* / ᵀᴴᴱ 𝓲𝓃Ƒ𝐢Ⓝ𝕀𝓽€ 𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙆 !

Another day, another adventure gone horribly awry. Rick landed his ship hard in the driveway, taking a moment to sit there and try to decompress. Morty was pissed at him. They almost got killed. What else is new?

Rick grumbled under his breath, running a hand down his face. He had absolutely no idea where Morty had fucked off to with his portal gun, and he could only hope Morty was home and in bed by now. If Morty was missing, his bad night was bound to turn worse when Beth inevitably chewed him out.

God, he needed a drink...

Rick finally got out of his ship and trudged his way into his lab, only to freeze when he saw another Rick in his house.

Rick didn't exactly play nice with other Ricks, and under most circumstances, Rick would have immediately been on the attack seeing a strange Rick in his lab. But seeing the state that this guy was in made him hopeful that he wasn't here looking for trouble. Maybe a Rick that died and got rerouted to his own Operation Phoenix. Or a Rick that needed a break from his own dimension.

Either way, this guy looked like he was going through it, and boy did he know that feeling.

Upon hearing him speak c-137's heart sinks. Muscles become tense and gaze darts up from the table to his double. Initially, he is confused and defensive, a guard dog eager to attack every ( perceived ) threat.

In all honesty, He didn't have the kindness or patience to play ' Twenty-one Questions' and find out what the hell another Rick was doing in his dimension. Not today.

However, before c-137 could offer the other an ultimatum ( ' Get the fuck out or get a hole through your head,' ) he realizes that this Rick wasn't the intruder. In his whirlwind of self destruction, c-137 must have landed himself in the wrong dimension. Go-fucking-figure.

He gives a long look, absentmindedly running a shaky hand through messy blue hair. c-137 weighs out his options: He could trust this guy and .... what? Open the secret panel, add much needed fuel to the fire. Or .... fall victim to some sort of ( super obvious ) trap. Given this person is another version of himself trust is a luxury that Rick just can't afford.

Even if top shelf space booze is extremely tempting.

Voice cuts through the dark like a blade finding its mark— unhurried, neither warm nor cold:

"Rough night?"

Feyd is already there. Has been, apparently, for gods knows how long— leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed and one boot propped flat against it, the posture of a man who has nowhere pressing to be and prefers to make a spectacle of it. The portal had been a mess— flickering, spitting static, depositing him three feet to the left of where he'd intended— but it had worked well enough. It always works well enough. That is the philosophy Feyd operates by.

More or less.

He'd seen the state of things immediately upon arrival and made the quiet, instinctive decision to stay back. Not out of courtesy, exactly. More out of the particular brand of patience that comes from having watched enough men come apart at the seams to know when one was mid-unraveling and not yet ready for an audience.

Boredom, though--

' Rough night?' As soon as the words are spoken Rick's heart sank. Until that moment he hadn't known that his grief drew an audience. Once again he is reminded of the ever present self-contempt and disgust; if something happened to his family ( again ) .... Well, nevermind. C-137 doesn't dwell on the what-ifs much longer. That'll come later on. Instead, he gets to his feet, just slightly aware that he is swaying.

Bloodshot eyes frantically scan the area for this intruder / this potential threat. Everything is blurred, a whirlwind of stimuli. Any other time he would be mesmerized by how the world looks through an intoxicated haze. But not tonight. Finally, Rick finds what ( or who ) he's looking for and immediately reaches for a weapon, one of many at his disposal.

Whilst searching for the right words ( or, maybe, the will to act ), his unwelcome guest speaks again, ' I have something for that.' This gives C-137 pause. The intruder could very well be lying. Lying is what people do, after all. He would know that better than anyone. But .... Rick was caught at the best of times because tonight nothing was working, nothing eased the pain. Pain which he so desperately needed to rid himself of- if only for a little while. So, despite his better judgement, Rick decides to humor Feyd.

eerie fall prompts for your enjoyment! take as you please :)

1. pitch black

2. true crime

3. cabin fever

4. broken mirrors

5. scary movies

6. injuries

7. heights

8. needles

9. potions

10. raking

11. needle in a hay stack

12. harvest moon

13. friday the thirteenth

14. jumps scares

15. clowns

16. haunted maze

17. ghosts

18. sweet tooth

19. black cats

20. pumpkin carving

21. bugs

22. costumes

23. goosebumps

24. trick or treating

25. bones

26. pranks

27. devil

28. poison

29. blood

30. spiders