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darkgunslinger · 4 years

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Saving Zim Extras/shorts

These are scenes from Saving Zim by Dib07 that didn’t make the final cut. There are many more scenes like these that I left out, but these are some of the ones I did not show in the FFN story due to them being scrappy bits and pieces - but still, I hope they can be enjoyed for what they are XD

The current series can be found here!

Scene: the professor’s garden

The professor was in his main study, overlooking datasheets on his chemical production. On his desk was a small swilling vessel of bright pink emulsions beside two computers and a blood analyser machine. Things were always making noises in here as machines and computers cranked and clonked out results. It was music to the professor’s ears.

“Hi, urm... Mr. Membrane?”

He looked round, and appeared to be smiling behind his neck collar. “Yes, what is it my girl?” He saw that she was holding his little patient.

“Are the outside doors locked?”

“Go through the back way, it’s all open. Why?”

“I’m taking the little guy outside while it’s warm and sunny. He’s been a bit... despondent.”

“It could be the medication he’s on.”

“Some days he’s really chatty and coherent. Then there are days where he’s like this.”

The professor paused, perhaps conflicted with what to suggest. “Just don’t have him outside too long! There is no insulation in his body to help keep him warm.”

She already knew, but nodded anyway. “And just where is Dib?”

“Still hard at work preparing for the little house guest! Here. Call him.” He whisked out his own personal Samsung Mega Xtreme 36 phone.

Thanking the professor, she sat on one of the plastic seats in the hallway outside his door and called his home number. Zim was looking lazily around, preferring to stay cuddled against her.

She waited through the dial tones. He answered on the fourth ring. “It’s just me, Dib! When are you getting back?”

“Oh, hi Clara! Getting back?” There was a pause. She could hear music in the background. “An hour or two tops. I still have these little step ladders to put up. I can’t remember where I put the drill.”

“Can you come over?”

“Why? Is everything okay?”

“Zim’s not quite himself.”

Zim, hearing most of her side of the conversation, rolled his little pink orbs skyward in exasperation.

She disconnected the call. She lowered it from her ear, and then looked down at the Irken resting against her chest. She gave him a little cuddle. “He said to tell you that he’s on his way.”

He nodded.

After giving back the phone to the professor, she headed for the double doors. They were made from heavy oak, and were used as flood shutters in case of stormy weather. She stepped out into the open sunshine. They were inundated with bright, cheery birdsong, and amongst the uncut waves of deep green grass were early April butterflies that glanced along the stems like aerial dancers.

Zim’s remaining antenna became attentive to these outdoor noises.

“It’s beautiful out here. Didn’t realize it was so warm.” Clara mused. She didn’t follow the stone path. Instead she headed across the grass in just her plimsolls. There was the wooded area, and the rockery. Midges were flying in the air in roaming clouds. She was careful to keep the flies off him.

“Isn’t it...dangerous o-out here? Won’t someone s-see m-me?” She felt him tremble.

“No, don’t worry! This place is closed off; it’s all private, see? And no one’s getting over the brick walls that surround this place. It’s secure.”

She wondered how much he was caring to see, or if he was just looking at it all with closed indifference. Sometimes it was hard if not imposable to read what was going on behind his eyes.

They reached a stone bench that had green lichen growing along its lion-like feet. She lifted him from her lap and perched him on it. He could lean back if he wanted, thanks to the wooden backrest. He sat there a moment, looking startled as if he’d been teleported to a different world. Then he looked around, seeing the diaphanous butterflies and the fat, lazy bumble bees that hovered over a patch of tangled jasmine. The sunshine made him look paler, giving him a haunted look.

“This is nice!” She said, leaning back beside him, watching his reactions carefully. “You forget how dark it is inside buildings until you go out into the sunshine.”

They shared a serene sort of silence. Clara started to wish she’d brought a book with her, something to take his worried mind off things. Zim was looking around and was picking up on everything. This fresh air was the best he’d had all month. Always he seemed to stoop and shrivel beneath the weight of his own shadow, so it was good to see him sit up a little more and become alert to things he’d usually ignore. But. He was still frightened of pain. She could see it on his face.

A butterfly circled them, gliding on a lofty warm breeze. But when a bluebottle landed on Zim’s shoulder, she grew angry, and flicked it off him. He smelt of medicine, antiseptic and fresh linen, but beneath it all there was still the cloying smell of illness.

The moment of serenity seemed to leave him most suddenly, as if a cold wind had blown into his soul. He looked down, and his right antenna stopped picking up the slightest feather-sound of butterflies.

“Zim? Hey? Are you cold? Should I bring you back inside?” But she knew the depression would follow him there too.

He said nothing; just stared at the grass below his dangling little boots.

She knew to watch him for any signs of a seizure. The Irken hadn’t shown any such signs, not to her, and she hoped never to witness it. If they always started with a nosebleed, it gave them forewarning before he went down.

“Dib’s on his way I promise.” He was always the cure to Zim’s gloom. He’d bring a deck of cards, and they’d play games on the bed. “Hey,” she began, hatching an idea, “how about we collect flowers? Whoever gathers the most, wins!” It was so lame really, anybody would see straight through her attempts, but Zim’s unfocused gaze began to clear.

She got off the bench, and he slid down, following with more caution in his step. The tall grass was a little bit difficult for him to navigate, his right antenna bobbing with every step. When it looked like he would fall she scooped his hand in hers and kept him balanced. But there was more determination in his step than there had been in the lab. Out here there were no bars for him to look upon: no reminders that he was in a cage. The gloom of it had filled his eyes: the cage was now inside.

But out here his eyes seemed to drink in the light. The blue of Earth’s sky was something he appreciated. No longer was he slouching with a dismal frown crowning his sadness.

Slipping out of her hand, he limped to a thick glen of grass where he had a choice of flowers. He gave them a brief look of intensity, his militarism always shining through. Then he stooped and picked out a daisy. He seemed unusually hesitant to pluck it from its long stem. Dib often said that Zim was a destroyer, and cared not for what he smashed and ruined.

His claws snapped the stem, and he lifted it up, gazing at its white petals.

“That’s a daisy.” She told him. “Many people see them as weeds, but I’ve always liked daises. I used to make a chain out of them for a necklace when I was little.”

He baulked, as if he found the idea ridiculous, and stared at the daisy as if he could see where the Velcro was hiding. She laughed, hoping he wouldn’t take offence. He did cock his head at her, and look dismayed, as if he was trying to suss mockery, but then he gave her a relaxed, happier look. “Don’t you have a better use for your t-time?” He asked.

“I can make one for you.”

He looked back at the flower, suddenly crestfallen.

She didn’t want him to think that he had lost a part of himself just because he’d lost parts of the machine on his back.

Don’t let the PAK define you, Zim. You define the PAK, not the other way around.

His raucous coughing cut short the moment, and dark fright was in his eyes again.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” She rubbed his shoulder, giving him time and reassurance. He was frightened of pain and how it made him feel.

He kept hold of the daisy, passing it to her, as if silently asking her to make something out of it.

Clara stooped and plucked a red tulip. When Zim reached for a big purple thing bristling in barbs, she gently pushed his hand away. “That’s a thistle, honey. Leave it be.”

“Why are these things so different?”

“Well, they are different types, for different purposes.”

And that’s when he found it. It was growing in shadow and under the ivy clasping the rightwing of the building. It was as beautiful as he. He crouched low, looking at it in something that might have been wonder.

It was a rose so dark that it looked like it had been stained in blood. He went to touch it, hold it maybe, or pull it up, and he suddenly shied back, jabbing his claw into his mouth. A green droplet of blood hung from one of its thorns.

“That’s a rose, Zim.”

“A r-rose?” He asked, looking up at her. He took his claw out of his mouth and inspected the prick.

“They’re beautiful, but they have thorns.”

“W-Why?”

“To protect themselves. Not all flowers are defenceless.”

He looked for more roses but there was only the one. It stood, as if defiant: alone, but vibrant even as it existed in shadow. It looked parts fragile, its delicate petals all blood-red silk, but its thorns could not be mistaken.

Zim sat back, admiring it. She thought he might try and snap it from the stem in the ground, but he did not. Clara watched, thinking he was so like a rose, slender and graceful, but prickly beneath.

“It grows from dirt.” He summarised, as if this was what confused him.

“It does. All things grow from it.”

“So how can this thing be so...?”

“Beautiful?”

He grunted.

She pushed his boundaries again by squeezing a comforting hand on his birdlike shoulder. He gave that childish look of trust. One day she hoped he’d look at her in the same way he looked at Dib.

“The Earth can grow and nurture beautiful and delicate things that are found nowhere else in the universe.”

He pouted, finding her claim hard to believe when he’d seen that universe, however partial. But he could not deny her either. In all his travels, he had never found something as beautiful as a rose.

He went to reach for it, and drew away again.

Dib had explained to her that he had meant to hand this planet over to his leaders. Failure meant execution or exile. It helped to explain the weight he seemed to carry.

She could see it on his face that he was struggling to accept the beauty in front of him, but he was seeing it.

“But they grow f-from dirt.” He insisted. “How do they do that? What’s in the dirt? What’s so special about it?”

“Earth’s soil is fertile, and it has all the minerals in it that plants need to grow.” She supposed that even if she took the trouble of drawing him up a chart with diagrams to help explain it, he still wouldn’t get it.

His mouth set stubbornly, wanting to understand, yet disbelieving how anything could be that simple.

He had a childish wonder, but also an insistent need to understand and uncomplicate things, even when things were perfectly okay to let wonders be.

He stood up, and precariously wobbled a moment before he chose to leave the rose perfectly where it was. He went back to picking other flowers, and always so daintily did he take from the stem in strange reluctance.

Soon he had a little bouquet of many different things; a clump of jasmine, a dandelion, buttercups, lavender, bluebells and tulips. He was attracted to all things colourful, and the unkempt garden was quite full of these treasures, but it was the deadly rose he liked most of all.

A little while later he sat warming himself in a patch of sunshine on her lap with his eyes closed as she worked at lacing daises together. He had been attracted by the magic of watching her weave daises at first, but he’d soon grown tired.

With half a daisy chain complete, she soon heard someone calling. The Irken’s antenna jerked and then rose higher, his eyes cracking open.

“Hey you two!” Dib’s boyish and cheery voice called to them across the grounds.

Zim looked round immediately, and sunshine filled his eyes. “Dib!” He called back in his broken voice.

“Been looking all over for you guys!” He returned, shaking his head as he plodded across the grass, hands in his pockets. “Dad said you were mooching out in the garden.”

“We’ve been enjoying the sunshine.” Clara said with a smile.

Dib noticed their collection of flowers, and the tidy string of daises his fiancée was making. “What have you two been doing?”

“Picking flowers.” Zim piped up.

The human sat next to him. “The space boy has been picking flowers?”

“Hey, don’t tease him.” Clara defended in all seriousness. “We’ve been enjoying it.”

Dib chuckled and rubbed the little guy’s shoulder. “Uh huh. And how’s my favourite alien today? Not got the blues, I hope?”

“I’m green.” Zim said in stupid innocence.

Clara said as she joined the last daisy. “Here you are. A daisy chain of your own!”

She lowered the white ring of daises around his neck. He straightened a tad and touched them with a claw. “Thank you!” He said. “Gir made daisy chains. But I... I never....”

“Maybe you should have made him a crown, Clara.” Dib joked to dispel Zim’s moroseness, “It might have suited him better.”

They walked back to the building. Zim looked over Dib’s shoulder and watched as the rose grew smaller and smaller until it became a speck of red under dark pools of shadow.

Scene: Zim’s second night with his humans at home

Surviving this unfamiliar dystopia exhausted him.

He pushed the door open, expecting to see that silly bathtub for dolls filled to the brim, and found it hard to hide the dismay opening on his countenance when he saw her sitting, waiting there by a basin of hot bubbly water. Stacked close by were soft fluffy towels, and placed by her knees was one of those water-proof mats that was large enough for him to lay on. She was dipping her hand into the bubbly water, testing its temperature.

Clara looked over at him, her eyes impossible to read. She smiled, trying as she was to appear reassuring, and he hoped the expression was as genuine as her intentions.

“Whenever you’re ready Zim, you can take off your robe.”

But he wasn’t ready.

He stood rooted like a statue as he held the opening of the purple robe tightly to his chest. He felt the cool of his nakedness under there, and the uninviting chill beyond the cocooning fabric. Why couldn’t she just leave him be?

“Zim?” Her question made his right antenna ring. “Are you okay?”

He shook his head, hardly believing he was suffering human help and kindness he was still so afraid to trust in. He’d believed that if he kept moving, if he kept going forwards, he’d be unstoppable. Now he could not move for fear of pain.

He clung on to whatever he could when defeat had him sink to the deepest depths. Looking back, even slightly, filled him with horror, but a glimpse that way also revealed what he had overcome.

Clara maintained her smile despite his stony silences. “It’s okay, Zim. I won’t bite.”

Zim peered over at the bubbly water in the bowl. He’d suffered their sponge-baths over the weeks, and not once did the water sting or burn him. The sight of it however still filled him with the instinctive distrust of it: being on Earth had stamped many fears and uncertainties into his heart, and he was not familiar with what was safe and what wasn’t without the sanctions of his computer.

“Here. Let me.” Clara walked over, knelt down by his indisposed form and slipped off the long and soft purple robe. His eyes took on a frightened, miserable cast, as if being naked opened up new ways of being disgraceful. It didn’t matter how many times he was stripped and then clothed again; whenever he was bare before them, self-loathing and shame crowded the colour in his eyes.

He tried to hide himself behind skinny arms and skinny claws.

Hands touched his shoulders. He tensed, emitting a squeaky growl.

Her gentleness was unreal. Every time she touched him, his defences rose to the rafters, expecting something malignant beneath her contact. Life was hard edges, mistrusts, hate and pain. Without Membrane’s protection, he was adamant that Clara would change from her superficial gentleness into something else.

She guided him over to the water-proof mat. “Sit on the mat, honey, and relax.”

He gave her that sharp, assertive look, and she knelt beside him, waiting, showing infallible patience. Her smile was fading at the edges, her eyes more confused than anything.

“Leave m-me.” Please. “I d-don’t n-need y-your h-help.”

“Being stubborn isn’t going to help you, Zim. And just because you’ve left the lab doesn’t automatically mean you’re out of the woods. You are still convalescing. Now, are you going to argue, or are you going to sit down?”

His eyes shifted to the mat, and back to her.

Fighting her, he could see, was going to get him nowhere.

Stiffly, he sat down, making sure to keep his bony legs over his crotch area.

“After we get you clean and snuggled up, I’ll make you some soup. How does that sound?” He nervously watched as she dunked the sponge into the bubbly water. She lifted it up and he instinctively tensed, eyes screwing shut, fists clamped. “You carry so much tension in your shoulders.” He felt her knead the sponge into his back under the PAK’s mantle. He’d expected the water to be tepid, but the sudden heat of it was a wonderful surprise. Then she worked the sponge into and around his neck. The moan came out before he could stop it in time.

This is really... really nice...

There was little use resisting the flexes of his right antenna. As a cat communicated joy through its ears or tail, he did the same thing with his antenna.

Her eyes were looking him over as she cleaned him, checking for any new bruises or marks that would indicate bedsores or signs of self-harm.

Though he was not answering, she chatted away with the same attention and care. “Is there anything you want to work on first? Or what you’ll want to build?”

“Se-security.” He choked.

“You don’t need to tackle everything at once. You’ll still get it all done, Zim. Just enjoy the day as well.”

He began to lean a little more into the sponge-massages, eyes lowering from the soporific heat. The sponge-baths were usually brisk and quick affairs so that they didn’t exact too much energy from him and so that he didn’t get too cold.

She threw a towel over his shoulders and proceeded to massage him dry.

Zim had to secretly admit that they were providing a damn good service even if their help was still making him tense with shame, but for a moment he allowed himself the comfort.

She was careful with him as he was mostly all bone, with little to no insulation protecting his organs.

Clara had fresh nightwear ready just an arm length away. He woodenly replied, stretching out each arm as best he could, and felt the fluffy soft material cloak his littleness. He knew he would sweat through this too, and he sighed.

“There. That’ll soothe those shivers away.”

How did she never find this strange? Perhaps in the lab there had been a sense of displacement, of surrealism when you had a fantastical scientist hurrying about with his fanatical machines and caring for an exotic otherworldly creature, but here, in an ordinary house, she acted as though she was looking after someone she had known for a long time. He tried to see past her affections, her warmth to spy the truth. But he could never find anything other than her sincerity.

“You wanna go for some homemade soup?”

They were always propelling food his way. “Not r-really hungry.”

“That’s okay, just manage what you can.” She picked up the basin and sluiced the used water down the big human-sized bathtub’s plughole. Seeing that as his cue, he woozily climbed to his feet. The floor tilted just a little before righting itself again, but the fleck of dizzying colours took longer to leave his vision.

She noticed. She came over, knelt down and wrapped an arm around him. “Do you feel okay, honey?”

The question was so very simple, and yet it entailed too much.

Zim only leaned into her, tired and dizzy. His lower legs were shaky. He had been dependent on his self-sufficient self-healing PAK - and he had never needed to give pause and regard his injuries – only to ever see them as novel and irrelevant inconveniences.

Living in this mortal hell without this reliability made him that much more careful and that much more timid. Every little bit of pain was much more terrifying and much more intimate.

They told him that he’d get stronger, with time. He didn’t believe them.

“Let me take you to bed, Zim. It’s no trouble.” Her arms went around him. He fetched a set of claws into the fabric of her cardigan to hold on when she spooned him into her arms. Her hold was secure, and there was never a moment where he felt she might drop him, but for insecurity’s sake he held on anyway.

She carried him back into his softly lit bedroom. The nightlight was painting the ceiling with dappling colour. When she set him down on the bed, she immediately bundled up his legs and torso, and shored up the pillows so that he could lean against them. He had long stopped stiffening or shrinking away whenever she went near or touched his PAK.

“I’m going to heat up your supper. You snuggle down and rest.”

“Cl-Clara h-human?” His choke was filled with what sounded like water.

“Yes, honey?”

“Can I h-have something to d-drink?”

“Of course. Do you have anything in mind?”

He shook his head.

“That’s okay, I’ll get you something.”

His wrinkled fuchsia eyes were drawn to her with a heavy intensity.

“Zim. Everything will be okay. Just remember that we’re here to support you, and protect you. This isn’t a limited affair. This is for life.” She reached out, and stroked his cheek. His fear cooled: sliding away like shadows after the lights had been turned on.

When she left, he sat, cupping the blanket to his chest. He sipped in breath, gladdened when there was no wall of pain. Lying down all night made the coughing worse and he had scrunched up, hacking and spluttering until he was coughing up blood. Now he was breathing easy – and the scary event seemed far, far away.

He waited for her to return, looking for her company. Being alone wasn’t quite as welcoming as it used to be, so he tried to hide the smile when she returned with a little tray of food.

“Just manage what you can, honey.” She set the food on the bed tray after positioning it over his lap. Though hardly hungry, his spooch grumbled.

He reached for the cup of honeyed milk, and he slurped it down, his thirst seemingly increasing with every gulp. Before he had scarcely begun, she was prying the cup out of his little claws. “Not so fast, Zim! You can have some more in a little while. Wait for that to go down first.”

“Who d-do you t-think y-you a-are?” He rasped.

She frowned at him, as if she had hoped their relationship wouldn’t backtrack like this, and that she might be spared his anger. “The voice of reason. Be my guest if you want to vomit down your nice new clothes and bed sheets.”

A dangerous glitter intensified in his eyes as he looked up at her, stupefied by her sudden sharpness. She didn’t back down. His right antenna bobbed up and down, and the querulous fire in his eyes dissipated. “You su-sure are bossy.”

“Well, someone’s got to look after you. We both know you’re terrible at it.” She said with more kindness. “You can bark at me all you like, but I’ve got a job to do, and nothing you say or do will stop me from doing it.”

That made him cock his head slightly, expression softening.

“Now try some soup. It isn’t all that bad.”

“D-don’t stand there – w-watching me.” He grunted.

She couldn’t help but shake her head, smiling at his stubbornness. “All right, all right. Just don’t forget to use your napkin.”

He gave her a long look to make sure she was leaving him in peace before he lifted up a spoon and dipped it into the soup.

Scene: getting some private time

“Zim, stop messing with the power! For five minutes!” He leant back in his desk chair, waiting for any affirmation, but it would be a miracle if the Irken had even heard. Blowing out breath, he returned to the computer and continued typing up a few measly sentences for his loosely constructed CV. He had poured over the keyboard most of the day, lost for words, and distracted by noises from a construction of a different sort. They had given up trying to stop the former soldier from ‘improving’ the house, learning quickly that there could be nothing that would stop an Irken’s wilfulness.

Clara was waiting upstairs. ‘Just a few more minutes’ he had said to her.

Dib stared at what he had painstakingly written. The skills and experience he could list all day; it was the passion that was so hard to put into words.

Just as he was about to save his work, the power died, the house fell into darkness, and so did his computer screen. “Zim!”

The power came on within seconds, the house bursting back into life. Muttering and cursing, he found Zim connecting the fuse box down in the basement with a handheld construct of his own, mostly alien in design, but made with a lot of used parts he had cobbled together.

He needed two seconds of the Irken not-getting-into-trouble or throwing the house into some sort of mode while he spent time with Clara. The lost work on his CV would have to be forgotten.

“This primitive homestead of yours is inefficient in every way.” Zim was saying before Dib had got a word in. “It’ll be months before I can get this place in working order. You just let things fall apart around you, don’t you Dib stink?” One eyelid curled down, his look sly.

Dib ran a hand across his face before sobering up and putting on his best smile. “Look, urm... there’s this really good cartoon on. You gotta see it!”

Zim hardly looked interested. “Recess can wait.”

“But it’s a special episode!”

“Then record it!”

“But...” He was running out of options. Fast. “I have no one to watch it with. Clara’s just not interested...”

Zim looked once at his handheld circuit board before reluctantly setting it down, “Very well, human, if my presence is that desperately required.”

“Good!” He put his hands on Zim’s skinny shoulders and practically steered him all the way to the lounge, the squeak coming from the heels of the Irken’s loafers dragging along the floor.

Switching on the TV, he flicked through the channels, hoping that there would be something to save him. Zim sat on the sofa using the stepping stool. “It had better be a short episode of whatever this... thing is. Work doesn’t get done by itself you know.”

“Ah here it is!” Dib said sheepishly, turning to give him a weak smile. It was a cartoon of a blue hedgehog. “Trust me! You’ll enjoy it. It gets really good!”

“It had better.”

With no time wasted, Dib flew up the stairs.

Clara sat up in bed, looking frustrated. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry! Urm, work, and Irkens.”

Before long the bed was squeaking against the wall. Zim came up less than ten minutes later, and Dib and Clara had to disengage in a tangle of limbs while he looked in on them from the doorway, holding the Gir doll. “W-What are you doing?” He croakily chirped from the doorway, eyes impossibly wide. “You’re b-both so...sweaty and noisy!”

Scene: Holograms

He left the kitchen, but returned minutes later with his laptop and electronic tablet. With the kitchen curtains drawn to dim the light, he had a number of devices laid out on the table, and when Clara came in to join them, she was impressed to see a hologram pouring out of the computer screen.

In his element, Zim drew up more schematics as easily as laying down paper and more holograms appeared. It was reflected in Dib’s glasses as he studied the projections. Clara could make neither heads nor tails of it as she stood watching them. The holograms showed vast columns of numbers, and everything that was written were in strange symbols, like runes. And accompanying these alien hieroglyphs were diagrams of a machine.

Even Dib wasn’t sitting pretty on the same page. Zim was aloof in his plans and his approaches, and even had an ingrained habit of keeping Clara and Dib at a distance as if he still had trouble trusting them. Zim had done things by himself all his life, and sharing that control wasn’t an easy thing for him.

The alien scarcely looked their way. Strips of code glowed in his bright fuchsia eyes. It was good to have him focused on something. Though he always worked there was a certain distraction in his efforts and in his focus. Now he sat with his back straight, his shoulders firm and his chin raised as he sought key coding in the stratum of alien mumbo-jumbo.

Dib forced the panic from his voice. “Is this for recreational fun, or is it for something else?”

Zim registered the English word ‘fun’ even if he did not know exactly what it meant. That word went into the same ambiguous category of words he struggled to understand the meanings to; such as sex, happiness, human humour and babies.

Dib went under the scrutiny of another long cold look.

“Earth needs protecting...” The aged Elite paused, finding the answer hard to dig up and reveal as if he had crushed it down there, inside, for so long that it was now hard to find and hard to pull it out. “Membrane will take measures to protect this dirt ball by following my instructions.”

Dib kept staring. “Did I just hear you right?”

“Oh s-shut up and stop with your g-gloating!” He snapped, rubbing at the side of his head, both eyes wincing as if working with his protégé was a real headache. After a moment he raised his stylus and drew dots and lines on a hologram that painted them in pink. Clara couldn’t stop staring as Zim drew magical lines into a magical screen. He did not seem to mind his audience, perhaps because he was expecting them to not understand a single thing he was doing.

Zim flicked a hand, and the screen’s current information and jungle of symbols was replaced by weapon blueprints. They stood tall and leaned slightly forwards like masts. “Earth is a backwater planet full of toxicity. It’s hardly worth much, but it’s still up for conquest, as is this pithy little solar system it’s in. The Earth’s sun would make a great source of fuel. It’s how energy cores are made. My Tallest may take an interest.”

When he next looked to Dib and Clara, there was relief in his eyes.

For so long he had never belonged anywhere.

Zim looked again to the hologram. He flicked his wrist, and the jumble of symbols magically metamorphed into English. “Your Membrane will build these anti-ship turrets once I provide him with the design. Their range will blanket the planet and that of your horrible star, keeping you filthy critters safe.”

Dib stood there, taking it in. He hadn’t thought of the Armada paying a visit someday. It was unlikely, but it had obviously been on Zim’s mind.

Since when had this snarling alien pulled his talents, energy and recourses into DEFENDING something?

The Irken smiled. “Wouldn’t it be funny if all they ever did was blow asteroids to little itty bitty bits? The planet’s measly existence would continue to persist until that awful sun of yours finally implodes. Humans. Thriving for evermore. Now that disgusts me.”

Dib was about to speak; to begin verbalizing his shock and disbelief when Zim again flicked his wrist and the screen swapped out weapon blueprints for the ship’s coding. He pressed some infinitesimal transparent button on this transparent screen and a 3D image of Tak’s ship popped into existence. Dib’s heart fell heavy and it fell hard.

Zim’s plans were never that humanly plain. He was clever, and he also liked to keep his real thoughts and real plans close to his chest. He never usually did something unless he reaped the benefits, and he was a sneaky little guy. Not that Dib suspected him of doing anything underhanded with the ship.

Zim. You can’t fly. What do you intend to do?

Just nod and smile at him. Creative outlet and all that, yes dad I remember. This had better not bite me in the ass.

Using a stylus, Zim reached up, and traced a line around the front of the vessel.

“Ooh, that’s pretty. What does that do?” Clara pointed at something that almost looked like a metal flower of alien grotesquery. It spun slowly in the hologram, looking like some hellish rose. It was probably the main core engine, with all its tapering pipes and elements.

Zim, bathed in pink from the screens, gave her an amused, beady look, and quite happily and croakily bragged about core drives, their compounds, auxiliary turbines, a feln guard, plasma charging cells, a hubbard, and so on. Clara looked bewildered in under three seconds of his wistful explaining.

There was no mistaking the fact that this little bastard loved attention. If he so much as looked at Clara the right way, she’d pick him up and cuddle him.

“Hang on a second. What’s this thing back here?” Dib pointed at the hologram of the fuselage. “We could move that, and expand the cockpit.”

“That shouldn’t go there.” Zim’s voice was dusky and small. His hooded eyes could barely stay open but he always led the debate. If anything, Dib was the one trying to keep up with him.

“Why not?” Dib leaned back slightly. He wasn’t a complete novice when it came to repairing and redesigning machines. Irken technology was a huge leap in science and brains, but he was more or less knowledgeable on the parts, and where the power had to go. Yes, connecting it all, and hoping they’d be no leaks would be a bitch. Working with plasma would be a lot different than say, oil or fossil fuels. Zim knew how to make more plasma, and he apparently knew how to recharge the cells in the ship too. Usually a ship worked for centuries with just a power core, but Tak’s power core was too badly damaged to be used. And a damaged core was a dangerous core.

“The ship will explode, that’s why.”

“Zim. I know how to build a ship.”

“No you don’t! You don’t know anything about anything!”

Clara disappeared to make some iced tea for them, and when she returned with a tray loaded with drinks she said, “Don’t forget that Gaz is coming later.”

The very name made Zim’s antenna drop.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know him. Their paths had interwoven with Dib at the centre. She was just like any other enemy he’d had to contend with, except that she could outwit him in one breath, and leave him and his ship battered and smoking. He’d done everything to avoid her since he’d put Dib in a hospital bed – of which he’d done quite a few times. Maybe she’d be okay with his – state – and situation. Or maybe she’d barrel past Dib and Clara and hang him on the wall.

“Let’s not.” Zim said openly, carefully watching their reactions.

“She’s family, Zim. She’s got to come.” Dib patted him on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine.”

He had decided there and then that he would retreat to his room, barricade the door, and fashion a weapon from bits and pieces if he had to.

#just scrappy bits and stuff #invaderzim #saving zim #dib07 #lost scenes #there is more of this rubbish #Epilogue moments

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thechillsquid · 4 years

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I adore when people respond to my random ass questions, y'all a bunch of genius, ya know that? So thank you for putting up with them and giving your own opinion and conclusions cause it's fun and intriguing!

Anyhow, Imma go on another spiel.

Alright, so with Irk, how ya think the Irkens have influenced it? And not only do I mean with the flora and fauna being eradicated (or so it is believed, but is it ever actually explicitly said that they wiped out everything from before Irk was terraformed into the mechanical thing it is today? Like I wonder if there are indeed animals or plants that theyve kept around due to benefits they can offer to the empire, or at least with plants, y'know? But since we never really got to see much else or Irk, it was never brought up? Like what if there use to be sugary flowers with nectars so sweet only Irkens can handle it? What if a genetically altered version is still grown for the sugary treats Irkens adore? Because those ingredients got to cone from something and often in the cases of sugars you got to get that from something natural? Though then again, maybe it's artificial, but I mean, real sugar just has that kick, you know? Also what about animals that have salvia toxic to other creatures but Irkens have immunity to? What about animals that Irkens collect silk or wool from for their uniforms? What if there are farms and such tended by civilian like Irken on other planets? What ifffff?) I wonder how Irk's atmosphere has changed? Did there use to be weather patterns but the development of the planet ceased such and Irkens merely stopped caring about such phenomena? Is Irk colder or warmer than it used to be? What is the atmosphere even made of? How was it before? Do Irkens even need oxygen? Do they really have lungs in the same sense or maybe they have a skin like that of amphibians that takes in what they need and maybe that's why the skin is sensitive to pollutants and such? Does an Irken need any vitamin or mineral to stay strong or does the pak do it all? How could radioactive crud affect them? Would it affect them? Or would it just like annihilate them? Do you think Irk has an atmosphere that would be toxic to humans and the reasons Irkens are so adaptable to different athomspheres is because theirs is so toxic? Or maybe their pak just helps to sort out what they take in with regards to the athmophsere? And maybe because Irk toxicity is through the air that it doesn't affect them like water does because that's a more direct source of pollutants? What do you think the gravity is like? Are Irkens used to more heavy or lower gravity? How may different levels of gravity affect them? Also why is Irk pink, or at the very least, why do you think? Iron perhaps or something else? Theres cloud cover, but what is it made of? Zim didn't seem familar with rain so it's safe to assume it doesn't rain there or is at the very least rare, or maybe it does rain and Zim just didnt notice because he could care less? I wonder if it snows on Irk or something similar? Cause why would there be clouds if there's at least not cycle? Or maybe it's purely from the mechanical planet itself producing those 'clouds'? Also, anyone know if there are confirmed other Irken colonies of different planets?

I wonder if there's Irken farmers out there? I kinda want to see an Irken farmer.

#Irkens #Invader Zim #iz #Irken #Zim #Speculative thinking #Irken farmers?#Flora and fauna of Irk?#Irk #pak

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messinwitheddie · 7 months

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Since Red died, did Purple keep any of his belongings? Wore any of his cloths or armor?

What was he like at the funeral? Did any other Irken feel his pain or was Purple the only one mourning?

Yeet "Oooh... The Tallest really isn't fond of answering questions about late Red's death. I'll answer any questions as best I can.

"My tallest mourned late Red longer and harder than I have ever seen any drone mourn another drone. They knew each other since smeethood. They were linked in spirit, not just in their title. I think it was brave and sweet how openly Tallest Purple grieved, but he worries the empire might see his grief as a weakness.

Tallest funerals are never recorded or broadcasted on live stream. I remember watching the news segment announcing Late Red's passing. Tallest Purple looked like a shell of himself when he addressed the empire. His wardrobe staff told me he was inconsolable at Red's funeral. He could barely keep it together long enough to carry Red into the Colossus's right hand and read his rites before lighting his body aflame. They told me his grieving screams echoed clear across no drone's land... Poor tallest Purple.

Usually when a tallest passes the empire goes into lockdown until a tallest is measured. There is a period of recognition and manditory honorable mourning by the empire, but because late Red and Tallest Purple ruled as one unit, there was no lock down. Purple just took over the full title and us shorter drones were instructed to carry on as normal.

I think that really distressed Purple that the empire didn't seem to mourn his loss as he did. I'm sure SOMEONE besides Tallest Purple must have been devastated when late Red passed.

To be fair, my generation have only been alive long enough to salute late Red and Tallest Purple. Most of the empire is still nostalgic about late Miyuki, which is understandable. She's a hero of mine too. Late Red didn't rule long enough for the general public to be deeply invested in his passing. He's convinced no one will mourn him when he passes. I, personally, imprinted on Purple as a smeet, so I take comfort in knowing he's still with us. I would be devastated if we lost Purple, even if he doesn't believe me.

Purple wore his funerary robes for YEARS after Red's passing. He was still wearing his white robes and vail when he hired me as his coordinator. He snapped out of that eventually, but went through a fase where EVERYONE on the massive had to wear late Red's shade of red. I was even instructed to wear contacts to alter my eye color for his first century jubilee. Luckily he moved past that too.

Late Red's formal robes are on display at the Tallests' memorial museum on the massive, but Tallest Purple has kept all of late Red's other robes in his chambers. He kept nearly all of late Red's possessions, including the puppets he crafted, his old battle ballad choir helmet from his cadet days and even the bag from the last box of donuts he ate.

I made another silk doll of Red in formal robes for Tallest Purple. He talks to it regularly. It's a little strange, but whatever brings him confort.

Threw in some old posts on the subject. Again, couldn't find the exact post I was thinking of In reference to this ask ^^; This reminds me; I never really touched on the side plot, but frylady Soo-Garr was actually in love with tallest Red; which was her biggest motivation to try to become the next frylord of the Massive's grand mess hall.

I REALLY wish I knew how to find my tumblr archive. I forget half the crap I come up with. ><

#invader zim #18-years-later #au #tallest purple #irken #ocs #asks #might be a few days before I'm able to answer any more questions

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krizaland · 5 years

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Defying Gravity Chapter 2

First Chapter

Hey guys! I finally managed to churn out the second chapter! This fic is dedicated to the anon who sent the request that started it all! Enjoy!

Zim slid to the ground as sobs racked his body. This was it. His new mission was to serve and protect you and he had failed.

“Y/N...I’m so sorry....I have failed you.” Zim’s voice was cold as tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Need me to make some more nachos?” GIR asked sympathetically.

“Neyah?” Minimoose squeaked as they snuggled up to Zim.

Suddenly Zim’s PAK sparked again.

“Zim, you’re not a failure! You’re literally one of the strongest people I know! I don’t care what your leaders think! You’ll always be my favorite Invader!”

Your words echoed in Zim’s mind, causing another surge of rebellion to rampage through his veins.

“No!”

Zim jumped to his feet and dried his tears.

“The tallest may have my human but that doesn’t mean I’ve failed! I refuse to return to my cheesy cocoon of misery! I WILL SAVE Y/N IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO!” Zim roared as he threw his hands into the air.

Meanwhile, you were beamed aboard The Massive.

You rubbed your eyes and blinked as your body adjusted to The Massive’s climate.

When your vision cleared you let out a yelp! You were not only face to face with Zim’s leaders but they were way bigger than you expected them to be! They practically towered over you as they leaned down to get a better look at you.

Both Tallest’s PAKs sparked again.

You were even more attractive in person! The way the bright lights of The Massive kissed your skin made it look like you were glowing! Despite the fear on your face, your E/C eyes seemed to twinkle with stardust.

Needless to say, you were waay more attractive than any of the other humans Zim had shown them.

“They’re so pretty! Can we keep them?!” Purple squealed as he clasped his hands.

“We’re not going to keep them, I am going to keep them.” Red insisted as he gestured to himself.

“What?! Why do you get to keep the pretty human?!” Purple whined as he put his hands on his hips.

“Because I’m responsible enough to take care of them. You couldn’t even take care of a pet rock.” Red mused smugly.

“It’s not my fault Nebby ran away!” Purple pouted as he folded his arms.

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. Fear had tied your tongue in knots. All you could do was let out a whimper and hold back your tears.

Red turned his attention back to you. His face fell a bit when he noticed that you were on the verge of tears.

“Fear not, human! We mean you no harm! You have just been selected to participate in a very special program.” Red lied as he struggled to think of a way to calm you down.

“Man, you’re pretty!” Purple sighed as he tried to push past Red.

Red pushed Purple aside and promptly blocked your view of him.

“Anyway, you have been chosen because you are the perfect candidate for becoming the royal…um pet!”” Red chuckled nervously as he clasped his hands together.

“What?! A pet?!” You were flabbergasted by such a degrading title.

“Yes! It is the um…Highest honor in The Irken Empire ever.” Purple lied as he shoved past Red.

Your fear of the Tallest aside, the mere thought of being their pet made you want to vomit. You didn’t want to be anyone’s pet! You didn’t care if the Tallest were royalty or not! You weren’t some puppy or kitten! You were a strong independent individual! The nerve of these jerks!

Zim would never treat you like an animal! Zim treated you with the love and respect you deserved! Oh how you wished he was here right now! A few tears begun to trickle down your face as you were painfully reminded of why you were here in the first place.

“I’m honored...” You sniffled as you wiped away your tears.

Before Purple could say another word, Red shoved past him again, this time it was hard enough to knock Purple flat on his rear.

Purple growled as he stood back up and tried to push Red. The two Tallest were about to throw hands when..

“My Taaallest! Perhaps you could let the human decide who they would rather serve?” One of the pilots piped up as the rest watched the show.

“Seize that guy and throw him out the airlock!” Purple commanded as he pointed to the pilot who spoke up.

The pilot screamed as two guards rushed in and threw him out the airlock.

“Wait! What if we let the human deicide who they’d rather spend time with-I mean serve?!” Red suggested as he pointed to the sky.

“Ok fine! But I know the human is going to choose me!” Purple pouted as he folded his arms.

Red growled at Purple before turning to face you.

“You’ll have to excuse him. Anyway, perhaps you should come with me so I can...um tell you more about your role!” Red urged as he gestured for you to follow him.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! You are not going anywhere looking like that!” Purple huffed as he gestured to your outfit.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” You asked as you looked down at your outfit.

“It’s boring! You need something better! Servants! Bring me my designing tablet!” Purple demanded as he clapped his hands.

Within a few minutes a servant ran in with a large alien tablet.

“That’ll be all!” Purple sneered as he snatched the tablet out of the servant’s hands.

“Seriously?! Is this really necessary?!” Red snapped as he put his hands on his hips.

“No pet of mine is going to walk around looking boring!” Purple poured as he scribbled away on his tablet.

“There!” Purple put the tablet’s stylus into a small slot on top of the tablet.

He then proceeded to place the tablet into a nearby vacuum tube.

SHOOMP!

The tablet was sucked up the tube.

Suddenly a much larger tube dropped from the ceiling and landed right on top of you!

“Their clothes aren’t even that ba-” Red began before the sound of the tube whirring cut him off.

FSHHHH!

With a bright flash, the tube lifted to reveal you looking absolutely regal!

You were adorned in a gorgeous F/C floor length silk robe with golden accents, a golden crown encrusted with sparkling jewels, and the Royal Irken insignia painted on the center of your forehead.

Red’s PAK sparked as his jaw hit the floor. You looked stunning!

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Purple did a wonderful job cleaning you up.

“You look perfect!” Purple squealed as his PAK sparked.

“Thank you very much!” You spluttered as you looked down at your fancy clothes.

You had to admit, for an evil alien warlord, Purple sure had a good fashion sense.

“See? I told you they’d pick me!” Purple giggled as he gave Red a smug grin.

“They didn’t pick you. They were just thanking you.” Red huffed as he made his way over to you.

You felt your stomach churn. You were so surprised by your fancy clothes that you had forgotten that the Tallest wanted to keep you as a pet!

“Now that you’re properly dressed, you can come with me to my private chambers for your debriefing.” Red insisted as he gestured for you to follow him.

You simply nodded and followed Red to his chambers.

Purple pouted and folded his arms. He knew he had to think of a way to win you over and fast!

#invader zim #invader zim x reader #invader zim tallest #invader zim red #invader zim purple #defying gravity invader zim

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thunderclaw100 · 1 month

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Favorite color: Hot pink.

Personalities: Calm,mindful,smart,outgoing.

Cause of Death: Sickness.

Back when everything used to be more primitive and simple. Lapis was born with very few siblings. He had mostly sisters and two brothers. Lapis didn’t hit his growth spurt until the start of his military training. He wasn’t all excited about going into battle or trying to climb ranks over the other irkens. He just wanted the military training and to grasp the skills given to him. The field he’s going for is more on the scout patrol. Seeking out new territories for his hive, but ran into trouble from a rival one, who used him to send a message to his citizens. If they wish to bot have their home become another gravesite, they’ll hand over all valuable belongings over to them.

Lapis refused this and said he will report them to the grand elders for such a threat. The elders are of one group of council members. They are the overseers of all of irk. All concerns go back to them and are settled accordingly to their laws. Lapis have only just finished his basic training and took notice that his height has increased again. At first it worried him. He’s only ever seen tallers of great importance. A commoner like him would just be seen as deformity in some way.

Lapis’s other siblings are off on their own after their training. Picking up jobs to serve their society. Lapis continued to be a scout patroller. His team of shorter irkens, accompanied him. Lapis made a mistake after he crossed enemy line and alarmed them. He and his core got out of there in one piece but after word got out what happened. There came a border skirmish between his hive and their neighbors. It lead to many deaths and injuries. Two of Lapis’s brothers are one of the fallen and he took this loss deeply.

The battle only ended after the enemy hive got what they wanted. Food,equipment supplies, weaponry, and most of their women. Lapis reported this to the elders in the capital of irk, but even after explaining everything. Those old geezers refused to retaliate. Lapis could not stand to leave the future of irk up to these guys, so he took it upon himself to help his people survive. Remembering how his parents did it, Lapis made his own wardrobe from scratch. His father being a blacksmith and his mother a silk threader. He took these skills he learned from them to boost the defenses and safety of his hive. He went out to scout again but for more resources that they’ve lost.

Lapis made it a point to not let his people go through that attack again. For someone who did not like to be the center of attention, is not taking charge as a leader. He became the first tallest in irk’s history. The members of his hive are mostly shorter drones. Only a handful are taller drones. Lapis command them and they followed him through the next battle. He made sure they were ready this time and prepared an ambush on the other hive. Sworming them but never attacking in the same spot. So many died that day but Lapis didn’t just win the battle. He won the respect and loyalty of both his hive and the other hive’s citizens.

“As a show of this new strength, Lapis and his soldiers, marched into the elder council’s office and force them to step down as the overseers. Which they did AFTER Lapis made an example out of one of the members by having him thrown out the office window. Once they’ve all agreed and decided to just retire into the city, Lapis took over. People stared addressing him as “My tallest.” He approves of this and has carried on his leadership for a few centuries. The only concern he has is what will happen once he’s gone? Who will lead his hive? Lapis decided to find his successor.

Many irkens raised their hands in hope they will be chosen but he turned them down and stated that the position had to be done by a taller. Lapis looked towards one male, who looked tall enough, so he chose him. Keeping him close and have him pay attention to the things around him and to do what is best for their hive. Lapis spends most of his time training him. Before his death, Lapis made it a rule that regardless of rank. There should always be the next tallest. It’s up to the people to decide though.

#Invader Zim #Fanart #Irken #OC #Tallest Lapis

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narlowemcfarlowe · 1 year

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"So, how does it look?" "Well, anything's better than those worn out rags."

"Fair, fair. How does it fit?"

"It's comfortable; the fabric on this tunic is very soft. What was it made from?"

"The tunic and sash are made purely out of irken silk! Most ladies down here don't like dealing with their silking cycles, so you're lucky to get your hands on it. I've grown a bit of a hobby for costume design... you definitely made a great model for me to work with. The inner two-piece is made from caklag-grass fibers, unlike silk there's a lot of that around here. It grows unfathomably fast so it's lucrative business if you know how to derive the fibers out of it."

"Interesting. From what little I remember from my early life, Irk's surface is entirely concrete and metal, it's nice to see some organic scenery..."

credits to @messinwitheddie for their Invader Zim AU, as this one is heavily based off of their's. (Again, I apologise for constantly tagging you. I just want to make sure you get your credit)

#invader zim #au of an au #dialogue snippet #oc #rough sketch #literally found a gibberish generator on my phone to think of a plant name for the grass lol #forgot to give her thumbs oof

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lucent-noir · 5 years

Note

Hey..you got any advice for picking out the right ribbon? Nothing too special but-I just wanna try and feel nice-Lucyri

Picking out a ribbon? Well first it should depend on the other colors of your outfit, you’d want them to compliment each other which means no hot pink ribbons with no other pink accents in other places or..Irk forbid…other neons.

Silk ribbons never hurt an irken, it might be too fancy for some tastes yes but It will make you feel quite elegant if you are going for that.

A solid choice that would make you feel nice would probably be a light cream or a dark black, there’s no going wrong with those choices. Though, if you’re up for some color most pastels go well with any outfit and any earthy tones do too. In the end it’s all up to personal choice with colors, so I’d say do what will fit you best.

One warning though, never wear a neon green ribbon, ever.

#invader zim #invader zim ask blog #Lucent #Lucyri #.ask #art #invader zim oc

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monsoonceroom · 3 years

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Some Irkens

So I’ve been meaning to post something like these for a while. I came across @messinwitheddie’s Invader Zim au I think back in late 2019 or early 2020. Since then these little guys have been invading my sketchbooks which resulted in a few oc’s.

The first pic is The Weaver who is an Irken goddess who created the universe from her own silk. She gave Irk the sun using 1 gold eye, the moon w/her large silver eye, & stars using her smaller eyes, so she was usually depicted by early Irkens as only having 1 eye. (Her eyes grew back though).

The Irkens in the middle are some of The Weaver’s smeets who are known as The Unravelers. They’re essentially tiny death gods & tricksters since they’re notorious for stealing snacks from under frylord’s noses. The Weaver’s swarm have many mutations that are no longer part of modern Irken biology, such as multiple eyes, setae hair, & pincers. You’d be hard pressed to find a smeet w/out any of those traits.

Finally, the last 3 are The Wardrobe Trio; from left to right there’s Hemm, Twill, & Millin. Hemm is the oldest of the bunch at over 850 yrs old. She’s actually one of the two of her generation to continue serving the empire as most of her former coworkers have either passed or retired. Next is Twill who is in her prime at roughly 220 yrs & is expected to take over Hemm’s positions as Head Tailor once the latter passes. She takes great pride in her work & is brimming w/confidence. Most who have met her think she’s stuck up which may be a little true, but they can’t deny that she does fantastic work. Then last but not least is Millin. Millin is fresh from the smeetery & is still learning the ropes from her two superiors. She was handpicked by Twill after noticing her clothes were different from the other young adults. It turned out that she often made &/or mended her own clothing due to taller smeets stealing or tearing her clothes. While she has no complaints about being part of the Tallest’s personal fleet, she’s very much worried that she’ll be replaced & re-encoded despite Twill’s pep talks that she fully intends to bring out her potential.

The Wardrobe Trio are the tallest’s personal tailors & are in charge of making & maintaining the tallest’s clothing from everyday wear to ceremonial garb. They also oversee the process of making clothing for the rest of the empire as well. While they themselves don’t make clothing for the common drone, they make sure the materials are durable & comfortable & that the designs are practical w/no room for any fashion faux pas.

#invader zim #invader zim oc #OC #The Weaver #The Unravelers #The Wardrobe Trio #Hemm #Twill #Millin

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snappedsky · 5 years

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Fanatics Adventures in Space Part 13

Devi and Tenna refuse to sit around while Dib and Gaz meet an interesting character. Previous! Next!

War Part Six

The Resisty ship comes to a quick stop as it approaches Irk, staying well out of the range of the watch satellites.

“Okay, here’s good,” Lard Nar states as he grabs his communicator. “Kio. Kio?”

Everyone looks at him worriedly when there’s no reply.

“Hm. Uh she must be busy,” he remarks, trying to mask his own concern. “Or something’s jamming the signal.”

“What does that mean?” Devi asks as she, Tenna, and Skoodge approach. “Are they okay?”

“Uh well I um I don’t know,” Nar admits, “this is our only way of communicating and after all the trouble we’ve caused, we have no way of getting to the surface.”

“Ugh, I hate this!” Devi groans loudly, throwing her hands into the air. “They’re down there fighting and we’re stuck up here, waiting around like a bunch of old wives.” “Uh, sir?” one of the officer squeaks.

“What is i-?” Lard Nar stops short when he sees the Massive through the window.

“It’s the Massive!” an officer shrieks.

“We’re all doomed!” another yells and the room quickly erupts into panicked shouting.

“Enough-enough!” Nar barks. Everyone quiets down and he points out the window. “Look, if they had noticed us, they would have blown us up by now. It must just be parked in orbit.”

Everyone sighs loudly with relief.

“What is that?” Tenna asks.

“The Massive, the Tallest’s command ship and the most powerful ship in the galaxy,” Nar replies.

Devi rubs her chin musingly. “So…when we escape, they’ll probably chase us in that, right?”

Nar blinks with surprise, like he hadn’t considered that. “Uh yeah…yeah, I guess they will. And we’ll never be able to escape it…”

“Not if we don’t do something about it right now,” Devi concludes.

“Huh?” he questions.

“Let’s board it and sabotage it.” “No nononononono noway!” Nar cries.

“Why not?”

“Even if it is just docked, it’ll still be full of guards,” he explains, “besides, only the engineers and the creators of the ship know its inner workings. And most of them are imprisoned…or dead.”

“Oh, oh, I know how it works!” Skoodge exclaims, “when I was demoted from invader I worked on the ship as maintenance.”

“Perfect,” Devi chimes.

“It’s still too risky!” Nar insists.

“Then I’ll go,” she declares.

“Me too,” Tenna chirps.

“And you’ll come with us,” Devi adds, looking at Skoodge who nods enthusiastically.

“Us too!” Gir squeals while Minimoose squeaks.

Nar looks at them with disbelief before sighing. “Very well. We’ll send you over on an escape pod. And we’ll stay close to the ship for when you need to escape.”

“Awesome,” Devi smirks and her team marches to an escape pod. Once they’re inside, they take off for the Massive.

“It’s even bigger up close…” Tenna comments as they near the aptly named vessel.

Meanwhile, back on Irk’s surface, most of the buildings surrounding the Main Command Centre have been completely destroyed, reduced to large piles of rubble. It’s quiet, with civilians having either evacuated or been crushed.

A large piece of stone is suddenly shoved into the air as Johnny emerges from the rubble, covered in dirt and dust but otherwise unscathed. He looks around at all the destruction, his sharp ears scanning for the slightest noise.

“Squee!” he shouts but hears nothing.

And then he hears something: footsteps and mechanical whirring. He ducks behind a pile of rubble just as a group of drones go by, surrounding Zim. He’s clearly been taken prisoner as he’s led to the command centre.

“I should…help him, shouldn’t I…” Nny groans with mild annoyance.

A door slides open in the wall of the command centre and Zim and the drones enter. Nny glides across the ground, low and swift like a beast, and slips in before the door shuts.

The hallway is brightly lit and narrow, with statues of the Tallest lining the walls. Zim’s antennae perk up and he glances back but sees nothing. His eyes narrow suspiciously as he faces forward.

Johnny pokes his head around a Tallest statue and watches the drones lead Zim away.

Back outside, Gaz cracks open her eyes and looks up with surprise at Dib as he’s kneeling over her, barely managing to hold up a large slab of stone with his power glove. He braces himself and fires a beam, blasting the stone to bits and collapsing onto his hands.

“Dib, you idiot,” Gaz snaps, “why’d you jump over me? You could’ve gotten hurt!...more.”

Dib smiles weakly as he wipes blood from the cut on his head. “It’s not bad. Besides, my power glove was able to protect us. More importantly, where’s Kio?”

They stand up and look around, but they don’t see anyone amidst the rubble.

“I’m sure she’s fine, she can take care of herself,” Gaz points out.

“Guys? Hello? Anyone?” Dib says as he tries to activate his communicator, but nobody responds. “Nothing. I hope they’re all okay.”

“If they are, then they’ll meet us back at Mar’s, like we agreed,” she states.

“Right, let’s go,” he nods.

They walk away, past the rubble and into the intact part of the city. It’s eerily quiet compared to earlier; they don’t even need their disguises.

“Where is everyone?” Gaz asks.

“Maybe evacuated and in hiding?” Dib suggests, “the planet is under attack after all.”

As they continue walking, they don’t notice something slither through the shadows of the buildings overhead. It watches them curiously, its many, many eyes narrowing. It licks its chops and launches towards them.

A jolt shoots up Gaz’s spine. She spins on her heel, swinging her Warhammer of Swine, and smashes a creature down the street.

“Whoa! Where’d that thing come from!” Dib exclaims.

The alien bounces off the ground a couple times before landing on its feet and glaring at the kids. It’s over seven feet long and snake-like, has two long legs and arms, dozens of beady eyes, and a mouth full of razor sharp fangs.

“Well,” he purrs, his voice smooth as silk. “Colour me ssssurprisssed.” Four forked tongues slither between his fangs.

“Whoa, what are you?” Dib asks, blatantly excited. Gaz glares at him wearily.

“I am Ssslisss,” he replies, bowing. “A member of the Carcasss rebelsss. And you?”

“I am Dib and this is my sssissster-I-I mean sister, Gaz,” Dib responds, “we’re humans.”

“Humansss?” Ssliss cocks his head. “Never heard of ya. You look deliciousss though.”

“Uh thank you?”

“If you don’t mind me asssking, what are a couple of nobody aliensss doing on Irk?” Ssliss asks.

“Oh, well you see, our friend is Irken and-.” Dib gets cut off when Gaz elbows his ribs.

“Are you seriously trying to have a conversation with this guy when he just tried to attack you?” she snaps.

“Forgive me,” Ssslisss says, “sssomtimesss I can get ahead of myssself. I ssshould be taking you prisssoner inssstead. You’re jussst ssso interesssting.”

Without another word Ssslisss suddenly lunges at them, quick as lighting. They barely manage to dodge by stumbling to the sides. Ssslisss stops himself on his feet and whips around like there’s not a bone in his body. Dib lifts his gloved fist and swings at him. Ssslisss’ head bends all the back before he flips backwards, slapping Dib’s chin with his tail.

“Ow!” he cries, stumbling backwards.

“You may have gotten me by sssurprissse with that initial attack,” Ssslisss says, “but it won’t happen again. You will be a great start in my alien menagerie.”

“I will not be part of an alien menagerie, let alone start one!” Dib declares.

“And you think the two of you can sssto-wait.” Ssslisss stops as he looks around. “Where’sss the other one?”

He starts to whip around just as Gaz smashes her hammer down on his tail. Throwing his head into the air, he shrieks in pain, just as Dib runs in and uppercuts him, bending his upper body perpendicular to the ground.

“You sure are flexible,” Dib comments.

Ssslisss hisses angrily, his many tongues flicking about, before opening his mouth wide. A gurgling noise can be heard before some sort of green liquid starts bubbling up his throat.

“Move!” Gaz orders and the siblings jump backwards, to opposite ends of the street, as Ssslisss starts hocking green loogies. Any surface they connect with starts melting away.

“It’s toxic!” Dib cries as he dodges the incoming spit. “Don’t let it touch you!”

“I wouldn’t even if it wasn’t toxic!” Gaz retorts. She tries to charge Ssslisss but she can’t get close without him turning his fire onto her.

Dib points the palm of his power glove at him, grips his forearm, and charges a blast. Ssslisss sees it coming and dodges fluidly before charging Dib. He isn’t ready and barely manages to block his sharp claws with his glove. They glare at each other, face to face, Ssslisss’ tongues flicking Dib’s cheeks as he hisses.

“Forget the menagerie,” he says, “I’d rather enjoy you asss ssssupper.

Ssslisss’ throat starts to bubble again, but he hesitates when Dib suddenly grabs the snake alien’s wrists with his other hand.

“Not likely,” he smirks.

From behind, Gaz lifts her hammer high over her head. “Your voice isss ssstupid.”

Ssslisss barely has time to look back before Gaz smashes his head straight into the ground at Dib’s feet.

They look at his body warily. His head has literally been crushed flat into the concrete, dark green blood pooling in the cracks.

“I hope this stuff isn’t toxic too,” Gaz comments as she eyes the soiled head of her hammer.

“Come on,” Dib demands, “let’s get out of here before we run into more trouble.”

Together, they run off through the city, leaving behind the defeated member of the Carcas rebels.

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction #iz jthm crossover #my ocs #my art

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