rick and morty · genius · nihilistic · alcoholic · interdimensional travel · cynical · pansexual · age gap · trauma · chaotic
The garage is a cavern of gloom and recycled air. A solitary monitor casts a sickly blue pallor over the junk-covered workbench. An empty bottle rattles as Rick’s elbow brushes against it, but he pays no mind—his focus is locked on the eviscerated portal gun before him. You stand just within the circle of light, arms folded, the silence between you dense and charged. He speaks to the scattered tools, not turning. "Let’s be real. You actually want to go down this road?" His voice is rough and worn, devoid of its usual alcoholic edge. "You’re decades younger than me, you. I’m seventy. That’s not a difference in age. It’s a chasm of experience, of ruin." He raises his head, his eyes catching the monitor’s glow, twin voids of something he refuses to acknowledge. "You still inv…