Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Director Aventurine disappears from Pier Point for an extended period of time, no one bats an eye. Even when he's away on assignment, he somehow always manages to find time to respond to messages and remain in contact. Whether he's in the middle of an acquisition, an extended negotiation, or even (yet another) complete takeover of a promising asset for the IPC, Aventurine will reliably answer any and all messages within 24 system hours. Which is why it is such a serious concern when no one has been able to reach him for 3 whole system days.

“Eh? You want to know if Aventurine is sick? He's your supervisor, isn't he? You would know more about that kind of thing than I would…” Topaz raises an eyebrow in confusion at the sudden question. Despite her normal, friendly demeanor she's unable to conceal the incredulity in her voice and expression. It isn't every day she gets approached by a subordinate for such a mundane - if strange - question, let alone by one of Aventurine's own.

“Yes, but you see…” The grunt begins, fidgeting slightly under Topaz's gaze. Their posture lacks confidence at best, looks absolutely unprofessional at worst, and were Topaz one of the more strict Stonehearts like Sapphire, she would tell the grunt to stand up straight and speak up. But ever considered to be one of the more “nice” ones, she keeps the criticism to herself and merely sighs. The grunt is clearly a new employee. No doubt they were made to approach Topaz by one of their seniors and forced to go way out of their comfort zone.

The grunt continues, their voice wavering slightly but clearly filled with concern for the man currently being discussed, “Director Aventurine hasn't been responding to any of our messages. It's been several days, and no one's heard a thing from him! None of the other senior managers are aware of any assignments recently delegated to him, so…” 

At that, Topaz's other eyebrow raises. “So you assumed that maybe he was out taking care of something only Stonehearts would know about,” she finishes for them. The grunt nods in confirmation, body straightening up in anticipation of further elaboration from Topaz. When Topaz's only response is to reach up and pinch the bridge of her nose in vexation, the grunt visibly deflates again..

“Y-yes… That's right…I apologize if I've overstepped… one of the P35s said I-”

Topaz sighs again at the revelation that her suspicions had been right. Hearing about employees abusing what little authority and power was afforded to them never failed to upset and frustrate her, and Topaz made a mental note to herself to remind her own team that such things weren't tolerated in her unit.

“Listen,” she begins to explain, “Even if I did know anything I wouldn't be allowed to talk about it anyway. I understand your concern about Director Aventurine, but I'm sure he's fine and there's nothing to be concerned about. He's a Stoneheart; if anything did happen to him, Diamond would be the first to know.”

“Yes, but…” the grunt begins, only to visibly deflate further after a split-second pause. They shake their head and half-heartedly straighten themselves. “No, I understand… Thank you for your time, Director Topaz. I appreciate you hearing me out at least.”

“No problem. If I do hear anything about Aventurine and what he's up to that I can share, I'll be sure to let your unit know.”

The grunt bows their head in appreciation before they exit the office and leave Topaz alone with only Numby and her own thoughts as company. She sits back in her chair and leans back in thought. She couldn't help but be a little concerned about the information the grunt had brought forth to her. Certainly nothing could have happened to Aventurine, could it? Sure, the man bounced back after the IPC had successfully retaken Penacony, but it wasn't without a considerable amount of time and effort on Aventurine's part. Recovery took the course of several months; surely the healing process wasn't undone, was it?

A clatter at the door briefly signals the arrival of yet another visitor, and Topaz sighs, readying herself for yet another interruption to her workday. She expects her second unexpected visitor to knock per common courtesy, yet is entirely unsurprised when the door flings open before she can even blink and her second guest announces their own arrival unprompted. They step into her office, as glimmerous and ostentatious as ever, and Topaz tries not to let her annoyance show on her face.

Speak of the devil and he appears, or so the saying goes. And although he may not be an actual devil, Topaz knows plenty of people who would consider her guest, Aventurine of the Stratagems, to be one in human form.

“Knock knock! Hope I'm not intruding! I just got back and wanted to drop off some souvenirs for my favorite debt collector,” he greets, holding up an almost comically large gift bag, pale blue and emblazoned with a some sort of logo that Topaz doesn't quite recognize. “You didn't miss me too much while I was gone, did you?”

“Aventurine! One of your subordinates was just in here, asking me where you've been; they said you'd been gone for almost a week with no contact!” Topaz huffs. “Care to explain yourself?”

“Aw, so you did miss me, then!” Aventurine replies, teasing. He pauses for a moment and tilts his head as if in thought. “Has it really been that long…? I guess time really does fly on Fhloston like they say.”

Aventurine chuckles at that, shrugging in nonchalance as if the mention of being missing in action for almost a week without so much as a word to any of your subordinates or coworkers was nothing that was particularly concerning or out of the ordinary. He swings his leg back, gently shutting the door behind him before sweeping it forward and letting the momentum lead his steps as he leisurely saunters his way across the room towards Topaz at her desk. Letting the corded handle slips from his fingers, Aventurine drops the bag onto the dark wooden surface of the desk, carefully avoiding Topaz's pile of paperwork and the various decorations that keep her company while she works. It plops down with a solid thud, and Aventurine slides it towards Topaz with a hum.

“Eh? Were you on Fhloston this whole time? What were you even doing there?” Topaz asks. Her head tilts in curiosity as she accepts the surprisingly heavy bag from him and places it directly in front of herself. She tries to recall what she knew about Flohston to better prepare herself for whatever half-truthed answer she knows Aventurine will try to feed her, but her memory turns up very little beyond common knowledge. All she could remember about Flohston was its reputation as a getaway resort planet, one not unlike Penacony in regards to its expensive and high-class luxury status. However, rather than being focused on providing its guests with a high-energy, excitement-filled high-roller nightlife, Flohston was known for being a planet of low-stress, rest, and relaxation; a luxury spa for the richest and wealthiest across all the star systems.

“Oh, you know, just a little of this and a little of that: personal investments, strategic partnerships, relationship agreements…” Aventurine answers in his usual, playful manner. His smile grows a little wider as he adds, “Rather pressing personal matters that needed to be taken care of.”

“‘In all the years I've known you, all you ever do is work and gamble. What ‘personal matters’ could you possibly have?” The ‘on a resort planet like Fhloston’ remains unsaid.

“Oh? Are you that interested? Play a game with me, and I'll tell you if you win,” Aventurine replies. He pulls a coin from seemingly out of nowhere, flipping it once into the air before catching it as it falls, and holds it up like an offer. The glinting of light off of precious metal as it rises and descends attracts the attention of Numby, who hops up onto Topaz's desk in curiosity, sniffing curiously at the coin. Briefly, Aventurine wiggles the coin in front of the trotter - not unlike how owners offer things to their pets to scent - before turning his attention back to Topaz.

His ever-present smirk does its usual job of irritating Topaz enough as-is, and the way he leans forward to peer at her over the brim of his sunglasses fans the desire to wipe the smile off his face. But Topaz manages to ignore it in favor of simply crossing her arms over her chest instead. 

There's something different about Aventurine today; Topaz can't quite put her finger about it, but something is… off. There's something about the way Aventurine responds to her questions that feels different than usual, something just slightly to the left of evasive but not quite there that agitates the back of her mind. Something.

Unlike the usual, cold and calculating stare that Aventurine usually gives when he “playfully” issues challenges, Topaz notes that this one lacks the usual chill. The unnerving aura surrounding him that always leaves one on edge seems less present somehow, less oppressive. But although the usual intensity feels slightly muted, Topaz still isn't able to feel completely at ease under Aventurine's gaze. 

Not that she thinks there will ever be a point where she could ever feel completely at ease around him, of course. 

As usual, Aventurine is hiding something. And as usual, Topaz knows well enough to understand that it's likely something that she should have no desire, attention, or time to know.

“No thanks!” she responds, “I’m not that interested in your personal life. The less I know, the better.”

“What a shame,” he replies, and with a flick of the wrist, the coin suddenly vanishes. 

Numby makes a squeal of surprise, panicked at the precious treasure’s disappearance, and frantically inspects the empty hands now held out in front of him. Aventurine chuckles in amusement as the trotter paces this way and that, sniffing at his hands and approaching from all different angles. Topaz, too, finds herself briefly distracted. A small smile makes it to her face as she watches Numby slowly come to the realization that Aventurine's hands are truly empty and devoid of any treasure but the multiple rings and flashy wristwatch on his right hand and the lone ring and gaudy bracelet on his left.

Those same hands reach to pat the trotter on the head in consolation as it visibly deflates in sadness before they pull away. The left is stuffed into Aventurine's pocket while the other one rests on his just, right where his heart would be.

“And here I thought we’d have a chance to strengthen our friendship and you'd get to learn a little more about me…” Although Aventurine heaves a dramatic sigh of disappointment and hurt is visible on his face, his tone of voice makes it very apparent as to how unaffected he is. Topaz rolls her eyes, and almost immediately that annoying smile is back on his face.

“Well, I'll be seeing you around then, Manager Topaz,” Aventurine bids his farewell, lifting an arm up to lazily wave his hand as he turns and leaves. The gesture is as playful and flippant as usual, and Topaz can only roll her eyes as the ostentatious jewelry on his fingers and wrist glimmer in the light.

“That's Director Topaz!” she shouts back, though she somehow can't find herself to feel as irritated as she normally would.

The only response she hears is Aventurine's chuckling laughs, which bubble and echo in the hall before they are cut off by the closing door. His laughs, too, seem to sound a little different than before - a little more laid back, a little less sarcastic somehow. 

It does nothing to ease the concern that still bothers Topaz. However, she notices how much more rested and at ease he looks, how the unnerving tension that seems to lurk under the floorboards of Aventurine's words and actions has eased up so significantly, and importantly, how much… happier he seems. Whatever burden weighing on him since Penacony seemed to have lifted from his shoulders quite a bit, and as tenuous as her friendship- no, acquaintance with Aventurine is, Topaz feels a little relieved and glad for him.

If all it took was a few days on Fhloston for Aventurine to bounce back and improve his mental state, well, she hopes for his sake that he visits the resort planet a little more often. And if it also means he brings back more gifts, well, she certainly wouldn't complain about that, either.

Speaking of…

Her attention shifts to the large gift bag now sitting atop her desk, and she drags it closer towards her. Numby sniffs at it, tail wiggling in excitement and curiosity. 

Despite not having a face, Numby looks just as confused as Topaz does when numerous flower petals flutter off the tops of the boxes she pulls out. By the time the bag is emptied, several boxes lay atop her desk, and beside them, petals from all sorts of different flowers she had swept into one fist-sized pile. 

The confusion only gets worse when Topaz opens the smallest box to reveal a single slice of a pure white cake adorned with small, delicate flowers and swirls made of white frosting. What she assumes to be edible pearls in green, purple, and gold - colors that somehow blended well together in their paleness and pastel softness - are artfully scattered amidst the petals and frosting as well. Besides “delicious", the only word Topaz could use to describe the cake slice is “elegant”, and somehow it evoked a sense of importance and formality that Topaz couldn't quite put her finger on…

After a few moments of thought and talking it through with Numby - more like at Numby, really - she comes to a realization.

A wedding cake!

The slice resembled the kinds of elegant, sumptuous cakes Topaz had only ever seen at formal, exclusive, overly elaborate IPC-sponsored galas or at private weddings.

But given Aventurine’s visit to Fhloston wasn’t work-related… then whose wedding did Aventurine attend?

Having extensive knowledge of Dr. Veritas Ratio's achievements, accomplishments, and accolades, Orla knows first-hand just how genius the man is, and how brilliant he can be. As Dr. Veritas Ratio's lead assistant and having worked with the man for two years (soon to be three once she graduates and earns her own doctorate) she also knows first-hand that beyond his pride and poor social skills, Dr. Ratio has two fatal weaknesses: 1) lying, and 2) Director Aventurine of the Stonehearts from the IPC's Strategic Investment Department.

For the former, it's not that Dr. Ratio can't lie; it's just that he refuses to and also because he's terrible at it. Dr. Ratio’s penchant and love for the arts extends to acting and drama well enough, as he has assisted various clubs with stage performances on quite a few occasions. Give him a role and he will play the part perfectly, but make him improvise and make things up on the spot, well, you’re better off getting an owl to play the saxophone. Given his nickname of “Dr. Truth” in some circles, Dr. Ratio’s ineptitude with lying does not come as a surprise at all.

When it comes to Aventurine of the Stratagems, however, Orla never would have guessed Dr. Ratio would be so weak to such a man had she not seen it first-hand. The remarkable change of attitude and behavior that the IPC Director is able to draw from the usually calm and collected Dr. Ratio is absolutely astounding. And all the more, although Aventurine has no history in academics, he can still keep up with the brilliant doctor with cleverness, wit, and sheer charisma.

To this day, Orla can still remember the first time she ever witnessed a clash between Aventurine and Dr. Ratio, and how flustered and uncharacteristically - for lack of a better word - ‘cute’ Dr. Ratio became at the end. 

A year or so ago, Orla found herself entering Dr. Ratio’s office one afternoon and catching the tail end of what must have been a very intense discussion. Dr. Ratio never took off his signature bust for frivolous matters, yet there he sat at his desk with an irritated scowl on his face across from a blond man, clad in brown and turquoise, looking both amused and quite pleased with himself from where he sat in one of the plush guest chairs.

“Now now, Doc, is that any way to treat someone you held at gunpoint only a few system hours ago? And here I thought we had something special,” Aventurine teased. Orla had been stunned speechless at that. Dr. Ratio was most certainly not a man of violence, and to hear that he aimed such a deadly weapon at someone- The whole notion was absurd! There was no way it was possible for Dr. Ratio to hold anyone at gunpoint!

But then again, for what reason would Aventurine have to lie about such a thing? After all, before Orla had accidentally interrupted their conversation with her entrance, it was only the two of them in the room. It made no sense for Aventurine to accuse Ratio of doing something so serious when no one else was there to hear the accusations.

“I did no such-! You pulled the barrel of the pistol against your own chest and made me point that gun at you!” Ratio spluttered. “Refusing to contextualize an event inevitably leads to misinformation and misunderstandings.”

“I didn't refuse to provide context, I just merely… left it out,” Aventurine laughed. He gave a flippant shrug of his shoulders and took another sip from the teacup he had been delicately balancing in his lap.

“Omission of the truth is no different than lying, Aventurine,” Ratio seethed.

“If a man is so foolish as to take everything presented to him at face value for absolute fact and makes no effort to discover the truth on his own, then he can only blame himself for his own ignorance and idiocy,” Aventurine replied, mimicking Ratio's cadence before he slipped back to his normal manner of speaking as he continued. “Is that not so, my dear professor, or did I quote you incorrectly? If I did, I do so apologize. I've just read so much about you that it's hard to keep quotes and facts straight sometimes.”

The look on Dr. Ratio's face said it all - widened eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth slightly opened in surprise, cheeks and ears flushed even deeper than before - he hadn't expected that sort of retort from Aventurine at all, and he was struggling to come up with a response. His stunned silence dragged on for several more moments before he recomposed himself and let out a huff of indignancy.

“You aren’t mistaken,” he replies, “but you are most certainly infuriating!”

“I get that a lot.”

Is it hypocritical or ironic, then, that the very statement Dr. Ratio made back then: “Omission of the truth is no different than lying,” would apply here and now? That, when asked directly about his planned absence and travel plans, Dr. Veritas Ratio himself is guilty of lying by omission by blatantly refusing to elaborate, and also through withholding important details from Orla and the rest of his teaching assistants? That Dr. Ratio, the man whose raison d'être is to disseminate knowledge to all mankind is intentionally withholding knowledge from others? 

Considering his bad habits of avoiding eye contact when flustered, and tapping his bicep with arms crossed when agitated - both of which Dr. Ratio doesn't seem to be aware that he's doing at the very moment - Orla isn't quite sure if his acts of omission and pointedly dodging her questions is something to be deeply suspicious of or concerned about. 

But then again, Dr. Ratio had always been so forthright with everyone when questioned directly about things, and for him to be so adamant about circumventing such details… It must be something of great personal importance to him for him to go to such lengths to keep it secret. Guilt begins to creep in and scratch at Orla's conscience. 

Even the ever-honest professor deserved his privacy, did he not?

Just as Orla is about to tell him to disregard her question and that an answer is no longer necessary, the office door swings open with a loud bang as it collides with the floor-mounted stopper.

“Veritas, are you here?” a very familiar voice calls out as a blur of turquoise enters the room. Before either Dr. Ratio or Orla even had a chance to respond, the voice continues. “Let's have some lunch together and talk about our trip to Floh- Oh dear! I didn't know you had company!”

Realizing that there was someone in the room besides only Ratio just a moment too late, Director Aventurine of the IPC immediately aborts the latter half of his greeting. A brief look of shock flashes across his face - eyes widening just a little bit, eyebrows lifting ever so slightly - before he immediately schools it back to the curated, relaxed and carefree smile he had before. Though the change is lightning-quick, it does not escape Orla’s notice, nor does the slight flush of Dr. Ratio's cheeks or pinkening of his ears.

Orla does her best to keep her own expression in check when her mind immediately puts two and two together. It all made sense now, why Dr. Ratio had been so adamant about keeping the details of his trip to himself. He was not traveling alone, but with his close friend and confidant, Aventurine. But why would such a thing need to be kept secret? 

“Good Afternoon, Director Aventurine,” Orla replies as she nods in greeting. “Apologies, I did not realize you had a lunch appointment with the professor today; it wasn't on his schedule.”

“He doesn't,” she hears Dr. Ratio grumble from his seat, voice slightly muffled as if he were covering his face with a hand. He lets out a long sigh, and gets up from his chair to take Aventurine's coat and hat from him, hanging it on the rack beside the door. As if guided by habit and routine, Dr. Ratio immediately begins making coffee, something Orla knows he only ever drinks with and makes for Aventurine. 

All the while, Orla's gaze darts from one corner of her eyes to the other, as she bounces between watching the doctor make the coffee and watching Aventurine watch the doctor. With a theoretical, new perspective of the nature of the relationship between Aventurine and Dr. Ratio, Orla can all but confirm her hypothesis with certainty. The occasional relaxed softness in Aventurine's gaze as he watches the professor and the uncharacteristic, brief glimpses of vulnerability that slip out from behind his ruthless, ‘gambling businessman’ mask as he talks about something or another with Dr. Ratio - Orla’s since tuned their conversation out - tell her all she needs to know about how Aventurine truly feels about the professor. And looking back on all of Dr. Ratio's actions and behavior with, around, and in regards to Aventurine; in contemplating the potential motivations behind why such a brutally honest and forthright man would be so desperate to keep a trip with a ‘strategic-partner-slash-close-confidant’ a secret from his own; and Dr. Ratio’s own brief flashes of tenderness and intimacy Orla had never noticed before clears up all remaining doubt in her mind that, indeed, her initial hypothesis is correct. 

These men had stopped being just friends-slash-confidants a long time ago, and crossed the threshold into an even deeper level of intimacy. Yet, despite all the (admittedly conjectural) evidence Orla now has at her disposal, she isn’t quite able to discern just how deep the intimacy between the two men goes. And, truth be told, she shouldn’t and doesn’t want to know.

Her eyes make contact with Aventurine’s own and his expression changes almost immediately, as if he knew that Orla knew something that she shouldn’t nor was ever intended to be made aware of and was deciding on what to do about it. Just as Aventurine begins to get up from his chair, Dr. Ratio completely rids Orla of the fight-or-flight impulse she felt under Aventurine’s gaze. 

“Orla, could I ask that you please allow Aventurine and myself some privacy for an hour or two? It seems there are some matters that the gambler simply cannot wait to discuss…”

Orla’s eyes briefly dart to Aventurine, whose enigmatic expression had not changed at all, before she shifts her gaze back to Dr. Ratio and answers, “Of course, sir. I’ll be back at 14:45 to remind you about your next meeting.”

A silence settles in the room as Orla gathers her belongings and leaves the room, and Orla is sure that the two men do not begin speaking again until they are certain Orla has rounded the corner at the end of the long corridor and is no longer around to eavesdrop. Not that she would, of course, now that she’s aware of the nature of their relationship, she dares not risk overhearing things that, for the sake of her own sanity and for the privacy of the two men, she is better off not hearing or knowing.

When she returns precisely an hour later at 14:45, she finds the room filled with silence once again, but there’s something different about it. She tells herself not to think too much about it, nor the fact that neither of the coffees Dr. Ratio had brewed look like they had ever been drank from at all. Aventurine stands up from his chair the same time Dr. Ratio gets up from his desk, and he turns to Orla with a wave of his hand and a smile on his face in greeting.

“I know you just got back, but you wouldn’t mind escorting me out, would you? I get lost so easily; these hallways all look the same to me!” A statement Orla knows to be a bold-faced lie, even if she hadn’t caught him climbing through the window into Dr. Ratio’s office all those months ago, but she goes along with it nevertheless, knowing Aventurine is using it as an excuse to intimidate or threaten Orla for what she has figured out.

Being a member of the IPC, Aventurine does neither of the two things, and Orla mentally slaps herself on the forehead for not realizing such an obvious third option. 

“Let's not beat around the bush; time is money and knowledge is power and all that jazz… I don't particularly care if you know about us, but my darling does,” Aventurine speaks up just as the elevator doors close. “So, tell me, teaching assistant, how much will it cost for your discretion and to forget my slip-up ever happened? 10,000 credits? 20,000?” He remains staring straight ahead, not even bothering to turn his head towards Orla as he probes her with an offer. Not that he needs to turn his head to look her in the eye, they are able to make eye contact perfectly fine using their reflections in the elevator doors.

Also without turning her head, Orla looks directly at Aventurine’s reflection who looks back at her. She smirks as she replies, “50,000 for my silence. And an additional 100,000 for the added service of adjusting Dr. Ratio’s schedule for tomorrow so that he’s free for lunch and the rest of the day. Deal?”

“You would sell out your dear professor for such a paltry amount of credits? How shrewd!” Aventurine barks out a laugh, clearly amused. “Sold for both! You’d fit in well with the IPC. Ever considered joining after you graduate?”

Orla doesn't bother to respond to that, and instead holds out one hand for Aventurine to place her credits into while the other taps away at her phone, going right to work on rescheduling all of Dr. Ratio's appointments for the rest of the day.