One of these days I'm gonna run out of things to write and wish I'd paced myself. Oh well! Beta-ed by Karyx!
**
The first thing Zim learned to love about Earth was its gravity. He'd never thought about it much before, but it made sense as he continued his studies. It all had to do with gravity. Irk's gravity was relatively high, at least 40% higher than that of Earth. And when such a strong force is pulling you down, it becomes rather hard to grow very much up. Over six long years on the rotten dirt ball had finally paid off, not in conquest but in height. Zim smiled at his six-foot tall reflection as he went over his daily grooming. He'd already bathed himself in paste and put on his normal attire. Though earth fashion had changed over time, he still kept to the basics of Irkin style. He wore a black T-shirt over a long sleeved black and fuchsia striped one with holes cut out at the end for his thumbs to stick out from. His pants were uniform black, with ankle high, black combat books pulled up over them. A quick look at his face made him thankful for another human progress. Since the funky-styled contact lens fetish, he hadn't had to wear his fake ones, telling all who asked that he'd special-ordered the ones they saw. It made sense that he would wear contact lenses anyway. He didn't have any ears. And with those pesky things gone the way of the vicious rat people, he had only to adorn his new wig. It was black as all the others had been but with a more I-just-woke-up-style to it, with a few ruby highlights to compliment his other features. Looking at himself again in the mirror, Zim smiled.
"I make invading look gooood."
"Looking gooooood," Gir reiterated, popping up from behind Zim's legs. "Can I play dress up now?"
Zim nodded, picking up his small robot friend and standing him on the dresser so he could clothe him. As the years went on, school seemed to get longer. It didn't take a genius to figure out that leaving Gir alone at the base for a prolonged period of time was hazardous to the mission. By the time Zim had reached eighth grade, he had enrolled Gir in preskool. It was almost as fun as plotting the destruction of all humanity as he set the plague of destruction and hyperactivity known as Gir in the humans' hands. It did, however, require a new disguise; a Gir-proof disguise at that, which meant the zipper had to be in the back this time and that he wouldn't be able to dress himself. Baby blue overalls and a human head helmet that clasped onto the suit in the back were easily applied. Though at first, Zim had been worried about keeping Gir in preskool for the rest of the mission, fearing it would cause suspicion to have someone be a preskooler for years, Gir was pronounced 'special' and kept within his mental range. Irk be praised for 'advanced' technology.
"There we go, Gir," Zim announced as he locked the red-haired helmet into place. Twin turquoise lights peered out from the head's mouth.
"Today I'm gonna draw a mongoose!" the robot shouted, jumping down and running to the front door where he'd wait till they left.
Zim didn't make him wait long. He packed his books into his bag and slung it over his shoulder by one strap. Not only had skool gotten longer but the books seemed to get heavier every year as well. He checked to make sure his neon green shoelaces were tied, then stepped out of his room and proceeded to the door, letting the ecstatic robot loose and locking the fortress behind him. He walked Gir to preskool first, then walked to his own hi skool. He'd thought about getting a car before but the stupid government required too much classified data. He especially didn't like the part about 'illegal aliens.' Besides, he'd been walking all over the city since he had first arrived. It wasn't exactly huge, nor was it as big a deal as some of his fellow teenagers made it out to be. Gaz, for instance.
No sooner was the name thought than the telltale sound of her horn blasted from behind him. Zim jumped and ducked into the bushes, as he'd learned was the appropriate response when the she-devil was loose. He heard her tires squeal and peeked out in time to watch her make long black marks across the sidewalk before bouncing back into the road. If Gaz had just passed then it wouldn't be long at all. He'd give him to the count of ten.
One. Two...eight TEN!
Zim leapt from the bushes and pounced on a flailing body that fell beneath him. There was a satisfying, indescribable sound of air being knocked out of the other's body when the pavement finally reached them.
"Good morning, Dib," Zim spat, standing up and brushing himself free of the bush pieces that had snagged him in his previous death roll.
Dib on the other hand remained on the ground, one hand pressed against his chest as he coughed and breathed quickly, trying to regain what Zim had shocked out of him. "You...wretched...beast…" he managed between gasps.
"I know. I know. Really, I'd loved to stay and talk, but I have to go to school and prepare to taunt you again," Zim said with a flip of his hand. "Otherwise, I'd love to stay and hear you complain and rave like the nutcase you so are."
He looked down out of the corner of his eyes, a smirk lifting his brow and lips. Dib was still hunched over but slowly getting back up to his feet, managing not to step on his trench coat as he did.
Dib hadn't changed much either; even less than Zim had. His hair was much the same as it had always been save longer. Some of the shorter pieces swayed across his ghostly pale face. The rest was a kind of frayed cut with the longest pieces dangling just past his shoulders and pulled back in a loose ponytail, with his sickle strand still poking up on top. He still wore glasses, obviously oblivious to the earth contact lens fashion, and his black trench coat with the v cut in back. His shirts had changed, though. Most of the time they were sleeveless turtlenecks, some harboring paranormal insignia, while his black pants and boots remained unchanged. And the sweetest victory of all was that he stood an inch shorter than Zim. While it made little difference to the human who was the taller, Zim relished in it.
"Well, Dib, I guess I'll see you around. That is, if I look down."
Dib narrowed his gaze, trying to shoot contempt at the alien like daggers or some other deadly projectile weaponry.
"Just wait, Zim.... You'll be sorry!"
"I'm sure I will be, puny earth monkey!" Zim laughed with his head strained backwards, putting everything he had into his victorious cackle of doom. He stopped as he neared the skool parking lot though, knowing well that uncalled for laughter drew as much unwanted attention as farting when the classroom was completely silent. Screams and breaking glass signaled once again that Gaz was in the area and Zim picked up his pace, making it into the building before the fiery vehicle of pain could run him down like a vampire piggy. Why did skool have to be a life and death battle?
His locker was relatively close to his first period class so he stopped by there first, punching a few people in the back who thought they could walk in front of him at a pace way below satisfactory. Once he'd disposed of the books he didn't need and acquired the tools that he did, he crossed the hall and stepped into class. He was used to being the first there as being social in the halls wasn't quite his thing and Mrs. Sweet smiled at him with her long black eyelashes dusting her cheeks.
"Good morning, Zim. And how are you today?"
The sickening high pitch of her voice made him wince. "Just fine. Mrs. Sweet."
"I'm so glad to here it!" She looked down at her nails and began to file them, the smell of nail polish remover violating Zim's sense of smell. He would take embalming fluid over the smell of that stuff any day.
The bell rang, its three, off pitch bings of torment echoing in the near empty room, and soon the bodies of his classmates filled the tables. Most of them flocked to the back of the room, the less fortunate stuck with sitting moderately close to the teacher's desk. Zim always sat in the front, though. There was no use fighting over a choice seat when everyone was going to have to do and hear the same thing. Mostly note passing and whispered snickers went on back there, anyway, and whom did he have to communicate with? Not that he would want to communicate with the filthy earth beasts.
With seconds left until the tardy bell rang, Dib slipped through the door, finding his seat on the far end of the front row and sitting soundlessly. It was minutes after the final bell rang that Mrs. Sweet noticed class had begun.
"Oh, good morning class! How are you today?"
Moans and noncommittal grumbling floated to the front of the room. Mrs. Sweet didn't seem to mind. "Today we're going to be learning about the oceans and all the fuzzy creatures that live under the sea!"
Zim rolled his eyes. Mrs. Sweet seemed to have an affinity toward fuzzy things, even if they weren't fuzzy at all. She turned around to the board and pulled down a map of the world, pointing out the big pink hearts she'd drawn over the blue regions on them. "See! I love the ocean!"
Refusing to vomit at her sickening syrupiness, Zim looked down at his desk, reading and observing some of the detailed and interesting things carved into it. Aside from the teacher's squeaky lecture, he could hear a jumbling of limbs. He spared a glance in the direction of the sound; Dib was jerking around as if someone had sat him on top of a huge washer/dryer, his head snapping up at odd intervals. It lasted for a while, growing steadily worse until a final jerk rolled him out of his desk and onto the floor with a sickening thump.
Zim glanced around, noticing the rest of the class seemed oblivious.
"Oh come on. No one else saw that?"
Mrs. Sweet turned away from her chalk drawing of a seahorse. "Zim, please remain quiet while I continue my lecture," she reprimanded, turning back to her pictures.
This is insane, Zim thought, leaning forward to look at Dib on the floor. He hadn't moved since he hit the ground. His body wasn't even shaking anymore. Since no one else seemed to mind, Zim got up out of his desk and knelt down beside Dib.
"Come on, Dib. Wake up and get back in your desk. It's no fun when you make yourself look stupid." He poked at the body with his pointy fingers, jabbing them into Dib's head, side, shoulders and neck. He didn't respond. Getting annoyed, Zim turned him over on his back.
A thin trickle of blood was slivering down from his nose. Zim figured he'd hit it when he hit the floor and shook his harder. "You're making a mess, Dib. Get up."
"Zim, I'm warning you to remain seated and silent! Don't make me warn you again!"
Zim narrowed his eyes. He really didn't like her very much. "I think the Dib needs to go to the nurse."
Mrs. Sweet shrugged her shoulders, "He looks fine to me."
Zim reached down and wiped at the blood with his finger, meaning to show the teacher how 'fine' he was but discovering something else entirely. He could feel no breath coming from Dib's mouth of nose. And with his eyes closed he certainly couldn't breath. Zim quickly scooped Dib into his arms, surprised at how little he weighed. This annoyed Mrs. Sweet even more.
"And just what do you think you're doing now?" she asked, shaking her pink chalk at him.
"He needs to see the nurse; he's not breathing!" Zim spat, walking out the door without a reply.
Mrs. Sweet shook her head in dismay. "And he left without a hall pass."
***
This is a little more the length I like my chapters to be. I was a little dismayed at their length in Dementional Scope ::shivers:: I hate that title.... anyway, you like this so far?
**
The first thing Zim learned to love about Earth was its gravity. He'd never thought about it much before, but it made sense as he continued his studies. It all had to do with gravity. Irk's gravity was relatively high, at least 40% higher than that of Earth. And when such a strong force is pulling you down, it becomes rather hard to grow very much up. Over six long years on the rotten dirt ball had finally paid off, not in conquest but in height. Zim smiled at his six-foot tall reflection as he went over his daily grooming. He'd already bathed himself in paste and put on his normal attire. Though earth fashion had changed over time, he still kept to the basics of Irkin style. He wore a black T-shirt over a long sleeved black and fuchsia striped one with holes cut out at the end for his thumbs to stick out from. His pants were uniform black, with ankle high, black combat books pulled up over them. A quick look at his face made him thankful for another human progress. Since the funky-styled contact lens fetish, he hadn't had to wear his fake ones, telling all who asked that he'd special-ordered the ones they saw. It made sense that he would wear contact lenses anyway. He didn't have any ears. And with those pesky things gone the way of the vicious rat people, he had only to adorn his new wig. It was black as all the others had been but with a more I-just-woke-up-style to it, with a few ruby highlights to compliment his other features. Looking at himself again in the mirror, Zim smiled.
"I make invading look gooood."
"Looking gooooood," Gir reiterated, popping up from behind Zim's legs. "Can I play dress up now?"
Zim nodded, picking up his small robot friend and standing him on the dresser so he could clothe him. As the years went on, school seemed to get longer. It didn't take a genius to figure out that leaving Gir alone at the base for a prolonged period of time was hazardous to the mission. By the time Zim had reached eighth grade, he had enrolled Gir in preskool. It was almost as fun as plotting the destruction of all humanity as he set the plague of destruction and hyperactivity known as Gir in the humans' hands. It did, however, require a new disguise; a Gir-proof disguise at that, which meant the zipper had to be in the back this time and that he wouldn't be able to dress himself. Baby blue overalls and a human head helmet that clasped onto the suit in the back were easily applied. Though at first, Zim had been worried about keeping Gir in preskool for the rest of the mission, fearing it would cause suspicion to have someone be a preskooler for years, Gir was pronounced 'special' and kept within his mental range. Irk be praised for 'advanced' technology.
"There we go, Gir," Zim announced as he locked the red-haired helmet into place. Twin turquoise lights peered out from the head's mouth.
"Today I'm gonna draw a mongoose!" the robot shouted, jumping down and running to the front door where he'd wait till they left.
Zim didn't make him wait long. He packed his books into his bag and slung it over his shoulder by one strap. Not only had skool gotten longer but the books seemed to get heavier every year as well. He checked to make sure his neon green shoelaces were tied, then stepped out of his room and proceeded to the door, letting the ecstatic robot loose and locking the fortress behind him. He walked Gir to preskool first, then walked to his own hi skool. He'd thought about getting a car before but the stupid government required too much classified data. He especially didn't like the part about 'illegal aliens.' Besides, he'd been walking all over the city since he had first arrived. It wasn't exactly huge, nor was it as big a deal as some of his fellow teenagers made it out to be. Gaz, for instance.
No sooner was the name thought than the telltale sound of her horn blasted from behind him. Zim jumped and ducked into the bushes, as he'd learned was the appropriate response when the she-devil was loose. He heard her tires squeal and peeked out in time to watch her make long black marks across the sidewalk before bouncing back into the road. If Gaz had just passed then it wouldn't be long at all. He'd give him to the count of ten.
One. Two...eight TEN!
Zim leapt from the bushes and pounced on a flailing body that fell beneath him. There was a satisfying, indescribable sound of air being knocked out of the other's body when the pavement finally reached them.
"Good morning, Dib," Zim spat, standing up and brushing himself free of the bush pieces that had snagged him in his previous death roll.
Dib on the other hand remained on the ground, one hand pressed against his chest as he coughed and breathed quickly, trying to regain what Zim had shocked out of him. "You...wretched...beast…" he managed between gasps.
"I know. I know. Really, I'd loved to stay and talk, but I have to go to school and prepare to taunt you again," Zim said with a flip of his hand. "Otherwise, I'd love to stay and hear you complain and rave like the nutcase you so are."
He looked down out of the corner of his eyes, a smirk lifting his brow and lips. Dib was still hunched over but slowly getting back up to his feet, managing not to step on his trench coat as he did.
Dib hadn't changed much either; even less than Zim had. His hair was much the same as it had always been save longer. Some of the shorter pieces swayed across his ghostly pale face. The rest was a kind of frayed cut with the longest pieces dangling just past his shoulders and pulled back in a loose ponytail, with his sickle strand still poking up on top. He still wore glasses, obviously oblivious to the earth contact lens fashion, and his black trench coat with the v cut in back. His shirts had changed, though. Most of the time they were sleeveless turtlenecks, some harboring paranormal insignia, while his black pants and boots remained unchanged. And the sweetest victory of all was that he stood an inch shorter than Zim. While it made little difference to the human who was the taller, Zim relished in it.
"Well, Dib, I guess I'll see you around. That is, if I look down."
Dib narrowed his gaze, trying to shoot contempt at the alien like daggers or some other deadly projectile weaponry.
"Just wait, Zim.... You'll be sorry!"
"I'm sure I will be, puny earth monkey!" Zim laughed with his head strained backwards, putting everything he had into his victorious cackle of doom. He stopped as he neared the skool parking lot though, knowing well that uncalled for laughter drew as much unwanted attention as farting when the classroom was completely silent. Screams and breaking glass signaled once again that Gaz was in the area and Zim picked up his pace, making it into the building before the fiery vehicle of pain could run him down like a vampire piggy. Why did skool have to be a life and death battle?
His locker was relatively close to his first period class so he stopped by there first, punching a few people in the back who thought they could walk in front of him at a pace way below satisfactory. Once he'd disposed of the books he didn't need and acquired the tools that he did, he crossed the hall and stepped into class. He was used to being the first there as being social in the halls wasn't quite his thing and Mrs. Sweet smiled at him with her long black eyelashes dusting her cheeks.
"Good morning, Zim. And how are you today?"
The sickening high pitch of her voice made him wince. "Just fine. Mrs. Sweet."
"I'm so glad to here it!" She looked down at her nails and began to file them, the smell of nail polish remover violating Zim's sense of smell. He would take embalming fluid over the smell of that stuff any day.
The bell rang, its three, off pitch bings of torment echoing in the near empty room, and soon the bodies of his classmates filled the tables. Most of them flocked to the back of the room, the less fortunate stuck with sitting moderately close to the teacher's desk. Zim always sat in the front, though. There was no use fighting over a choice seat when everyone was going to have to do and hear the same thing. Mostly note passing and whispered snickers went on back there, anyway, and whom did he have to communicate with? Not that he would want to communicate with the filthy earth beasts.
With seconds left until the tardy bell rang, Dib slipped through the door, finding his seat on the far end of the front row and sitting soundlessly. It was minutes after the final bell rang that Mrs. Sweet noticed class had begun.
"Oh, good morning class! How are you today?"
Moans and noncommittal grumbling floated to the front of the room. Mrs. Sweet didn't seem to mind. "Today we're going to be learning about the oceans and all the fuzzy creatures that live under the sea!"
Zim rolled his eyes. Mrs. Sweet seemed to have an affinity toward fuzzy things, even if they weren't fuzzy at all. She turned around to the board and pulled down a map of the world, pointing out the big pink hearts she'd drawn over the blue regions on them. "See! I love the ocean!"
Refusing to vomit at her sickening syrupiness, Zim looked down at his desk, reading and observing some of the detailed and interesting things carved into it. Aside from the teacher's squeaky lecture, he could hear a jumbling of limbs. He spared a glance in the direction of the sound; Dib was jerking around as if someone had sat him on top of a huge washer/dryer, his head snapping up at odd intervals. It lasted for a while, growing steadily worse until a final jerk rolled him out of his desk and onto the floor with a sickening thump.
Zim glanced around, noticing the rest of the class seemed oblivious.
"Oh come on. No one else saw that?"
Mrs. Sweet turned away from her chalk drawing of a seahorse. "Zim, please remain quiet while I continue my lecture," she reprimanded, turning back to her pictures.
This is insane, Zim thought, leaning forward to look at Dib on the floor. He hadn't moved since he hit the ground. His body wasn't even shaking anymore. Since no one else seemed to mind, Zim got up out of his desk and knelt down beside Dib.
"Come on, Dib. Wake up and get back in your desk. It's no fun when you make yourself look stupid." He poked at the body with his pointy fingers, jabbing them into Dib's head, side, shoulders and neck. He didn't respond. Getting annoyed, Zim turned him over on his back.
A thin trickle of blood was slivering down from his nose. Zim figured he'd hit it when he hit the floor and shook his harder. "You're making a mess, Dib. Get up."
"Zim, I'm warning you to remain seated and silent! Don't make me warn you again!"
Zim narrowed his eyes. He really didn't like her very much. "I think the Dib needs to go to the nurse."
Mrs. Sweet shrugged her shoulders, "He looks fine to me."
Zim reached down and wiped at the blood with his finger, meaning to show the teacher how 'fine' he was but discovering something else entirely. He could feel no breath coming from Dib's mouth of nose. And with his eyes closed he certainly couldn't breath. Zim quickly scooped Dib into his arms, surprised at how little he weighed. This annoyed Mrs. Sweet even more.
"And just what do you think you're doing now?" she asked, shaking her pink chalk at him.
"He needs to see the nurse; he's not breathing!" Zim spat, walking out the door without a reply.
Mrs. Sweet shook her head in dismay. "And he left without a hall pass."
***
This is a little more the length I like my chapters to be. I was a little dismayed at their length in Dementional Scope ::shivers:: I hate that title.... anyway, you like this so far?