Wow, I can't believe how many awesome reviews I got for the first chapter! You guys are fantastic, and are really keeping me going. Thank you so much! Now, we're on to Zim, and fire.
Element: Fire
Humor: Choleric
Associated traits: Restless, Aggressive, Impulsive, Ambitious
Zim liked fireflies. Some of the more backwoods humans called them "lightning bugs," but that wasn't a fitting name at all. It didn't roll off the tongue or carry an air of threatening punchiness the way that the word "firefly" did. Fireflies carried around explosive chemical reactions in their bellies! What could be cooler than that? Well, alright, maybe not explosive, per se, but they did produce light, and that was something that Zim could work with.
He set the Voot Cruiser down gently beneath a thick covering of evergreens. Normally Zim was a bit of an erratic parker because, let's face it, Irken ships could take a lot of abuse – but his cargo was particularly sensitive today and he couldn't risk damaging it prematurely. He tapped a few buttons as the bottom of the Cruiser scraped ground, sending a gentle bump up into his boots. Much better than that nose-dive off the pier last week.
It had turned out that his seat made an awful floatation device.
But anyway, that kind of screw-up wasn't going to happen today. Zim cast a glance over his shoulder, making sure that GIR was still settled in the back where he was supposed to be. The little robot was reading a board book about fish, his tiny metallic hands fumbling with the thick pages every time he reached the end of one.
"Are you ready to get out, GIR?" Zim demanded. The Voot shuttered into stillness around them as he powered the ship down, not wanting to attract undue attention. Everything beyond the windshield went completely dark as the headlights clicked off, leaving them only the glow of the instrument panel to see one another.
Long shadows fell on GIR's face from his outstuck eyes in the dimness. "I want to hold the jaaaarrr," he wailed, letting his board book fall the floor as he shot out a skinny arm to point at the object that was secured carefully beside Zim's seat.
Zim darted his gaze down to it. He threw his arms protectively over the glass container, complete with screw-top lid, before GIR could grab it.
"No, GIR, you can't hold the jar. This jar contains months of brilliant of research that I can't afford to have you eating."
"Aw. How did you know I was going to eat it?"
"I'm just that brilliant," Zim said, matter-of-factly, as he wrapped his fingers around the bottom of the jar and heaved it up into his arms. Normally he'd expect this crude human glass to feel cold and unpleasant against his chest, but the contents of the jar prevented that.
GIR tottered over to his side, reaching a tiny hand up and spreading it across the side of the container. At first Zim tensed, flattening his antenna against his head at GIR's approach, prepared to step back and away should his crazed robot try anything. Much to his surprise, GIR didn't.
"Teehee! It's warm! Like a biscuit!" GIR said, giggling. Zim let his antenna fall loose to the sides of his head, content that GIR wasn't in a destructive mood at this exact second.
"Yes. Like murderous, destructive biscuits...Come on, let's go."
The windshield of the Voot Cruiser snapped open at their approach, flooding the cockpit with the sticky smell of sap and wet, loamy air. Zim clambered out first, using a spider leg once or twice to catch his balance as he lowered himself down onto the woody ground without using his arms, the jar still held tightly to his chest.
It was a nice enough evening, he figured, for a filthy earth forest. The moon was out, casting its chalky, ambient glow across the jagged trees and fallen trunks that surrounded them. With every step Zim felt pine needles and pine cones and pine bark slide and crunch beneath his boots, often sticking to his heel with their horrible sap. GIR followed along behind, never in a straight line. Occasionally a whacking snap or rustle would sound behind him, and Zim would whip his head around in a panic, only to see that GIR had fallen down or broken a twig.
He was quite sure that there weren't many carnivores out here. Not any that he'd read about in that survival manual that Mrs. Bitters had given them, anyway. Still, he'd seen the bears and tigers and other huge-fanged things that lived at the zoo and that Dib said would love the chance to snack on something from another planet. Getting eaten by a stupid bear wouldn't have been much of an ending for an invader like himself. Bears probably didn't even have access to nanotechnology.
Zim might have almost been frightened if the jar he carried didn't cast a toasty glow ahead of them as they walked. The light was a little wavering and unsteady, like the flickering of a dying light bulb. It cast shadows that were constantly in motion, sending Zim on edge as he mistook them for some animal moving about in the underbrush.
Finally they came to a stop. Zim didn't pick this area for any particular reason – he just figured that they were far enough away from the Voot Cruiser by now. He brought his heels together, back stiff and straight, as he glanced around the clearing for anything unusual.
Any semblance of dignity that Zim might have had collapsed with him as GIR crashed into the back of his knees. They went tumbling to the ground together. Zim managed to keep the jar intact, clinging desperately to it as he fell, while GIR kicked around in the dirt.
"GIR! I am trying to execute a plan here!"
"What a coincidence! I'm trying to execute this caterpillar!" GIR held up a writhing worm that he must have found during the walk. Reeling away in disgust, Zim scooted across the forest floor before managing to pull himself to his feet.
"And now, GIR, observe my latest plan to destroy the human's precious nature!" Zim bellowed, throwing his hands above his head dramatically before bending over and unscrewing the lid of the jar. By now GIR had completely lost interest in that disgusting worm and was trying to stuff mud up into his feet.
Oh well. One day GIR would be able to look back on his memory circuits and remember fondly how he had been there when Zim rained flaming destruction down on the tri-county area.
Speaking of which.
Zim stared down at the opened jar. For a while it continued to glow waveringly. Then, slowly, pinpricks of light leaked out of the top, humming past as they beat their little wings. A few hovered near Zim's face and he ducked quickly out of the way, not particularly wanting to touch them. The glimmers moseyed on, sometimes flickering into darkness but blinking back into existence within a few seconds.
Finally, one of them landed on a branch not too far away.
The hunk of wood erupted into a mass of flame as if it had been soaked in kerosene.
"It works!" Zim barked, thrilled with himself, over the crackling of the burning tree. Another of the fireflies alighted on a patch of grass a little ways into the forest. A ring of fire exploded around it, spikes of hot orange licking up onto nearby trees and plants.
The air around them was beginning to wriggle and twitch with the heat. Like looking through water. GIR inched slowly closer to Zim as he cackled in triumph, flames spreading from firefly to firefly like a demented game of connect-the-dots.
"It's gettin' pretty hot," GIR said softly, backing up against Zim's thigh.
"Exactly!"
It was a fantastic spectacle. Zim planted his knuckles on his hips, reveling in the warmth of his destruction. His laughter mingled perfectly with the crackling of the burning forest. Trees popped and exploded like popcorn around them as the blaze grew white-hot, slicing into the midnight darkness and casting a scorching glow up toward the sky.
Zim took a deep breath, letting the beautiful smell of fire fill every pocket of air in his body. It was smoky and stinging, a smell that whiplashed him back to all that exploding and burning and ruining he'd gotten to do during Operation Impending Doom 1. Those had been real fires – melting causeways, crashing academies, bringing years of labor down to ash in hours.
Sure, sure, it had been on Irk. Whatever. Minor details. It was the quality of your destruction that mattered, not the location, right?
His fingers clenched and unclenched by his sides. The raw energy of the burning forest seemed to soak into him, ethereal, the moment hovering inside him. As weird and tenuous as the non-matter place that fire occupied. It wasn't solid, wasn't touchable or containable, but it existed nonetheless.
Animals started to flee around them – great flocks of birds abandoned their nests and shot up and away, squirrels chittered from branch to branch as the fire spread, and a fat raccoon tottered very near to them as it tried to get away.
GIR made as if to follow it, but Zim hooked a claw around his collar. It proved more difficult than he'd expected; sweat had started to pool inside of his gloves from the heat of the fire. Zim felt the tips of his antenna starting to curl against his head, the nerves inside itching uncomfortably.
As glorious as it was to watch the mighty earth trees crumble to ash and to see the filthy mammals run in horror from his brilliant fireflies, Zim was beginning to feel a little crawly.
Opening his eyes, squinting in the brightness, he cast about for the path back to the Voot cruiser. He could barely see past the fire by now. It had crept all around them into a spectacular arena of melding orange, flickering off into the distance like wavering mountains. Here and there he could make out the top of a tree that was still standing. Until flames snaked up to the highest branches and it collapsed in on itself into the orange-yellow sea, that is.
GIR butted his head up under Zim's armpit. His metal head was nearly hot enough to burn, but when Zim tried to step backwards his boot struck a smoldering patch of grass.
"Well, GIR, I think that we've basked in the glory of my success quite enough," Zim said. He felt his tunic starting to stick unpleasantly to his stomach as he inched slowly away from one wall of fire, only to have his back arch from another pang of heat.
They ought to be making their way back to the Voot, he decided. Zim snapped himself to attention, wrapping one hand tightly around GIR's wrist, wincing at the robot's hot steel skin.
"Yaay! We's like s'mores!" Gir squeaked.
"No, GIR. No camping foods," Zim mumbled back, twitching his eyes back and forth as he looked for a way through the flickering inferno. It was just so bright. Almost too much for his spectacular eyes to bear.
Zim tried to stare at the ground, at the narrowing path of grass remaining. It was difficult for him to drag his gaze away from his beautiful fire, but if he stared at it much longer his corneas might start to melt. Zim started walking faster, past the place where he'd set the jar. It was totally engulfed in flames by now.
They had to get away – and soon – or else they'd be nothing but two steaming puddles of failed invasion goo.
His boots skidded against the grass as he ran, slick with condensation from the heat. Here and there he would nearly fall, his innards clenching coldly as he managed to avoid falling head-first into the orange. Sweat was dripping distractingly down his antenna.
Which direction had he parked the Cruiser in? Over near that tree, maybe?
Panting, tightening his grip around GIR's wrist, Zim headed toward one of the few trees that were still standing. The little path that remained was closing in fast. Zim's eyes flicked often toward his goal, toward the little stand of trees where he'd parked the ship. It wasn't so far. If only he'd stop stumbling over smoldering logs or getting GIR's feet stuck on pieces of woody debris.
One of his fireflies was drifting lazily above the blaze, like an ember on its own. Zim half watched it, mesmerized, before it buzzed over to the black lace trees and lit them up. Within seconds, the place he'd been aiming for was camouflaged against the rest of the ruins.
Now he had no landmark.
Zim whipped his head around, lost amidst the sea of red. The sky had gone black above them with smoke thick like fog. No more stars to be seen. Only roiling orange and billowing, dusty blackness.
He tried to backtrack, stepping tentatively away, maybe find another trail to the Voot. Everywhere his feet touched fire. Everywhere was hot, moving, like being swallowed by a great monster. The burning forest itself was trying to digest them.
GIR pressed the side of his head up against Zim's hip as a spurt of flame licked toward them. "How do we get away?"
"Use your rockets!" Zim instructed. The heat itself was crushing them like a fog by now, so thick that Zim felt sure he could touch it. Everything was so bright. It was a struggle to see the dark sky at all because of all the brilliant flickering. Zim's eyes ached and he screwed them tightly shut as he grabbed GIR's shoulders.
"I can't," GIR squeaked.
"Why not? What's wrong with them?" Hot air was scorching painfully at Zim's lungs as he took quick and panicked breaths. Every instant they stood here was another instant that the fire moved in on them. His head was starting to swim, muddled by the thickness and the heat.
"They's overheatin'" said GIR simply, holding one foot out in front of him. Sparks hiccupped from the base before sputtering out onto the crispy grass, utterly useless.
"Oh sweet IRK."
Zim felt suddenly sick. Amidst the waffling air and blinding white ring of fire, an icy fluid was rising up in Zim's insides like mercury. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be trapped by his own ingenious destruction. Sure, he liked fire – loved it, in fact – but not when it was pressing in on all sides on he and GIR so unyielding.
There'd be nothing left of him but his Pak. It could withstand any temperatures. But not his squishy meat-body – it was fragile and finite. Perfectly burnable.
Maybe if he could –
But no. Zim scooped up GIR in his arms, yanking him away from the crawling flames and cringing as the hot metal pressed against his skin. It was getting harder to think now – his thoughts were wriggling and uneven enough, but the roaring of the blaze and the snapping cracking smashing of wood blocked out very sophisticated ideas.
He couldn't feel GIR's wriggling anymore. Everything was white and hot – scorching, melting, the surface of the sun so close. And then –
"You stupid alien!"
Geez.
What an unbelievable cruelty. Evidently Zim's Pak was malfunctioning, to make the voice of his eternal rival sound in his head during his last moments. This really sucked. Zim had hoped that if he was going to burn to death, at least he'd have the opportunity to relive all of his life's glorious victories.
Few though they'd been.
"Zim, you moron! Grab the rope!"
There was that voice again. Coming from above them. Zim opened his near-melted eyes, glancing up at the pinprick of dark sky left. In the middle of it dangled a steel wire, attached to nothing that Zim could make out. A blessing from nowhere.
Maybe this was how you got to the afterlife, who knew.
Zim reached up and grabbed the metal rope, GIR latching on around his neck with scorching arms. Winding it around his wrist, Zim gave the wire a single yank, wishing that the afterlife would make with the glorious rewards and banishing of pain and all that crap, because his skin was starting to feel a little crinkly.
Instead the rope yanked back.
In a flurry of motion, like a Pak leg retracting back into its slot, Zim felt them both being sucked up into the air. His innards shot down into his feet as gravity fought against the movement. Suddenly he was cool all over, nearly freezing, numb with the absence of burning. For a second or so.
And then the next thing he knew Zim felt pain all over as he was bundled head-over-boots onto some cold metal floor. GIR was latched suffocatingly around his neck, cutting off that cold, sweet air that tasted delicious like soda. The darkness all around them was complete and pressing.
Zim's first thought was of outer space.
His second was of those stupid boots rammed nearly into his face.
"Dear God Zim, you smell. I don't know if it's alien sweat or well-roasted alien skin or what, but if I have to get the ship's seats dry cleaned then you're going to pay for it," Dib was saying, tapping his boot against the steel floor.
With a motion that was as much flailing as anything, Zim managed to roll over onto his back. He stared up through the pinkish tinge of Tak's ship's windshield at the blinking stars beyond. It was difficult to tell which were real stars and which were places where he's scorched his retinas, but it was a relieving darkness at any rate.
"I did not need your help, infidel," Zim growled, through cracked lips and lungs that crinkled inside of him like paper.
Dib crouched down next to him, offensively close. "Infidel? That's a new one. Feeling religious, space-boy?"
"Religious? Hardly. As soon as I get the feeling back in my spine, I'm going to have your freakishly huge head vacuum-packed into a test tube as punishment for interrupting my perfectly-under-control forest burning project."
"I figured you were behind that fire. Saw it from the roof. Natural forest fires don't usually spread that fast, you know. Lightening bugs don't cause them, either."
"I know that. I was just trying to correct some of the mistakes that your stupid natural selection made. Only a human would be stupid enough to call something a firefly that can't even start a little blaze on its own."
Zim propped himself up on his elbows, glaring Dib down as seriously as he could with eyes that would barely focus and a head that felt overfull of water. Finally GIR let go of his neck, sliding down onto the floor of Tak's ship as if nothing was wrong and tottering over to an empty fast-food bag in the corner.
"Right." Dib rolled his eyes, infuriatingly. "But you owe me one now. I didn't let you get roasted like a green marshmallow. Score's one-fourteen to one-twenty now, just so you know."
With that, Dib stood back up to his full height, head nearly banging against the roof of the Irken-sized cockpit, and squished himself in behind the ship's control panel. Zim allowed himself a subtle peek out the glass. His glorious, ruinous fire shrank beneath them as the ship gained altitude, reduced to the flickering of a match amidst the hairy blackness of the forest.
Blargh, I don't like this one as much as I liked GIR's. This just feels a lot less…nuanced and subtle than GIR's chapter. I dunno, I guess Zim isn't very nuanced OR subtle, but still. Zim's still really difficult for me to write. It's hard for me to get inside of that weird head of his.
Dib's up next, though. He's earth. I personally would categorize myself as a very "earth" person, so maybe his will feel a little more natural, who knows. I'm still kicking around some ideas for Gaz/water. Lots of my peeps on Tumblr have made great suggestions involving ice, controlling rain, water levels in video games, and bad weather on an ocean/lake. My beautiful reviewers have also suggested ways to connect Gaz's emotional passivity to water, which is great too!
Nothing about Gaz's bit is quite set in stone yet. But maybe by the next chapter I'll have it better figured out. Otherwise, thanks so much for reading! I couldn't do it without your guys' support. Feel free to leave a review if something about this chapter didn't seem quite right, or if you actually liked it!
