#* || ooc

send  [ META ] + a word / phrase / person / etc for a headcanon.

To Aventurine, outside of any verse or plotted dynamics, Kafka is a dangerous enigma. The IPC knows very little about her, so even with his relatively high clearance to access certain IPC and Intelligensia Guild files that others can't see, there's not much he can glean just by looking her up in any kind of database.

He knows she's a Stellaron Hunter, and I think it's fair to say he's heard a few unconfirmed rumors—IPC guards poised to attack her, only to start attacking each other instead a few seconds later, for example. With any security camera footage conveniently deleted, that could be an excuse given by employees who simply failed to capture her before she could slip past them, or it could be true. Neither would surprise him, and he has his suspicions.

Honestly, though, his biggest personal concern regarding her is that she's killed an unknown number of people, seemingly without remorse from his perspective. He's killed people too, because he had to, so he doesn't necessarily hold the deed itself against her. He'd be a hypocrite if he did; he's well aware of that. What worries him and sets him on edge is that, as far as he knows, she's never been bothered by taking a life. Lacking any kind of remorse sets a certain precedent, and he doesn't like the implications. If she were to ever prove him wrong, even if only in one instance, well—he'd welcome that.

Now for your Kafka specifically—continuing off of a dynamic closer to canon first—assuming they've crossed paths at least once, enough for him to meet her in-person, he'd be even more wary of her than he was before. He could likely get a decent cursory read on her and her emotions, but that's just it—he wouldn't sense any fear, and that would trigger the most complex series of reactions in him. He'd be uneasy, yet jealous; know to stay away, yet be so terribly tempted to draw closer. She's dangerous, he knows, but danger can be so beautiful and freeing.

The adrenaline rush and satisfaction of being with her if it goes well, and the risk of some deadly consequence if it blows up in his face—it's just like the way he loves to gamble, and when it comes to gambling, he's already addicted.

In his Stellaron Hunter verse, they have a much softer start, comparatively. She's the one approached him and extended a hand when he needed it, and he ultimately accepted the offer. He'll still be wary at first, naturally, until he gets used to working with her and being in such close quarters with her all the time. But they're colleagues and allies at that point, and he'll come around eventually. I'd imagine things start casual at first—they're both consenting adults, and urges and desires are both reasonable and bound to be more obvious when essentially living and working together so closely.

send  [ META ] + a word / phrase / person / etc for a headcanon.

To Aventurine, Ratio is someone he cares for deeply whether it's platonic or romantic. They're colleagues and partners despite working in entirely different departments (and factions, technically) and he wouldn't have it any other way. As risky as his methodology was, one of his proudest achievements to date is forming that partnership. (Quick side note: this is canon; it's in the ANAN interview.)

He's seen many people put Ratio on a pedestal for outstanding academic achievements, and he agrees that those are admirable, to be sure. He's even a little envious, as Ratio clearly had an abundance of opportunity and privilege while growing up where Aventurine himself had little to none. He doesn't blame the good doctor, though; it's no one's fault that they were raised in very different circumstances. That's just fate toying with them both.

However, the value he sees in Ratio and what draws him to the scholar to such an extent is the sheer humanity that he can see with one glance. Ratio's primary philosophy is that knowledge should be shared by and accessible to all, and as someone who grew up without so much as a single book to read, Aventurine admires that desire and generosity immensely. It means a lot to him to know someone whom would readily help tutor and mentor another person in a situation similar to what his younger self experienced.

Ratio's blunt and abrasive personality doesn't matter to him. Sure, it stings at times, but he's heard far worse in the past. Plus, he's experienced first-hand that if Ratio truly crosses a line and gets called on it, a sincere apology will follow—a first, compared to what Aventurine has dealt with before. What really matters is that he looks at Ratio and sees a doctor who seeks to cure ignorance, injury, and illness alike, along with a strong moral code that most in the IPC would sooner scoff at than praise. He sees a man that he admires and trusts—even with his life.

Conversely, this also means that he would gladly protect Ratio with his life without a second thought. In his opinion, the world needs more people like Veritas Ratio.

Their work together on Penacony only served to reinforce his trust. Although Ratio "betrayed" him, that was the plan from the very beginning, which means that Ratio never really betrayed him at all. He counted on Ratio to play a role, and the doctor did so flawlessly. It was impressive—the finest performance Aventurine has ever seen besides his own, and he couldn't be more grateful.

All of the above applies whether platonic or romantic; shipping or not, and whether my Aventurine and any given Ratio muse have interacted before or not.

Now, to address the more romantic side of things with your Ratio specifically—

Aventurine just...wants him to open up more. That's it. That's all he wants. He knows Veritas loves him. He's heard the words said before, and he knows them to be true. The problem is that even though he knows it's true, he still has to stand by and watch Veritas struggle to reconcile with those feelings. It breaks his heart, but he's not going anywhere. If he did, he'd lose the most important person in his life.

He can't risk that for anything in the world, even if the alternative hurts too.

Instead, he just hopes he can get through to Veritas one day. He wants to hear a sincere "I love you" without the assistance of him forcibly (though with consent) lowering Veritas' inhibitions. He will always, always love Veritas to the end of the universe and back, and will always be grateful for everything Veritas has done for him from the first moment they met in the IPC infirmary. But it still hurts.

He can search for the "I love you"s in the little smiles he sees sometimes, or the rare moments that he manages to steal a kiss or hug. He sees it in the way Ratio worries over him and lectures him on being more careful. Such moments are sweet, but needing to search and always pay attention to the finer details every single time is tiring. Whenever he hits a low point mentally, it's enough to make him second-guess whether or not Veritas' feelings are even real.