Disclaimer: I don't own Rick and Morty.
I just noticed that no one can read my screenshot, so here it is:
This sounds like the basis for a superhero team:
- an un-dead lesbian hero who has the power of immortality.
- a gay hero who can copy themselves over and over and appear as a "token" in other people's lives, gathering important information.
- a bisexual hero impervious to pain who can invoke the powers of ice and fire by saying a certain incantation word.
- a trans hero who can warp spacetime and travel transdimensionallly in and out of our current universe.
- I see that the asexual's power of invisibility remain as strong as ever.
Remember I didn't come up with the idea and all credits go to whoever wrote it on tumblr.
Also here's what the team was based on:
Television: The dead lesbian, the token gay, the suffering bisexual, and the non-existent trans.
(#note: the suffering bisexual isn't allowed to use the word bisexual)
Here I hope you enjoy my cliche between the last life and the next life black void of existential crisis.
Also near the end, listen to Tokyo Ghoul's Unravel English ver., the rendition by Caleb Hyles. Start at the first AAAA.
Help me - Normal speech/thoguhts of Rick/Morty/Aliens
Help me - Cliche SI OC that has died before
Help me - Roy
I wake up somewhere completely, pitch black. I lift up my hands to look at it, but I could hardly see anything past them.
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\
I'd be more worried if I wasn't so strangely apathetic. It was a weirdly detached feeling.
I briefly wondered if I was trapped somewhere. If someone had kidnapped me, and I was now locked in someone's dark basement. Or if I was in a claustrophobic car trunk. I dismissed that thought though, because my fingers didn't brush against any cold and dank walls.
And now that I thought about it; I had woken up completely vertical. Actually my feet weren't even touching anything, and as absurd as the thought of flying was. Maybe I was?
/\/\\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
I got the feeling that I've been here for a long time, fading in and out. Time was nothing here. How long has it been? I would't even know. All I can do is wander.
Was I dead? Was this the after life? Is this what the afterlife was? Just floating? Here in the middle of nowhere.. Floating for eternity?
Where were the pearly gates? Or the fiery pits of hell? Just a change in scenery would be heaven in itself.
I was overwhelmed with the need to get away. I needed to, I needed to- But all I could do was say my name, over and over. I had to cling to the last vistages of my identity. I needed to be m-eeeeeeeeeeeee?-Mmmmmmm-~-/|\~-y?-
\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Who am I?
Who was I again? What was my name? And suddenly my name was that word at the tip of the tongue.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/
And then it came to me, I was in purgatory. Except.. Where was everyone else? Where were the endless lines? Even in this state of apathy, I wasn't sure how I would handle this kind of isolation for. Would I go insane before I could witness any sort of change in scenery? Maybe that was why my emotions were imprisoned, because even as I realized this I wasn't worried.
/\\/\\/\\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Or maybe this wasn't the afterlife. Maybe I was still very much alive, and I was already insane. Insane and locked up-
-w-h-e-r-e-I-be-l-o-n-g-Wh-e-re-d-o-I-b-e-l-o-n-g-?-?-?/\/\/\\\\\/\\\\\\/?-o?-?o\\\\Where-am-I?|||||||||/_-
/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Suddenly there was a bright light that blinded me. Although I said that I was blinded; it wasn't blinding in the conventional sense. Instinctively I knew that I was out of time, however relative it was here. That searing white light reached out to me. Called my name. It was but a temporary bliss. And suddenly I wasn't so apathetic anymore. I could feel again. I knew who I was. Then I knew that if I were to survive I needed to get away.
I needed to get away from here. I needed to retain my identity, and to do that..
I needed to get out, be away. Let me out! Yet at the same time I had this feeling... that I can never escape.
Everything- Everything was black. Pitch black. A dry mouth and an unnaturally thick tongue, my whole body felt something awful. Was I hungover?
But, no.. The last thing I can remember was a game over screen. Wait, no, that couldn't be right, because I haven't played video games in years...
The last thing I did- I was in the store, reaching for-
I open my eyes, and it's disorienting. The lighting is too bright, and I'm someplace entirely foreign.
"Whoa! What the hell!"
I have no idea how I got there. Just this vague sense of deja vu. If it could even be called that. A long forgotten memory, maybe. I can feel nothing but dread.
"W-w-where am I?" And even as the words leave my lips, I feel hollow inside. This sense of wrongness does nothing, but intensifies.
I know that it's redundant at this point, but I can't help but think again-
Where am I?
I look around, and I just don't know..
"What in the hell!?"
"55 years. Not bad, Morty."
Who?
"You kind of wasted your 30's, though, with that whole bird-watching phase."
Who's this dick?
Hoping to see that lovely, familiar face my eyes roam the room, but I don't see her-
"Where's my wife?"
"Morty, you were just playing a game."
A game?
"It's called "Roy"." My name... Was it all really just a game?
Everything?
"Snap out of it." That condescending tone. It was strangely grounding.
"Come on." And this annoying face, the more he looked at it.. It was... Strangely comforting and familial...
And then Vertigo-
"I'm Morty. You're Rick." As the second name left his lips; Morty felt a rush of certainty. He was Morty. I'm Morty.. It had all felt so real.. Oh, God. He was Morty.
My lips were moving, and answering for me. And thoughts that weren't mine were invading my mind! I've had dreams like this before.. Where I'm living another life.. But, no- This feeling of disconnect, but it was also like that strange moment of reality between sleep and waking. I truly wasn't the one in control of my own body.
Movement without reason-
IT WAS TERRIFYING!
And I needed to - WAKE UP!
"Hey! You sold a gun to a guy that kills people!" Rick could be such a uncaring, sociopathic dick sometimes.
"Look at this, you beat cancer and then went back to work back at the carpet store? Boo~"
"Don't dodge the issue Rick! Selling a gun to a hit man is the same as pulling the trigger!"
"It's also the same as doing nothing. If Krombopulos Michael wants someone dead, there's not a lot anybody can do to stop him. That's why he does it for a living? Now if you'll excuse me, it's time to thrash your Roy score." Rick's the reason for a lot of things in my life.
"You could stop this killing from happening, Rick! You know, y-you did a bad thing selling that gun, but you could undo it if you wanted!"
Sometimes Morty wasn't even sure why he even expended the effort to go against Rick. It never really made a difference, because Rick never listened to him. The universe might have been a crazy and chaotic place... But that didn't mean that he had to just take it, right?
I wasn't alone in my head-space. I could hear the thoughts of someone else, but for some reason they couldn't hear me. OH, MY GOD- I was alone.
It was like the dark place again, except ten times worse. Because I was moving, breathing, and none of it was my choice to make.
I was a prisoner of my own body. I was someone else's prisoner. The distinction didn't matter, because-
I was a prisoner of my own making.
"Uh-huh, yeah, that's the difference between you and me, Morty. I never go back to the carpet store." Rick's subtle dig at Morty dwelling too much on the past went right over his head.
Morty rubbed his fingers on the business card in his pocket, absent minded. Maybe he should take the matter into his own hands?
"Holy Shit! This guy's taking Roy off the grid!"
"This guy doesn't have a social security number for Roy!"
Looking at his grandfather, Morty felt the sudden urge to hug him, so he did.
"Uhh.. What are you doing, Morty?"
"I'm just hugging you, Rick, and I wanted to say.. Thanks for bringing me here today, its going to be fun. I don't even care about the assassin anymore."
Morty didn't say anything about the keys and portal gun that had suddenly found their way into his pockets.
"Sure, Morty. Okay. That's.. nice."
A lie came to his lips suddenly. "H-Hey, Rick. I'm going to the restroom. I'll be right back."
"Sure, Morty. Just don't loiter around any of the other games, though. You gotta see how I'm gonna wreck your score!"
Morty doesn't know why, but as he sits in the driver seat of the Ship - he doesn't immediately put it into drive. Without really thinking Morty starts rummaging in the back seat. He's sure he saw it here somewhere. Even as he pulls the Meseeks box out from its spot beneath the seat, he's still not sure why he's doing what it is he's about to do. He just has this feeling that Rick would somehow get in his way.
He brings life to three Mr. Meseeks with a touch of a button.
"I'm Mr. Meseeks! Look at me!"
"Look at Me! I'm Mr. Meseeks."
"Look at me.. I'm Mr. Meseeks!"
Morty didn't really think about it, but the words just came to him.
"Can you impersonate my voice, and trick Rick into thinking that I'm still there?"
"OOOOoooooOOOO!" The Meseeks coughed matching his voice, and his next words sounded just like Morty. "Sure can do!"
"And you, Mr. Meseeks, go get me Rick's portal gun."
"OOOooohhh.. Can do!"
"And Mr. Meseeks, make me a ton of cash quick! Enough to hire an assassin. By any legal means, get it back to me. And here you can get some Mr. Meseeks to help you."
"Ooooh. Can do, Morty!"
Morty went outside the space car, took out the scouting pack and the inter-dimensional goggles. When the second Meseeks came back with Rick's portal gun and poofed away; Morty preceded to set a convoluted plan in motion to get a second portal gun for himself.
"Neutrino Bomb Armed" - Ship
"Hey, Ship? Ship? It's Morty."
"Yes, Morty?"
"Uh- Um. Ship do you know how to get here?" Morty pointed to the dot on the business card. He kind of felt foolish asking the Ship.
"There's always the autopilot, Morty. Just put the card on the dash."
"On a second, maybe, I'll just do it manually." Morty pressed the Meseeks box button again.
"Look at me! I'm Mr. Meseeks!"
"Okay. M-Mr. Meseeks, can you drive me to where Krombopulos Michael is? Without killing anyone?" Morty wasn't sure why he added that last bit, but he just wanted to add that distinction.
Mr. Meseeks took the offered card with enthusiasm, and with a, "Oooohh. Can do!" Mr. Meseeks took the wheel.
Feeling trepidation and empty, Morty, was faced with a long trip ahead with nothing to occupy himself, but with his own thoughts.
He didn't like the direction his thoughts sometimes took him. He couldn't even begin to call it a dark place. Ever since his grandfather, Rick, came into his life; he's had to compartmentalize that part of his life away - into a vault in the back of his mind. All neat-like and shoved into a box labeled Rick.
He couldn't even begin to call it a dark place, because it was a box that had never saw the light of day in the first place.
There used to be a time where the adventures with Rick was an escape. From the mediocrity that was his life. There used to be a time when watching T.V with his sister and grandpa would be enough. But recently, it was Morty himself that would come and open up the box. Not to put something away, but to open it and look inside. He would look at his demons, and they would escape their box into the other parts of his life.
And before he realized it, his life, had become Pandora's box, but when he looks there's isn't any hope left inside.
The bump of entering the atmosphere of a new planet jarred Morty awake. That and the wind that blew something into his face. Mr. Meseeks, the pilot, had rolled down the windows for some reason, and when Morty looked up he saw the reason why.
Hanging onto the outside of a much larger space car was a bunch of Mr. Meseeks making it rain cash. In sync with their throws was the Mr. Meseeks right next to Morty, piloting the space car just so, catching all of the alien currency that fell.
Morty couldn't believe his eyes. It felt like he was in a movie. It was all so surreal.
The space car soon filled with money, and Morty saw the Mr. Meseeks park their space car and still waving poof out of existence. All that money couldn't have been made by legal means filled his mind. Morty was still looking at the spot they parked the vehicle filled with Morty's money when they crashed into a wall.
"Oh, boy! Here I go killing again!"
This was just another night of killing. In and out. Easy peazy, lemon squeezey. Kill the almost unkillable target, and done.
What greeted me after I turned a corner, however, was something unprecedented. There was a spaceship, blocking the way to my target, that had crashed into the wall. Right into the side of a highly guarded Galactic Federation outpost.
Well, my cover's been blown. No quick getaway for Krombopulos Michael tonight!
K-Michael realized right away that the spaceship was Rick's, seeing that it was his grandson that came stumbling out of it. Mumbling some non-sense about being all out of off-white Persians. Crazy like his grandpa, I see!
Too bad he didn't share his grandfather's hatred and avoidance of the Galactic Federation. Oh, boy! He was gonna die early.
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A/N: Do you think I should make the Smith family the Sanchez family? Like Jerry took Beth's name?
What about Beth going by Anne? As in Bethany? What about Morty? Should he be Moriarty and not Mortimer? What about the Morty from the super hero au that this Morty will replace after he dies? Summer?
I'm asking because I might bring this from my fic Continuity, but then I was like nah.
Comments? Reviews?
What do you think if you were trapped for an intermediate amount of time without any sort of stimulation, outside nor emotional? Then suddenly trapped in someone else's body? Forced to experience what they experience? Forced to think someone else's thoughts? Yet not able to communicate your own? It's a mind-fuck that's what it is.
The psyche essentially collapsed on itself, yet at the same time is trying to contain at least some form of it's identity and memories.
I decided half way through my fic Continuity that I wanted to go in a different direction. Don't worry guys you don't need to read that fic to not be lost in this one. I'm changing up a lot of the first and second chapter, and pretty much the whole premise. But there's going to be quite a bit of copying and pasting, and editing. The main difference here is that Morty isn't suicidal, at least not thinking about it seriously. I'm going out here and stating that this is going to turn into an OC self insert as Morty. Oh, and in later chapters its going to take place in an alternate universe that has super heroes and super villains. That's my new premise. Morty is going to make his debut as a super hero. This has now become one of those Super web fictions. It's going to be super cliche. You want to see what the team dynamics are going to be like? Look at the fic picture. It's a screen shot from tumblr. When I saw it I laughed for like five minutes.
The people coming over from Continuity might want to skim through at least the first and second chapter, changed up a few sections.