, it’s an entirely inefficient use of time. It could have been… thrown away, and it would have been over with.”

It was Aventurine’s turn to blink. ‘He’s rambling’, he thought blankly. It’s only when the idea of throwing away the medication was brought up that he finally thought to interrupt.

“What? No, no, doc, I didn’t come to give it back, I…”

His tongue seemed to twist inside his mouth, his throat closing up. What was he supposed to say? That he missed him? Sooner a rigged game of russian roulette than—

An exchange from months ago came back to him suddenly, a casual moment one wouldn’t normally think twice about, unless deeper feelings had taken hold.

“Ratio, I came here to see you. The coffee’s a bonus, not an excuse.” 

Ratio had stared back at him so stoically, if it hadn’t been for every single other part of him betraying how affected he’d been by those words, Aventurine might have believed it. He’d been so flustered, but above all, what Aventurine remembered most clearly was the warmth. The warmth inside his stomach, spreading through him at the thought of making Ratio… happy? It had been a strange feeling, leaving him almost jittery, almost unable to contain it, overflowing with a sweet, unknown nervousness. 

But also from Ratio himself. While not necessarily in words, the man had exuded warmth in the way he’d stayed closer to him than before, leaning into his personal space without ever being uncomfortable, in the way he wouldn’t stop touching him. Little things, hands brushing while passing something, a hand at the back while moving, at his waist to tug him out of the way of someone walking by, brushing something out of his hair. Casual, innocent little touches, but all things that came gradually, increasingly. Closer and closer and closer. And call him self-centered, but he’d never seen the man famous for wearing a plaster bust as a barrier between him and other people behaving this way with anyone else.

Risks, reward, risks, reward. 

What was he ready to lose?

Was there anything to gain?

(Was this really something he could stand to wager?)

His insides slowly turning to ice, Aventurine pasted a smile on his face, ready at last. It may be a vulnerable admission, but he didn’t think anything was worth placing… this, in the balance. The easiest solution was thus to go back to how things were and forget about all this. He really made things complicated, huh? He’d laugh at himself later for making such a big deal out of such an obvious outcome. The doc and him would go back to being efficient work partners, and they’d forget about this uncomfortable interlude Aventurine caused. Everything would be—

“Don’t.”

He blinked.

‘Oh,’ he thought, ‘he looks mad now.’ 

With a furrowed brow, clenched jaw and tensed shoulders, the doctor did indeed look infuriated. 

But mostly, he looked hurt.

‘Ah, I fucked up again, huh?’

Ratio spoke before Aventurine could come up with anything to salvage the situation.

“Are you unable to take anything seriously, gambler? Am I, of all people, foolish in believing that I might get an honest answer from you? Have I been deluding myself all this time? Tell me, have I fallen so low?”

Aventurine was left without words. Something like this wasn’t supposed to happen. He couldn’t gather his wits in time, Ratio was already stepping forward, closer to him, rooting him in place with the intensity in his eyes.

“I refuse to believe that. Gambler, I have been wrong on numerous occasions, many of them concerning you, I will freely admit. But not about this. You cannot convince me this facade, elaborate as it is, is any more than paper thin compared to what it hides. Perhaps… perhaps I am not the man to whom you wish to show the parts of yourself you keep away. Perhaps I am not the one you wish to share anything with, but in such case, at least be honest enough to tell me so. Aventurine, please.”

Aventurine felt strangely fragmented, a part of him analysing from afar the look on Ratio’s face, the tired, earnest vulnerability unlike anything he’d ever seen directed at him. He’d seen many desperate men, such that he thought he’d seen every form desperation could take, always pathetic, but Ratio… Ratio made it look tempting. Ratio made it look like strength.

Another part of him was panicking. Most of him, in fact. Aeons, he wished the doc wouldn’t see through him so easily. 

Something, something, something, anything but—

“Is this an experiment, doc?”

Ratio blinked, visibly taken aback. 

“Pardon me?”

“I saw the notes, the highlighted sections” Aventurine went on, committed now. “Were our conversations some sort of experiment, and this is its conclusion? Its grand finale? See how Aventurine reacts to a confrontation, write down a report on it after?”

“Wha— confron— experiment? No, Aventurine, you— Oh, by Nous…”

Ratio ran a hand over his face, looking weary, frustrated, and bizarrely flustered.

“You… saw my highlighted notes?”

Aventurine resisted the urge to dance from one foot to the other, something he hadn’t felt in years, and raised his chin up just a little more instead. His heart was beating rather fast, it was pounding in his ears, drowning out everything except the words exchanged. 

“I did. Well, at first it was—”

“Screwllum, yes, he mentioned showing you some of my notes, but I didn’t think… nevermind. Why would that make you think this is some sort of experiment?”

“Well, why else would you… plan topics? Write down notes that are apparently related to me? Test out theories in conversations? Isn’t that what this is?”

“No, that’s— damnit.” 

Aventurine, despite himself, noticed the red creeping up from Ratio’s collar, his ears already a brilliant red. He couldn’t bring himself to find it as cute as usual, however, as his throat felt unusually tight, and he had to make a conscious effort to relax his shoulders. Inconvenient, unpractical, useless, impossible—

Ratio interrupted his thoughts with a heavy sigh.

“It’s not… whatever you’re thinking. Those notes are simply… whenever something makes me think of you.”

Aventurine blinked. Then blinked again. Ratio was rather stubbornly avoiding eye contact, but that didn’t matter, as Aventurine was too occupied trying to grasp what he’d just heard. His heart was certainly beating fast. Faster than before, even.

“There are… quite a lot of them, doc,” he finally said, voice carefully neutral.

“I know.”

They stayed in silence for a few moments more, both struggling with finding what to say, before it seemed Ratio couldn’t take it anymore.

“It’s not anything… strange,” he said in a somewhat strained voice, still looking away. “It’s just… I’ll sometimes read something that’ll make me think of a subject I think would be interesting to discuss with you. That’s all.”

Aventurine stared. In his pocket, his left hand laid open, forgotten in his daze. 

“You mean,” he started slowly, enunciating each word, “that you’ll see random things, they’ll make you think of me, so you highlight that section to talk to me about it later?”

“So that I don’t forget,” Ratio said like a man resigned to his fate.

A beat passed.

“Doc,” Aventurine said again, “there are a lot of them.”

“... I know.”

In his mind, Aventurine imagined a gun. He imagined unloading all chambers except one, then pointing it at his own chest. He imagined the click of an empty chamber, over and over. Five times. Six times. Seven. He kept pulling the trigger, and he kept standing.

“Gambler.”

He wasn’t afraid anymore.

“Are you alright?”

This wasn’t a weapon that would hurt him.

“Ratio, did you know?”

Finally looking at him, blush diminishing but looking a little anxious, Ratio raised an eyebrow. Such a seemingly collected response from someone whose hands were obviously fidgeting. Aventurine smiled.

“I… also think about you everyday.”

Apart from a sharp inhale, Ratio seemed to freeze in place. If not for the now burning intensity of his gaze, he might’ve resembled his marble bust. Aventurine found the courage to keep going in the hope he could see blooming in the depths of those eyes, red and gold like everything he’d ever dreamed of. 

“I… ha, this is embarrassing. I’ll write messages to you on my phone without sending them, questions, complaints… insignificant little comments that for some reason I want to send to you. Isn’t that strange? Maybe I just like to imagine your answers.”

Eyes locked with his, Ratio made a barely-audible sound. Aventurine fought the urge to smile as that noise sparked warmth inside his chest.

“Because you would, wouldn’t you? You’d answer me if I wrote to you about anything.”

“I would,” beathed Ratio, just a little eager, just a little rough.

It was enough to give Aventurine the strength to move forward a step, fully into Ratio’s space. It might even have gone to his head, because what else would have compelled him to reach out to one of Ratio’s hands, which were balled up by his sides, and wrap his left hand around his fist? The moment they made contact, the tensed fingers immediately relaxed, Ratio’s hand falling open to brush their palms together. It was soft, and warm, and so so careful.

“You can be surprisingly dumb, doc,” whispered Aventurine, head craned back to keep looking directly into Ratio’s eyes. Even with these words, Ratio’s eyebrows didn’t so much as twitch in displeasure, the man seemingly so enraptured by the words that he couldn’t bring himself to be insulted. “How could you possibly think you wouldn’t be the one when you know me better than anyone I’ve ever met? You casually brought out parts of me I thought I’d sooner die than ever show anyone.”

“Casually?” Ratio huffed lightly, ruffling Aventurine’s hair from their proximity. His eyes were unbearably fond. “Do you know how much I craved every new small discovery about you? Do you know how, when I learned that you let your hair fall in front of your eyes to better concentrate on your thoughts, I thought about it every day for a whole week? Even now, every time I notice it there’s a petty part of me that wants to boast that I know this. I am privileged enough, among so many, to have had the occasion to learn these things most don’t have the merest inkling about. Never has it felt casual.”

Aventurine swallowed. This… might be dangerous after all. 

“You’ve been paying attention, huh,” he tried to chuckle, but it came out breathless. “You… might not like everything you find, you know. I certainly don’t.”

Too honest, too honest, whispered the voice in his head. You’re not worth ruining this moment. 

‘But Ratio deserves the truth,’ he thought back, ‘and this is worth more than I deserve.’

Ratio was silent for a moment, gazing at him with an unreadable expression, but his thumb did not stop caressing Aventurine’s skin. His grip stayed firm, but Aventurine still fought the urge to either hold on fiercely, or to snatch his own hand back. 

Coward, always such a coward.

“It hasn’t been a matter of ‘liking’ for quite a while now,” Ratio finally said. “After all, I don’t like your terrible habit of putting your life on the line without a second thought, or the way you sometimes talk about yourself. I don’t like how you hid from me instead of trying to have a conversation.”

Aventurine winced. Well. 

Raising their joined hands, Ratio brought them close and splayed Aventurine’s palm against his chest. The rapid beating that could clearly be felt through the fabric was… distracting. Then it was Ratio’s turn to step forward, and their eyes met again like magnets, pulled together again and again. The doctor lowered his head further, reducing again the distance between them. 

Run away now. This is your last chance. Say something. Hurt him. Leave. 

Aventurine didn’t speak.

“And yet, perhaps illogically, in a completely unwise manner, everything that I am… is in love with you. As much as there are things I may not like, this I can say with certainty; I love you. Aventurine, I love you.”

Aventurine… couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t look away from Ratio’s eyes, who was looking at him so earnestly, so openly honest, that it was almost aggressive. This was a man telling the truth, laying himself bare to await judgment. 

“Aventurine?”

“You can’t,” he whispered.

Ratio’s eyes hardened.

“I do.”

“You can’t.”

“And yet. Here I am, loving you. Have been loving you.”

Aventurine thought back to the highlighted text, the comments going back years. 

He closed his eyes. 

“Do you wish to disappear?”

Aventurine opened his eyes.

“What a strange question,” he said, smiling. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”

In front of him stood the Emanator, Acheron, looking at him without judgment. Without much of anything, in fact, except perhaps a little curiosity. It was strangely comforting. 

“I’ve met many desperate people,” she said in that low, careful voice of hers. Aventurine liked it. “Desperate to live, desperate to disappear, and many more who were too scared to consider it. It’s the first time, however, that I meet someone walking such a thin line between two extremes.”

He didn’t respond immediately, letting the absolute silence wash over him for a little while. He could get lost in it. Might get lost in it.

“What a dubious honour,” he finally said. “Should I be happy that I might leave a lasting impression on someone like yourself, even faintly?”

“I’m… not sure. I’ve long understood that the importance of the memories doesn’t mean anything, I risk losing them all the same. No matter my feelings on the matter, I might forget you completely. This black hole will swallow everything you are, and there’ll be no traces of you left.”

Looking away, Kakavasha stared out into the incomprehensible darkness, feeling the pull. He stayed where he was, left hand clenching into a fist.

“Is that what you want to hear?”

Kakavasha blinked and looked back at Acheron, who was smiling at him.

“You might disappear from my memories, but that isn’t true for everyone. I’m afraid you’ve already left marks, and the scar your departure would inflict won’t heal easily, if it ever does. If you were hoping to disappear completely… I’m afraid it’s already too late.”

His right hand tightened around the small bottle, the ‘prescription’ that had been made specifically for him, specifically for this. 

Someone hoped he’d come back. 

“That’s not much, compared to everything else,” he said. “Not much to bet everything on.”

Not much of me left.

Her smile grew.

“Isn’t that all you need?”

Silence. 

Aventurine smiled back. 

“I guess… I really am desperate.”

She nodded.

“Good. I hope you’ll continue to be. Emptiness… isn’t as comfortable as it might seem.”

Finally, he started walking, slipping the prescription in his pocket. To keep.

As he went to pass by her, she laid a hand on his shoulder.

“This memory might erode, so I’ll trust you to remember this.”

She squeezed his shoulder, just enough that he’d feel it, then continued.

“I hope we meet again, friend.”

In the shadow of Nihility, nothing could endure for long. 

But maybe… just a little more.

“Likewise… friend.”

Eyes still closed, Aventurine let himself smile slowly. 

“It won’t be easy, you know? Professor, are you really ready for this? There won’t be going back. This wretched soul of mine won’t let you forget your words.”

A gentle touch, a forehead coming to rest against his, soft hair tickling his temples. 

“Who exactly do you take me for? You think I would say those words without being absolutely certain? Without having tested it, observed it, again and again? I already know there is no going back from this, even without you knowing, it would have been the same. You have changed me, everything I am knows you now, forgetting would be impossible. So I must ask you in return…”

A soft rustling, then the barely-there touch of fingers, softly, oh-so-carefully tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, then lingering.

“Aventurine, are you ready to accept this? To try?”

Under his hand, the strong chest faltered on a breath, the hand holding his twitched, the fingers at his ear retreated. It was like a discordant note in a mesmerizing melody, and Aventurine’s heart twinged. 

“Because if not, I can wait,” said Ratio, pulling back from him.

Unacceptable. 

Before Ratio could even attempt to take a step back, Aventurine opened his eyes, tightened his hold on his hand and pulled. Ratio’s wide eyes met his (had he been staring this whole time?), and the doctor fell back forward with a surprised inhale. Their foreheads knocked back together a little painfully, but neither of them even thought to flinch. Gazes locked together, Aventurine held their hands against his own chest, his teeth aching, instincts telling him to bite down and to keep. Instead he loosened his hold, intertwining their fingers more securely. 

“Maybe you don’t actually know me that well, doc,” he taunted, heart at the back of his throat. “I’m not the kind of person to do things halfway, after all. If I decide something, I’m all in. Or maybe you’re afraid?”

After a second of stunned silence, Ratio chuckled, eyes sparkling with all the colours of the dawn.

“Don’t underestimate me, gambler. Never in my life have I taken anything I choose to do lightly, and you wouldn’t be able to guess how much weight this holds for me. How much you weigh in my mind, you infuriating, distracting, irreplaceable menace. Never doubt your unique ability to drive me absolutely crazy.”

Chest bursting with what felt like all the light of an exploding sun, Aventurine laughed, tilting his head up further, tasting the air between their lips.

“My dear doctor, if that’s the case, then I shall endeavour to continue to be a menace at your side for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Careful,” Ratio whispered, eyes halfway closed, tilting forward like he couldn’t help himself. “This might be a bet you aren’t ready for.”

“Try me,” Aventurine breathed against his lips, and then there were no more words. 

Ratio kissed him like a man dying of thirst, free hand wrapping around his waist to pull him firmly against his chest and almost bending him backwards with his eagerness to seemingly wrap himself around his body. It was a little clumsy, but as Aventurine tangled his fingers into violet locks and kissed back with a ferocity he thought he’d locked away, his only thought was yes. Want me more, hold me more tightly, never let me go. Dig your nails in if you must, so that you don’t notice the blood on my teeth. His nails lightly scratched at Ratio’s scalp and he felt the man’s whole body shiver, mouth pressing urgently against his. He welcomed it gladly, opening up without a shred of dread or discomfort. How novel this all was, how overwhelming. He pressed himself closer, angled his head further, and Ratio responded with an approving rumble that warmed him down to his toes.

When they broke away for air, Aventurine kept his eyes closed for just a few seconds, breathing it all in. When he finally blinked, Ratio was watching him again, the stern lines of his face softened in such a way that Aventurine really couldn’t resist rising up on his toes to plant another kiss on his lips, delighting in the surprised noise it punched out of his dear doctor, smiling as Ratio tried to follow his mouth as he pulled back. 

“We’re still in your office, you know?” Aventurine whispered, smile widening as Ratio simply bent down further to reach his neck, following its curve with his lips. “Who knew the illustrious Doctor Ratio could do something so scandalous at his place of work, dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge.”

“There are many things I wish to know,” Ratio said back without pulling his mouth away from the underside of his jaw, eliciting some delicious shivers. “At this particular moment, there is nothing more important to learn than the taste of your skin, the sound of your voice and the feel of your hands while you’re here, in my arms. I am a scholar at my core, and I intend to discover as much as I can of this field of study.”

Aventurine snorted. He couldn’t help it, who knew the doctor could say those kinds of things without feeling embarrassed? He tried to pull his left hand, still entangled with Ratio’s, but was met with immediate resistance. Looking up, he was met with a frown that, at some point, probably made some unfortunate souls cry. Right now, however, Aventurine could not find it anything but… cute. Resisting the urge to laugh, he tugged again, to no avail.

“Ratio…”

“What is it?”

“I can’t hug you like this.”

A second passed, then his fingers were slowly, reluctantly released. Smiling, feeling warmer than he could ever remember being, Aventurine slid his arm around Ratio’s strong shoulders at the same time as he was pulled again against a broad chest. Ratio, again, wrapped himself around him and tucked his head in his neck, tickling him slightly with both his hair and his breath. Aventurine, perfectly content, leaned his head against the crown of dark hair, not quite closing his eyes as they idly fell on the door, still locked. The windows were half-closed, close enough to the ground that a fall would hurt, but not incapacitate. Positioning his arms more comfortably around Ratio, he smiled as the man nuzzled him slightly in return, and wondered distractedly if anyone would try and stop him again if he left through campus, or if he’d have to find a long way around. His car was parked near the—

“I know you can’t stay here forever,” Ratio spoke against his skin. “I know you probably couldn’t stand to. We both have places to go to, paths to tread. You’ve already… walked many roads. I cannot tell you which road to take, or how long to follow it, that’s not my place. But if our paths can converge, and I know they can, I’ll walk with you. Aventurine, if you choose, today, tomorrow, whenever you look back…”

Ratio pulled back slightly without letting go of him, just enough to look him in the eyes again. The look on his face was painfully tender, but in his was burned a determination that was anything but weak, that couldn’t even be called gentle. He finished his words with a seriousness that felt almost out of place.

“... I’ll be here.”

Aventurine’s hands clenched into the fabric covering Ratio’s shoulders, scrunching it up, before he forced them to relax. He thought about taking off his shoes and resting for a moment on this couch, listening to the faint sounds of the doctor working at his desk. He thought about closing his eyes and laying his head on a familiar shoulder, for no reason other than he desperately wanted to.

“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “You’ll make me greedy.”

He thought about staying, for as long as he could.

In front of him, Ratio smiled, wide and happy. Because of him. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” said the man he loved, and who loved him in return.

How terrible, thought Aventurine, before dragging Ratio down to kiss him again. How terrifying.

How… warm. 

And then, distracted by Ratio’s hands sneaking under his shirt, he stopped thinking at all.

PERSONAL NOTES 

Highlighted section from Geological, a Universal Archive: [...] 

Comment from DR. RATIO : Good mineral for a ring.

Reminder : Buy more cups, that gambler drinks more coffee than water. (Second reminder : fix that.)

PERSONAL NOTES 

Highlighted section from CLASS 305 ESSAY QUESTIONS VERSION 4: [...] 

Comment from AVENTURINE OF STRATAGEMS : I finished work early, wanna go home together?

Reply from DR. RATIO : This is private, confidential information you shouldn’t have access to, let alone comment on. I’ll be done in 5.

DR. RATIO has logged off.