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"Did you know? People say that when someone dies, they become a star."
Veritas lets out an exasperated huff, the sound followed by the dull thud of a thick tome being shut. The moment they have some downtime and he anticipates finally sitting down and devouring a scientific publication he recently got his hands on...
He silently mourns the lost opportunity but decides to give in and entertain his gambling-addict of a partner nonetheless.
"...Is that so? And where did you hear that, if I may ask?"
Aventurine looks contemplative, and his expression turns gentle, albeit very fleetingly. He turns his body away from the scholar, seemingly studying a bookcase by the door.
"People believed it on a planet I had the pleasure of visiting, long ago," he says, voice soft.
Veritas crosses his arms, studying Aventurine's frame. He cannot make out the blonde’s expression from this angle.
"Surely, you've seen enough during your travels by now to know what stars are, without needing a crash lecture on astronomy?"
To anyone else, it would sound mocking, annoyed. Aventurine, however, seems to find it amusing, letting out a small chuckle. Veritas does not know when he had started allowing his eyes to soften at the sound.
“It was one of the more... closed-off planets, with little technology to speak of and... Well. An inclination towards more fanciful theories, as opposed to scientific ones,” he explains.
Veritas lowers his gaze in contemplation. He wonders about the planets that his partner had previously visited without him, but does not probe.
“Well, every planet starts somewhere. I suppose I am grateful that you are above that primitive belief, at the very least,” remarks Veritas.
Aventurine smiles, expression as controlled as ever, and spreads his arms theatrically.
“But don’t you think it’s a pleasant one? Kind of charming, almost poetic.”
He approaches the scholar in long strides, unbefitting a man of his shorter stature. Veritas, to his own surprise, does not mind the close proximity to his face.
“Have you never wished upon a star, Doctor? Don’t you have a single romantic bone in your body?”
Veritas narrows his eyes in scrutiny, gaze unfaltering. “Romance is simply a neurobiological reaction of the hypothalamus to–”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
Aventurine turns around, sighing in mock disappointment with his hands behind his back. Veritas’ gaze lowers as his brain uselessly points out that the man stands almost a full head shorter than him.
“But wouldn’t it be kind of interesting? If we’re all eventually gonna become stars, then even if we lost each other here, I could still annoy you in the afterlife,” says the gambler, tilting his head back to smirk at him. “Not that I’m losing this gamble. The odds aren’t even that bad, this time.”
He grins wider, baring his teeth openly. Veritas notes that he has two prominent canines, and unexpectedly perfect teeth otherwise. In another’s eyes, Aventurine’s smile may have been considered attractive. This is, of course, simply an objective observation.
Veritas clears his throat and organises his thoughts. “While the glorification of what are essentially dying balls of gas may provide temporary diversion from more pressing issues, the comfort it provides comes hand in hand with cognitive stagnancy.”
Aventurine’s smile returns at twice the brilliance. Veritas’ thoughts inexplicably come to a halt.
“Is escapism a crime? Some people aren’t afforded the luxury of choice in their lives, so they have nothing else to do but dream,” says Aventurine. “Besides...”
His eyes seem to lose their focus and look beyond Veritas. The scholar furrows his brows as he tries to ignore the feeling of discomfort in the pit of his stomach.
“Sometimes, people simply cannot escape from the past. For some people, their wounds will never heal.”
His smile feels emptier now, somehow. Veritas frowns at the sight.
“Is there something–”, he starts.
Aventurine stiffens. For a man with such a big presence, he looks terribly lonely.
Veritas feels his heart ache, but he recognizes boundaries when he encounters them. He gathers his thoughts before continuing.
“Gambler,” he begins hesitantly, unsure. “What do you wish for?”
Aventurine hums contemplatively.
“Most people in this world spend their entire lives just to reach one outcome,” he murmurs. “I simply wish to experience the most beautiful fantasy here, in this wonderful land of dreams. Before... I have to move on to my next destination.”
His voice quiets down to a weary whisper in his last words. Veritas notes that his future plans exclude him, which vexes him for reasons he does not wish to address.
During the time that the two had been stuck in each other’s company, they had grown to know each other reasonably well. Surprisingly, despite their individually insufferable personalities, their relationship had developed into what could be called an amicable partnership. Perhaps he would even call it an enjoyable one.
In an ideal world, Aventurine would not be a doomed man willingly walking into the lion’s den. Veritas would not be at the beck and call of a corporation that he resents, silently grieving for recognition from an arbitrary god that never comes to him, despite his best efforts.
However, he would not simply accept his fate. Even the mundane could muster the effort to carve their own paths in life, whatever their past or current circumstances. Veritas stubbornly believes this with all his heart.
He takes his book and thumps his partner on the head with it, snapping him out of whatever stupor he was in.
The Stoneheart’s shocked expression looking up at Veritas is oddly amusing. This face suits him far better than his previous one.
“You idiot,” Veritas says, offering no explanation.
Aventurine gapes, visibly affronted. Veritas almost feels like smiling as he savours the sight.
“My eyes feel strained from all the business proposals I’ve had to review for you,” Veritas lies smoothly. “Perhaps a vacation is long-overdue for the both of us. Let us wrap up this mission soon and enjoy some respite somewhere far away until the IPC starts burning down without us.”
His partner, still perplexed, manages to mostly recover after a few seconds of gawking. He gulps and looks away.
“Ratio... You can’t be serious. This mission... You’re aware that there was a reason why they assigned me here and not another Stoneheart, right?”
Someone more important, less expendable, goes unspoken. Veritas grits his teeth. Someone whose death would not be mourned, he hears, and his entire being screams at him to refute.
“Do you take me for a fool? How could you possibly entertain the idea of failure, when your partner is me? Don’t speak as if you have no future while we still have an objective to accomplish together.”
Aventurine lets his eyes close in fatigue, face scrunching up slightly. Veritas wishes to press his thumb to the unsightly creases between his partner’s brows.
Internally, he sighs at the lack of reply. It seems that his partner does not have complete faith in him quite yet.
“A wager, then,” he offers uncharacteristically.
Veritas swears he can see his partner’s ears perk up in response. This damn gambler.
He closes his eyes and organises his carefully formulated plans in his mind. Prior to arriving to the Planet of Festivities, he had already been aware of all of the risks. Naturally, there were ways to minimise them, as daunting as their odds were.
He lays his ideas out for his colleague, who listens intently.
“But... For this plan, you..." Aventurine trails off, uncertain.
Veritas knows that this is illogical on his part. He knows that he was never meant to put himself at risk on this mission, that the IPC’s intention was to limit the sacrifice to just one.
“Surely, you do realise that you were not assigned to this mission alone, right?” Veritas says. “Besides, while we may currently share a fate, I have no intention of dying anytime in the near future. Logically, that means you, as well, must stay alive.”
Veritas feels his ears start to burn at what he is saying and fights the urge to leave, feeling all-too vulnerable.
And then Aventurine laughs, and it sounds like songbirds. Veritas has never felt weaker.
His smile is mesmerising, Veritas thinks against his own will.
“Ratio... You’ve been thinking a lot about this, haven’t you?”
Aventurine grins, amused and clearly satisfied.
“Very well. I’ll place my bets on you and your ridiculous plan.”
The blonde man turns around, hiding his expression, but Veritas catches the bounce in his step as he starts walking towards the door.
The scholar huffs out a breath, feeling the tension leave his body. Then Aventurine turns to him with that same bright smile and he feels like he’s losing his mind again.
“In the end, we’ll ruin this beautiful dream together and create the grandest death,” he sings as he waves goodbye and leaves, voice echoing down the corridor.
“Isn’t that right… My dear partner?”
Veritas does not believe in needless sacrifice. He is not a fool, and he does not count himself among the dreamers.
However...
When the curtain falls on their grand plan, he promises to himself that, however illogical it may be, he will face whatever consequences may come with his partner. He refuses to acknowledge these feelings in his chest that he does not quite understand yet.
Perhaps he should read up on dream theory for some more clues to aid in their survival in this fantastical, dangerous planet’s surreal dreamscape.
Veritas Ratio, making the one most foolish decision of his life, smiles to himself.
“All or nothing, gambler,” he swears, when he is sure that the other man cannot hear it.
♠ ♥ ♣ ♦
People say that it’s the ones that shine the brightest that burn out the fastest.
Veritas recalls this information as he steps onto the stage where his partner’s shattered Cornerstone lies, feeling an irrational rage bubble up venomously in his chest. His world feels darker, terrifyingly dark, as his mind conjures up the worst possible scenarios.
However, he is nothing if not a man of science. Nothing is proven until there is factual evidence.
He does not address the growing, illogical anxiety that has no place in his heart. Whatever his gambler’s fate is, they promised that they would face it together.
“All or nothing,” he whispers to himself, as he grips the broken shards resolutely and steps further into the dream.