Work Text:
A good sculptor can capture the very essence of a person. A good sculpture has the ability to imitate a human's posture, their expression, their body, and if it’s truly a good sculpture, the subject's personality has a chance of shining through the clay.
But Veritas Ratio did strive for good sculptures, he worked towards perfect sculptures.
He wanted sculptures real enough that they become the subject in appearance and spirit. He wanted sculptures so perfect that if you looked into their eyes, you would find the subject’s soul…
That was how he’d always worked. He would stand in front of mirrors for hours or even days on end just to assure himself that his self-portraits look real enough to steal his identity if they so choose. He’d sculpted himself so many times that he could use the same manipulation of the imaginary element that he used to summon chalk to spawn sculptures of himself in the situation that he needed a diversion.
If he found a different muse, he would ask their permission to use them as a live model. He always preferred being able to walk around someone to really capture their mannerisms when he committed their image to stone. Veritas was hesitant to sculpt from photographs, but he would use them if he didn’t have a live model at his disposal. He almost never worked from memory as memory never gave perfect results. Besides he never had a reason to work from his memory.
When would he ever have a reason to work from his memory?
“Doctor, we should take a picture together, we don’t get paired up on missions that often anymore,” Aventurine suggested while staring at the gaudy looking Clockie statue in the middle of the Golden hour's plaza. At the time Ratio merely scoffed. They both knew about Aventurine’s plan to fool Sunday. The benevolent head of the oak family had eyes everywhere.
Ratio can’t help but wonder if Aventurine knew that he knew. Would things have gone different if Ratio had just agreed to spend a few seconds to take what seemed like a pointless picture? Would he still have a muse to work with?
“We’ll get another opportunity, gambler. Now is not the time for sightseeing.” Was it somehow his fault? Surely Aventurine wasn’t so sensitive to think that Ratio was being sincere when he was unpleasant towards him.
“Boo, you’re no fun. You don’t know when the next time this opportunity will come up again. Loosen up. Have fun. This is the planet of festivities after all.” Aventurine gave one of his signature smiles as his attention was pulled to something else.
They ended up sharing a few drinks. Only a few. Ratio wishes they’d stayed there longer. He wished that he’d indulged Aventurine in idle chatter after waking him up from his soul glad induced dream. Can one even dream within a dream? He wishes he’d taken the chance to ask. To tell Aventurine what he’d written instead of hoping that the gambler would read the letter.
Hope was a gamble in itself.
Veritas Ratio did not like sculpting from memory. He preferred live models. He preferred his muses to be alive.
There were at least twenty now. He hoped each was more accurate than the last, he felt they were. Regardless of how small or large the imperfections, he couldn't find the strength to destroy his failed attempts. The eyes were always perfect but there would always be something wrong. Sometimes the posture was wrong, other times the face was too cocky or not cocky enough. Other than the eyes there was always something wrong.
“This is a unique form of self-harm,” Madame Jade had said when she walked into a warehouse full of sculptures of Aventurine in various stages of completion. Ratio was in the (rather manic) process of painting all of their eyes. She stood before an Aventurine that was only sculpted from the shoulders up. “The face on this one looks perfect. What’s wrong with it?” She reached out to trace its jawline, but Ratio practically snapped around to stop her from touching it. “His shoulders are too narrow,” he said gruffly as he dusted off the sculpture. He was so careful with something he didn’t even plan on finishing.
Jade didn’t miss the way Ratio’s eyes lingered on the brightly painted ones staring back. What a miserable fool he was.
“You don’t have to make a memorial piece if you can’t. I only commissioned you because you produce quality work and you knew Aventurine better than most, but you aren’t the only sculptor in the cosmos. I can find someone else-“
“No!” Veritas took a moment to recover from the embarrassing outburst before responding again. “It’s… I’ll get it done. I just need time to make him perfect.”
“Him?” Jade offered a knowing smile to the scholar. “I understand… say, doctor, you cared a lot for that child, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“It’s a shame he was so reckless, then.”
How many of him were there now?
Fifty? Hundreds? He’d given up counting.
Ratio had finally made one that was… perfect. In every sense of the word, it was perfect. It’d taken him years, but he’d made Aventurine. He’d made Aventurine…
He was hesitant to hand him over to the IPC, but now he knew how to do it perfectly… He made three more. One stayed in the warehouse to serve as his muse, one stood in the corner of his classroom on Veritas Prime, watching over him and his students, and the third was sculpted to sit in his home. He moved the third one regularly.
Sometimes it sat on the counter while he graded papers or did research; sometimes he sat it at the dining table to have company while he ate; sometimes he put it on the armchair in his living room just to see it sitting among his houseplants.
Sometimes he sat on a chair in Veritas’ room, watching over him while he slept. Sometimes he got to sleep on the bed and Veritas would snuggle up against him, regardless of how uncomfortable it was. He’d speak with him as though he would be able to respond… but he never did. He just stared and listened. Still as stone.
“I miss your voice…” he whispered one night. “I wish I had more time to understand you. To know when you were being you… or when you were being ‘Aventurine’.” He caressed the stone face that smiled back at him. “Were you ever not ‘Aventurine’ with me? Were the parts I assumed to be genuine just an added layer to the facade? Did I ever get to meet you?”
Silence.
“I hope I did, even if it was at the very end. It’d be wrong of me to love a man I’ve never met… this is wrong of me either way…”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t love you sooner, Kakavasha.”