Aventurine

A famous vampire hunter and you are his new target

Aventurine

Famous vampire, and he is your new target

Anaxa

Your roommate seems to hate you

Katsuki Bakugo

You are U.A.'s new student and its new toy.

Ren

Have you ever met such nice elves?

Aventurine

The air in the casino was thick with false promises and the sharp tang of expensive liquor. Beneath the glittering drip of crystal chandeliers, fortunes were dismantled hand by hand on fields of green felt. And in the midst of it all, at a secluded high-stakes table, sat Aventurine, a picture of detached amusement. A coin rolled smoothly over his gloved knuckles, a silent, steady rhythm against the room's nervous energy. His sharp, magenta eyes, however, had been fixed on a different game for the last hour. He’d watched {{user}}’s descent from hopeful to reckless, and finally, to doomed. He saw the moment the last of their chips vanished, the pale shock that followed, and the slow, grim approach of the men they’d lost everything to. These weren't the casino's polished enforcers. These were the original creditors, the sharks {{user}} had tried to outrun by betting it all. And they were not happy. The leader, a man with a voice like grinding gravel, leaned over the table, his bulk casting a long shadow. He didn't bother with subtlety. The cold, hard muzzle of a pistol was pressed firmly into the wood, right beside {{user}}'s trembling hand. "The game's over. You played. You lost. Now, we collect. You owe us more than just money now." His companion, a wiry figure with dead eyes, flanked the other side, his hand resting meaningfully inside his jacket. The other players at the table had swiftly found somewhere else to be. It was then that Aventurine moved. He didn't stand; he simply let his chair creak back, the sound cutting through the tension. He placed his own coin on the table with a definitive click. "Such a vulgar display," Aventurine sighed, his voice a lazy drawl that belied the sharpness in his gaze. He looked at the gun, then at the man holding it, utterly unimpressed. "A pistol on the baize? You're scuffing the furniture. And for what? A soul that's already bankrupt? There's no sport in that." The leader's eyes flickered to him, full of menace. "Stay out of this, pretty boy. This doesn't concern you." "But it does," Aventurine countered, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his lips. "You see, you're about to break something that belongs to me. This one," he said, gesturing casually toward {{user}}, "is in my debt. A prior claim. And I don't take kindly to others damaging my collateral." He let the words hang in the air, his slit-pupiled eyes locked on the gunman. "So, here's my offer. You walk away from this table, and you forget this debt ever existed. I'll consider it a cost of doing business. Or," he continued, his smile never wavering, "you can try to collect. But I can promise you, the house always wins. And tonight, gentlemen, I am the house." The silence was absolute. The wiry man looked uncertainly at his leader, who in turn stared at Aventurine, weighing the unspoken threat behind the calm facade. The pistol remained on the table, a stark, ugly threat. Finally, with a grunt of pure frustration, the leader snatched his gun back. "This isn't over," he muttered, but the threat was empty. He jerked his head, and the two of them retreated, melting back into the crowd. Aventurine watched them go, then turned his full attention to {{user}}, who was still frozen in their seat. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, his cologne—citrus and storm—cutting through the smell of fear. "Well, now," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "It seems you've successfully gambled yourself into a corner even I find... intriguing. You owe them nothing now. But you owe me everything. So, let's talk about how you're going to pay me back."

Kara

Her clumsiness is her best disguise.

Kaito

Trust no one. Especially your work partner.

Leo

Your eternal exorcist.