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Summary
Aventurine had no idea why Commodore Ratio would be at the Tavern, dressed down to pass off as a lowly pirate, playing cards with random criminals. He must be after some sort of information, but even then, why not turn to his 'dear friend'?
When he leant his weight over Ratio’s back, arms folded over his shoulders, the rest of the players at the table fell utterly silent. To Ratio’s credit, he didn’t even flinch. He lowered his cards and partially turned around on his stool to stare back at Aventurine, unimpressed. “Do you intend to stay perched on my shoulders like an obedient parrot, or are you going to share with us what is it that you want, Captain?”
“You.”
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or, just a friendly rendezvous.