I've always been fascinated by humorism. Ancient doctors believed that the human body was made up of four humors – fluids - which roughly coincided with the four classical elements of nature – earth, air, fire, and water. Often, someone's personality was determined by whichever humor was strongest in them. Those with a lot of "earth," for instance, were often solemn, thoughtful, sensitive, and neurotic.

Once you start studying humorism, you see evidence of it everywhere. In Harry Potter, the four houses each represent a different element: Gryffindor is fire, Slytherin is water, Ravenclaw is air and Hufflepuff is earth. Also, teams of four characters, each one representing a different element, make up a lot of fictional casts. The four Ninja Turtles, the show Seinfeld, etcetera. Invader Zim is no exception. The primary four (Zim, GIR, Gaz, and Dib) each correspond respectively with the elements of fire, air, water, and earth.

This is all just a really long-winded way of me saying that I've wanted to write these elementally-themed one-shots for a while, which show off each character's dominant element. First up is GIR, representing air, because he's easiest.

Element: Air

Humor: Sanguine

Associated Traits: Amorous, happy, generous, optimistic, irresponsible

Something was moving out on the sidewalk. Just inside the picket fence, beside one of Zim's fake-enough trees, a black and floppy something flailed in the grass. GIR peeked his nano-eyes over the edge of the front window, his antenna tapping against the glass as he watched the black whatever shuffle itself around near one of the gnomes.

It was too little to be the Dib-human. GIR knew that much. He latched his little claws on the edge of the windowsill, standing tip-toed to get a better look at the yard. Behind him the theme song of the Scary Monkey show was just beginning to titter into its opening notes, but GIR was too distracted to pay much notice. He'd seen this episode before, anyway.

Master was down in the basement labs, doing something with…GIR tried to remember. Pickled sea cucumbers? Exploding toast? He'd been zoning out when Zim was giving him instructions to keep an eye on things on the upper levels. Thinking about how tomorrow was ice cream day, and he was going to get a Super-Double-Diabeetus Fudgeymapop from the man in the truck, and then –

The animal in the yard rolled over onto its back, flailing scrawny legs in the air. GIR narrowed his metallic eyes at it. A little warm tingle spread over his body as his eyes flashed red and he felt the proper SIR part of his mind take over. Just for an instant. This weird intruder out on the lawn looked like something that needed to be securitied.

Snapping himself to attention, GIR marched rigidly over to the front door. Then his SIR programming went idle again, passing over him like a spell, and he felt clanky and airy and like the real GIR again. Those little fits sometimes scared him – he didn't care much for feeling so…locked in. Strict. Still.

He'd read about an animal experience called choking. It was where those bellowy organs that humans had in their chests didn't get enough air. He supposed that was sort of what it was like. Only GIR didn't need any air, so maybe that wasn't it at all?

He gave a little under-bite frown and trotted out into the yard, soon forgetting his confusion. It was a nice day, after all – the sun shone warmly down through a few scattered clouds, the sharp light managing to penetrate the town's usually thick layer of smog. Every once and a while a soft breeze or moment of cloud cover would break up the toasty air, but for the most part it was warm and bright and pleasant.

GIR liked how Earth was still warm. He liked the green on the ground and the fur on the animals. Much better than stuffy, sterile old Irk. Just the feeling of soft sunlight on his reflective head brought a jaunt to his toes, and before he knew it he was dancing a shuffle-footed dance all the way across the yard to the funny thing he'd seen from the window.

It turned out to be a bird. GIR recognized the black, shiny feathers and the beak pointed like a pyramid. He'd never seen a bird move this way, though. Not even in those scary late-night movies where the birds got mutated and started eating people. This bird was flopping and flailing about on the ground, more panicked the closer that he got to it.

GIR stopped a foot or so away, crouching down close to the grass, resting his hands on his knees and watching the bird closely. It didn't right itself and fly away, like birds were supposed to do. Instead its left wing hung weirdly in the middle, making GIR wonder if a screw or bolt were missing.

He decided to check. Abandoning his sneaky pose, GIR trotted over and scooped the bird up into his arms. At first it flapped its good wing in his face, trying to scratch him with its little claws. GIR figured it might be scared, so he hugged it to his chest until it calmed. The bird felt warm and soft against his belly. Its feathers were a little ticklish so close and GIR waggled his antenna back and forth as he giggled.

"Silly bird! You don't go on the ground. Birds are supposed to be up in the sky," he said, half-snickering and half-scolding. Maybe it just forgot what the sky was like?

The bird didn't answer him. Instead it just looked up, sideways-like. It had to keep its head cocked to watch him with its beady black eye that glimmered in the sunlight amidst a mess of tiny, shiny feathers.

"C'mon, birdy. Let's go fly. I bet that will make you feel better."

He wrapped both hands around the bird's soft middle and held it securely against his chest, being careful not to squish it. Animals didn't like to be squished – it messed their organs all up. Completely forgetting to check for any overlooking humans, GIR clicked his jetpacks on (tuna-free today) and rocketed up into the sky.

Within seconds they'd cleared the tree, the rooftops, the apartment building down the street. The road shrank beneath GIR's rocket feet, becoming a brown ribbon tossed amongst a sea of building blocks. Wind shot past them, ruffling the bird's feathers backwards. GIR took a second to stop in midair and smooth them back down.

He imagined that the little bird must have liked that. It huddled against him, marble eyes blinking slowly as he petted its back. Reassured that it was doing okay, GIR started his ascent once more.

Arcs of fire bloomed out from below as GIR gathered speed, leaving a dusty steam trail in his wake. Far, far away, back on the ground, the roads had been reduced to scattered black threads and the buildings to Legos. Here and there was the movement of a grain-sized car or a needle-point person, scooting back and forth like particles.

GIR flew on. He skidded across clouds, squeaking with glee as they disintegrated at his touch. They broke coolly over his metal body, leaving him shivery and coated with condensation but giggly, too. Every seemingly solid bank of white puffed into nothingness as he crashed through them, leaving behind GIR-shaped holes for a single instant. There were so many different kinds of clouds, too – the dusty, fluffy kind and the sort that were thick and shiny, and even ones that looked lumpy and billowy like mashed potatoes. Those were GIR's favorite.

Eventually clouds started to get boring. Then GIR decided to see how high he could fly. Up and up he went, kicking his feet as the jets fired him on. GIR danced mid-air and turned somersaults. He whizzed around in barrel-rolls, thrilled at the giddy, dizzy feeling before his computer's gyroscope figured out which way was up and down.

The wind was a little more chilly up here, but GIR was flying too fast and spirited to notice. Space was just about infinite so high up, after all. He could zoom around and back as far as he wanted, without any walls or floors or ceilings or angry masters to slow him down. So he did. Flailing, bopping, spinning, and giggling crazily, GIR kept flying, his jetpacks firing on as strong as ever.

They were far above the earth by now. Whenever GIR bothered to look down, he mostly saw monotonous waves of clouds coasting gently by. It was only the occasional gap in cloud cover that showed ground – the state was laid out far below like a map, with uneven patches of green and brown and the black spiderwebbing of cities.

GIR only glanced down now and then. It was up that most concerned him. He kept rocketing on. On as the clouds became thin and faded. On as the light started to reflect weirdly around them, fading dark as the atmosphere grew anemic. On as GIR started to make out stars above him, and as his belly started to sink strangely as the pull of gravity grew weak.

It was only then that he stopped. Much further and he might float away. Then Zim would have to come get him and that would be bad.

GIR let his rockets slow to a height-maintaining trickle, hovering midair. He glanced around at the thick blue sky and realized he was in the sky itself. Like a star! The swirling ocean of clouds coasted along below him, following the jet streams in tidy paths. He could even make out the gentle curve of the earth, arcing softly around, and carrying the deep blue of the sky with it like the thick frosting atop a cake.

"It sure looks weird up here, huh, birdy?" GIR said. He gave the thing a little squeeze with his claws.

It felt strange. It didn't give beneath his grip like a stuffed animal like it was supposed to. It didn't feel warm anymore. Instead the bird's body was stiff and cool between his fingers. Made of metal, it seemed like. The tips of a few of the bird's feathers were coated in a thin frosting of ice. The little bird's eyes, which before had shone shiny like marbles, were tightly shut, leaving its head a mass of black and ruffled feathers.

GIR tilted his head to the side. He felt his antenna bonk the side of his head as it fell down limp. It hadn't been like this before. Not when he was on the ground. When had it gone all still like this? GIR couldn't remember. He'd been too busy flying and dancing and playing. But now it wasn't right at all. He squeezed it again, hopefully and gently, but it stayed the same.

A cold and sticky mass was growing somewhere down near his data processor. It felt yucky and wet and made GIR want to take a nap as he looked down at the dead bird in his hands. It was an accident, he thought. That didn't make him feel any better.

GIR let his little shoulders hunch down, dejected. He held the bird closer to his chest, knowing that he couldn't hurt it now.

The rockets on his feet were turned way down. His return to earth went much more linearly as GIR let himself fall slowly back towards earth. He crashed through clouds as he went, only turning up his rockets if the wind threatened to blow him off course. Fortunately Zim had fixed his locator chip, so GIR had a fairly good idea of where to land.

He touched down in Zim's yard, the grass rippling out in a perfect ring around him as he landed his feet on the solid earth. It felt very strange to walk around on the ground after flying for so long, but GIR managed to walk only a little lopsided. He stepped carefully over to the corner of the yard, not wanting to drop the bird's still form.

Humans buried their dead, he knew, but that seemed dirty and gross and Zim wouldn't like him digging up the yard anyway. Instead GIR set the bird down as gently as he could in the very corner, wedged between the two sides of the fence. He yanked up a few handfuls of grass and covered the tiny shape up, until not even the slightest hint of black remained.

GIR pulled himself to his feet, turning neatly on one toe as he started to head toward the house. Maybe there would be something funny on T.V. to cheer him up. Maybe the Dib-human would stop by and fight with his master. That would be fun.

As he walked back into the house, GIR hazarded one final glance up at the sky. It looked much different from down here, with all the buildings and airplanes and tree blanches blocking it so. GIR glared up at one of the branches of Zim's tree, wishing he could see the sky better.

Instead GIR's shiny, cyan eyes saw a lump of twigs and grass wedge in one of the branch's forks. A nest.

Barely thinking, barely processing any data at all, GIR popped his jetpacks back on and shot up to the top of the tree. He scooped the nest into his arms, feeling it scratch and tickle against his elbows, and waited until he was solidly back on the ground before looking inside.

The nest held three eggs. Each one was blue and speckled like a starry sky, rolling gently against one another in the nest's little furrow. It was lined with fur and feathers, woven carefully around, so that each egg was safe and warm.

GIR stared down into the nest, at the three lonely eggs. He thought about the cold and still black bird in the corner of the yard that wouldn't ever fly again.

Without his beckoning, sudden and rigid, he felt the formal part of his A.I. brain pass over his mind. The patch on his chest flashed red, his feet clicked together as he stood at attention, and for a single clear and brief moment, GIR knew exactly what to do.

The moment passed as quickly as it had come. GIR felt his body go limp and silly again, like it was supposed to be, but the instruction that his SIR-half had given him stayed floating foremost in his thoughts.

GIR gave a little nod, to no one in particular, and stomped up to the front door of the house. He held the nest safely again his chest with one hand as he clicked the door open and wandered into the living room, quickly shutting it behind him and holding the nest securely with both hands once again.

Zim must have been waiting for him, because the irate Irken was standing in the center of the room, arms crossed over his chest and boot tapping angrily against the floor.

"Where were you, GIR? You left the house exposed! And without your disguise, either? You could have jeopardized the entire mission! The house could be full of ants at this very moment!" Zim began, shrieking, stomping his feet.

"I found birdy eggs. Can we hatch them and keep the babies?"

Zim narrowed his eyes into slits of red, planting his knuckles on his hips resolutely. "What? GIR, that's a terrible idea. Earth eggs have Earth birds to take care of them. Besides, I don't have the right kind of car seat for the Voot Cruiser to transport baby birds."

"They don't have a mommy anymore," Gir explained, half-pleading. "Pleeeaaase, master?"

"No."

"But-" GIR felt that sticky, cold lump rolling around his insides again, making wetness well up in his eyes and blurring his vision and clamming up his metal skin. He hugged the nest closer to his chest, afraid that Zim would take it from him. "But I wants to raise the babies. They'll be all by themselves if we don't!"

Zim's expression stayed still for a moment. Still like the bird's body had been. His gleaming red eyes roved over GIR's shiny chassis and finally rested on the dirty nest clamped in GIR's arms. For a few moments there was only silence, stillness between them, only the sound of the whirring in the walls and the quiet chatter of the T.V.

"Fine," Zim said, sharply, letting his hands limply fall from his waist to his side. "Fine. The computer can incubate the eggs down in the lab. But I expect for you to take full responsibility for their behavior, GIR! If even a single one of those birds tries to compromise the mission, there will be no tacos for a week! Alright?"

"Yaay!" GIR squeaked, grinning, tongue sticking out of his mouth in glee. He huggled the nest to his chest, eyes shut into happy crescents, and trotted proudly across the living room toward the lab.

Hopefully that will make it a little more obvious what I'm trying to do? In terms of tying together the characters and their elements, that is. I've already finished Zim (fire) and I'm like three-quarters done with Dib (earth). Gaz is…sort of up in the air right now, so if you have any suggestions for ways to tie her in with water, please let me know! I promise I'll cite you :D Otherwise, feel free to leave me a review! Tell me what worked, what didn't, or if this whole idea is just too out-there. I'd love to hear from any of you!