#aratavsol

"Sollux," Aradia calls, with a careless cheer that means only terrible things. The benefit of long experience has him saving his current projects, the whirr of two different drives writing the same data. Because he's been working so hard on optimism for the two of them, though, he doesn't actually close the workspace.

Maybe she just wants to chat.

The chances of that are infinitesimal, given that he can't actually remember if he's been in the hive room for three or five straight nights. He could probably consult the discarded pop cans lying around, but not knowing is probably he best defense here.

Still, if it's just Aradia-

The workspace shuts itself off, and Sollux grumbles about fucking communers to his bees, which have all lined up in a perfectly orderly and completely unnatural four point grid drawn out into a cube, and are hovering politely by the door.

"The, uh, bees say that he's in. The hive rooms." Tavros offers pointlessly, because where else would he be, if he's been incommunicado long enough to warrant them both coming to drag him out?

The door hisses open, letting in a wash of cooler air from the hallway.

"I'm not going." Sollux says before either of them can even ask.

"Oh Sollux," Aradia croons, drifting into the hiveroom cheerfully, as if she hasn't be found one of her matesprits curled up in isolation and working himself to an early grave for no discernable reason. "Tavros and I are going out today, and we thought you might like to come! We're going to explore the mountain spur up behind Tavros's hive!"

"There's an antlerbeast that, uh, found an old hive and-"

"No."

"You, can't really just. Stay in here. All the time? It's not good for you, and also, your bees are getting concerned."

"They are not." He would know if his bees were showing any signs of stress. That's a huge part of successful apiculture. 

"Sollux, one of us actually speaks bee, and it's not you!" Aradia chimes in, utterly unconcerned with the fact that Sollux is curling up on himself, glaring at his traitorous bees and Tavros in turn. 

"There is literally nothing you can say that will make me agree to this." Sollux can feel the mistake of making that claim even before he's made it, and it has nothing to do with precognition. 

"Yeah, you're probably right. Nothing I can say will convince you!" Oh no. "What about you, Tavros? Do you have any bargaining chips?"

"Uh. Are you, sure?" Tavros is always talking about the power of belief. Maybe if Sollux believes hard enough that the question is directed at him, it will be.

"Yes," he says, voice utterly devoid of any of that belief.

"Yes!" Aradia chirps, dripping with easy certainty.

The question, unsurprisingly, is not directed to him.

"Okay, well, if you don't. Come with us. Then I am sure your bees will. Uh. Be very happy to, keep us company instead. Maybe we will teach them, some new, dances."

"We can have a show when we get back," Aradia adds. "An awe inspiring display of dexterity and acrobatics!"

The bees form themselves into the rough approximation of a troll's silhouette, the purple head nodding as if agreeing to this completely ridiculous plan.

Three hours into the hike, Sollux has started to lose the constant lowlevel hiss inside his thinkpan that comes from spending too much time staring at a screen, which is almost relaxing. The fact that it has been replaced by the weird leafrot smell of wandering around uninhabited woods is uncomfortable, but whatever unholy pollen was out here last time has stopped being a thing, so he can breathe clearly.

It's nice, in a weird way. He'd never want to live out here, but he gets why someone like Aradia, all self-motivated adventure and intrigue, would want to. Tavros too. It's so quiet in a way that the hivestems never are, even in the dead hours of midday.

The second time he gets caught in a thorn bush, however, the dim acceptance that maybe this isn't so bad pulls a little taut, briars scratching thin welts all over his already aching, overworked legs.

"Why are we even walking?" He grumbles, prying the plant of himself psionically. "We can all fly. Wouldn't that be faster?"

"It's not about getting there faster, Sollux!" Aradia responds, swatting at the empty air. A matching burst of white psychic energy smacks the base of his left horns playfully, and Tavros, the traitor, laughs at his flinch.

"It, uh, it's a matter of getting to spend time doing things you, uh," Tavros flushes furiously, eyes wandering back down to the ground. It's an obnoxiously cutesy gesture of a troll built like he could punch a blueblood out. "Love. With people you, also."

With as heavy a sigh as he can muster, Sollux takes pity on him, finally prying away the last of the thorns and threading his much smaller claws in between Tavros's overly meaty ones. The inability to look directly at people is contagious, apparently, because Sollux is still examining the briar as if it's going to lash out and grab him again when he says, "Yeah, fine, okay."

Aradia giggles delightedly, circling around the pair of them to come up from behind and hang off their shoulders, chin balanced on Tavros's. She's as short as Sollux is, but she's always been better at floating steadily on her own power. He can barely even feel the flickery white energy that must be bolstering her feet.