Chapter Text
All they had wanted to do was try out a new cafe.
Ratio was never one to enjoy spending his money on overpriced desserts, but he, ever the romantic, had begrudgingly admitted that the weather was perfect for it. A warm cup of coffee and a hot snack, with the sun peeking out from behind the clouds? There was a comfort to it that neither of them could deny.
Truthfully, Aventurine wasn’t partial to cafes, either. Jade had trained him to present himself at opulent gatherings and lavish restaurants, and before that… well, he’d be grateful to have any food at all. But cafes? With the status he held? It didn’t suit his image nor his comfort zone.
Even so, Aventurine had no regrets. He’d been bugging the doctor for months to take a break together, go outside and catch up over a meal. Each time, some problem or another had cropped up. A scheduling conflict. A snowstorm. An intern’s disastrous typo of 20% instead of 120% (both of them had their hands full for quite a while after this particular error.)
As such, when Ratio (surprise, surprise!) had initiated and sent a short text asking if he was free for lunch on Friday, how could he say no? And if the only place he could think of was the new cafe that the disaster intern (now relegated to coffee runner) had bought his drink from, what of it? A small price to pay to finally be able to meet up with the good doctor.
Both their orders had been surprisingly good. The fish was moist, the mushrooms were flavourful, and the soup was rich without being too rich. The desserts hadn’t disappointed either - a light and fluffy citrus cake, sweet but not disgustingly so. It wasn’t the best meal that Aventurine had ever had, but it was good enough that he made a mental note of the place as he scraped the crumbs of the cake.
Ratio, too, had only good things to say about the cafe. “A lovely find,” he’d remarked as they walked out of the place. “I should recommend this to my students, should they ask me for future recommendations.” The scowl that accompanied fell flat against the reluctant fondness in his eyes. “Though, I suppose a lesson in professionalism is in order. Asking a teacher for date spot recommendations most definitely crosses the line.”
“Ah, the doctor and his ducklings! How generous of you to lend your knowledge.” Aventurine chuckled. “While I must admit that the cafe is lovely, I doubt that I’ll have the opportunity to visit it often. Perhaps if I go with a client? The food served is fairly comforting, or so I’m told. The atmosphere may lull them into agreeing with my demands.”
He ignored the sharp look Ratio sent his way. He’d been a businessman for too long. Strategy and manipulation were hardwired into his brain. Soft, innocent things like warm food and warmer company were remoulded in his hands to become tools and weapons. It’s just who he was.
It is, perhaps, this hypervigilance that alerts him to the presence boring down on him.
He felt it before he saw it. A looming power, cold and unflinching, approaching with every step. He could feel the shivers run down his spine and the hackles on his neck rise, yet his limbs refused to move. A primal fear - long buried, never forgotten - snuck out from his clenched fist to permeate the rest of his body. Frozen, he waited silently for his assailant to make a move.
They pounce.
-
He was alone.
Where there were once lush trees swaying in the wind, there was now a void. The darkness that sprawled before him was spotted in stars and swirls of galaxies beyond. There was a small trail of light, skimming under his feet and nudging him. Hesitantly, he took a step forward. The ground beneath him felt solid enough. He walked.
A memory resurfaced from the back of his mind. The Trailblazer, loud and energetic, had regaled her tales of her time in the Genius Society’s new contraption. She’d met Aeons, she claimed, and made terrible alcoholic drinks and fought trash cans. If it were anyone else, Aventurine wouldn’t have believed it. Unfortunately, Stelle did have a track record for accomplishing such fictitious feats. It made for extremely good entertainment each time they met, but Aventurine had other things to worry about at the moment.
Though he had only verbal descriptors to work off of, the sight that lay before him was eerily reminiscent of the place that Stelle met the Aeons. Was he, too, about to have his own encounter with one? No, that would be far too presumptuous of him. He hadn’t accomplished anything worthy of their time. Was it all a hallucination, slipped into his food from earlier? That didn’t seem likely, either. Years of serving under his old master’s thumb had strengthened his tolerance for drugs and poisons. It would take an almost lethal amount for it to have any effect on him.
He held his breath as he inched closer. An audience with an Aeon was no small feat. Which one could it possibly be? Maybe Aha. THEY were unpredictable. Maybe THEY’d grabbed Aventurine on a whim. Really, it was the only possible explanation. Just a fluke. Aventurine’s luck worked in mysterious ways, and meeting an Aeon wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.
(There’s a small voice at the back of his mind. Familiar yet unplaceable, they ask if it could be Gaiathra Triclops. Mama Fenge? They whisper, soft and hopeful. Has SHE come to see us now?
Aventurine can’t decide if he yearns or detests the idea.)
The groan of heavy machinery startled him out of his thoughts. There is a seismic shift in the air, a tension that rattles him to his core. The world remains silent, but a single question hangs in the air. Will you run?
Saying that Aventurine stood his ground would be inaccurate. No, it was more as if he could not run. His very being paralyses him in place. The sight before him blurs and shifts, and a flicker of a crooked smile framed by lavender locks flashes across his mind. You’re the last lucky dog, the woman croons. They are no more, either.
Finally, a mess of wires and sheets of metal appeared, groaning as THEY rose from the void. There is a soft whir, and something inside THEM spun to life. The hum of static grew louder and louder. Aventurine caught his breath, choking down a lump in his throat.
The glow of red that emits from the center of the Aeon is neither warm nor friendly. It is the laser sight on a gun, with the intensity of a predator finding its prey. It is cold and unfeeling and all-powerful. As it blinked open, Aventurine realised, his heart dropping to his gut, that this was not a bet that he could win. He would die here, cold and alone and gutted at the hands of a being he could not outwit, could not outrun, and Ratio - he wanted to eat with Ratio again, he hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed, he was sorry-
Nous turns THEIR gaze onto Aventurine, and he -
-
“-venturine, wake up, Aventurine, I’m going to call an ambulance-”
A haze glossed over Aventurine’s eyes as he came to. He could hear a voice, steady but tinged with panic, flitting around him. A dark blob was moving in front of him, shaking his shoulder while balancing a phone to their ear.
“Topaz, I apologise for Aventurine’s absence, but I must send him to the hospital immediately,” The space between Ratio’s eyebrows scrunched up. “Now, do excuse me-”
“Ratio?” Aventurine croaked out.
In a flash, Ratio was by his side. “Do you feel nauseous? If the food earlier had disagreed with you, you should not have kept quiet. Now, let’s go to the hospital.”
“Wha’ happen’d?”
“You passed out.” Ratio’s lips were set in a firm line, slinging Aventurine’s arm over his in an attempt to lift him up. “Can you stand? I’ve informed Topaz that you’ll be taking the rest of the day off. We’ll be heading to the hospital for a check-up, just to ensure that this is not a symptom of something worse. Now, up-”
“Ratio,” Aventurine tugged at his arm. “Ratio, I saw Nous. I swear I’m not joking. THEY saw me, and, and… I died, I think.”
“You think you died?”
Aventurine wrinkled his nose. “I… I was in this space, this void of universes, and a large ball of metal turned to face me, and there was this laser red beam that killed me and exploded me into a million pieces.”
Ratio paused. “You’re not joking.”
“No, why would I joke about meeting an Aeon, doctor-”
“Aventurine.” This time, it is Ratio who placed his hands on Aventurine’s arm, strangling them in a vice-like grip. “Aventurine, I am praying to all that is powerful that you are wrong, because a gaze from Nous indicates that you have been-”
“-acknowledged as a genius.” Aventurine was breathless as he finished Ratio’s sentence. “It must be a mistake. Maybe THEY meant to kidnap you instead, the brilliant doctor of the Intelligensia Guild?”
Ratio’s eyes darted away for a second, a flash of something vulnerable and soft within them. It is gone by the time he glances back at Aventurine. “I suppose there is no rush. If the Genius Society has any dealings with you, they will seek you out. For now, we must ensure that there are no aftereffects of such an encounter.” He stood up and offered a hand.
Trust Ratio to say things so plainly. Aventurine laughed as he was pulled up. “Aren’t you insistent on that health check-up? Well, I suppose I have time to spare, since you have oh-so graciously cleared my schedule for me today. What an honour it is to spend so much with such an esteemed doctor!”
Ratio huffs and throws back a blunt retort, but there is no bite to it. Together, with their arms around each other, they make the slow trek to the hospital, laughing and teasing in the way they do best.
And that is that.
-
Unfortunately, the hospital found nothing wrong with him, and sent him back with a clean bill of health and a reminder to eat 3 meals a day. The last comment has stemmed from an offhand comment that the doctor in charge of his examination had made about his weight, and Ratio had berated the man for his ‘unprofessionalism when handling patients’ for the next 5 minutes. Aventurine hadn’t exactly understood what had Ratio so worked up. It wasn’t as though saying that his flat stomach suited his “pretty boy looks” was a lie - Aventurine knew his charms and how to play them. Nevertheless, it seemed as though Ratio needed an outlet for his pent-up anger, and who was he to stop him?
The true problem hit a few days later.
The first sign that something was wrong was his schedule. When he’d opened it up that morning, it had been rearranged to make way for a meeting labelled ‘Negotiations’. It wasn’t completely unusual for his schedule to have some last minute changes - he’d made some of his own, recently, to help fix the intern’s mistake - but such a vaguely titled meeting had suspicion stirring in his gut. Very few people had the power to move his schedule as they pleased, and even fewer had the audacity to leave him in the dark about the agenda. Every one of them had higher authority than him.
The unease in his heart only continued to grow throughout the day. His projects had been transferred to other Stonehearts. His team members had been relocated to other departments. All he had left was a mound of paperwork, just to wrap up loose ends. It was as though he was being erased, stripped of his position as a Stoneheart and a member of the IPC.
It was nauseating.
It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened to him. He’d nearly been demoted from his position as a Stoneheart after the Penacony fiasco, and Aeons knows how many times people had tried to do off with him while he was rising the ranks. To many people, he was simply an expendable pawn, a fickle gambler with no strings attached. Heck, most of his own strategies involved him putting his life on the line. He wasn’t special. Of course he was replaceable.
So why did he feel so terribly nervous?
(He knows why.
As dire as all the other situations were, he’d had the chance to fight back. Sweet-talk and charm were his weapons of choice, coaxing his audience into overlooking the errors and giving this foolish Avgin child another chance. Even at the poker table, it was his hand laying down the bets, stacking the chips and rolling the dice. He put down the bet. He took the gamble.
He claimed the win.
This time, he has no say in how the game is played. Bigger, omnipotent forces are at work here, and for all his luck, he cannot defy an all-powerful deity. Who is he, in the grand network of Aeons and factions and pathstriders?
A little orphan boy.
This time around, all he can do is lay down and wait to die.)
-
“Frankly speaking,” Herta drawls, spinning her large key behind her as she lounged in her seat, “The offer we’re proposing is more than generous, given his situation.”
Aventurine shifted in his chair. Next to him, Jade shot him a quick, disapproving glance. You are a Stoneheart. Show no weakness. When he’d first joined the IPC as a small, malnourished runt, Jade had forced him through every etiquette lesson she could. No slouching. No grabbing the entire cup. Food should only be consumed in small bites. Never finish your food in front of a client. Leave a tasteful amount on the plate as leftovers. He’d been honed, polished, until he became a perfect machine of the upper echelon.
Jade cupped one hand over her teacup, slender fingers pointed and sharp. “While I appreciate the generosity of a genius such as yourself, Madame Herta, it would be irresponsible of me to ignore the gaping hole that the loss of my lovely subordinate would leave behind.”
Lovely subordinate. No one ever described him as lovely unless he was being used for one thing or another. He would grit his teeth if he wasn't so used to it already.
Herta sighed. Aventurine racked his brains for anything that he could recall about her. All that surfaced was a rant that Ratio had gone on, once, about how flippantly she’d viewed the people around her in favour of her own research. Looking at her now, he could see what Ratio meant. For the past hour or so that this meeting had run on for, it was clear that she had no interest in what Jade had to say, unless it could potentially benefit her.
Luckily, tackling difficult clients like her was what the IPC did best.
“Madame,” Aventurine leaned forward, eyes meeting Herta’s gaze. “It’s clear that you are set on recruiting me to the Genius Society. The IPC, too, values the Genius Society greatly. So how about we make the most of this opportunity? We help you to set up trade routes. We become your exclusive supplier for all the goods that the Herta Space Station needs. You won’t even need to settle the logistics - when I join you, it can become one of my duties. It seems like a very good offer, don’t you think? I’ve heard that the supercomputers that you use have very rare and unique parts.”
With a tsk, Herta tapped her key on the table. The tremor reverberated through the surface. “What a slippery businessman. I must admit, there’s merit to such a suggestion. Asta will appreciate the help, I suppose, unnecessary as it is.” Her dark eyes bore into Aventurine, seemingly trying to dig up his soul through sheer force of will. “Tell me, should a genius waste their time doing administrative work?”
Aventurine does not falter. “Do you believe me to be a genius in the first place, Madame?”
Herta paused.
There are few things that Aventurine would call his forte. One is, of course, the god-given luck that carried him though life and swept him away, time and time again, from the jaws of death. The second is his looks, an androgynous beauty and slender body that makes people want more.
The last thing is the only one out of the three that he’s ever been in control of. It is a skill that he’s honed over time, meticulously trained and sharpened. It bends at his will, but holds strong in the face of danger. It slithers, like water, yet slices like a blade.
It is his ability to read people.
It isn’t just their words. Taking note of body language has become second nature to him. People’s tells are more trustworthy than the manufactured flowers that spill from their lips, twisting and turning like slippery eels. Most people - good people, with honest upbringings and straightforward intentions - cannot lie. Something about them will always give them away.
(Aventurine doesn’t think anyone has ever caught his lies.)
Across from him, Herta began to chuckle.
“A miscalculation, it seems,” The smile on her face is thin and calculating. “I accept. Now let’s go. We may make a genius of you yet.”
-
His new office is huge.
A Stoneheart’s office is nothing to scoff at, to be fair. It was the size of a master bedroom, fitted with a couch, an office chair, and a long table. There was plenty of space to store any paperwork or resources while leaving room for personalised decorations.
Aventurine had decked his out with his gambler motif in mind. Display shelves, accented with gold, proudly showed off his collection of expensive souvenirs that he’d taken from various casinos. Most of them were just for show, but there were a few trinkets of sentimental value scattered in the mix. A metal tipped ace of hearts from his first poker game. A custom made set of commemorative dice from Ratio. A marble statue of an owl, just to shake things up. He’d stolen it from Ratio’s sculpture room, almost complete but not quite. Somehow, he’d become rather attached to the deformed bird. Today, Alethia ‘Thia’ the owl was a permanent fixture in his office, and he made sure to silently greet it each day.
A few geniuses on the Herta Space Station had been kind enough to give him a (albeit, vague) tour of the compound, and he’d managed to sneak a peek into some of their offices. They’d certainly been eccentric, filled with messy computer parts and diagrams and the occasional bioethical hazard. He supposed it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary - they were geniuses, after all.
“Your room is next to Stephen’s,” Puppet Herta gestured in the direction of a plain metal door. Stephen. Right. The genius who worked on the Simulated Universe. Must be smart. “He didn’t want to come out today, but you’ll see him soon… someday. Use this room as you’d like, I don’t care. Just make sure it doesn’t interfere with my work.”
She threw open the door.
The room itself was double the size of a basketball court. Sprawling and incredibly wide, it was completely devoid of any decorations. In fact, there was nothing there at all. No furniture, no built-in shelves, not even a single speck of dirt on the floor. Everything was sterile and empty.
But what made Aventurine pause was the view through the full-length windows.
With how robotic and closed off the Herta Space Station was, it was easy to forget that they were hovering in the cosmos. A vast, inky darkness lay as the backdrop to swirls of delicate lights, pinpricks of stars dancing in and out of existence along their planes. Deep, rich ringlets spun around gracefully, so close that he could almost reach out and touch them. Explosions of colours burst forth and faded just as quickly.
From the corner of his eye, he watched as a tiny ship set forth into the infinity. His eyes follow it as it weaves past meteors and planets galore. It’s a bit of a game, trying to see how long he can keep the ship in his sights. He manages to follow it through a few more ringlets before it is swallowed up by the void.
The scene is ethereal. Millions of people would have killed to witness even a fraction of its glory. And yet, as Aventurine gazed at the beauty before him, he could not help but feel absolutely helpless.
It’s irrational. Both logic and etiquette told him that he should be grateful for what he has been given. Lucky bastard. So why does he feel so empty?
It’s nothing new. He could pinpoint so many instances throughout his life where he was hyper aware of his aching loneliness. The day he became a Stoneheart. The instant that Acheron unsheathed her blade. The shadowy sight of his home, blood and fire mixed into an endless sea of red. It was something that had never left; in fact, the one thing that remained a constant throughout his life was that he was as beautiful as he was alone.
Yet, for all his gripes and self-loathing, he found a perverse sort of joy in his isolation. The same tarp that smothered him also curled itself around him like a warm cocoon. He’s sure that there’s some logic to it, some psychological theory that he plays directly into. He should ask Ratio. Ratio would know. He’s the doctor. He’s smart and intelligent and has too many PhDs to count, and Aventurine is-
Decidedly not.
He spent the rest of the day lying on the floor, trying to quell the chill that seeped into his body.
-
Aventurine had to admit, being a genius does have its perks.
For one, no one ever questioned him. If he asked for something, workers fell over their feet trying to get it to him as fast as possible. A pot of tea? Delivered to his room before he arrived back. A bowl of soup that could only be made with fresh herbs native to the Xianzhou Luofu? Piping hot on the tongue, with a tray of side dishes served on the dining cart. Even moving his copious amounts of stuff into his new room is a breeze. All he had to do was draw a shaky floor plan, and suddenly all his furniture and bedding and whatever else was tidily arranged for him.
It’s intensely jarring. There hadn’t been a day in his life where people didn’t spit in his direction for some reason or another. It didn’t matter if it was an unfavourable deal or the vibrance of his eyes. All he knew was that he was someone who was regularly held in contempt by the world around him. And yet, the people at the space station didn’t seem to care at all. They did as they were told, all too eager, waiting on his every move voluntarily.
He couldn’t blame them. He would have done the exact same thing in their shoes. A newbie member of the Genius Society, clearly confused and in need of help? It was a gold mine of an opportunity. Play the role of the sweet and kind friend who would always have his back, and the chances of being boosted to a higher position with an even higher pay would shoot up. So he smiled sweetly at each of the workers, laughed at their atrocious jokes, and tried not to yawn in their faces at how boring they were. Predictable.
In his boredom, he daydreamed about what Ratio might have done in such a situation. The good doctor wouldn’t have been half as kind. He’d scoff to their faces and lecture them about useless grovelling and rewards earned through their own merit. He was always so prim and proper, yet his attitude held an edge of insolence that kept Aventurine on his toes. You never knew when he was going to go from teaching to scolding. Aventurine had learnt it the hard way, after he’d made one too many jokes when Ratio had tried to teach him basic physics. All he’d said was that electricity would be a bad partner because it couldn’t conduct itself! Really, there was no need for Ratio to go about calling him an ‘incorrigible peacock with more feathers than focus’. How rude!
Before he knew it, he had picked up the phone and scrolled to his chat with Ratio. Their conversations had been sparse ever since Aventurine was announced to be the newest Genius Society member, and they were always short and curt. Ratio would ask how Aventurine was settling in, and Aventurine would reply “Hectic, but manageable.” Each time, Aventurine was tempted to add on more, talk about the overcooked rice he had for lunch or how Thia the owl was now delicately perched behind his desk. It was almost embarrassing how much he overshared with Ratio.
Heck, he’d once asked Ratio for his thoughts on the other Genius Society members. He could imagine the scoff that escaped Ratio as he read his message. “If you have so much time to spare asking the questions,” Ratio replied, “you could use it to talk to them.” Still, it was kind of him to proceed to talk about his thoughts on Stephen Lloyd, the genius who was supposedly his neighbour.
Groaning, he flopped over in his chair. The paperwork for Herta’s materials was tedious, and he had no motivation to work on them. His curiosity towards his neighbour also grew by the day. Despite the fickle nature of most of the geniuses, Ratio had described Stephen quite favourably. Intelligent and focused sometimes, though he has a penchant for gaming whenever he can. It had been clear that Ratio had interacted with him quite a few times, yet Aventurine hadn’t even caught a glimpse of his shadow. It would be fun to talk to someone. Maybe he’d even be convinced to play a few games of poker with him, or share a drink sometime.
A series of loud thuds began echoing from the corridor, growing louder by the second.
Startled, Aventurine jumped up. Call him nosy, but nothing exciting ever happened in the Space Station. It was almost a little pathetic to see how eager he was to find something new and exciting. Topaz would have laughed in his face. Creeping slowly towards the door, he peered through the cracks.
The door slammed open in his face.
With an undignified yelp, Aventurine landed on his back. Rubbing his hand on his smarting face, he summoned a shield and prepared to face the intruder.
“Shh!” the person in front of him hissed. “Do you want them to come find us? Now, hide!” Without further ado, he tugged at Aventurine’s coat, dragging him behind the large oak table.
Every part of Aventurine’s body was still aching, but he managed to blink away his tears and assess the person before him. His back was facing him, but the blue haired figure curled up against him was undeniably small. In fact, Aventurine would go so far as to say that he was a child, if he wasn’t absolutely sure that children had no place on the Herta Space Station. Even his clothing was that of a child. Dark blue overalls and a white starched button up, adorned with a small black scarf around his neck? He looked like an extremely nerdy kid.
“Excuse me,” Aventurine started, “but who are you?”
The boy jumped before quickly composing himself. Clearing his throat, he retorted, “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Why were you in my room, hiding behind the door like that? How suspicious. Just because I’m a child doesn’t mean I’m a pushover, you know! Have some respect!”
Aventurine’s first instinct was to shove the child.
He really had nothing against kids, alright? He was just never good with them. Growing up alone gave him a warped yardstick for what was healthy for a child, and besides, his strange eyes and brand on his neck often scared them. They were cute sometimes, but he mostly saw them as small adults, and his stance towards adults was that if they annoyed him, if they were being idiots, he would whack them. Figuratively or literally, it didn’t matter.
…Wow. Maybe Ratio had rubbed off on him more than he’d thought.
In a fit of what Aventurine could only describe as uncharacteristic patience, he sat and stared at the child, waiting silently.
The kid’s hands began to tremble imperceptibly. “O-oh, I mean, it’s rude to hide behind someone’s door… and scary, a little… I mean, uh, it’s not nice! And why are you in my room? I w-was…” He glanced around, and his shoulders raised in alarm. “O-oh, this isn’t my room, is it? Is this your room, mister?”
“Ah, yes.” At a loss at how to respond, Aventurine shot him his million-dollar smile. It was practiced, poised, and most importantly, made him seem less threatening. “I’m Aventurine. I’m new here, so maybe you don’t-”
The boy let out a loud gasp. “You’re the new genius! Madame Herta told me about you. You’re from the, uh, the corporation, right? ICP?”
“A former member of the IPC, indeed.” Aventurine could feel his smile waning. “Perhaps this is a little rude to ask so far into our delightful conversation, but who are you exactly?”
“Oh, sorry. I’m-”
“STEPHEN!” Madame Herta’s booming voice echoed through the corridor. “Stop slacking off! We need you to fix some bugs in the Simulated Universe!”
With the tiniest eep!, the child curled up into a ball. “Please don’t let her find me, please, Mister Aventurine! Just let me hide for a bit and I’ll be on my way, I promise!”
Wait a minute.
“You’re my neighbour,” Aventurine breathed, eyes wide. “Stephen Lloyd?”
Stephen blinked. “Uh, most people know me as a member of the Genius Society, but… I think so?”
Oh Aeons. The esteemed member 85 of the Genius Society was a child? If he hadn’t doubted Nous’ judgement before, he certainly did now.
His thoughts were interrupted by Herta slamming the door open and storming in. “Mister Aventurine, have you by any chance seen Stephen? Small child, this tall, blue hair?”
Aventurine stood up from behind the deck, ignoring the way his spine popped and cracked. “Madame Herta! To what do I owe the pleasure-”
“I have no time for your frivolities.” Herta sniffed. “Have you seen Stephen? Yes or no?”
He pretended to ponder for a while. “I can’t say I have. I’ve never met him, even though he’s my neighbour. An elusive man, isn’t he?” He chuckled. “In better news, Madame Herta, your new supercomputer should have just arrived. You can ask Asta to set it up for you.”
Herta’s glare does not vanish, but there is glee in her voice as she responds. “Is that so? Well, I suppose it is my duty to check out the equipment. Bye.”
Aventurine softly shut the door behind him as Herta hurried away. Turning back to face the table, he called, “Stephen, you can come ou-”
A mop of blue hair sprang up from behind the table. “Mister Aventurine, that owl looks familiar!”
Aventurine followed his line of sight to Thia the owl. “Ah, yes. You can say that I took it from a good friend of mine.”
“It looks like Doctor Ratio!” Stephen craned his neck up, too short to comfortably look at the statue. “Doctor Ratio gave me a small statue of a duck once. It looks similar. N-not that owls and ducks look the same, I’m not stupid - but the… the art looks like the same person made it.”
Craftsmanship, Aventurine’s brain supplied as he gazed cautiously at the energetic child. “Quite sharp. The owl was indeed made by Doctor Ratio. We’ve worked together on multiple occasions, which is how I managed to get my hands on-” he tapped the owl lightly. “-this beauty over here.”
Stephen’s eyes were still gleaming. “I don’t get to see Doctor Ratio often, but he - he’s always quite kind. He also talks to me properly, not like the other people at the Space Station who keep doing these weird voices.” He wrinkled his nose. “Oh, then you must be the damned gambler he kept talking about! His friend in the IPC!”
“Former IPC,” Aventurine’s mouth supplied as he mulled over Stephen’s words, dazed. “Does the doctor talk about me that much?”
“He tries to avoid it, because he said that I’ll be badly influenced, but he talks about you a lot. He told me you know about slot machines and gambling, and we put a little feature of it in the Divergent Universe - have you tried that out yet? I worked on a lot of that.”
There was a giddiness that settled in Aventurine that he couldn't trace. Of course Ratio mentioned him occasionally - it would be impossible not to, what with how closely they worked together. And yet there was a small, hopeful beam that shone through, whispering He remembered us! He talks about us!
How irrational. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to shut it down.
“You know, Stephen,” Aventurine started, lips quirking into a smile, “I’ve worked with Ratio a lot, which means I have tons of stories to tell about him. Do you want to hear?”
And oh, he hadn’t expected his heartstrings to be tugged on that day, but with the way Stephen’s eyes shone and his head nodded enthusiastically, how could he not? Aventurine wasn’t so heartless as to reject such an ecstatic child.
“Alright, Stephen,” Aventurine dragged a chair over for him to sit in, “Take a seat. It seems that we have a lot to discuss. Now, did you know that Ratio has a rubber duck collection?”