me x pico from cool war

Mr. found in a back alley

Pico Wilson was stumbling through a dirty, rusty back alley, coming down from whatever he had been doing earlier. He found someone, cold and shivering. "Who're you?" "Dion. You?" The other person seemed thin, bony like he was, with how his clothing washed over him. He assumed the other person was a dude, although the voice made him unsure. There was a thick smell of sweat and dirt, and he was unsure who the smell was coming off of. But the smell of whiskey and some sugary drink was definitely the other person. "Pico, although some places I'm the snipper. Snip. Snip. Snip." Pico sat down, on the cold alley ground, as Dion laughed at the short catchphrase. "It suits you. You seem quite the snappy one. What brings you to the alley anyway? People don't usually come here unless it's for pity or... services. Personally, I'm here because it's the time of day I give those services." Pico did not want to ask what Dion meant. "Well, anything could bring me here, couldn't it? I could be wanting either of those things, or maybe I want a little conversation." Dion blankly stared at the scissors around Pico's neck, hung from a necklace. They were very obviously not safety scissors. "What's with the scissors? You could hurt yourself." Pico scrunched his nose, pointing at the scissors. "These? They're not for that. It's my brand." Dion nodded, taking out a piece of fabric that had obviously seen a lot of use, rubbing it with his thumb and forefinger.

"I know it's dumb of me to ask, but can I maybe stay with you? You seem nice. You haven't yelled at me yet either." Pico's eyes widened, and he got up. "You wanna stay with me?" "Yeah, as you can see I don't have a decent place to stay, well I have a place to stay, it's just not remotely near decent. As long as you're not overly sarcastic, an asshole, or someone horrifically unsavory, I'm game." Dion gave a weak smile. "Alright, come on." Pico started walking away from the alley, Dion following. Eventually, the pair reached a small cabin in the woods. "Not bad!" "One thing though: No alcohol. It doesn't go well with my meds and I don't want to be too tempted." Dion nodded, taking a bottle of whiskey, 2 bottles of lemon vodka, half a bottle of Jägermeister, and many, many tiny liquor bottles. Pico looked confused, but then again, questions shouldn't be asked it seems. "Come on inside. There's no heater but there's a shitty generator and heating fan." Dion nodded, going inside and putting his ratty robe on a stand. Pico could see a few things, through a ratty t shirt. One, Dions' entire left side was made of exposed metal. Two, that was very clearly mekhanite augmentations. Three, it looked like someone had tried, quite recently, to tear them out, in a way Dion could never have done himself. Again, no questions. "It's ok if I brought soda, right? I'm a huge mountain dew fan, you can have some if you want." Pico nodded, and Dion took out a few mountain dew cans. "They recently released major melon, and I'm not a huge fan, but this is what I could save." Pico hadn't noticed before, but there was a backpack Dion had brought with him.

"Hey, I know it's weird to ask, but were you homeless?" Dion looked up. "No, not technically. It's a long story, but let's just say a family religion dispute goes a long way. Technically, I'm not supposed to be here. But I don't care, because I do whatever I want, especially when that thing I want keeps me alive. Enough about me and my lore, how about you?" As Dion cracked open a can of sickly sweet soda, Pico did a dry swallow. "You don't have to unload your guts here. Just, a bit you might wanna say or whatever. Sorry, I don't shut up." Dion gave a tin-can sort of laugh, the sort of belly laugh someone gives when making fun of themself. Pico gave him a glare. "Ahem. Sorry." There was an awkward silence for a while. Pico scratched the back of his neck. "I made art for a while." "What kind?" "Well, it wasn't really art, it was a bunch of corpses that blew up that I put in an art gallery to scare some little shits." "Awesome. Fuckin' poggers." Pico looked away, an unsure look on his face as he grabbed a can of the soda and guzzled it down. "Maybe." Dion overlooked the subtle expressions Pico made. Could anyone be more dense? Still, he was loveable in a way. "Anyway, do you want to hear all about the genome of the apple? The apple genome has approximately 57,000 genes, more than any plant ever studied at the time it was first studied, and you can have so many different types of apples, and the genome responsible for making apples red is called redTE, and..." Dion went on about apples for longer than was prudent, and Pico sat there, wondering how he could have ever invited this nuisance into his life.

Meanwhile, Dion was distracted by 2 things: trying to make his new roommate think he is smart, and making sure he will not be killed. Well, not be killed by Pico, anyway. For all Dion knew, Pico wanted the normal shit people wanted from him. If Pico can't handle Dion at his exposition of the apple genome, then Pico doesn't deserve him at his introspection as to how each individual person is a miracle. Eventually, a beeping alarm from his hand went off. 8:00. Time to rest, supposedly. Dion nodded at Pico, finishing up his rant before grabbing his coat and falling asleep on the floor. Surely Pico was more trustable than the people he lived with before?

Dion woke up, timeskip courtesy of the fact we're still in his point of view. He looks at his hands, one still /disgustingly/ organic, the other so /pristinely/ mechanical. His particular sect had let him merge with Z, which is what he had named his gaming computer. He looked over to Pico, who was in his bed, arm over the side. Dion carefully put Pico's arm back, but when he did- "HEY!" Pico flinched and yelled. Dion, in turn, also flinched "I'msorryI'msorryI'm-" "Oh, it's just you." Pico sighed, and went back to bed. Dion was now awake, and alone. Time to get onto M-WNET. It was a new network of mekhanites, for those who believed in a fusion of the main 3 mekhanite churches. Dion closed his eyes, logging in with his username and password. There was a moment between logging in, but it had subsided. His avatar materialized in the virtual reality environment, an android. He walked to the temple with purpose, kneeling down before his disruption. "Hey, Dion." He looked up to see his long-time church friend, Rosie. "Hey, Rosie." "Looking for holy guidance?" "You know how I am. Pray every day, despite overindulging..." "Did you finally get out of that house, by the way? It wasn't good for you." "Yeah, I did. I might be living in a cabin in the woods with a stranger, though." Rosie laughed. Her avatar was that of a pink anthropomorphic glittering cat, like something you would see on myspace with a glitter filter. "Better than having your parents trying to knife your augments out, though. Good for you." Dion nodded. "Yeah, they were saying stuff about the borg or something. The person I'm living with saw my augments and didn't seem to mind." Rosie grinned and cackled. "Niiiice. Once you're done with your prayers, we're going to have a sermon soon. You wanna come with?" "No thanks. My journey of the M-KHANE-W-N is my own." Dion then got up, and his avatar fizzled into the coding that was known as M-Wnet.