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Veritas had not given much thought as to why he was invited as a guest speaker to the IPC’s latest episode of Keeping Up With Star Rail.
He is a known technical consultant to the IPC, and is often Aventurine’s partner on missions. He has witnessed the man not just as a delegate of the IPC, but as a combatant—for as much as one can be a combatant by relying on the enemy being fool enough to attack first to deflect their strikes.
He digresses.
It is to no one’s surprise that he would be the closest possible authority to concisely explain how Aventurine is on the field, besides the man himself. Unsuited as his mathematics may be to Aventurine’s pinball machine-like combat methods, he is no ignoramus; it is easy enough to infer the mechanics with observation alone.
And so, he attends the latest celebrity showcase with book and bust in tow, no notes necessary given his memorization of Aventurine’s methods. Where Owlbert simplifies the mechanics in Aventurine’s combat style, he adds his own comments—
“Having skin in the game is a foolish choice, but he always comes out unscathed so he never learns his lesson.”
“Aventurine only believes in striking first. I fear his frontal lobe will never learn to wait and counter-attack.”
—with the intention of reminding not just Aventurine, but all the viewers as well, that all the riches, power, and strength in the world mattered not when you continuously risk your life with impudent gambles. Aventurine just so happens to be the lucky fool who could come out physically unharmed regardless of all these risks; such a thing would not be so easily applicable to the average citizen.
And, in the same manner that he doesn’t give much thought to the IPC’s choice in co-host, he does not put much mind to the stage setup that reflects his personal taste unusually well either. It’s not exactly private knowledge that he enjoys his ablutions and rubber duck companions, more so with the photo of himself during a bath often making rounds and gaining traction. He assumes that the tub-inspired couch and rubber duck are due to the IPC’s “generous” nature, subtly currying favor with him using their little trinkets or emphasizing just how much they know about him, and leaves it at that.
What he does not expect is the notion that Aventurine himself would choose to invite him, or that the respect he has for the man is, well:
“”Mutual”? What did he say about me?”
“Aventurine personally asked for Dr. Ratio to be our guest today. He said…”
It would have been one thing, if Aventurine had merely sought his expertise as a colleague. He is an educator at heart, regardless of all his accomplishments; it would be remiss of him if he passed up the opportunity to educate any student, even if it’s for something as impractical as Aventurine’s combat style.
But to have Aventurine predict his own words, his own thoughts, and to argue with him even without being truly present and making use of Owlbert as his proxy?
It was jarring, utterly shameful , how it had left him discombobulated even if only for a few seconds.
And Aventurine seems to know this, that sly gambler, with the way he immediately texts Veritas once the recording is over.
[Chat Transcript]
Aventurine: I didn’t know you had it in you to be so adorable, doctor
Aventurine: It’s a shame I couldn’t witness it in person!
He frowns. A fool through and through, even through text messages. He texts back:
Dr. Ratio: I implore you to consult an ophthalmologist, as it seems your sense of sight may be failing you.
Aventurine: It baffles the mind that you could be so aware of your conventional attractiveness yet fail to see how you could be equally adorable
Aventurine: You’re missing out on life’s varied beauties!
Dr. Ratio: I am well aware of the cultural variations in prescribing aesthetic value to certain characteristics.
Dr. Ratio: You, on the other hand, are equating the quality of personal entertainment with being “adorable”. As you can tell, I do not appreciate the comparison.
Dr. Ratio: Is there anything else of import that you wish to share, or did you send a message merely to provoke me?
Simultaneously vexed and curious he may be, reading Aventurine’s reply isn’t so important that he needs to see his answer immediately. He dismisses the chat from his screen to check on his email, ensuring that there are no urgent concerns to be taken care of (like, say, a wayward techno-biological experiment), before tucking his phone away with a huff of breath.
It is then that he chooses to give an indulgent, pleased pat at the new rubber duck that had been handed to him, now magnetically pinned right next to his golden shoulder piece. It had been decor chosen specifically for him, Owlbert had noted, and he’d been told that he was free to take it if he so wished to.
Ah, but who was he to say no? There were likely very few people who could appreciate a good rubber duck companion like he could.
“It is interesting,” he mutters, both to himself and to the duck as he unclips it from his shoulder to observe it more closely. With fingers delicately stroking the rubber body, he says, “Your design is of better quality than most ducks sold online, one would think you were tailor-made for me. Such attention to detail for your eyes and your magnetized body…”
He does not mention aloud how he can hear the sound of camera lens zooming in at this distance, the movement of the rubber duck’s eyes giving away the none too innocent purpose of the “gift”.
He is no fool, alas. Aventurine surely must be aware of this? The gambler is not at his level of intelligence, yes, but he’s certainly no idiot like the rest of his coworkers.
This must be a game to him. Another gamble with Veritas Ratio as a chip…but for what purpose? What does he seek to gain?
“—Ratio! Doctor!”
He closes his eyes, and sighs.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
He clips the duck back to his shoulder, ensuring that it’s facing Aventurine and, notably, recording him instead of Veritas. “Gambler,” he says, tone clipped. “I wasn’t aware there would be a segment where you would make an appearance?”
“Oh, no no, I’m not here for the show,” Aventurine answers, a polite and entirely false smile lingering on his lips. “I’m just passing by for work, and saw you. Did you not read my reply?”
“Unfortunately, not yet,” Ratio sighs, pulling out his phone to check his messages. He pulls up Aventurine’s name, and reads:
[Chat Transcript]
Aventurine: I had them prepare the set for you, and told them you can take the decor home! I know how much you like your rubber ducks and bath times!
Aventurine: Also, I’ll be in the area for a bit, so I’ll see you when I’m there
“I should’ve known,” he mutters, tucking his phone away once more to give Aventurine a wary look. “You do so enjoy flaunting your wealth to whoever is…hm, “fortunate” enough to be in your vicinity.”
“Ah, but that’s simply not true,” Aventurine insists, wagging a maddening finger at him as if he were an unruly child. “I’m only this generous with friends, doctor! Seeing as we work together so often, I only thought it right to gift you a little something to keep up the good partnership.”
“I am not someone who can be bought, Aventurine. I seem to recall telling you this already—multiple times, at that.”
“Oh, I’m perfectly aware.” Those magenta-cyan eyes look straight up at him, almost as if intending to hypnotize with their ethereal quality. Had Veritas been a lesser man, perhaps he’d be charmed, but he’s not so shallow to be taken in by looks alone.
Aventurine is a man whose worth could never be defined by such superficial standards, regardless. Were he not so insufferably arrogant, Veritas could have more easily praised him for his tenacity and cunning nature in the face of the world’s cruelty.
“And yet, you have decided to custom order a bathtub-inspired sofa, and had this,” here, Veritas gestures to the rubber duck on his shoulder, “designed for me.” With narrowed eyes, he adds, “What is the purpose of such a gift, if not to keep an eye on me in some way, gambler? Surely, you do not think me so gullible to be swayed by such largesse?”
“No? Then what must a humble gambler do to sway the eminent Scholar King, if such offerings are unacceptable?”
“You—”
Aventurine smiles.
It’s a fragile thing, his smile. Similar to that sad, performative smile he’d made when Veritas had acted according to his script in Penacony, yet a tad more honest in its delivery now.
Veritas bites his tongue, and pinches his nose.
Ah, how bothersome, this foolish man.
So be it, then. If he cannot listen to words of concern, then—
“—fine.”
Aventurine blinks. “Fine?”
“You say that you’re here for work. Pray tell, how long will your tasks take you?”
Aventurine blinks again, clearly befuddled now. “Ah, no longer than half a system hour, I’m certain. Did you have something in mind?” Quickly regaining his vigor, he adds, “Am I going to be taught by Dr. Veritas Ratio himself? I can always free up my schedule for you, doctor.”
“You are beyond teaching,” Veritas scoffs. “But, indeed, I do have something in mind for you. You may reach out to me once you are done with your business so we can immediately be on our way.”
“Oh? Well, consider me intrigued! Where should we meet?”
He cocks a brow. “Still keeping up the pretense, are we?”
“I don’t know what you mean, doctor. Mind clarifying for this clueless gambler?”
Those colorful eyes smile with mischief. Veritas once again wonders on the incalculable amount of patience he has for this incorrigible gambler, and frowns. What was it, really, that piqued his interest for this man? Was it his sheer potential, ever-restrained by his own set of circumstances? Was it his odd string of successes regardless of his idiotic schemes?
He gives a hum, and shakes his head.
“I would prefer not to debase myself with your inanities.” He reaches up, unclipping the rubber duck from his shoulder, and considers it with a thoughtful gaze.
Then he looks up to Aventurine, meeting his gaze directly, and presses that duck up to his lips for a seeming kiss on its little beak.
He does not bother to smile at the choked up sound that escapes the fool before him.
“Find me once your work is done, Aventurine.”
“I-wh-huh? Wait—”
He doesn’t bother to indulge in observing Aventurine’s gawping face, turning away as he clips the rubber duck back onto his shoulder. With a casual wave of his right hand, he walks away, leaving the other man shocked and sputtering in his wake.
Truly, one need only play similar games with such a gambler to catch them off guard. He may not be a betting man, but…
When it comes to schemes, he is no novice.
Unlike Veritas’ experience with Aventurine during the Penacony mission, the gambler is not late in finding him post-meeting.
But then, Veritas would be sorely disappointed if he were, given how he’d chosen to wait in the man’s office. He’d practically handed his presence over on a silver platter—Aventurine would have to be a worse fool than most if he couldn’t find him still.
“You’re not late, good,” he hums, tucking his codex away into his inventory as he regards Aventurine’s suspiciously bright demeanor. He doesn’t look harried, nor does he look stressed; while he can’t presume to know the man more than anyone else, he can at least deduce that the meeting wasn’t one with the other Stonehearts. “And I assume you are now available for, say, a few hours?”
“You have the rest of my day, doctor! I’ve settled all meetings and documents needed for today, and with my luck, there won’t be anything else urgent for the evening. So, what will it be for today? Do you intend to finally make use of my endless well of wealth and connections in your pursuit of knowledge?”
Veritas gives him a look, then smiles. A small, serene smile that he often puts on when enjoying a particularly interesting book, and when he intends to thoroughly educate someone to the point of silence (or, even, tears).
Aventurine, seeing the look on his face, blinks twice in quick succession. “Um, doc?”
“You are correct, for once,” he says, eyes closed as he breathes out a sigh. “While I will not be using your connections in particular, I will be taking your generous offer of wealth. I may not be bought, but I would willingly accept gifts, as would any other man. That is,” he opens his eyes to the sight of Aventurine staring at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, “if the gifts are to my taste.”
“Oh? Oh? You’re finally accepting my offer…that’s great!” Aventurine puts his hand together, the smile on his face not quite erasing the lingering surprise from his words. “Did the bathtub-inspired couch and rubber duck change your mind? If so, I really should have thought of it earlier…”
“Nonsense. I am merely acknowledging the sincerity of your generosity, and thought it adequate to accept given the recent efforts I’ve made to acquire success in our past missions.”
Aventurine laughs. Nothing like his falsely amused laugh to cater to clients, but more like a little chuckle that’s taken him by surprise. “I see you’re considering the, ah, “acting gig” a debt I owe? I’m fine with that. What’s the plan, then? Do you want to buy any new books, limited edition items, or—?”
He stands up from his seat, and makes his way to the door. “Let us go.”
“Um, where exactly?”
“Is it necessary to know?” He opens the door and walks out, even as Aventurine runs to catch up with him. He pauses after considering something, then asks, “Please don’t tell me you’ve been banned from any establishments—”
“Haha, no no, not in any establishments unrelated to gambling, at least!”
“...I shouldn’t have asked.” He sighs. “Just follow after me, gambler, and cease with your meaningless questions.”
“Well, alright!”
“Ooh, suit shopping? A treat not just for you, but for my eyes as well,” Aventurine says, face lit up with interest as he flips through the shop’s catalogue of fabric samples with a keen eye, all while sneaking a peek up at him being measured by the tailoring consultant. Had it been anyone else, any other lustful “admirer” with their filthy gaze upon him, Veritas might have put up a complaint.
But Aventurine is no such lustful suitor, and Veritas has enough of an inkling on his background to know that Aventurine knows better than to be so perverse. He is irreverent, yes, but he’s not so disrespectful of certain boundaries.
This is why Veritas doesn’t mind as much when Aventurine grins at him and says, “With such a beautiful figure, you’d suit anything. Want me to make suggestions?”
“No need, I’m perfectly aware of what suits my body,” he retorts, shaking his head at the puppy-dog look he receives in response. “I am also aware of the colors that suit my complexion.”
“Aw, but it’s my gift to you? Shouldn’t I be allowed to at least make some decisions on this?”
“I have told you that I am more than willing to accept gifts provided they suit my taste,” he huffs. “And I’m afraid your taste in suits is not aligned with my preferences, gambler.”
“Oh come on, you won’t even dare to explore a bit?”
“I am, hence my choice in light colors, unlike my usual preference for the darker end of the color spectrum for my suits.”
"Why not something wine-colored for your eyes? Violet like your hair? There are so many options, Doc," Aventurine pleads, as though it truly distressed him to see Veritas squandering his good will. "I understand this is your gift and you get to choose what you want, but…why not choose the one that you'd like, then accept the extras I'll choose for you?"
"I'm sure you're aware of how costly bespoke suits are, as I doubt the clothes you're wearing are of the ready-made variety."
"Of course! And I believe it's worth every credit to indulge in something beautiful, so won't you indulge me too?"
"…"
What is Veritas Ratio to do with this man?
He waits for the tailoring consultant to finish taking photographs of his body and posture before nodding his head when he steps away. To Aventurine, he gives a critical, narrow-eyed look, then says, "I will accept your offer, provided you accept the condition I set in return."
"A condition for accepting my gifts? You never fail to intrigue me, doctor!" Aventurine closes the catalogue with a snap to set it away, then leans forward to rest his chin on his hands. "Then, what is this condition?"
"For each extra suit you wish to have designed for me," he says slowly, eyeing the eager gleam in colorful eyes, "you will have another suit measured for yourself, according to my preferences."
"…huh?" Aventurine blinks in bewilderment. "You—what?"
"You heard me clearly, I'm sure," he scoffs, before accepting the catalogue the consultant hands to him. He quickly picks some samples out—from something as plain as solid whites to floral creams—before returning the catalogue and gracefully gesturing with a hand to the center of the room, where the consultant is once more waiting with a measuring tape. "Now, will you have your measurements taken, or shall we settle for a single suit?"
"…hah. Hahaha, doctor, how interesting! Was this all a ploy to get me into something more subtle, like you've always berated me for?"
Veritas clicks his tongue. "Is that a yes, or a no, gambler?"
Aventurine laughs again.
He does, however, stand up to have his measurements taken.
"Alright, alright, if you want to see me in something less flamboyant, then I'll acquiesce. Anything for the good doctor," Aventurine teases, smirking at him. "But then, aren't you even a bit nervous on what I'll choose for you? Given my taste and all."
"No."
Aventurine raises a brow. "No?"
"You believe it's worth every credit to indulge in something beautiful," he quotes, raising an eyebrow back as he watches Aventurine being maneuvered to raise his arms by the consultant. And, as with any expert tailoring consultant, the man does his best to act like he is not there at all—as if he were just air, even in the middle of the bantering between one of the Ten Stonehearts and the Intelligentsia Guild's Dr. Veritas Ratio. "I have confidence that you know better than to indulge yourself by dressing me in anything garish or distasteful."
Those mesmerizing, multi-colored eyes narrow with Aventurine's pleased smile.
"Well, I'm glad you understand that I think you're beautiful."
Veritas clears his throat. How frustrating, that he can be so easily unsettled by such simple words. If it were anyone else teasing him in this way, or flirting with him, it would have been simple enough to shut it down with a "no" or with a non-response.
But this is Aventurine. Frustrating, reckless, incorrigible Aventurine, who keeps returning to his side as his partner from the IPC—because they are well-suited to each other, given their past mission records.
Frowning, he says eventually, "That much is a given."
"Haha!"
Silence follows while Veritas peruses the catalogues for samples that suit Aventurine's complexion. Something soft—something luxurious, regardless of how simple or subtle it may look, would suit the man best. Nothing too outlandish, and certainly nothing furred. Perhaps black and white floral, in contrast to the floral white sample he'd chosen for himself…
"I wouldn't mind if you choose something for me that matches what you've chosen for yourself, by the way."
Veritas looks up at him, blinking. It couldn't be that Aventurine could read his thoughts through his face, could he? Or…
He looks over at the duck on his shoulder through the corner of his eyes, and squints. Did it have a sensor as well, beyond having a camera?
"Oh come now, doc," Aventurine teases again, smiling when Veritas returns his gaze to him. "Did you think I put a synesthesia beacon in the duck?"
"I would not put it past you."
"I'm not that bad!"
"Yet you put a camera in it."
"You knew, yet accepted it," Aventurine drawls, smirk widening with every millimeter that his eyes squint into a glare. "What does that say about you?"
"It says I have nothing to hide," he bites out. "And you? What does it say about you that you've put a recording function on an innocent rubber duck?"
"It tells me that I have an eye for beautiful things, and I like to keep watch over them."
Veritas closes his eyes, jaw taut as he grits his teeth. Irritating and utterly shameless, this man. He can feel the heat on his cheeks regardless of how foolish this conversation is, which irks him even further.
He waits until the tailoring consultant has left them, presumably to allow them the privacy to peruse the catalogues, to speak.
"It speaks of insecurity, in fact," he says bluntly, not minding the slight twitch of a frown it gets him. "That you would resort to espionage than direct communication. You knew that I would notice, you know I am no fool to fall for such tricks, yet you would pull such a scheme on me regardless. Your flirtations aside, it tells me that you do not trust me."
"…hah, you are as blunt as ever, doctor. You're not leaving me much room to argue either."
"That is the point, I believe. I do not want you to argue—I desire your honesty instead."
"What more can I say?" Aventurine smiles wryly as he strokes the patterned prints from the catalogue. His head is bowed low, but not low enough that Veritas can't see his tired expression. "You are…more than I could ever hope to claim for myself. My power and wealth can't buy you, and my personality and looks are certainly not enough to charm you. What more can I hold on to, but these petty tricks?"
"You could ask. You are a gambler, yet you cannot gamble on such a non-risk?"
"Despite my teasing, I do actually value your company, doctor. I know better than to turn you away completely by going too far. Even the duck could be thrown away, couldn't it?"
"Yet I have not."
"Yet you have not, yes," Aventurine says, looking over to him with a hopeful little smile. "So, may this gambler hope for a bit of a chance?"
"Hope?" he scoffs. "What happened to your unending well of fortune?"
"It's not quite as full when it comes to my loved ones, Ratio."
Veritas grows quiet at the reminder. Indeed, for all that Aventurine has been lucky as an individual in all his schemes, his gambles, his goals—the same could not be said for his family, and other loved ones. He needn't be close enough to the man himself to know; the near-extinction of the Avgin had been in the news, after all.
He closes his eyes, and sighs.
"Then, you may consider yourself fortunate this one time, Aventurine."
He stands up before Aventurine can say anything else, leaving the room and heading to where the consultant is waiting with their selection of larger samples. He does not say anything even when Aventurine follows him, and Aventurine does not say anything in return as they go over their chosen samples, and possible styles.
When Aventurine, in a childish attempt at catching his attention, traces a ticklish trail up his wrist using his finger, he pinches him on the back of the palm.
"Ow! "
"Behave," Veritas scolds. "You are no child, despite your stunted height."
"Those are two blows in one go, doc, ouch…"
Aventurine quickly shuts up when he grabs him by the hand, twining their fingers together in a near-inescapable clutch.
Hm. Perhaps he should keep this in mind for the next time the gambler cannot cease his babbling, though he's sure the effect would not last long if done too often.
He ignores the wide-eyed gawping resulting from his actions.
"Then, we shall return for the next consultation after four weeks," he tells the tailoring consultant, who (quite professionally) pays no mind to their less than professional behavior. "My companion will be paying for it with his card."
"Hah, right," Aventurine near-wheezes, fumbling to get his card from his pocket as he keeps one hand squeezing around Veritas' own. Veritas pointedly doesn't mention how it would be far easier if he made use of two hands to open his wallet; he is an adult, he can make his own (foolish) decisions.
"Here you go! Thank you very much for the professional service," Aventurine says.
"It's my honor to serve," the man says, smile placid on his face as he accepts Aventurine's card to tap it against their terminal. "We shall see you in four weeks at the same time for the baste fitting, Mr. Aventurine, Dr. Ratio."
Veritas makes no secret of the way he observes Aventurine staring like a fool at their clasped hands. For a man who likes to make a show of having nearly everything in his grasp, be it wealth, power, or connections, it's…well, it's quite endearing to see him be so awed by such a small show of affection.
He shakes his head.
"Stare any harder and you may pop a blood vessel in your eyes, Aventurine."
"I doubt such an extreme thing could happen," Aventurine laughs, looking up at him with an incredulous smile.
"Yet you have me in your grasp, so who's to say what other extreme thing may happen succeeding this moment," he says, leading the way out of the shop as Aventurine stumbles after him.
"…you keep saying those things, and I might just kiss you in public, doctor. I need another reminder that this is real, after all."
He turns, ensures that Aventurine will not be bumping into him and damaging his lip, before pressing a kiss to his forehead.
He walks on before Aventurine can retaliate with a kiss of his own.
"Wh—Ratio! I meant a kiss on the lips! I want a do-over!"
"Ah, how unfortunate. You've reached your quota for kisses for the day."
"What? Hey, who told you to come up with such a cute thing—"
Needless to say, after that day, Aventurine became doubly insufferable and intolerable with his teasing.
(Yet given the success in changing a portion of Aventurine's wardrobe, and the lessened life-gambling, Veritas supposes he can accept the price of such irksome behavior.)