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paixaorpg2006-02-19 01:40 am
impendingdoomii.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2006-02-19 01:40 am
The Nightmare Begins... Some More [Closed]
Character(s): Invader ZIM
Content: Zim's mighty arrival at Paixao.
Setting: Vanaheim gate.
Time: Wednesday afternoon. Because I said so.
Warnings: Caps lock abuse like you would not believe. He is so very loud.
Somebody was screaming. A lot. Zim’s antennae seemed to vibrate with the sound under his wig, threatening to dislodge it. He quickly clamped his hands down over it and opened his eyes, looking around with furtive glances that were just a bit too furtive to actually be considered as such. But that didn’t matter! Because people were staring at him!
“Stop that screaming!” one of them yelled from the line of… filthy, filthy stink creature things, and Zim fixed him with a glare and was about to open his mouth to comment before he realized it already was. And he was screaming.
He stopped immediately, lowering one arm and letting the other scratch the back of his head in an Incredibly Casual and Slightly Embarrassed Just Like a Normal Person Would Be gesture. He was particularly proud of this one. He’d been practicing it for hours. “Heheh… oops?” Smile… smile… smile…. His face started to hurt with the force of his smile, but the filthy creature just gave him a look like he was crazy and let it go. VICTORY.
His wig itched. Zim scratched at it irritatedly, grumbling under his breath. “Say, fellow human Earth slug! What purpose does this… LINE serve? Tell me now and you will be spared destruction.” His hand curled into a fist and shook itself right under the person’s nose.
Blank stare. “I’m not from Earth…” the person said bewilderedly, glancing around at his fellows waiting in the queue for some help with this psychopath. He was ignored.
Zim scratched at his head again. Damn wig! It was really bothering him now, along with his contacts. “What do you mean, not Earth?! You’re a disgusting bipedal meatsack descended from apes, correct? YOU’RE LYING!!! When I am ruler of the planet—”
He gasped sharply in pain, the hand not busily scratching his wig going to his eyes and rubbing at them. The contacts he wore as part of his disguise immediately popped out in sync, falling to the ground.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! ……. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” He squeezed his eyes shut and fell to his knees, miming feeling around for his contacts as though blind and saying, “THERE IS NO NEED TO PANIC. I HAVE SIMPLY LOST MY CONTACTS. YOU SAW NOTHING. I AM NOT AN ALIEN.” There, they should believe that….
He carefully cracked open one eye to see where his contacts had fallen—just in time to see them stomped on by one of the people waiting in line.
“………….. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
His disguise! It was ruined! RUINED. All he had left was his wig, and that—
Wait. His wig had stopped itching.
Still kneeling, afraid to look up for fear of revealing his blood-red eyes, he cautiously reached up to feel his wig again. Strange… even through the material of his glove, it felt… different. Not so stiff and artificial. He gave it a small tug.
“OW! What the—?”
He pulled again, probably getting more odd looks from people waiting in line. It hurt. It wasn’t supposed to hurt. It was supposed to be—
Sudden terror dawned on him and he pulled out a handy mirror from his pod, letting both of his eyes open and staring in horror at what he saw. His eyes… looked exactly like his contacts.
“I’VE BECOME… HUMAN!!!!!!!”
There had to be some mistake. Had to. Zim was an Irken Elite Invader, not some… banana-eating filthy pig smelly! He poked at the middle of his face, eyes wide at the slight bump he encountered. Was that… a nose? He quickly jerked his head to the side, looking for ears. None of those, thank god. He still had his antennae… they mixed in almost flawlessly with his new head of black hair, the faint cowlick still in place.
Elated, he shot to his feet. Was he taller too? … Apparently not. That would have made this a lot more tolerable, but….
He caught sight of the line again, putting away the mirror and tapping his foot thoughtfully. “Human slug thing which is not from Earth! I demand to know what this line is about!”
No answer this time. Just a fearful glance, then a fixed stare at the gates at the entrance to the city. Hmmm… good, he was already feared.
Zim sniffed (what the hell, nose), and started marching to the entrance, ignoring people’s calls to get him to wait in line. Those fools, didn’t they know who he was?! Even if this wasn’t Earth, his name was famous across the galaxy.
He announced it proudly to the person who asked it, shoving past the man who had been reaching for the journal and snatching it for himself.
“ZIM. I AM ZIM. FUTURE RULER OF THIS… PAIXAO.”
Content: Zim's mighty arrival at Paixao.
Setting: Vanaheim gate.
Time: Wednesday afternoon. Because I said so.
Warnings: Caps lock abuse like you would not believe. He is so very loud.
Somebody was screaming. A lot. Zim’s antennae seemed to vibrate with the sound under his wig, threatening to dislodge it. He quickly clamped his hands down over it and opened his eyes, looking around with furtive glances that were just a bit too furtive to actually be considered as such. But that didn’t matter! Because people were staring at him!
“Stop that screaming!” one of them yelled from the line of… filthy, filthy stink creature things, and Zim fixed him with a glare and was about to open his mouth to comment before he realized it already was. And he was screaming.
He stopped immediately, lowering one arm and letting the other scratch the back of his head in an Incredibly Casual and Slightly Embarrassed Just Like a Normal Person Would Be gesture. He was particularly proud of this one. He’d been practicing it for hours. “Heheh… oops?” Smile… smile… smile…. His face started to hurt with the force of his smile, but the filthy creature just gave him a look like he was crazy and let it go. VICTORY.
His wig itched. Zim scratched at it irritatedly, grumbling under his breath. “Say, fellow human Earth slug! What purpose does this… LINE serve? Tell me now and you will be spared destruction.” His hand curled into a fist and shook itself right under the person’s nose.
Blank stare. “I’m not from Earth…” the person said bewilderedly, glancing around at his fellows waiting in the queue for some help with this psychopath. He was ignored.
Zim scratched at his head again. Damn wig! It was really bothering him now, along with his contacts. “What do you mean, not Earth?! You’re a disgusting bipedal meatsack descended from apes, correct? YOU’RE LYING!!! When I am ruler of the planet—”
He gasped sharply in pain, the hand not busily scratching his wig going to his eyes and rubbing at them. The contacts he wore as part of his disguise immediately popped out in sync, falling to the ground.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! ……. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” He squeezed his eyes shut and fell to his knees, miming feeling around for his contacts as though blind and saying, “THERE IS NO NEED TO PANIC. I HAVE SIMPLY LOST MY CONTACTS. YOU SAW NOTHING. I AM NOT AN ALIEN.” There, they should believe that….
He carefully cracked open one eye to see where his contacts had fallen—just in time to see them stomped on by one of the people waiting in line.
“………….. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
His disguise! It was ruined! RUINED. All he had left was his wig, and that—
Wait. His wig had stopped itching.
Still kneeling, afraid to look up for fear of revealing his blood-red eyes, he cautiously reached up to feel his wig again. Strange… even through the material of his glove, it felt… different. Not so stiff and artificial. He gave it a small tug.
“OW! What the—?”
He pulled again, probably getting more odd looks from people waiting in line. It hurt. It wasn’t supposed to hurt. It was supposed to be—
Sudden terror dawned on him and he pulled out a handy mirror from his pod, letting both of his eyes open and staring in horror at what he saw. His eyes… looked exactly like his contacts.
“I’VE BECOME… HUMAN!!!!!!!”
There had to be some mistake. Had to. Zim was an Irken Elite Invader, not some… banana-eating filthy pig smelly! He poked at the middle of his face, eyes wide at the slight bump he encountered. Was that… a nose? He quickly jerked his head to the side, looking for ears. None of those, thank god. He still had his antennae… they mixed in almost flawlessly with his new head of black hair, the faint cowlick still in place.
Elated, he shot to his feet. Was he taller too? … Apparently not. That would have made this a lot more tolerable, but….
He caught sight of the line again, putting away the mirror and tapping his foot thoughtfully. “Human slug thing which is not from Earth! I demand to know what this line is about!”
No answer this time. Just a fearful glance, then a fixed stare at the gates at the entrance to the city. Hmmm… good, he was already feared.
Zim sniffed (what the hell, nose), and started marching to the entrance, ignoring people’s calls to get him to wait in line. Those fools, didn’t they know who he was?! Even if this wasn’t Earth, his name was famous across the galaxy.
He announced it proudly to the person who asked it, shoving past the man who had been reaching for the journal and snatching it for himself.
“ZIM. I AM ZIM. FUTURE RULER OF THIS… PAIXAO.”