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"If they were that pretty, I'd have already ripped them out and sold them." The blond haired man said, head rolling as he leaned back against the red cushions within a casino. His eyes of purple and blue colors shifted off of the table. On his side of the table, there were several stacks of chips, all symbols of his countless victories, yet none left him satisfied. One leg crossed over the other, the gambler eyed his opponents. "Why do you ask? Interested in buying?" He laughed faintly, though his peers did not mirror that sentiment.
Said opponents exchanged concerned glances between one another. Not only could they smell the booze clinging to the Stoneheart's expensive clothing, but they could see that his head was in the clouds, far out from their game and whatever competition was left. This challenge had amassed to some type of odd power trip. Needless to say, Aventurine's two opponents were settled, wishing to depart from the table— not out of discomfort. "I can't imagine you'd actually tear your own eyes out." Commented one fellow gambler, a Pepeshi, fluff-ball sticking out from her hair bouncing as she spoke. She was evidently dignified. Aventurine admired her elegance before he replied, "Who knows? If the price is right, I just might." He smiled half-drunkenly. His head was whirling. In that moment, he felt light and airy, yet he was also terrified of the figurative height.
