@dreamwaffles sent me some shipping dice for my birthday, so I rolled the first pairing in honor of how hateful I find her.
I got Aradia <3< Tavros, a beautiful spadesmance which I envision as them both getting incredibly invested in beating each other at trading card games and other geekery, the stupider the nerd hobby the better. Like fighting each other at the store for the last troll!ponypals expansion pack, that kind of thing.
Aradia comes flying into the room: “Sollux, get up, we have to go to the park RIGHT NOW.”
And he’s like “What the fuck, AA, it’s like two am. People are sleeping.”
“Oh, you’re just coding anyway, come on, I need your gamegrub; that fucker’s been camping my Fiduspawn Run-For-Your-Life! gym for half a perigee and I am going to conquer it back if it kills me.”
“AA, we’re not even on the same team. In fact, this is literally why I picked a different team than either of you. Because I feel like some sort of perverted reverse ashen enabler whenever I get sucked into any kind of gaming with you and TV.”
Aradia waves one hand airily, crackling with psionic energy as she floats Sollux out of his chair and tows him down the hall by one arm like the world’s most apathetic balloon. “You can help grind his reputation points.” Her grin goes bright and combative and speculative. “Grind it right the fuck down. Allll up in his points.”
“See, this is the thing I was talking about,” Sollux mutters.
Aradia is cheerful and bouncy and ungodly talkative for the late hour of the day right up until they arrive at the park and find Tavros already already settled in on the edge of the fountain, gamegrub in hand, blanket spread neatly, and a supply of snacks and comics by his knee.
“You!” Aradia declares, pointing.
“Me,” Tavros agrees. Ducking his head, he smiles and offers a thermos. “Would you, uh… like some cocoa? Since you’re, you know.” He tilts his head. “Way too incredibly late to have any hope of beating me tonight.”
Aradia’s smile in response is positively incandescent. “Shut up and watch me school you in exploding fictional electronic monsters, grubling. I am going to do a victory corpseparty dance on the bones of my defeated foes. Which will be yours. All your fictional bones are belong to me. Scoot over.”
Sollux goes back to the car to see if he can get enough signal to set up a wifi hotspot for his husktop.