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Ratio sighs as he stands up to leave along with the Herta puppet, Stephen, and Screwllum.
“Remember to hurry up, everyone,” Herta is saying. “We’re never discovering anything interesting at the rate we’re working at. I better see substantial progress in everyone’s projects by the time we meet again next month. Bye.”
She quickly shuffles out of the room, leaving only Ratio and Screwllum because Stephen had somehow escaped the conference room even faster than Herta.
“Observation: Herta feels rushed,” the Intellitron says, seeming to be focused on the open doors that Herta left behind. “I do not know why she feels so hurried. I apologize if she seemed insensitive or unreasonable today. I intend to speak with her later to determine what is on her mind.”
“Only a fool would be offended by her attitude,” Ratio haughtily declares. “She desires progress above all else. She does not intend to offend others simply because she doesn’t care enough.”
“I should have expected such an answer from you, Mister Ratio,” Screwllum responds. He pauses and goes still. “Observation: There is unusual activity outside. Hypothesis: This activity is linked to the presence of Mister Aventurine of Stratagems.”
“Aventurine?” Ratio repeats, knitting his eyebrows. He can’t help but wonder if that gambler is in trouble, but that’s an incredibly slim possibility. Knowing him, he’s the one causing trouble to others, most likely fools who have fallen to his supposed “charm.”
“Mister Ratio, I recall you brought Aventurine of Stratagems with you on this trip,” Screwllum continues, facing Ratio. His robotic tone doesn’t hold any accusation, but in all fairness, Ratio can’t recall a time when Screwllum’s voice ever had emotion. “Perhaps you should go investigate the anomaly.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Ratio responds flatly knowing full well that whatever foolish researcher Aventurine had caused trouble should probably just figure it out on their own. He supposes Aventurine could have been involved in an accident regarding some of the more dangerous substances and Curios on the space station, but Aventurine isn’t stupid; he knows better than to mess with those, even if he feigns recklessness.
He sighs, summoning his plaster bust, and leaves the conference room.
_________________
As it turned out, the “anomaly” mentioned by Screwllum was three gray catcakes swarming around Aventurine, pawing at his ankles and meowing out a cacophony of irritatingly high-pitched noises.
“Gambler,” Ratio demands as he walks into the room. “What is happening? What act of idiocy have you committed?”
“Not even a greeting, doc?” Aventurine sighs over the incessant meowing. Ratio is incredibly grateful that his plaster bust can block out at least some of the noise, with “noise” including both the meows and the gambler’s annoying voice.
“I didn’t know you were a stickler for meaningless pleasantries,” Ratio replies. “Now, don’t think yourself so clever that you can avoid my question. What did you do?”
“Fine, fine. You win this one. I was taking a stroll around the space station, and these three critters leapt out from behind those supply crates and have unfortunately trapped me here. It’s quite the pity, really. I can’t even lift my foot.”
“You’re being absolutely ridiculous,” Ratio groans. “Being trapped by your own lack of critical thinking will not earn you my sympathy. You’ll have to try harder than that, gambler.”
At that moment, one of the catcakes notices Ratio. It makes some sort of noise that Ratio assumes is the catcake’s form of an excited gasp, and it bounces over to him, deciding to meow at his foot instead.
Ratio scowls underneath his bust and experimentally hovers his hand near the catcake’s nose. It stops its meowing to sniff around his hand and lifts up a paw in a flimsy attempt to bat at it.
“Oh, they’re safe to play with?” Ratio hears Aventurine ask. There’s genuine surprise in his voice. It’s not often he hears that from the gambler.
“These are the so-called ‘failed’ creations of Ruan Mei, Member #81 of the Genius Society,” Ratio explains. At the mention of Ruan Mei, the other two catcakes immediately still and turn to look at Ratio.
He continues and pays little mind to them. He’s mostly just grateful for the sudden peace and quiet. “As you know, her studies focus on the creation of biological life, and these critters, informally known as ‘catcakes,’ are believed to be byproducts of her experiments during her time on the Herta Space Station. They’re not toxic and are completely safe to interact with; furthermore, they exhibit behavior similar to that of domestic housecats, but due to their lack of fur, it is also safe for individuals allergic to cats to interact with them,” Ratio rambles as he awkwardly pets the catcake. Now that he takes a closer look at it, it appears to be modeled after a… trashcan? How absurd. He heard that after Ruan Mei abandoned them, some space station researchers as well as that one Trailblazer had been taking care of the creations, and they’d apparently also fooled around with the Lifeform Oven and baked a number of strange critters. These three must have come from that.
“How fascinating,” Aventurine responds, tentatively petting one of the catcakes next to him. Once he apparently decides it’s safe, he sits down and starts playing with both of them. “You know,” Aventurine says, “I really would’ve just scooched these critters out of the way if I knew they weren’t composed of toxic substances and wouldn’t be aggressive. I just thought it would be terribly embarrassing if Aventurine of Stratagems died on the Herta Space Station in an unfortunate encounter with a few cake-looking kittens. It’d be a bad look for the IPC too if they lost a top executive just like that.”
“I can’t tell if you're joking,” Ratio admits. “Though in hindsight, it was wise to avoid action in this scenario.”
Aventurine lets out a muffled snicker, vibrant eyes bright with amusement.
“What?” Ratio asks, making sure to sound as irritated as humanly possible.
“Did the renowned Doctor Veritas Ratio of eight doctoral degrees just admit he was wrong?” Aventurine shakes his head, still smiling. “And here I thought I’d never live to see such a day.”
“You’re putting words in my mouth, gambler,” Ratio retorts. “And besides, making mistakes is human nature. No one could possibly hope to live a life free of errors. What separates the brilliant from the fool is one’s ability to accept those errors and learn from them.”
He sighs. “In any case, these critters appear to be lonely and are in need of a human companion, hence why they were so excited upon seeing you. It would be inhumane to simply leave them here. We ought to contact Miss Asta, as these critters are technically under her care and management.”
“Alright, doc. I assume the most efficient way to carry these critters is to stack them?” Aventurine tilts his head as he waits for Ratio’s response.
“Precisely,” Ratio responds. “I can carry them, if you wish.”
“Aww, how thoughtful of you.”
“I’m reconsidering my offer.”
_________________
“They seem to favor you two in particular,” Asta notes. She experimentally reaches her hand out to one of the catcakes Ratio carried over, but it doesn’t respond at all.
“Kinda interesting,” Arlan remarks from beside her.
“Well, it’s not like the space station has a shortage of these critters,” Asta sighs, probably thinking about the apparent dozens of accidents caused by the reckless critters. “We’re more like a massive, high-tech animal shelter at this point… But in any case, I’d say just keep them.”
Aventurine blinks. “Sorry, what?”
Asta’s expression shifts into something more sheepish. “Ah– sorry, I know you both must be super busy. You probably don’t have time for pets, let alone three of them. That’s my oversight, sorry. Just… take it as a joke?” She shrugs. “With enough time, we’ll probably find another person these critters like. It’s fine. We don’t have to bother you two with these…”
“Hold on, Miss Asta,” Aventurine quickly interrupts, already wearing his annoying expression that he uses to “charm” people and also to annoy Ratio into oblivion. “I never said I wouldn’t be able to take them in. Honestly, I quite like pets and all. The reason I don’t have one is that I always thought the nice ones were so high-maintenance. See, a coworker of mine has dozens of pets, and I’ve seen their breakfast routines.”
“Dozens?”
“It’s quite the spectacle to witness, but I always figured it’d be too much of a hassle to handle. However, from what you and Ratio here have told me, it seems these creations of Miss Ruan Mei are relatively low maintenance, correct?”
“They… could be low maintenance,” Asta weakly agrees. “Well, what I mean is, a lot of them just freely roam the space station, so yeah, most of them don’t need direct human care like regular feeding and brushing that you would need to do for a dog. Also, they don’t shed!”
“But let me guess,” Ratio says. “Due to the lack of attention their creator has provided them, they crave human connection with much more intensity than your average pet.”
“That’s correct, Mister Ratio,” Arlan agrees. “Do with that info what you will. Ultimately, it’s up to you whether you want to keep them or not. We won’t pressure you into anything.”
Before Ratio can say something, Aventurine speaks up. “Doc, don’t you always say my apartment is far too big and showy when I’m the only person living there? Maybe you’re right. Perhaps these critters will help make it feel less empty, hm?”
Ratio sighs. “Do as you wish, gambler. You can keep them, but I will likely also visit them, since they seem to have taken a liking to me as well.”
“Oof, quite the absent father, aren’t you? Tsk, leaving me to do all the hardwork.”
“I never agreed to be a father,” Ratio grumbles. “Besides, this was your idea.”
“Oh!” Asta exclaims, interrupting their exchange. “Uh, you two seem to have reached an agreement, right? Arlan and I aren’t needed anymore? Because something happened in one of the labs. Arlan and I have to go now. Bye!”
Asta fast-walks away from the two of them, Arlan following close behind.
“Wow, our bickering must’ve pissed them off,” Aventurine cheerfully remarks.
“Are you sure it wasn’t just you?”
“Since when were you this sharp-tongued?” Aventurine sighs, looking at the three, now-sleepy catcakes on the floor. “In any case, I don’t actually have any objections to letting the catcakes stay at my house. I think I can figure out how to care for them without much issue.”
Ratio nods. Even though the gambler would probably spend long nights out gambling and whatever else the gambler does, it’s not as if Ratio’s work schedule and hobbies would allow for much more time with the critters than Aventurine’s would. “Then, I’ll leave it to you?”
“That’s right, doc~”
_________________
A week after their initial encounter with the catcakes, Ratio takes a shuttle to Pier Point to visit the catcakes, and also to see that the gambler hasn’t somehow gotten himself into yet another sticky situation with his endless casino visits and dangerous games. That’s just a secondary goal, though.
The moment he walks into Aventurine’s apartment, he hears a series of meows coming from somewhere inside. Before he sees even a glimpse of the flamboyant gambler, the three catcakes come bounding out to greet him. Though they bounce around him and stare at him with expectant eyes, they seem considerably less rowdy than last time.
“I see you’ve been taking care of them,” Ratio says as Aventurine leisurely walks over to greet him.
“Do I then have your seal of approval, doc?” Aventurine winks as he pats one of the catcakes on its head.
“What sort of nonsense are you blabbering about now?” Ratio grumbles. In truth though, it seems that the catcakes are doing much better, so Aventurine must’ve taken pretty good care of them, not that he’d ever tell the gambler that lest his ego inflates into something incomprehensibly huge.
“Don’t worry about it,” Aventurine hums. “Here, you’re welcome to come in and sit on the couch, doc. We can talk there instead of out here next to the door.”
Aventurine turns around and walks into his kitchen, presumably to get water. Ratio takes off his shoes, leaving them by the door, and walks across Aventurine’s exorbitantly expensive carpets to sit down on his equally lavish couch. What does the gambler even want all this expensive, useless furniture for anyways?
Ratio didn’t notice, but the three catcakes had followed him as well. They bounce their way onto the couch using the pet ramp that Ratio hadn’t seen earlier, and they settle comfortably on his lap as if he was their owner all along and not someone they’d known for a grand total of probably twenty minutes.
Aventurine returns with two glasses of water and comfortably plops down next to Ratio. “So,” he starts, “The catcakes.”
“They’re doing well,” Ratio agrees. Then, against his better judgement, he adds, “You’ve taken good care of them. Though, have you considered buying some cat toys for them to play with? It’d be good enrichment for them so that they don’t get overly bored if both you and I happen to be away.”
“Both of us?”
Ratio pauses, realizing what he said must’ve sounded strange. Aventurine is their owner, after all, and Ratio never said he’d intend to play a major role in taking care of them. “What I mean is, in the theoretical situation that you were away on a business trip, if I happened to be free, I would regularly visit the catcakes to keep them company.”
“Ah, I see,” Aventurine nods. “That’s thoughtful of you. I appreciate it,” he adds, actually sounding sincere for once, a light pink dusting his face. It’s not that the gambler is incapable of being sincere, of course. He simply chooses not to be most of the time.
“Well?” Ratio prompts. “Have you?”
“I hadn’t, actually,” Aventurine admits. “I can shop for some now, though.”
Aventurine pulls out a tablet and searches up “cat toys.” He angles his tablet so that Ratio can see and scrolls through the results.
“What do you think of this one?” Aventurine asks, pointing to a scratching ball.
“I’m not an expert on pets,” Ratio huffs. “Why are you asking me?”
“You aren’t? Then what are those eight PhDs even for?”
“Zoology isn’t included in those eight doctorates you mentioned.”
“Maybe you should consider getting a ninth PhD.”
Ratio lets out an exasperated sigh and Aventurine chuckles in response. “Alright, fine. No ninth doctorate then. Hm… hey, Bingo,” Aventurine says, poking at one of the catcakes. “What do you think of this?”
“Hold on,” Ratio interrupts, dread slowly setting in. “Aventurine… What did you name the catcakes?”
Aventurine grins. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot to tell you, doc. Meet Bingo, Bet, and Barrel!”
Silence.
“Aventurine.”
“What?” Aventurine frowns, arms dropping to his sides. “You don’t like the names I gave?”
“Did you seriously… name your catcakes after gambling terms?” Ratio sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose because he isn’t even surprised anymore. “I should’ve expected this from you…”
“Be honest, doc. If it were up to you to name them, you would’ve called them something even more ridiculous like Newton, Pythagoras, and Einstein.”
“I would not be so unimaginative as to name these critters after prominent mathematicians and scientists,” Ratio haughtily declares.
“Oh? Then what would you have named them?”
Ratio realizes he actually has no idea. When he doesn’t answer, Aventurine lets out a chuckle. “I figured. It’s okay, doc. Anyways, let’s keep looking through these cat toys.”
They spend another two hours or so bickering about everything and nothing and choosing some cat toys to purchase along the way. In the meantime, the three catcakes with horrendous names alternate between playing with each other, demanding pets from Ratio and Aventurine, and peacefully napping on the couch.
When Ratio gets up to leave, he agrees to come back the following week to check on the catcakes again. He sincerely hopes the gambler won’t somehow rope them into his unhealthy gambling habits.
_________________
“Hey, doc! You’re back!”
Ratio takes a moment to respond because he can’t believe the sight in front of his eyes. “Gambler, why are your pets wearing luxury fashion and jewelry?”
Aventurine blinks in surprise as if he wasn’t the culprit behind the headache-inducing sight in front of Ratio’s eyes. “What, you don’t like them?”
“This is excessive,” Ratio grumbles, walking past Aventurine and the ridiculously dressed catcakes to sit down on his equally excessive couch underneath an equally excessive chandelier.
“Hey, I’m just treating them to a quality life,” Aventurine counters, walking over to sit down next to Ratio. “Also, I got the cat toys we ordered. They love ‘em.”
“That’s good to hear,” Ratio sighs.
“Oh, also, you wanna see the rest of the catcakes’ wardrobe?”
“They–?” Ratio doesn’t even bother finishing his sentence and just lets out a sigh of defeat. “Yes, dear gambler.”
Aventurine smiles and pulls out his phone, handing it over to Ratio. He’s greeted with a picture of the catcakes in different but equally gaudy clothes. After scrolling through a few more photos, all of them equally ridiculous, Ratio is about to hand Aventurine’s phone back to him when he sees the last photo.
It’s so absurd that Ratio blinks a few times to make sure he’s not the one hallucinating. It’s the three catcakes dressed up as Ratio, Aventurine, and Topaz. For some reason, every single detail of their outfits are accurate to their human counterparts. They’re even wearing wigs and makeup.
“Gambler, what is this?” Ratio asks, showing Aventurine the photo knowing full well he’ll get a preposterous and useless response.
To his surprise though, Aventurine’s face flushes a slight pink. “Oh, that?” he asks, sounding rather caught off guard. He quickly regains his composure though. “That was just a little side-project, you know? Some bonding time with the catcakes? They had fun, and I gotta admit, I did too.”
“Mhm,” Ratio responds because he really has to wonder where Aventurine even got the catcake clothes and wigs from. This gambler really perplexes him at times. “How much time did this even take you?”
Aventurine pauses to think. “I don’t remember. Probably quite a bit. Definitely a lot of money, too.”
“Whatever happened to ‘low maintenance’?” Ratio asks.
“Hey, it was just this one time,” Aventurine points out. “Not a long-term commitment or anything.”
Ratio just sighs at that. “In any case, it seems your… impression was quite…”
“Accurate?” Aventurine finishes for him. “I gotta agree, doc. You really are as cute as a catcake~”
“W- what?” Ratio stutters, feeling heat creep across his face. How do Aventurine’s silly little tricks work on Ratio anyways? “I– Stop with this ridiculousness, gambler.”
“Hah!” Aventurine laughs. “I wasn’t kidding, though. Anyways, just look at this. You don’t think they’re cute dressed up like this? It’s me and my two closest… hm…” He makes a show of pausing to think. “Friends,” he finally finishes with a wink.
“Friends,” Ratio repeats, deadpan.
“That’s right! Friends~”
Aventurine falls onto Ratio’s lap and grins at him from there. Despite how annoying the gambler is, he really does have a pretty face, and his blond hair beautifully catches the afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows. For how radiant his Cornerstone may be, the Aventurine in Ratio’s lap will always be more radiant in his heart.
Ratio doesn’t tell Aventurine that, though.
Instead, he simply says, “Gambler, you’re absolutely ridiculous.”