Would you say it's worse than being an idiot, Doc?
( considering how often ratio lambasts everyone from not being able to match his intelligence. which isn't really fair -- not everyone can earn eight doctorates. )
that's unexpected. aventurine blinks away his surprise, propping himself up on his elbow as he leans into the other man's personal space for a brief second. )
You don't look ill. Unless you've decided to use one of those doctorates of yours to self-diagnose, in which case-- ( he shrugs. ) The doctor knows best.
( he should probably leave it alone. he does, in fact, leave it alone.
for about five seconds -- the time it takes to school his face better so the concern that's crawling up his gut doesn't show. )
There's very little these days that require that long of a recovery period.
( and he is currently attempting to go through all of them, one after another, and match up any symptoms to the man sitting in front of him. ugh, this would be easier if he could put in a request for ratio's medical records with jade and actually get them. )
I'm quite aware. It is, unfortunately, an unavoidable complication.
[ It isn't, of course. He could tell the man beside him how he feels, but he chooses not to. He's weighed his options, put the thought in, and now... He knows what the only good outcome is.
Liberation from doubt. ]
If there is anything you need me to do, now is the time to say it.
( yeah, yeah. aventurine waves the chastising away as if he's hardly bothered by the idea of wasting ratio's time. that he waited three hours is probably more than anyone else he knows would.
that's the last truth he's going to allow hanging around tonight, however, and he slides into something easier for what he's going to ask next. because he's exhausted the list, and is willing to hedge his bets.
luck is always on his side. )
So. ( he says, taking a larger sip from his drink than usual before allowing nonchalance to color his voice. ) Who is it?
( aventurine does not look at ratio. he can't. his own feelings aren't the issue here, when it's ratio who's going to be undergoing surgery to remove the flowers from his lungs. which is so very like him, aventurine concludes, avoiding the obvious answer in favor of one that can have a assured outcome.
he just hopes the other poor sod never finds out. )
He should have counted on this. For all that Aventurine might play the fool, the idle gambler with no wisdom to support his clever little insights, there’s no denying that he has the intelligence to back it up. To be a few steps ahead of everyone around him, to know what bet to make to get the outcome he most wants. It seems only natural that he would deduce the condition with scarce information.
Very little these days require such a long period of recovery. He has no outward symptoms. Therefore, a conclusion can be drawn - a gamble can be risked. Ratio sighs. ]
Irrelevant.
[ He wishes he had started drinking three hours ago.
He wishes he had left.
He wishes a lot of things that betray his confident mind. ]
( he's not sure if the unspoken conformation is better or worse. aventurine is well aquatinted with the side effects of his luck by now, of losing everything but what keeps him alive, and knowing the way the chips fall there's no point in guessing, is there? ratio won't tell him. that wouldn't mean a damn thing normally.
except aventurine wants to know how long he'll wait for him. if there is something he'll do for him that he won't do for anyone else. if the other man thinks about what aventurine might like the way he does about ratio. if he could spin the time spent with veritas ratio into longer chunks, hour by hour, until one day one of them stays the night.
aventurine is very aware that he loves doctor veritas ratio. he knows his luck. and he knows that the only way for ratio to love him back is if he'd rather cut the damn emotion out instead. )
I mean, I get it. ( the mask cracks with a hard laugh, a twist of aventurine's lips as he finally looks at ratio. ) I wouldn't want to be in love with me, either.
This is not the outcome he wanted. He shouldn’t turned and left hours ago, rather literally, should have raised himself up and found his way back to the tiny clinic with a doctor who won’t speak his name. Ratio had made a mistake, as rare an offence as that night be, and the anger and irritation he feels burns through him like an inferno.
He never should have organised this.
Finishing his drink, he shakes his head and pushing himself up and away from the stool, brushing his hand absently against the shape of his torso, imaginary dirt on the fabric of his clothes. Expression terse, antsy and angry inside himself, he pushes hair from his face and shakes his head. Remoulding himself back into the cutting figure he had been before his heart had been so painfully laid bare. ]
If that’s what you believe, then my decision has been proven to be all the more appropriate. You’ve had your one drink, so our appointment is over. Good day.
[ He has to return to that planet for one last set of exams and then the operation that evening anyway, so it’s best to make a hasty retreat. There’s no further comment - just Ratio leaving as swiftly as he had arrived, slipping into a crowd to disappear, ready to return to ice cold (both in planet and in feeling). ]
( if that's what you believe. isn't that what he's doing? he doesn't want to be in love with aventurine, he's cutting out every inch of affection in his heart and lungs until not even friendship remains. he wasn't going to tell him. the hurt and anger lingers in his expression as ratio stands, and for a moment he's too stunned to reach out, to call him back until he's too far gone into the crowd for aventurine to catch up to him. )
Fuck.
( aventurine crumples, head in hands for a long moment. when he feels like he can breathe again it's only to look up, settle the bill, and leave. except-- ratio forgot the book. he scowls at it, as if it's the book's fault for the mess his evening's become. he shouldn't have come.
he shouldn't have gotten the book because he thought ratio might like it. he shouldn't have fallen in love with ratio in the first place. what did he expect to happen, really? for the other man to let aventurine exist in his life until he got bored of him? until he saw that he really was clinging to his winning hands with fists and white knuckles and decided he wasn't worth dealing with anymore?
but if that wasn't what ratio wanted, then--
aventurine grabs the book, quickly makes his apologies to the bartender, and darts after ratio. aeons, how much time did he even have left--
not long, it turns out. he'd run into that trailblazer, who'd been most helpful purely by accident -- though he thinks that perhaps if he'd been more direct she still would have helped him in spite of her general... distaste for him. not that he can blame her. there's really only one person who seems to have taken a liking to him, and aventurine really has to catch up with him before he does something incredibly stupid.
which is how he's here, practically panting at ratio's door in the goethe grand hotel on that little planet that threw topaz for a loop, book held in one hand and a foot wedged through the door so that ratio can't close it on him. it would be just his luck to have it run out now of all things and be too late to do anything about it.
first things first. aventurine shoots him a smile, hopeful -- an unevenness to the edges that betray he's not simply pulled one on in order to play to ratio's better senses or the emotions he's clearly intent on ripping out of himself. )
Book. ( very good, adventurine, and he almost kicks himself for it. ) Back at the bar. You forgot it.
This is not a gamble worth playing, as far as Dr Ratio is concerned: he is no prize, to most, and while he prizes himself highly and recognises his merit, time and time again, he is not inclined to allow himself to dwell on what other people think. That doesn't mean he does not end up being completely overwhelmed by it, however - and he has drowned himself in enough simple, plebeian thoughts over the last few weeks that this seems the only solution to his problem.
Logic dictates that an experiment is thus: an idea is put forward, it is tested, examined, and then proven correct or false. Ratio has played through the experiment in his mind and seen the logical conclusion: nothing.
Turning up to Jarilo-VI for his surgery is easy enough, and his hotel room is enough that he does not feel entirely out of place, despite the strange looks he receives from the locals (he is not necessarily well-dressed for the weather, after all, and remains so, attire unchanged).
The door knocks and, expecting dinner, he opens it - and it is good that Aventurine puts his foot in the door, because Ratio is attempting to slam it with all the force of hitting a creature with his book. ]
( it's a damn good thing that, for all his love of finery and foppish fashion that aventurine knows that everything should have a secondary purpose -- his shoes are sturdy enough that he only winces in pain rather than flinching enough to pull back and let the other man slam the door. he's not letting the so-called genius do something so incredibly stupid when there's a simple solution; if the doctor wants it, of course.
and that's what aventurine doesn't know. who would love him? his family did, of course, but they're all dead and aventurine has nothing to offer a perspective partner. who would possibly want to love him? he has nothing to offer, a man who has killed and bartered and gambled his way into his position as a stoneheart -- there's nothing to love anymore.
and yet-- )
You've got quite the upper body strength there, Doc. ( his own teeth grit, and he leans on the door to try and get him to open it at least further enough to talk. ) And you're going to need something to read if you insist on going through with your incredibly stupid plan.
[ He wants to keep pushing against the door, but at the same time it feels vaguely pointless. It's not as if Ratio believes that Aventurine is going to go anywhere now that he's been discovered, and that means there's only so much he can do before his patience runs out. The stupid, idiotic man that he is, he is also stubborn and determined, and Ratio has to accept that.
Isn't that one of the reasons why he is so desperately, sickeningly fond of him?
Gripping at the handle of the door, he stares at the other man before he scowls, shifting and taking a step back. He's not inviting him in - Ratio is no fool - but he's not trying to destroy his foot with the slam of wood any longer. Small mercies indeed.
It doesn't help when he's saying such idiotic things. ]
It was necessary.
[ Pride, arrogance - it curls around him with familiarity, despite his frustration and irritation. ]
I have brought my own texts with me, and therefore your services are not required.
( not having a foot smashed is, in fact, a plus. aventurine doesn't want to be having this conversation in the middle of a hallway on a frozen rock after he just ran to catch the other man in time. he can feel his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, the way his heart hammers against his chest. but it seems like veritas ratio isn't giving him any choice in the matter.
though he still leave his foot in the doorframe, just in case. )
But maybe you can indulge me a little. ( a flash of a sharp, false smile. ) Before you decide that you'd rather feel nothing for me at all.
( there's hurt in his eyes; ratio might be mad at him, but that doesn't change that someone here would rather undergo intensive surgery rather than confess. and, sure, he can't blame him -- he'd meant that when he said that, there are much better people to love in this wide universe of theirs, after all. but it still stings. and unlike most of ratio's barbs, this one lingers, stuck in between his ribs, digging in further. )
Why does he look so desperate? So put out? A gamble is in the making, clearly, but he cannot put his well-learned brain to the test. There is no metric to judge this on - and no world in which he imagines that Aventurine would care to feel the same for him in return. Ergo, a there is a misunderstanding. Perhaps he was here for the Nameless after all.
Waving a hand, he crosses his arms over his chest, irritated and embarrassed. This was supposed to be painless. ]
I will give you precisely five minutes.
[ What could be said in such a short amount of time to change anything between the two of them, after all? And he needs an early night. Surgery beckons on the morrow. ]
( five minutes. he can work with that. aventurine weighs his options for a moment, for the space of a breath, before metaphorically decides to put all of his chips on the table, but keeps his cards close to his chest. best not to give the game away until he knows which way things will fall.
(he wonders, suddenly and like always, if this will be the time his luck fails.)
he has five minutes to find out. )
Why? ( the question seems brittle, hesitant. unlike him, so he pushes forward, shoving that away back under the smile and the mask. ) You... took the idea that I didn't blame you for wanting to cut it out rather poorly. So: why? Besides the fact that you probably hate being in love in general, of course.
( like he said: aventurine is not really the sort of person people love, anymore. he'd hate the dirty, rotten job of being in love with a man who flits through life as if it's a game, throwing himself into dangerous scenarios without a thought and, alright, a view that his life is an acceptable loss. a man who's owned. especially people like ratio. who prides himself on logic, on rational thinking, and seems to barely tolerate him on the best of days.
but he does tolerate him, aventurine reminds himself. will that go, too, with his love? the thought makes something in him twist -- he could live without ratio's love, considering he'd been doing it just fine up until this point. but their friendship? their partnership? he's willing to throw that away along with it, apparently. )
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( considering how often ratio lambasts everyone from not being able to match his intelligence. which isn't really fair -- not everyone can earn eight doctorates. )
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[ Not everyone can be this much of a fucking bitch, either. ]
Are you going to explain yourself?
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Would you believe me if I said work ran long?
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[ Fruitless, to lie, but. ]
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( that's as much of the truth as aventurine wants to give. )
Anyway. I'm guessing this isn't just a casual chat. You don't seem the type.
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[ Ratio reaches down, grabbing the drink and. Drinking it. Fuck. ]
No. I am going to be absent from this weekend onwards, and I thought it best to inform you.
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( not if he's drinking like that he's not. )
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[ So he will be indisposed, obviously. ]
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that's unexpected. aventurine blinks away his surprise, propping himself up on his elbow as he leans into the other man's personal space for a brief second. )
You don't look ill. Unless you've decided to use one of those doctorates of yours to self-diagnose, in which case-- ( he shrugs. ) The doctor knows best.
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[ Another drink. Phew. ]
It will be some months until I am fully recovered.
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( he should probably leave it alone. he does, in fact, leave it alone.
for about five seconds -- the time it takes to school his face better so the concern that's crawling up his gut doesn't show. )
There's very little these days that require that long of a recovery period.
( and he is currently attempting to go through all of them, one after another, and match up any symptoms to the man sitting in front of him. ugh, this would be easier if he could put in a request for ratio's medical records with jade and actually get them. )
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[ It isn't, of course. He could tell the man beside him how he feels, but he chooses not to. He's weighed his options, put the thought in, and now... He knows what the only good outcome is.
Liberation from doubt. ]
If there is anything you need me to do, now is the time to say it.
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aventurine can't even begin to unpack the knot starting to form in his stomach. )
Stay for another drink? Unless you can't possibly keep yourself away from my gift any longer.
( he needs to buy himself more time. )
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[ The reality being, of course, he wants to have a little more time with this warm, content feeling inside of him. A little more time pretending.
A pathetic display of emotion. ]
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that's the last truth he's going to allow hanging around tonight, however, and he slides into something easier for what he's going to ask next. because he's exhausted the list, and is willing to hedge his bets.
luck is always on his side. )
So. ( he says, taking a larger sip from his drink than usual before allowing nonchalance to color his voice. ) Who is it?
( aventurine does not look at ratio. he can't. his own feelings aren't the issue here, when it's ratio who's going to be undergoing surgery to remove the flowers from his lungs. which is so very like him, aventurine concludes, avoiding the obvious answer in favor of one that can have a assured outcome.
he just hopes the other poor sod never finds out. )
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He should have counted on this. For all that Aventurine might play the fool, the idle gambler with no wisdom to support his clever little insights, there’s no denying that he has the intelligence to back it up. To be a few steps ahead of everyone around him, to know what bet to make to get the outcome he most wants. It seems only natural that he would deduce the condition with scarce information.
Very little these days require such a long period of recovery. He has no outward symptoms. Therefore, a conclusion can be drawn - a gamble can be risked. Ratio sighs. ]
Irrelevant.
[ He wishes he had started drinking three hours ago.
He wishes he had left.
He wishes a lot of things that betray his confident mind. ]
Telling you would serve no purpose.
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except aventurine wants to know how long he'll wait for him. if there is something he'll do for him that he won't do for anyone else. if the other man thinks about what aventurine might like the way he does about ratio. if he could spin the time spent with veritas ratio into longer chunks, hour by hour, until one day one of them stays the night.
aventurine is very aware that he loves doctor veritas ratio. he knows his luck. and he knows that the only way for ratio to love him back is if he'd rather cut the damn emotion out instead. )
I mean, I get it. ( the mask cracks with a hard laugh, a twist of aventurine's lips as he finally looks at ratio. ) I wouldn't want to be in love with me, either.
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This is not the outcome he wanted. He shouldn’t turned and left hours ago, rather literally, should have raised himself up and found his way back to the tiny clinic with a doctor who won’t speak his name. Ratio had made a mistake, as rare an offence as that night be, and the anger and irritation he feels burns through him like an inferno.
He never should have organised this.
Finishing his drink, he shakes his head and pushing himself up and away from the stool, brushing his hand absently against the shape of his torso, imaginary dirt on the fabric of his clothes. Expression terse, antsy and angry inside himself, he pushes hair from his face and shakes his head. Remoulding himself back into the cutting figure he had been before his heart had been so painfully laid bare. ]
If that’s what you believe, then my decision has been proven to be all the more appropriate. You’ve had your one drink, so our appointment is over. Good day.
[ He has to return to that planet for one last set of exams and then the operation that evening anyway, so it’s best to make a hasty retreat. There’s no further comment - just Ratio leaving as swiftly as he had arrived, slipping into a crowd to disappear, ready to return to ice cold (both in planet and in feeling). ]
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Fuck.
( aventurine crumples, head in hands for a long moment. when he feels like he can breathe again it's only to look up, settle the bill, and leave. except-- ratio forgot the book. he scowls at it, as if it's the book's fault for the mess his evening's become. he shouldn't have come.
he shouldn't have gotten the book because he thought ratio might like it. he shouldn't have fallen in love with ratio in the first place. what did he expect to happen, really? for the other man to let aventurine exist in his life until he got bored of him? until he saw that he really was clinging to his winning hands with fists and white knuckles and decided he wasn't worth dealing with anymore?
but if that wasn't what ratio wanted, then--
aventurine grabs the book, quickly makes his apologies to the bartender, and darts after ratio. aeons, how much time did he even have left--
not long, it turns out. he'd run into that trailblazer, who'd been most helpful purely by accident -- though he thinks that perhaps if he'd been more direct she still would have helped him in spite of her general... distaste for him. not that he can blame her. there's really only one person who seems to have taken a liking to him, and aventurine really has to catch up with him before he does something incredibly stupid.
which is how he's here, practically panting at ratio's door in the goethe grand hotel on that little planet that threw topaz for a loop, book held in one hand and a foot wedged through the door so that ratio can't close it on him. it would be just his luck to have it run out now of all things and be too late to do anything about it.
first things first. aventurine shoots him a smile, hopeful -- an unevenness to the edges that betray he's not simply pulled one on in order to play to ratio's better senses or the emotions he's clearly intent on ripping out of himself. )
Book. ( very good, adventurine, and he almost kicks himself for it. ) Back at the bar. You forgot it.
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This is not a gamble worth playing, as far as Dr Ratio is concerned: he is no prize, to most, and while he prizes himself highly and recognises his merit, time and time again, he is not inclined to allow himself to dwell on what other people think. That doesn't mean he does not end up being completely overwhelmed by it, however - and he has drowned himself in enough simple, plebeian thoughts over the last few weeks that this seems the only solution to his problem.
Logic dictates that an experiment is thus: an idea is put forward, it is tested, examined, and then proven correct or false. Ratio has played through the experiment in his mind and seen the logical conclusion: nothing.
Turning up to Jarilo-VI for his surgery is easy enough, and his hotel room is enough that he does not feel entirely out of place, despite the strange looks he receives from the locals (he is not necessarily well-dressed for the weather, after all, and remains so, attire unchanged).
The door knocks and, expecting dinner, he opens it - and it is good that Aventurine puts his foot in the door, because Ratio is attempting to slam it with all the force of hitting a creature with his book. ]
Do you think I care for a book in this situation?
[ He pushes at the door. Fuck off. ]
I did not request your company. Leave.
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( it's a damn good thing that, for all his love of finery and foppish fashion that aventurine knows that everything should have a secondary purpose -- his shoes are sturdy enough that he only winces in pain rather than flinching enough to pull back and let the other man slam the door. he's not letting the so-called genius do something so incredibly stupid when there's a simple solution; if the doctor wants it, of course.
and that's what aventurine doesn't know. who would love him? his family did, of course, but they're all dead and aventurine has nothing to offer a perspective partner. who would possibly want to love him? he has nothing to offer, a man who has killed and bartered and gambled his way into his position as a stoneheart -- there's nothing to love anymore.
and yet-- )
You've got quite the upper body strength there, Doc. ( his own teeth grit, and he leans on the door to try and get him to open it at least further enough to talk. ) And you're going to need something to read if you insist on going through with your incredibly stupid plan.
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[ He wants to keep pushing against the door, but at the same time it feels vaguely pointless. It's not as if Ratio believes that Aventurine is going to go anywhere now that he's been discovered, and that means there's only so much he can do before his patience runs out. The stupid, idiotic man that he is, he is also stubborn and determined, and Ratio has to accept that.
Isn't that one of the reasons why he is so desperately, sickeningly fond of him?
Gripping at the handle of the door, he stares at the other man before he scowls, shifting and taking a step back. He's not inviting him in - Ratio is no fool - but he's not trying to destroy his foot with the slam of wood any longer. Small mercies indeed.
It doesn't help when he's saying such idiotic things. ]
It was necessary.
[ Pride, arrogance - it curls around him with familiarity, despite his frustration and irritation. ]
I have brought my own texts with me, and therefore your services are not required.
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( not having a foot smashed is, in fact, a plus. aventurine doesn't want to be having this conversation in the middle of a hallway on a frozen rock after he just ran to catch the other man in time. he can feel his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, the way his heart hammers against his chest. but it seems like veritas ratio isn't giving him any choice in the matter.
though he still leave his foot in the doorframe, just in case. )
But maybe you can indulge me a little. ( a flash of a sharp, false smile. ) Before you decide that you'd rather feel nothing for me at all.
( there's hurt in his eyes; ratio might be mad at him, but that doesn't change that someone here would rather undergo intensive surgery rather than confess. and, sure, he can't blame him -- he'd meant that when he said that, there are much better people to love in this wide universe of theirs, after all. but it still stings. and unlike most of ratio's barbs, this one lingers, stuck in between his ribs, digging in further. )
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Why does he look so desperate? So put out? A gamble is in the making, clearly, but he cannot put his well-learned brain to the test. There is no metric to judge this on - and no world in which he imagines that Aventurine would care to feel the same for him in return. Ergo, a there is a misunderstanding. Perhaps he was here for the Nameless after all.
Waving a hand, he crosses his arms over his chest, irritated and embarrassed. This was supposed to be painless. ]
I will give you precisely five minutes.
[ What could be said in such a short amount of time to change anything between the two of them, after all? And he needs an early night. Surgery beckons on the morrow. ]
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(he wonders, suddenly and like always, if this will be the time his luck fails.)
he has five minutes to find out. )
Why? ( the question seems brittle, hesitant. unlike him, so he pushes forward, shoving that away back under the smile and the mask. ) You... took the idea that I didn't blame you for wanting to cut it out rather poorly. So: why? Besides the fact that you probably hate being in love in general, of course.
( like he said: aventurine is not really the sort of person people love, anymore. he'd hate the dirty, rotten job of being in love with a man who flits through life as if it's a game, throwing himself into dangerous scenarios without a thought and, alright, a view that his life is an acceptable loss. a man who's owned. especially people like ratio. who prides himself on logic, on rational thinking, and seems to barely tolerate him on the best of days.
but he does tolerate him, aventurine reminds himself. will that go, too, with his love? the thought makes something in him twist -- he could live without ratio's love, considering he'd been doing it just fine up until this point. but their friendship? their partnership? he's willing to throw that away along with it, apparently. )
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