The room was dark--pitch black. For a moment the mechanic went still, wondering what, exactly, he was getting himself into. He stood still, listening--and heard voices. They weren’t screams of agony, or dying pleas, they were just voices. And having stood there long enough brought his attention to tiny lights on the floor--two lines of them, much like a pathway. So the mechanic started forward.

His boots seemed to echo on the wooden planks below him, and he wondered if whoever was inside knew he was coming. They probably did, he decided. But that was forgotten as he saw the flickering light ahead of them. The other him was shadowed by the lights of a massive screen playing a movie. He knew it was him, though, that mohawk was definitely something you couldn’t mistake.

This was it, the mechanic thought, pausing for a moment.

“If that’s you, Xiu, I’m gonna haveta kick y’out,” the other him called back cheerfully. “Nothin’ personal, but you know how it goes.”

“Xiu?” the mechanic asked blankly. The other him turned, looking at him blankly, a hand of strange looking popcorn in his hand.

“This... I didn’t expect,” Roch said finally. “Don’t usually dream of seein’ myself.”

“That’s cuz I ain’t you,” the mechanic said. “Can y’really kick someone out of your head?”

“Sure,” Roch said. “But I’ve always liked myself well enough,” he finished. “Siddown.” The light was flickering over them both, the rest of the room dark. It seemed a bit intimate--which was disturbing, but hell, the mechanic thought, they WERE in Roch’s head. “Tell me who you are. You a shape shifting dream walker? I’ve met two dreamwalkers so far--one shapeshifter, but I don’t figure Gene can invade dreams--“

“I’m not a--you know a lot of strange guys, huh?” the mechanic said, dropping down in the huge, lay-z-boy style chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He automatically took a handful of the popcorn stuff when offered, then made a face as he realized it was slimy. “What IS this?” he asked.

“Snotcorn. My best friend’s favorite food--one of them,” Roch said.

“Oh,” the mechanic said, hesitantly trying it. “It’s strange,” he said finally. But he ate it, regardless. “My name was... Roch,” he started out finally. “I didn’t know what it was short for--but I’m bettin’ you do.”

Roch hesitated. “Rochester,” he said finally. “It’s my full name. I hate it.”

“I can see why,” the mechanic drawled. “I’m a fragment. A tiny, little piece of you,” he went on. “I’m based on someone’s memory of you, not the real you. We were part of this... well, I was a mechanic on a space ship that got took down by space pirates--only problem was, I WAS a space pirate before I became the mechanic, y’know? And while we were grounded, we were supposed to kill off these other groups--there were seven of us in all. So--“ He muttered something dark. “Can I use that?” he finally asked, pointing at the screen.

“Uh... sure?” Roch said. He looked confused.

The mechanic stood, digging his PDA out of his pocket and typing on it for a moment. The image on the screen stopped, and changed. It was the view of the gallinium he had used on the ship. “There,” he said, pushing play. “This is where it started,” he told Roch, dropping down on the chair again and grabbing another handful of snotcorn.

“Mitsu!” Roch said, shocked as he saw a certain shapeshifter. “Is that a panda?”

“It’s a robot,” the mechanic said. “She took it with her everywhere--you know some of these guys?”

“Yeah--think I’ve seen that fox ghoul, too--there’s Zeph! And Marosa! Wait--“ Roch said as the other him started arguing with people. He watched silently as the mechanic had a face off with one of the ranking officers--

“Do you know her?” the mechanic asked. “I seriously hate that chick.”

“Dude, you were bein’ a d**k,” Roch pointed out bluntly. “But nope, never seen her before. Good chance she’s either not at the school or she’s new,” he said. “Or doesn’t even exist, hell if I know.”

“Wait, whut? We’re at a school?”

“Yeah, Amity. I’m a hob,” Roch said. “That means I’m about t’graduate, go t’work as a Trick or Treater, all those cool things--“

“So you’re above her if she’s here, right?” the mechanic said eagerly. “Could you kick her a**?”

Roch stared at him blankly. Roch ate a handful of snotcorn. “...You’re serious,” he said finally. “No, I ain’t gonna kick some snot’s a** just because she got in your face,” he said. “You needed a slap down--even if, and I’m probably biased here, I can get your point,” he admitted, reaching out and patting the mechanic on the shoulder. “Seriously biased,” he added honestly. “Massively, overwhelmingly biased,” he went on. “I mean, seriously, most guys would pick the naked chick--“

“I get your point, already,” the mechanic said, giving Roch a dirty look.

“But I’m obviously biased towards myself,” Roch finished. “Although you don’t got NEARLY as nice--“ he grunted as the mechanic punched him, laughing as he rubbed his shoulder.

“I see why I’m such a d**k, man,” the mechanic complained.

“Awww, somebody needs a hug!” Roch said, dragging the surly mechanic into a hug and patting him hard on the back. The mechanic grunted this time--his other self patted HARD.

“Giddoff, you moron,” the mechanic muttered, shoving at his other self. “The movie’s still goin’.”

Roch pulled back, turning to watch the next part. His silence was enough of a comment to the mechanic when the scene in the towers came up--and then when the mechanic had the flashback in vivid colors, he reached out, dropping a hand on his shoulder.

“I was a p***y,” the mechanic said quietly.

“You were... not FEAR,” Roch said. “There’s... a lot of stuff you don’t know, man. I can’t explain, it would take too long, but--it’s different for me.” He turned back to the screen, though, when the bike races started. The mechanic couldn’t help but look smug as he drove past the others in the memory, catching up with the robot--and then he got bombarded by the fox girl.

“Dude, you had hoverbikes!” Roch said excitedly. “That was awesome! But seriously, your crew SUCKED at riding,” he added. “Seriously sucked.”

And the movie went on like that. Roch would make comments--like this was a movie--and to him, it was. (“I DO NOT USE MY JACKIN’ GUITAR AS A CHICK MAGNET!” was bellowed in the middle of the stairs replay.) And the mechanic would argue with him, because it had been his life. Twice they almost broke into a fistfight. Then Roch jerked.

“s**t, I gotta wake up. What are you here for?” he asked bluntly.

“I want you t’remember my life--so I can go on like that. Let me live on--I don’t wanna be completely forgotten,” the mechanic said. “If I become a part of you--well, I ain’t completely gone, right?”

“Huh? Y’mean you’ll stick around here--“

“Not... exactly. Kinda like how your guitar is, I figure I’ll just be a part of you--just not one y’can summon out again,” the mechanic admitted.

“....” Roch looked at him. “Sure, why not?” He WAS him, in a way. They were alot alike. “How do we do that?”

“You wake up, I guess.”

Roch woke up.