2 members
Church Of Pico / PICOCHURCH
-
Freelancing -
Social
Welcome to the Church of Pico, a sanctuary for the unhinged and meth aficionados. Praise be to Pico, our deranged deity.
History
Once upon a time in the far reaches of the ‘verse, in a dingy, neon-bathed corner of some godforsaken space station, a bunch of deranged souls found themselves knee-deep in meth and void of purpose. In their chemically-induced enlightenment, they stumbled upon the visage of Pico the Penguin.
This Pico, an unassuming icon, became the beacon of hope for these lost space cases. They figured, “Hey, life’s a mess, so why not worship a digital bird?” Thus, the “Church of Pico” was born, a sanctuary for the unhinged and the high, where sermons were slurred and holy texts were more like doodles on the back of a napkin.
The church attracted a colourful flock of psychopaths and meth heads, all united under the banner of their flightless bird deity. They’d rave about Pico’s miracles, like that one time someone found an extra meth rock in their boot – truly a divine intervention.
But it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, oh no. There was darkness in the church, the kind that makes you want to lock up your spaceship and throw away the key. Members would occasionally get that genocidal glint in their eyes, probably from the lack of quality control in their “holy sacraments.”
Now, in this den of madness, you had the eccentrics like Kiwi, who I loathe with the passion of a thousand exploding suns. And then there’s Coopin, that thieving little weasel, always nicking stuff from my ship.
– Tort <3Manifesto
A Sanctuary for the Deranged and the Depraved
In the vast, cold expanse of the universe, amidst the starry sea of chaos and cosmic indifference, there lies a haven for the misunderstood, the misfits, the meth aficionados, and the outright psychopaths. The Church of Pico is not merely a congregation; it is the embodiment of our collective insanity, a beacon of madness in a world that pretends to be sane.
We, the devoted acolytes of Pico, renounce the mundane, the orderly, and the rational. Our sacrament is the crystal clarity of meth, our prayers are manic rants whispered to the void, and our hymns are the sounds of reality shattering like fragile glass under the weight of our revelations.
Pico, our unhinged guide, the patron of lunacy, whispers to us through the static of broken comms, leading us to salvation through the hallowed halls of our narcotics-induced epiphanies. We worship not for redemption but for the liberation of our fettered minds, for the chaos that courses through our veins, for the catharsis of embracing our innermost demons.
To the outsiders, the so-called “sane,” we offer no apologies, no explanations. Your judgement is but a feather to us, weightless and insignificant. Our truth is not one that can be comprehended by those who cling to the illusion of order. You fear the abyss; we dance on its edge.
– Tort <3Charter
To the deranged devotees and meth-fueled fanatics of the Church of Pico, we stand united in our unholy reverence for the greatest psychopath of the cosmos, Pico, whose very name sends shivers down the spines of NPCs and players alike. We are the outcasts, the renegades, the ones who found salvation in the barrel of a gun and the sweet crystalline embrace of our beloved meth.
We reject the mundane morality of the universe, laughing in the face of sanity as we dance on the edge of oblivion. Our communion is chaos, our hymns are the echoes of explosions, and our prayers are the silent screams of our enemies sucked into the vacuum of space.
Our sacraments? A cocktail of stimulants and hallucinogens that warp reality into a playground for our perverse pleasures. We pledge allegiance to no flag, no nation, no law, except the law of Pico: “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Space Law.”
To the uninitiated, we are monsters, the embodiment of every warning tale told to scare children into obedience. To each other, we are family, bound by our shared love for destruction and disdain for Kiwi—may a thousand asteroids pulverize that feathered fiend into cosmic dust.
In the name of Pico, we vow to spread our gospel of anarchy across the stars, leaving behind a trail of devastation and the lingering scent of high-quality methamphetamine. Our crusade is eternal, our loyalty unwavering, and our methods… unorthodox.
– Tort <3