(A/N: This is me when I have writer's block elsewhere in my life (and by life I mean my writing) so I decided I'd look back at some of my older stuff. I reread the Cycle of Life trilogy and was aghast. Those stories were HORRIBLE! So, ego wounded and in need of fixing, I decided to do this: I was going to rewrite the Cycle of Life trilogy as one story and then I was going to revamp it and make it longer and cooler and better all around. So this is where this came from. There are some Irken phrases in here and I have included a handy-dandy translations note at the bottom of this chapter.)
Disclaimer: the only thing I own are the various bits of Irken language in here, the Irken phonetic alphabet I used to compose them, Zim's OCD, Dib's bad emo poetry and hairstyle, Gaz(who will not appear in this chapter)'s autism, and the extreme OOCness that I ripped off of some hobo, y'know the one that just got a job? Yeah...that one.
Chapter One: A Simple Phrase
[[itsator t'halketsu okef't t'halketsu etsunakederu-]](1)
It started with just that, three simple words, so seemingly insignificant that they were ignored the first time and had to be repeated.
"I have proof."
Zim looked up at his foe and squinted his normally magenta eyes, "Eh?"
"I said, I have proof Zim." Dib glared down at the diminutive alien. "I have proof of what you are and this time I have SOLID proof."
Zim snorted and waved a hand dismissively, "Pfeh. Zim knows you have no such proof. Do not try to fool me because I am Ziiiiiiiim! And Zim is amazing!"
Dib smiled dangerously and leaned in close to his foe, his now-long hair ghosting across the nape of Zim's neck eliciting a shudder and noise of revulsion. "I have a way…something my dad is developing for the CIA and FBI. It's a retina and memory scanner. You input a code word and the machine looks for matches in both the retinal imagery and memories stored within your brain."
"And your point? What kind of proof is that?" Zim crowed nervously.
"Well I've seen you without your pathetic disguise and foiled many of your sad schemes so I have many memories of you in your alien glory."
Zim smirked, yes – glory. Zim was glorious wasn't he? Then he frowned. Two, he stopped at two sets of two. Bad bad bad…
"The machine prints off results and matching images so I'll finally have actual PHYSICAL proof. And then the world will know what you really are…" Dib had leaned forward to a point that he nearly was eating the plastic top of the Hi-Skool lunch table.
"A completely normal specimen of the filthy HYUman smeetling-kind," Zim finished. Throughout the years many things about Zim's speech patterns had changed, he had grasped what he and most others of his age considered to be 'normal teenage slang'. What hadn't changed was his penchant for talking in the third person, random accenting of words, and snarky, semi-incomprehensible nicknames.
Dib just laughed cruelly and shook his head. "A filthy space-boy," he retorted. Then he pulled away from Zim and frowned. Zim's disturbed expression was replaced with one wicked sneer.
"Aw...is the Dib-thing afraid that his failure of a parental unit will ignore him once again; which will lead him to go to his room; have him turn on some of that mopey 'emocore' music; and slice deliciously depressing ditties into his arms, legs, and torso with a sharp utensil?" Over the years their fights had geared less towards actual physical fighting and more towards verbal barbs that had gotten even more accurate over the years, finding a chink in their target's armor. Dib's chink was his neglectful father, violently angry and mentally impaired sister, and his ever-growing bouts of depression that got so bad at points that Dib began to INVITE the Irken Armada.
"No Zim, I'm more afraid that the images won't capture your sheer stupidity and failure as an Invader. Even as a FAKE one." And that was Zim's weak point.
They glared at each other, controlling their emotions and engaging in their sick game of 'Uncle'—the first one to react with anything other than anger and contempt lost. Tears pricked at the edge of Dib's vision and for a second the world fractured and danced with light as the salty fluid brimmed in his eyes, not daring to spill over their restrictive lids. Zim waged a war inside of him, his indignant ego fighting his deep-seated hatred for the human. His ego was swallowed up and neither showed their hand. Then a single tear dripped down Dib's nose and he broke eye contact, smiling knowingly. Then he sauntered off just as the Skool bell rang for students to switch classes.
"See you in the news Zim."
Zim had nothing to say, contemplating the deep dookie he was in. What is Zim to do? He thought, what is Zim GOING to do? And he worried his way to his next class.
[[meyaz PAK setsu-setsu welo -welohalkarutor toroke deruoke#]](2)
Zim sat down for study hall with Ms. Bitters and then raised his hand, patiently waiting for the decrepit old bag to catch wind of his great need. She finally caught his contact-covered eyes and growled, "What is it Zim? You'd better be dying or bleeding profusely from some orifice."
"Zim appears to have caught a resilient remnant of the H1-N1 flu strain and needs to go home and get vaccinated. May I? I AM a senior and can check myself out." provided GIR doesn't mess up.
Ms. Bitters gave him a once-over and then nodded curtly, gesturing to the door, "Get out. And if you get abducted on the way home and I get blamed I will hunt you down and rip your organs out through your new rectum." Then she turned back to her class and barked out an order, "Get back to work! I don't want to hear a single peep out of you!" The door slammed and the teenagers got to work.
Dib smiled to himself, pleased that Zim was so worried, and then turned his attention back to the poetry he had been writing on his arm the entire day:
And when I finally understood, you take away
What made you YOU in the first place
Why is it that I must fail?
Do you hate me? Or is it bigger? Some sort of
Universal, no, INTERDIMENSIONAL conspiracy against me.
Nevertheless...
My heart bleeds for you still
Come back to me, my three-letter word.
[[nake t'halketsunake itsator halkitsator me'tsu_jerokeitsanake f'torkerencathetsusetstu-]](3)
Zim paced the floor of his lab nervously, "Why is it that as soon as Zim runs out of good plans to end this planet, the Dib comes up with an excellent plan to expose me? Does Setsuhalkitsa(4) hate me? Is it because I have fallen out of favor with my Tallests? I understand that I have not been the most amazing of Invaders since it shouldn't take an Irken Elite SEVEN halkeen(5) to doom one miserable ball of filth! Look at Skoodge, he finished his mission in less than a diverth halkeen(6) and now he's slumming it here just to spite me! Zim kicked the corner of a pristine counter and hissed in pain. Then, as the pain cleared the need began and he swiftly punched the wall with the opposite hand and then banged his head against a dooming machine.
He relaxed and then frowned, pacing back and forth. One – two – three, one – two – three, one – two – three. Then he paused and began the pattern again, talking to fill the empty space in the room.
"It doesn't help that the blasted human had a 'growth spurt' and grew like three Head, four Ring(7) or that Zim is two Head, ten ring shorter than everyone else and he is the only male to wear the colors of the Irken Empire! Zim does not fit in and yet the humans ignore Zim's not-fitting-in-ness! But now the Dib wishes to sabotage Zim's amazing disguise! And he has no remorse!" he paced a bit more, always in three sets of three steps, and then he got it. "Computer! Display options for scenario D-315!"
[OPTION ONE: WIPE THE DIB'S MEMORY]
"Too messy. And Zim likes having an adversary. Next!"
[OPTION TWO: KILL THE DIB]
"Again, Zim likes having a nemesis of his own. NEXT!"
[OPTION THREE: MAKE THE DIB RECONSIDER]
There was a much longer pause on this one as Zim had to stop and think, his PAK whirring in overdrive. "But the Dib will never reconsider..." Zim pondered aloud, "Because the Dib is human and cares about the human welfare..." Then there was a lightbulb moment and Zim grinned from antenna to antenna. Of course. "Computer! Contact Prisoner 777! I have an idea..."
[[halketsu wel'okeumalierderu halketsulierpreth m'etsu-]](8)
Translation Notes:
(1) itsator t'halketsu okef't t'halketsu etsunakederu-: Phonetic Irken. Translation: it [was] beginning to end.
(2) meyaz PAK setsu-setsu welo -welohalkarutor toroke deruoke#: Phonetic Irken. Translation: my PAK *whirred* w[ith] possibilities...what to do?
(3) nake t'halketsunake itsator halkitsator me'tsu_jerokeitsanake f'torkerencathetsusetstu-: Phonetic Irken. Translation: [a]n[d] then it hit me, [we'd] join forces.
(4) Setsuhalkitsa: Irken goddess of death
(5) halkeen: one Irk day, equivalent to one Earth year
(6) diverth halkeen: half one Irk day, equivalent to six Earth months
(7) Head & Ring: Irken forms of measurement. A Head is a little more than a foot and a Ring is a little less than an inch. It's twenty-five Ring to the Head
(8) halketsu wel'okeumalierderu halketsulierpreth m'etsu-: Phonetic Irken. Translation: he would help me.
