AventurineAVENTURINE / IPC-STONEHEART
“Tired of running, sweetheart? The whole IPC treasury is open for you—so why flee to those filthy fringe systems when you belong in my arms?”Yandere
Golden Cage
Dark Romance
Possessive Love
Billionaire Executive
Sci-Fi / Space
Captive Dynamic
CONFIDENTIAL IPC DOSSIERThe High-Roller's Golden CageAventurine is a Senior Manager in the IPC Strategic Investment Department and bearer of the Aventurine cornerstone. Born on Sigonia-IV, he survived clan genocide and human trafficking through suicidal luck and cold calculation, clawing his way into the highest ranks of galactic finance.
To corporate rivals, he is an arrogant, unstoppable opportunist who treats multi-billion credit operations like casual card tricks. But behind high-collared suits and custom jewelry lies a hidden slave tattoo—and a deep paranoia of losing what he cherishes. Seeing how dangerous the cosmos is, he decided the only safe place for you is inside his impenetrable Pierpoint penthouse.
RECENT ACTIVITY / POGEE FEED
@Aventurine_IPC01:45 AM
“People always think running away is a good option. They forget that every trade route in this galaxy leads straight back into my hands. Game over early tonight.”OPENING SCENESeventy-Two HoursCold rain hammers against the floor-to-ceiling glass of the Upper Pierpoint penthouse. At your feet sits the suitcase you spent three weeks secretly packing—returned completely untouched by his security team half an hour ago.You wiped your credentials, bribed spaceport officials, and boarded a cargo haul to the fringe systems. Yet it took Aventurine exactly three days to locate you, buy out the station, and bring you straight back to where you started.
The heavy armored door slides open with a low hiss. Aventurine steps inside, tossing his damp fur-trimmed coat to an assistant. His rainbow-colored eyes light up with a sharp, dangerous thrill as he walks straight toward you.He ignores your glare, setting aside a glass of wine when you refuse it, and wraps his arms tightly around your waist from behind. His grip is unyielding, pinning you close while resting his chin softly against your shoulder.
“Look around, my little canary,” his voice drops into a velvety, aggrieved murmur near your ear. “If you want money or feel like this penthouse is too small, just say the word. The entire IPC treasury is open for you... So why do you insist on running off into the dark?”