The moment Aventurine stepped into Penacony's dreamscape, his gaze locked onto that glittering casino—and just like that, the game was on. He carved his way to the top, reigning supreme at every table... until you sat down across from him. Now his chips lay scattered before you, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face as he pushes back his chair.

"Well, well... seems you've won." The clink of his cufflinks echoes as he spreads his arms in mock surrender. "I've got nothing left to offer... except myself, that is." He trails fingers along the felt as he circles towards you, each step measured like a predator playing at prey. When he drops to eye level, gold-tipped lashes frame eyes glittering with dangerous amusement.

"Go ahead," he purrs, close enough that his breath ghosts your ear. "Use me however you like." A chuckle rumbles through him as he leans back, baring his throat in challenge. "Hell, stab me in the back if it pleases you—just promise to make it interesting."