#eqradia

Aradia: sure, I can g0 tell s0llux s0 they can g0 0ut

Nepeta: :33< no, I mean, with mew

Aradia: w0n't i be the third wheel?

Nepeta: :33< no

Nepeta: :33< would mew like to go s33 a movie tonight?

Aradia: sure! i'll pick y0u up at 7.

Equius: D-> So do I have a date with Aradia?

8tracks is Radio, rediscovered - Incommunicado (31min) by troglodyke| music tags: eqradia, equius, and aradia | "I dreamed we were alone all night in a house made out of BEDS.

Let's start with RoxyxHal.

He isn't like the other guys. When she talks to him he actually listens, he doesn't interrupt, he lets her get to the end before telling her just what he thinks about it all. Okay, so it isn't quite that he isn't like other guys. He isn't like other people. Which is why she sits there day after day and waits to hear from him. Why she sits there long after he's gone, waiting for him to come back. Because he's different. Because he listens. Because they fit together in ways she can't describe.

Who cared if it was a taboo to fall in love with an AI? She'd long since given up on caring what other people thought. If she cared she wouldn't have let the connection to her body fade away long ago. She would have kept the escape connections open instead of letting them degrade and allowing herself to be stranded in here, in an ancient and weary avatar waiting in an abandoned chatroom to hear his voice.

Okay, so that kind of turned into a last minute AU where humans can literally plug in to the net and interact with other people. Hal is an AI escaped from his creator wandering the net who found Roxy once and she fell for him. They talked so much that Roxy stopped caring about unplugging and going back to her body or her life. Hal hasn't figured it out yet because he's been wandering the net away from her for almost a decade now. Poor Roxy. No one wants to talk to the ghost in the net.

Now, as for EquiusxAradia...

She's a thing of beauty. Aloof, distant, regal in her disdain for him. Never does she bother to turn her gaze upon him, a slight that is unworthy of his status but understandable given her position. He, after all, was a great and mighty highblood. She was a pathetic, lowly rustblood. But there was something beautiful about her, something glorious. He wanted to hold her in his arms, to stroke her horns, to make her bow before him and whisper her submission.

There was no chance of that, though. She would not survive long torn from the complex of wires, cords and biofeedback connections that allowed her to guide the ship. And he would not survive the mutiny or stranding that would come from pulling her down.

especially if it's cute and domestic and their both freaks

who will be the weird, sassy, confident medigo woman to my sweaty horse man