( His mouth can't quite form the words thank you, but there's a flash of gratefulness in his bright eyes, in the duck of his head as he slips past Ratio to finally be somewhere relatively safe. There's no IPC save for the man himself, no one from the Family looking to make a point. There's a tightness in his shoulders that relaxes; he rides out the motion by shrugging off his coat -- he'd taken a long enough glance at Ratio to know that it's only by the grace of some Aeon that he isn't knocked out cold from a particularly hard throw.
He must seem small in Ratio's spacious abode -- dwarfed by marble and large windows -- the image only helped by the weight he's lost by being dead for ages, waterlogged in the waking world and doing his best to say 'fuck you' to IX, Sunday, and the IPC in that strange beyond. Vulnerable. That's what he feels; it takes wrenching his mind out of every instinctual response not to simply slip back through the door and flee far enough away that even the great Doctor Ratio can't find him.
Not that he thinks the Doctor would spend much time looking for him.
There's little else to occupy himself with, in the silence that follows, so his eyes dart from the statues (and he'd been lectured on his vanity?) to the view to the impressive shelves of books. Anything that isn't looking at his host. )
Not a man for color in interior design, are we? I could teach you a thing or two -- or give you the names of people who could do it for you, considering your previous opinion of my sense of style.
( Even he wouldn't dare insinuate he's doing anything other than babbling at this point. But anything to push off the conversation they're bound to have until he can find himself on firmer ground, with some idea of how the chips will fall.
[ There had been a part of him that had wanted to turn him away, to shun him for the grief he had caused - the frustration, the hours of wondering, the distraction across the days of his absence. He should be more annoyed than he is, a burning anger inside of him, but the dominant emotion remains relief, a quiet joy that he knows something that he cares about - someone that he cares about - has come out of "death" somehow.
The door shuts behind Aventurine, and Ratio follows him into his home, welcoming him to the esteemed world of the Doctor himself. It feels strange, to have someone else inside there, to have another figure wandering around his realm, but he has no choice now.
He is too glad to see him.
Walking back over to his desk, he leans against it and allows his arms to cross over his body, frowning as he shakes his head. ]
You did not come here to critique my design choices. Did you come here with the intention of explaining, or do I have to force it out of you?
[ Unfortunately, Ratio is not inclined to give him that kind of leeway. ]
( Months ago he would have been all too willing to write Ratio's concern off as both impossible and illogical. Aventurine was a man who was willing to put his body on the line for a win, who was flashiness and flirtation but without any real substance underneath the façade. Sometimes he'd wondered when Ratio would see past that and find the emptiness that lay beneath, like he sees past his smiles and promises, but the time never came. Doctor Veritas Ratio never seemed to ask for something Aventurine couldn't do, wasn't capable of handling, and so--
And so he's here, now. )
Jeeze, Doc. No need to threaten the formerly dead man.
( It lacks his frivolous bite from before, and when he finally finds a seat amongst the stone, he sits with far less flair than he might have. He doesn't know who he is anymore -- Kakavasha? Aventurine? Or no one at all -- a true ghost in this world from now until the heat death of the universe. But Ratio had been honest with him in his attempts to keep Aventurine from truly exiting the universe. The very least he can do for the good doctor is be honest with him, without hiding it in wordplay and plans and gambles.
What a new and novel thing. )
It took me a while to make my way back. Months, actually. For all the effort I put in to die, you'd have thought it would have been the hardest part.
It was not a threat. That suggests a possibility that the outcome might not take place.
[ Ratio goes, and he sits, one leg crossed over the other, leaning back and letting his arms mirror the pose. What he is expecting is, of course, some form of explanation, some understanding of what had happened. He had bid Aventurine farewell, had sent him off in his little fool's game, had witnessed it all from the large frames that everyone else had been forced to watch, and then he had... Waited. And he had waited further, with no notion of any possibility of hope.
Formerly dead man. So "Death" had come, for whatever it was worth.
He refuses to look at him, a little too aching and sour for it, irritation clouding his features as he forces himself to keep himself restrained, reigned. As clever as anger might be at times, a heady companion, now is not the time for it. Aventurine might be the subject, but he is not someone who ought to feel it without some form of rationing. It would do neither of them any good, not if he wishes to have his questions answers. ]
( That Ratio is pointedly avoiding looking at him is glaringly obvious by now, and he can't begin to unravel the 'why'. Instead it leaves a heavy weight in his chest -- he'd clung to the doctor's advice like a lifeline, the answer to what is worth living for when he'd thought he was fine with dying, with accepting the end. He wanted to die, after all, finally free of the weight of surviving when no one else had, the guilt and the shame and the shackles around his hands and neck.
The Emanator of Nihility had understood what he sought. It was her sword that cut through him, after all, and left him with something to chew over. Their little helpful conversation, and whatever remained of a younger version of himself in his own mind.
And Ratio's note.
He sighs, leaning so far back in the chair that he can stare at the ceiling rather than Ratio, running a hand through his hair. )
There's not really one I can give. I mean with the Harmony trying to unravel me, the pull of Nihility, and my own mind deciding what I really needed was a conversation with multiple versions of myself, it all gets a little foggy. ( Huh. He really was having a damned time of it near the end, wasn't he? ) I do remember a certain doctor wishing me luck, in spite of denying that such a thing doesn't exist.
( His eyes flick to Ratio's for a moment, a hint of a smile toying around the corner of his lips in case the good doctor decides to actually look at him. )
And... I remember it being an answer to my question. To why we continue on, even when our fate is predetermined. ( It was a reason to live. To try and come back, no matter how long it took or how pointless it might be. Because there were things still worth experiencing. Things he hasn't done and things he wants to do. ) After that it was just a matter of getting back.
[ Looking at him has Ratio aching, so he turns his attention elsewhere so he does not break. The urge to snap and let his bitterness overflow is there, tickling at the back of his throat and preying on his mind, but he resists the urge, the calling for it. Aventurine was meant to be dead, despite his hopes, in spite of the odds, and Ratio is still adjusting to what it means that he is alive, feeling the weight of it in his heart.
He should be angry, and he is. It has been months. That does not mean he is not relieved. ]
The brain can often input the familiar where there is none, so your own mind speaking to you with your personal visage should not be a shock. It is a response to trauma.
[ That PhD in medicine coming into play before he can stop himself, and then he is tapping a finger against his lip, thoughtful. Nihility is not something easily understood, but Aventurine had a question answered. Nihility and Harmony, Sunday and the Family... It is a mystery to unravel, a question that Ratio cannot find the answer to yet, and he leans back in his chair as he considers it.
Looking over, he tilts his head a little, cautious about the way his gaze drinks him in. ]
( It's said with no small amount of open fondness. At least compared to how he normally counters Ratio's quips and barbs. He's missed the other man, truly he has -- Nihility is empty, timeless, and quiet. Veritas Ratio is his favorite person, though in fairness the list of people that can stand Aventurine is less than ten people. Half of the Stonehearts detest him, and the others simply put up with him because he gets results. Well, Topaz and Jade notwithstanding. But they're not Ratio.
As for what he learned, well. )
A few things. Firstly that the IPC will have a chance to move into Penacony when it collapses under its own weight, but they don't need me to tell them that. And, funnily enough, I've found that I'm not in any particular rush to tell them I came out the other side. ( At least for now. He's... free. Free enough, anyway, and his eyes slide to Ratio again. The other man keeps his cards close to his chest, annoyingly so.
How is he supposed to figure out the chances of success of any bet, any gamble, where the other man is concerned? He pulls a chip out of his coat, flicking it around his fingers a few times in order to... give himself something to focus on rather than the feeling in his chest, the growing tightness and, yes. Fear.
He thought he'd long gotten over any lingering anxiety, but recent events have told him he'd only been deluding himself. Ugh. )
And I learned that the first place I wanted to be after coming back was here. So here I am.
( He's only sorry it took him months to get back at all. )
Ignorance is a malady, and I intend to be the cure.
[ Finally, Ratio is able to lift his head and look over at Aventurine, as if he has found some depth of courage in himself and permitted it to guide him forward. It is still difficult, the swell of his own emotions a struggle, but he is doing what he may. He is surviving in the best way he can, and if that means shoving his affection and warmth aside in his demand for answers, well, it would not be the first time. That is the nature of a man who focuses his life on scholarly pursuits.
Some of the things he says are obvious - of course the IPC wants to take control of Penacony, of course they wish for their hand to be in more pies, as it were - but the rest... Aventurine has the right to his freedom, of course, as does any man, but it is somewhat a shock to think he would distance himself from the IPC enough to find himself in thought.
Leaning his head on his palm, Ratio frowns a little. ]
So you are.
[ Here, with Ratio. In the safety of a home where no one might find him, because Ratio does not intend to speak of his new companionship with anyone else. Safe, with someone who will care for him - not that he will admit it. There is a guest room, there is food, there are books. A haven, for a time, and his expression tightens before he blinks. ]
( That's a good question. He's not sure even he knows -- of who or what he wants to be going forward. There's not a lot out there for a slave turned Stoneheart turned.... whatever he is now. Dead man? He's sure, with the success of his mission, he'd be welcomed back into the fold without question -- Topaz likely already tried messaging him the moment she realized his phone was accepting messages again. But if he's going to go back, he wants it to be on his own terms. He thinks he has a lot to use as leverage now, more than he had as a murderer and a slave.
He sighs, shifting on his seat but still looking at the other man. )
Not sure. Thought I'd stick around here for a little while. It's not like you've got a lot of house guests normally, and-- ( Here he falters, and something about his eyes changes when he looks at Ratio. Softens around the edges. A slight desperation and wanting sliding into the corners. ) I want to be here. And not just because it's the safest place I could think of, but because you're here.
( He flicks the chip up into the air before grabbing it just before it falls past him. All in, he thinks, and this time, for once, does not hide the hand in a desperate grip. If there is one thing he is certain of, it's that whatever he feels for Ratio isn't just the warm companionship of coworkers, of friends. He wants...
He wants to know what it's like to have someone who cares about him. )
[ Ratio is a little afraid of the answer. He’s concerned about Aventurine making his way back to the rest of his fellows and getting himself into more trouble, revealing his hand and suffering because of it. The last thing he wants, he realises, is Aventurine ending up twisted up in some other game, the kind in which the doctor is not able to help with.
For all his wisdom and intelligence there is only so much he can do.
Eyes dart over the other man before he looks away, expression sharp. Shy. Embarrassed, perhaps. ]
You are welcome to stay here. I have a guest room, and it has been empty for some time. Consider it yours, for as long as you wish, though I’d request you not overstay your welcome.
[ Ratio watches the chip, eyes tracing it, before he sighs softly and looks away. ]
I have no reason to report your arrival to anyone, as it stands.
( As much as he was counting on, hoping for Ratio to let him stay and... not sell him out, it still counts as a surprise that he does so with only one request. That's easy enough, and-- he thinks he sees something in his expression that warms a part of Aventurine that he thought he'd left back on the sands of his home.
It's something that he now has a chance to figure out what he's going to do about it, instead of ignoring it in favor of... simply not. )
Trust you to not have any houseguests. I guess your... exacting nature really only lets the most stubborn of fools past your door, huh? ( Which he has proved, over and over again, to be. As for the rest, well-- ) Thank you, Ratio.
Ratio had been concerned enough that he gives the offer without too much extra consideration, because he has spent months weighing the pros and cons of such a thing, considering the different aspects of it, the need for it, the desirability... He has come to enough conclusions that it feels appropriate to give himself this, and to allow Aventurine to have it in turn, even if others might query his behaviour.
None of them have to know.
Refusing to look back over at his guest, he frowns. ]
I'll hear nothing more on it. Go and make yourself comfortable, if you must.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He must seem small in Ratio's spacious abode -- dwarfed by marble and large windows -- the image only helped by the weight he's lost by being dead for ages, waterlogged in the waking world and doing his best to say 'fuck you' to IX, Sunday, and the IPC in that strange beyond. Vulnerable. That's what he feels; it takes wrenching his mind out of every instinctual response not to simply slip back through the door and flee far enough away that even the great Doctor Ratio can't find him.
Not that he thinks the Doctor would spend much time looking for him.
There's little else to occupy himself with, in the silence that follows, so his eyes dart from the statues (and he'd been lectured on his vanity?) to the view to the impressive shelves of books. Anything that isn't looking at his host. )
Not a man for color in interior design, are we? I could teach you a thing or two -- or give you the names of people who could do it for you, considering your previous opinion of my sense of style.
( Even he wouldn't dare insinuate he's doing anything other than babbling at this point. But anything to push off the conversation they're bound to have until he can find himself on firmer ground, with some idea of how the chips will fall.
Old habits die hard, after all. )
no subject
The door shuts behind Aventurine, and Ratio follows him into his home, welcoming him to the esteemed world of the Doctor himself. It feels strange, to have someone else inside there, to have another figure wandering around his realm, but he has no choice now.
He is too glad to see him.
Walking back over to his desk, he leans against it and allows his arms to cross over his body, frowning as he shakes his head. ]
You did not come here to critique my design choices. Did you come here with the intention of explaining, or do I have to force it out of you?
[ Unfortunately, Ratio is not inclined to give him that kind of leeway. ]
no subject
And so he's here, now. )
Jeeze, Doc. No need to threaten the formerly dead man.
( It lacks his frivolous bite from before, and when he finally finds a seat amongst the stone, he sits with far less flair than he might have. He doesn't know who he is anymore -- Kakavasha? Aventurine? Or no one at all -- a true ghost in this world from now until the heat death of the universe. But Ratio had been honest with him in his attempts to keep Aventurine from truly exiting the universe. The very least he can do for the good doctor is be honest with him, without hiding it in wordplay and plans and gambles.
What a new and novel thing. )
It took me a while to make my way back. Months, actually. For all the effort I put in to die, you'd have thought it would have been the hardest part.
no subject
[ Ratio goes, and he sits, one leg crossed over the other, leaning back and letting his arms mirror the pose. What he is expecting is, of course, some form of explanation, some understanding of what had happened. He had bid Aventurine farewell, had sent him off in his little fool's game, had witnessed it all from the large frames that everyone else had been forced to watch, and then he had... Waited. And he had waited further, with no notion of any possibility of hope.
Formerly dead man. So "Death" had come, for whatever it was worth.
He refuses to look at him, a little too aching and sour for it, irritation clouding his features as he forces himself to keep himself restrained, reigned. As clever as anger might be at times, a heady companion, now is not the time for it. Aventurine might be the subject, but he is not someone who ought to feel it without some form of rationing. It would do neither of them any good, not if he wishes to have his questions answers. ]
That is not a sufficient explanation.
no subject
The Emanator of Nihility had understood what he sought. It was her sword that cut through him, after all, and left him with something to chew over. Their little helpful conversation, and whatever remained of a younger version of himself in his own mind.
And Ratio's note.
He sighs, leaning so far back in the chair that he can stare at the ceiling rather than Ratio, running a hand through his hair. )
There's not really one I can give. I mean with the Harmony trying to unravel me, the pull of Nihility, and my own mind deciding what I really needed was a conversation with multiple versions of myself, it all gets a little foggy. ( Huh. He really was having a damned time of it near the end, wasn't he? ) I do remember a certain doctor wishing me luck, in spite of denying that such a thing doesn't exist.
( His eyes flick to Ratio's for a moment, a hint of a smile toying around the corner of his lips in case the good doctor decides to actually look at him. )
And... I remember it being an answer to my question. To why we continue on, even when our fate is predetermined. ( It was a reason to live. To try and come back, no matter how long it took or how pointless it might be. Because there were things still worth experiencing. Things he hasn't done and things he wants to do. ) After that it was just a matter of getting back.
no subject
He should be angry, and he is. It has been months. That does not mean he is not relieved. ]
The brain can often input the familiar where there is none, so your own mind speaking to you with your personal visage should not be a shock. It is a response to trauma.
[ That PhD in medicine coming into play before he can stop himself, and then he is tapping a finger against his lip, thoughtful. Nihility is not something easily understood, but Aventurine had a question answered. Nihility and Harmony, Sunday and the Family... It is a mystery to unravel, a question that Ratio cannot find the answer to yet, and he leans back in his chair as he considers it.
Looking over, he tilts his head a little, cautious about the way his gaze drinks him in. ]
And now you are here. So, what did you learn?
[ Pointedly ignoring the luck comment. ]
no subject
( It's said with no small amount of open fondness. At least compared to how he normally counters Ratio's quips and barbs. He's missed the other man, truly he has -- Nihility is empty, timeless, and quiet. Veritas Ratio is his favorite person, though in fairness the list of people that can stand Aventurine is less than ten people. Half of the Stonehearts detest him, and the others simply put up with him because he gets results. Well, Topaz and Jade notwithstanding. But they're not Ratio.
As for what he learned, well. )
A few things. Firstly that the IPC will have a chance to move into Penacony when it collapses under its own weight, but they don't need me to tell them that. And, funnily enough, I've found that I'm not in any particular rush to tell them I came out the other side. ( At least for now. He's... free. Free enough, anyway, and his eyes slide to Ratio again. The other man keeps his cards close to his chest, annoyingly so.
How is he supposed to figure out the chances of success of any bet, any gamble, where the other man is concerned? He pulls a chip out of his coat, flicking it around his fingers a few times in order to... give himself something to focus on rather than the feeling in his chest, the growing tightness and, yes. Fear.
He thought he'd long gotten over any lingering anxiety, but recent events have told him he'd only been deluding himself. Ugh. )
And I learned that the first place I wanted to be after coming back was here. So here I am.
( He's only sorry it took him months to get back at all. )
no subject
[ Finally, Ratio is able to lift his head and look over at Aventurine, as if he has found some depth of courage in himself and permitted it to guide him forward. It is still difficult, the swell of his own emotions a struggle, but he is doing what he may. He is surviving in the best way he can, and if that means shoving his affection and warmth aside in his demand for answers, well, it would not be the first time. That is the nature of a man who focuses his life on scholarly pursuits.
Some of the things he says are obvious - of course the IPC wants to take control of Penacony, of course they wish for their hand to be in more pies, as it were - but the rest... Aventurine has the right to his freedom, of course, as does any man, but it is somewhat a shock to think he would distance himself from the IPC enough to find himself in thought.
Leaning his head on his palm, Ratio frowns a little. ]
So you are.
[ Here, with Ratio. In the safety of a home where no one might find him, because Ratio does not intend to speak of his new companionship with anyone else. Safe, with someone who will care for him - not that he will admit it. There is a guest room, there is food, there are books. A haven, for a time, and his expression tightens before he blinks. ]
What do you intend to do next?
no subject
He sighs, shifting on his seat but still looking at the other man. )
Not sure. Thought I'd stick around here for a little while. It's not like you've got a lot of house guests normally, and-- ( Here he falters, and something about his eyes changes when he looks at Ratio. Softens around the edges. A slight desperation and wanting sliding into the corners. ) I want to be here. And not just because it's the safest place I could think of, but because you're here.
( He flicks the chip up into the air before grabbing it just before it falls past him. All in, he thinks, and this time, for once, does not hide the hand in a desperate grip. If there is one thing he is certain of, it's that whatever he feels for Ratio isn't just the warm companionship of coworkers, of friends. He wants...
He wants to know what it's like to have someone who cares about him. )
no subject
For all his wisdom and intelligence there is only so much he can do.
Eyes dart over the other man before he looks away, expression sharp. Shy. Embarrassed, perhaps. ]
You are welcome to stay here. I have a guest room, and it has been empty for some time. Consider it yours, for as long as you wish, though I’d request you not overstay your welcome.
[ Ratio watches the chip, eyes tracing it, before he sighs softly and looks away. ]
I have no reason to report your arrival to anyone, as it stands.
no subject
It's something that he now has a chance to figure out what he's going to do about it, instead of ignoring it in favor of... simply not. )
Trust you to not have any houseguests. I guess your... exacting nature really only lets the most stubborn of fools past your door, huh? ( Which he has proved, over and over again, to be. As for the rest, well-- ) Thank you, Ratio.
( It's a debt he can't even begin to pay back. )
no subject
Ratio had been concerned enough that he gives the offer without too much extra consideration, because he has spent months weighing the pros and cons of such a thing, considering the different aspects of it, the need for it, the desirability... He has come to enough conclusions that it feels appropriate to give himself this, and to allow Aventurine to have it in turn, even if others might query his behaviour.
None of them have to know.
Refusing to look back over at his guest, he frowns. ]
I'll hear nothing more on it. Go and make yourself comfortable, if you must.