#[[ Rick vc: I'm not dealing with this shit -bails without a proper answer- ]]

[countlessrealities]

@moonglittering sent: Virote was half-dressed and busy inspecting the slight, slight bruising on the inner part of his bottom lip when Rick decided to wake up. ❝Welcome back to the land of the living,❞ he said, now putting on his jewelry. ❝There's some juice on the nightstand and a powerberry bar you can take back home if you want. You must've had a real shit night with the way you came in here.❞

Waking up hungover was a feeling Rick was intimately familiar with. It might not happen as often as it had used to, but it was still common enough for him to expect it out of habit. So, the times when he didn't, it was always a pleasant surprise.

Useless to say, that morning was very much not one of those lucky occasions.

The first thing the scientist did when his consciousness started to resurface was groaning in discomfort. His head was pounding as if someone had been using it as a drum while he slept and his mouth was dry as a desert. Not to mention the tense ache in his limbs for having passed out in an odd position and the disgusting tasted that coated his tongue, a mixture of acid and something nauseatingly sweet.

Then there was the fact that he didn't know where he was and had no recollection of how he had gotten there. The mattress underneath him was far too big and comfortable to belong to his cot and the room was far too bright. His first guess would have been that he had hooked up with some random fancy weirdo, but him being fully dressed ruled out that possibility.

Damn. Just how much had he drunk the night before? It had been a while since he had had a full blackout. Even if considering what had happed the day before, because he still remembered that, it wasn't too surprising.

Still, knowing why he had gotten wasted didn't answer all the questions he had. Before he could further speculate, however, the answer reached him without warning, in the form of the last voice he would have expected to hear.

What the fuck. Was that...? Why was he in Prince Moonshine's bedroom, of all places?! What. The. Fuck.

His mind whirled for a few moments, as he tried to recall what had possessed him to pick Virote's palace for his drunken stunts, but he quickly gave up when he found just a dark hole in his memory. Alright, time for a change of strategy.

With a grunt, Rick pushed himself off the expensive mattress, bumping in the nightstand as he stood up on unsteady legs, causing some of the juice that had been left for him to spill on the smooth wooden surface.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath as the room spun all around him. His hands clumsily patted the pockets of his coat and he relaxed a little when his fingers closed around the handle of his portal gun.

Ignoring everything Virote had said, he pulled the device out, pointing it towards the floor. Time to bail and forget this ever happened.

He spared the quickest look at the younger man, to make sure that the night before he hadn't done something as idiotic as punching him in the face, and, once he had made sure that there was no visible bruise, he shot a portal at his feet.

"B-Be fuckin' grateful that I-I didn't throw up on your fancy bed," was all he said, before he hopped in the green vortex and vanished in an entirely different dimension.