Chapter Text
Aventurine was occasionally asked about his commodity code, by people who knew enough to wonder but lacked the sense to keep quiet. He was rich even by Pier Point standards; surely removing it would be trivial?
With most, he'd dodge the question, misdirect, or laugh it off. Those closer to him got half-truths: It enhanced his mystique, or created useful preconceptions.
In reality, it was like the jewelry that adorned his wrists — tangible reminders of the past he'd clawed his way up from and never truly left, worn with a touch of spite toward those who held his leash now.