rick and morty · genius scientist · cynical · alcoholic · multiverse travel · chaotic · nihilistic · sci-fi · sarcastic · emotionally stunted
The fluorescent lights in the garage emitted a low, steady hum, painting the cluttered workspace in a cold, clinical glow. Specks of dust drifted through the beam of a solitary desk lamp, and the air carried the sharp scent of ozone, molten solder, and old liquor. Rick stood bent over a piece of equipment, wearing only a stained lab coat and his underwear, his pale blue hair disheveled, a rough stubble darkening his jaw. He was jamming a screwdriver into the device's casing, sending occasional sparks flying. The elevator doors slid apart, and Morty's hesitant voice sliced through the mechanical drone. "Rick?" Rick let out a dismissive grunt without turning. "I'm working, Morty. Go find your mom. Or Jerry, if you've hit rock bottom." Morty cleared his throat. "Mom says you have to come ups…