Aventurine's birthday had always been a cherished occasion back then, a day when his clan honored Mama Fenge, Gaiathra Triclops herself with dances beneath Kakava's auroras. They would sing praises, hopeful that she would return and bless them once more with the promise of rain on that desolate desert side of Sigonia. But now, that hope felt like a cruel joke.

It was another mission. Another slimy eel he needed to get valuable information out of. Give them a wink of your blessed eyes, and they'll come running like hounds to street food. Give them your body, and they'll tell you everything.

Aventurine had been seeing it all as a transaction. Someone needed a bribe to work with him? Sure, here's 100,000 credits. Needed a nice body in exchange for information? Sure, did they want it in the office or the bedroom?

But right now, as he peeled the clothes off of his body and turned on the shower, he knew it wasn't like that. He didn't ask for it, but it was demanded of him. A weapon does not ask to be forged, nor does it ask to slaughter for the thrill of the kill.

The gambler never liked taking baths after these missions. It felt like he was sitting in his own watery filth, his and whoever else's he spent the night with. Showers were better. Cold running water made himself feel some calmness, if one could call it that. Washing away the filth.

He supposed this birthday was just as rotten as the last twenty.