Okay! So I've been trying to brainstorm this for awhile and haven't written a fic in who knows how long, and I don't really have any timeline for this in my head so forgive me if it's kinda deconstructive or you know like shitty overall. Blackfire's my favorite character from the TT universe and I wanted to see where I could go crossing her over into R&M. So here's a taster chapter I guess and let me know what ya think! ^_^ I don't own any characters in this story.
***
The young man gulped as he regarded the strange, rather frightening robotic structure before him. A cacophony of wires, panels, and glowing lights towered before him, attached to a base by a myriad of tubes and strange alien technology. He'd been warned not to go near it by his grandfather, that the entity inside could be deadly to not only him but the entire planet…but at the same time his own desire to do the right thing for a suffering intelligent being was too prominent to bear. This creature had suffered incarceration and artificially induced coma for so long…there was no telling how it would react, or what it would become…but the boy knew that he couldn't stand any more lies and for the good of his family as a whole this thing needed to be out. He pressed the switches on the panel on the bottom right shoulder of the futuristic encasing, barely hearing the hiss of the machinery pulling apart over the sound of his own heart beating fiercely in his ears. A foreboding, unnatural pink and bluish smoke began to curl and plume from the opening as the panel steadily pulled open, drawing an astonished gasp from the boy as he witnessed the figure inside.
This was it. No turning back now.
…(Two days ago)
"H-hey, uh…Rick?"
As usual, his meek assertion gained a pointed lack of response. 15-year-old Morty Smith shuffled his feet together in a characteristic display of anxiety, eyes focused on the worn in sneakers he'd been wearing on his feet every day for months. He knew from experience that approaching his eccentric genius grandfather while in the throes of scientific prowess that being a disturbance could lead to being yelled at, berated, or even worse invited into another mentally and physically brutalising escapade, but his curiosity was too strong. After over a year with no word his grandfather had returned from intergalactic prison two weeks ago, but instead of involving himself in the family, tormenting Jerry, or initiating any of the debaucherous adventures for which he had come to be known, he'd chosen to recline to the basement to work on a mysterious project that left him immersed and rarely seen. It was strange as well as dully alarming for a multitude of reasons, including that Morty still had no clue how he'd even come to safely escape prison. "Rick!" the slender figure before him finally ceased working for just a moment, and the adolescent seized his opportunity
"Rick…w-what's that thing you've been working on lately? I-I know you hate being bothered when you're busy and stuff b-b-but we haven't seen you around and I'm like, I dunno, kind of w-worried and –" the teen kept as reasonable distance but couldn't help craning a bit to see what the taller man was repairing, which appeared to be a very long human-sized metal pod with a helmet on top where the head would be. Morty had a somewhat terrifying feeling there was an alien creature inside. Knowing Rick, it was unlikely there wasn't.
Pulling away from his work and lifting the mask he'd been using to cover his face from the waves of heat emanating from the laser-like blowtorch he held in his hand, the scientist regarded his grandson with a long, exasperated sigh.
"L-listen, Morty." He began, pausing to take a hearty swig from his flask. "I just escaped from the most high security prison in the known *uuurp* universe. For one, I can and will do whatever the fuck I feel like." He gestured toward the foreign robotic pod beside him. "For two. This." He enunciated "is what was in the cell next to me. I-I-I'm doing this thing a tremendous favor by not leaving it to atrophy and rot in that shithole."
The boy waited a moment for his grandpa to continue, but when the man just put the mask back over his face and returned to what he was doing realized he had only gotten an answer that opened more questions. "W-what?! You mean that's a living thing?!"
"Barely, but pretty much."
"So you're trying to get it out of that machine?"
"Not a chance."
The teen was unsurprised and crestfallen, but driven by his own righteousness for the good of all and prevention of suffering to keep pressing. "T-then, like, w-what the hell, Rick? You kidnapped a cell mate to incarcerate them more?!"
The taller man sharply pulled his mask up again, swivelling on his chair away from the contraption and turning his lanky body to face his pesky legacy. "Morty. I'm not sure if the purpose of intergalactic prison is lost on you but the individuals in max security there aren't exactly innocent. T-this is a Tamaranean. They're an extremely powerful warrior race of alien and t-this crook in particular was enhanced by unknown machinery and could easily and probably would happily decimate you and your entire family. Or even the whole stupid planet." Seeing the aghast look on Morty's face, he continued. "They don't need to breathe, eat, or sleep, and can fly faster than the speed of light…plus like countless other abilities and shit. All this is supplemented by the species' natural absorption of ultraviolet rays. The prison sedated it by enclosing it in this pod, so I'm trying to tweak the design a bit so I can get it t-t-to power my ship and *uuuurp* shit like that. The hard part is letting it metabolize energy without it waking up and ultimately, y'know, dismembering me."\
Satisfied with his explanation, the scientist swiftly clapped his protective shield back over his face and resumed tweaking the cyborg-like portable cell before him, effectively cutting off potential for more conversation. With his free hand he continued to guzzle alcohol while keeping his back turned to his annoying grandson. The other male, contrastingly, took a step behind with a dismayed expression, turning to leave but throwing a suspicious glance at his predecessor over his shoulder as he stepped back upstairs from the garage. Although there were many instances undoubtedly where heeding Rick's advice had saved his skinny behind, Morty was no stranger to his granddad's tendencies to act like kind of a selfish manipulative dick. The man was a brilliant mind but not typically the most sympathetic to the value of the lives and intentions of others around him.
*
Such logic, exacerbated by the array of destructive and abrasive emotions accompanied by the hormones of his then oncoming 16th birthday, caused Morty to end the following few days' deliberation with a decision to ultimately free or at least discover what lay beneath the enigmatic mechanism downstairs. He spent hours preparing himself mentally and physically for a dialogue with an entity made up entirely of tentacles and fangs, or a deadly robot, or a poisonous gas. But he didn't expect at all what he found.
As the deactivation of the sedation chamber continued and the heedy smoke proceeded to clear, a humanoid form became visible through the mist. The teen was caught totally off guard by the figure of a beautiful woman, with rather catlike features and extremely glossy black hair that seemed to shine with violet highlight. Her arms, cuffed in silver gauntlets adorned in a black gem apiece, were crossed over her chest like a regal sarcophagus. A small black skirt and top covered her as well as metal plating over her collar and extremities, with long black boots reaching up to her unmoving thighs. Her skin, shown only on her face and fingers, was an offputting violet color but Morty quickly realized regaining a tanned color at an alarming rate, as if reviving from the dead. How could this be so dangerous? It was just a girl.
Her eyes snapped open, an entrancing deep indigo color for a moment, then began to glow alight with a vibrant violet fire, suddenly the brightest thing in the room. Her face contorted into rage, displaying unnaturally white, sharp teeth. Fuck.
In a second, he was lifted off the ground by his neck by this hostile creature, hardly having enough time to compute how to react to what he'd done. She glowered, hovering over the ground without any outward aid or explanation to how she propelled herself, eyes ablaze and countenance showing nothing but fury. The extraterrestrial began to speak, but what came to his ears was only an aggressive and incomprehensible foreign space-language. What the fuck did I get myself into?!
"A-ah wait miss, u-um miss alien p-please don't kill me I know you're probably really enraged and stuff b-but I was just trying to -
Before he could finish his words, the boy was possibly even more shocked than before to find not a crushing fist meeting his face but the lips of the terrifying but gorgeous dark-haired being before him. He found himself feeling not only paralyzingly afraid but betrayingly turned on by the sensation of her mouth pressing onto his, subduing him violently but gently. It seemed over way too soon, especially as he regained his head and realized death was probably what awaited next. Instead, astonishingly, she lowered them both to the ground, landing gracefully while allowing him unmercifully to drop out of her hand on the floor. Not wanting to embarrass himself further before this alluring and frightening woman, he scrambled to his feet, thankfully not needing to search long for what to say before she spoke again.
Her eyes extinguished to their nearly-humane amethystine color from earlier, unearthly prettiness of her catlike face exaggerated by a cocky and toothy grin. "Why, hello." She purred, extending a hand this time in a greeting rather than a threat. "It looks like I owe you my freedom, don't I, darlin? What's your name?"
Shaking but making every effort to preserve his masculinity by hiding it, Morty stood to his full height – still a fair bit shorter than her as she was exceptionally tall – and returned her handshake with what he hoped came across as bravery and not dweeby overeager enthusiasm. She might have just been on the verge of turning him into a crater, but there was something he found pretty appetizing about being owed a favor by someone so attractive and powerful. "I-I- I'm Morty. Morty Smith." The boy responded, clearing his throat mid-introduction so as to not waste any effect of his slightly deepened voice.
"Morty. Pleased to meet you. I'm Blackfire."
