Hmm this is my first Zgar, but no not really. Heh heh you'll see. it's a future fic. I know I
already wrote a future fic, but who's to say I can't write more then one.
As always my fics are 2 cups angst, a pinch of insanity, a dash of laughs, and add one
disclaimer for taste. Stir well. bake at 355 degrees. Don't own Zim, wish I did. flames will
be used to roast marshmallows. Enjoy!
Gutter roach.
A girl stands on the top of a run down building. All around her there are buildings
marked for demolition, then left forgotten. She believes in some ways the buildings are
like her. Abandoned, unloved, and proud. Her red golden flecked eyes search around her
for any sign of pursuit.. The blood red of her eyes, and their odd golden hues is not what
makes them unusual. They have no irises. Her spiky purple bangs hang in her eyes, and
she brushes them out of her face. Her hair is thick and spiky, but the ends curl up and
inward. To a stranger it would appear that she had died her hair with two streaks of black,
but they were free of the pony tail that drew back the rest of her hair. The two wirery
stands of curled hair rose to an alert position as she searched again for any sign that they
had found her.
Her skin is a pale ghostly white with soft hues of a light green accenting her features. Her
ears are small, as well as her nose. She is dressed with what ever she could find, but two
colors seems to show the most in her limited out fit. Black and red. She never knew why,
but she believed that those were the only suitable choices for her. Her ragged cotton coat
was black and had a hood that she only used during rain. She never did like rain. It and all
water felt almost painful. Her hands had fingerless gray cotton gloves gracing them, and
her feet had black boots that were scuffed and worn down. Her pants were black jeans
that were tight and in less then a year would be to small. Their knees were ripped, and
frayed. Her shirt was red, with one large black stripe wrapping around the middle. It was
way too large for her, and hung out under her jacket.
She shifted her sitting position and looked at the gray sky of the dawn. Far in the
distance the sun was rising on her city, and she too must rise and begin her fight for
survival. Her antennae pressed back against her head and she added them to the pony tail
of her hair. She picked up a faded red hat, and placed it roughly on her head. She stood
and brushed her cloths off. They were dirty. She could never keep them clean but, she did
her best with what she had. She picked up her back pack and as an after thought picked
up her stuffed green dog.
"Come-on grr we have to go." She spoke to it as if it could hear her. She had owned Grr
for as long as she could remember. It was the only thing of her parents left to her. He
looked almost real, accept for the patches that repaired holes in him. He wasn't the softest
toy. He was metallic feeling, but she loved him. Even at 13 years old would not give him
up. So she placed him in the tattered back pack that she wore, and walked to the edge of
the roof. She looked down. To any one else the 6 floor drop would be suicide Calmly she
leaped off. She hit the wall of the opposite building, flipped and bounced off the other
wall, then lunged to the opposite wall. she repeated this until she landed in the ally.
She tucked a few loose strands of her never cooperative hair back into it's pony tail,
then walked out of the ally. She made her way out of the distract of abandoned buildings
slowly towards the market area of the city. As she walked to the corner of the market she
heard a voice call out
"hey alien scum" She growled then turned prepared to pound whoever had the nerve to
call her scum, into a nightmare world from witch they would never escape. And then she
saw Mike.
Mike was a pale boy almost as pale as she was, and he too was orphaned. His spiky black
hair jutted out ever witch way, and was more untamable then hers. Three prominent
spikes started from his forehead and hung over his head like three rapiers. He wore black
pants, and boots that looked a little worse then hers, his shirt was a faded blue that looked
almost gray, and he wore a long black coat with large holes and ragged ends to top it all
ff. He had wild dreams about the paranormal, but no one ever believed him. He was
about a year younger then her, and had escaped the home about the same time as she had.
He was the only one who had not called her freak of nature at first sight. He had called
her an alien.
She, hating the fact that she had to be human, and believing hers was a species
better wiped off the face of the earth, found being an alien a better solution. So she said to
him
"yes, yes I am an alien, and you are Bigfoot." He muttered something about a beltsander
and a garage, then stuck out his hand to her and said
"My name is Mike, if you really are an alien I will have to expose you, you know." She
just rolled her eyes and shook his hand. They had been friends ever since.
"Hey Mia what's happening sis?" She growled. She hated how he called her sis. Then she
laughed, he was trying to get under her skin again. He always knew how to annoy her till
she felt ready to strangle him.
"Pathetic human I am no one's Sister!" She said in her most evil voice. Then she laughed
again and smiled at him, and he just shook his head and smiled back.
They had lived for many years on the street. The survived any way they could, and they
were both as thin as skeletons. Some times they spent days without eating, but when they
found any thing to share they did. After all if they had nothing at all they had each other.
They were not alone.
Mike had already scanned the area for anything worth taking. He stole. Not any thing big
or that would warrant missing, or get him noticed. He never stole from areas with
cameras. He had already been taken once. She had to help him escape again. It was not
fun. Now they were both more careful. Even though they knew they had
no future, they would each die before going back to homes that said they loved you to the
social workers then beat you and used you like slave, while spending your support money.
She never stole unless she had too, and nothing but food. She lived by finding machines
that were broken, fixing them, and then selling them to pawn shops. She seemed to have a
knack with machines. Mike had started moving towards a table that sold novelty toys.
She scouted for danger preparing to alert him with a high whistle if any one spotted him.
Then she saw them.
*Note I'm not saying all foster home are like that, or I know what homelessness is like,
but stuff dose happen and some people have nothing. Review don't review, half the time
you don't anyway.
already wrote a future fic, but who's to say I can't write more then one.
As always my fics are 2 cups angst, a pinch of insanity, a dash of laughs, and add one
disclaimer for taste. Stir well. bake at 355 degrees. Don't own Zim, wish I did. flames will
be used to roast marshmallows. Enjoy!
Gutter roach.
A girl stands on the top of a run down building. All around her there are buildings
marked for demolition, then left forgotten. She believes in some ways the buildings are
like her. Abandoned, unloved, and proud. Her red golden flecked eyes search around her
for any sign of pursuit.. The blood red of her eyes, and their odd golden hues is not what
makes them unusual. They have no irises. Her spiky purple bangs hang in her eyes, and
she brushes them out of her face. Her hair is thick and spiky, but the ends curl up and
inward. To a stranger it would appear that she had died her hair with two streaks of black,
but they were free of the pony tail that drew back the rest of her hair. The two wirery
stands of curled hair rose to an alert position as she searched again for any sign that they
had found her.
Her skin is a pale ghostly white with soft hues of a light green accenting her features. Her
ears are small, as well as her nose. She is dressed with what ever she could find, but two
colors seems to show the most in her limited out fit. Black and red. She never knew why,
but she believed that those were the only suitable choices for her. Her ragged cotton coat
was black and had a hood that she only used during rain. She never did like rain. It and all
water felt almost painful. Her hands had fingerless gray cotton gloves gracing them, and
her feet had black boots that were scuffed and worn down. Her pants were black jeans
that were tight and in less then a year would be to small. Their knees were ripped, and
frayed. Her shirt was red, with one large black stripe wrapping around the middle. It was
way too large for her, and hung out under her jacket.
She shifted her sitting position and looked at the gray sky of the dawn. Far in the
distance the sun was rising on her city, and she too must rise and begin her fight for
survival. Her antennae pressed back against her head and she added them to the pony tail
of her hair. She picked up a faded red hat, and placed it roughly on her head. She stood
and brushed her cloths off. They were dirty. She could never keep them clean but, she did
her best with what she had. She picked up her back pack and as an after thought picked
up her stuffed green dog.
"Come-on grr we have to go." She spoke to it as if it could hear her. She had owned Grr
for as long as she could remember. It was the only thing of her parents left to her. He
looked almost real, accept for the patches that repaired holes in him. He wasn't the softest
toy. He was metallic feeling, but she loved him. Even at 13 years old would not give him
up. So she placed him in the tattered back pack that she wore, and walked to the edge of
the roof. She looked down. To any one else the 6 floor drop would be suicide Calmly she
leaped off. She hit the wall of the opposite building, flipped and bounced off the other
wall, then lunged to the opposite wall. she repeated this until she landed in the ally.
She tucked a few loose strands of her never cooperative hair back into it's pony tail,
then walked out of the ally. She made her way out of the distract of abandoned buildings
slowly towards the market area of the city. As she walked to the corner of the market she
heard a voice call out
"hey alien scum" She growled then turned prepared to pound whoever had the nerve to
call her scum, into a nightmare world from witch they would never escape. And then she
saw Mike.
Mike was a pale boy almost as pale as she was, and he too was orphaned. His spiky black
hair jutted out ever witch way, and was more untamable then hers. Three prominent
spikes started from his forehead and hung over his head like three rapiers. He wore black
pants, and boots that looked a little worse then hers, his shirt was a faded blue that looked
almost gray, and he wore a long black coat with large holes and ragged ends to top it all
ff. He had wild dreams about the paranormal, but no one ever believed him. He was
about a year younger then her, and had escaped the home about the same time as she had.
He was the only one who had not called her freak of nature at first sight. He had called
her an alien.
She, hating the fact that she had to be human, and believing hers was a species
better wiped off the face of the earth, found being an alien a better solution. So she said to
him
"yes, yes I am an alien, and you are Bigfoot." He muttered something about a beltsander
and a garage, then stuck out his hand to her and said
"My name is Mike, if you really are an alien I will have to expose you, you know." She
just rolled her eyes and shook his hand. They had been friends ever since.
"Hey Mia what's happening sis?" She growled. She hated how he called her sis. Then she
laughed, he was trying to get under her skin again. He always knew how to annoy her till
she felt ready to strangle him.
"Pathetic human I am no one's Sister!" She said in her most evil voice. Then she laughed
again and smiled at him, and he just shook his head and smiled back.
They had lived for many years on the street. The survived any way they could, and they
were both as thin as skeletons. Some times they spent days without eating, but when they
found any thing to share they did. After all if they had nothing at all they had each other.
They were not alone.
Mike had already scanned the area for anything worth taking. He stole. Not any thing big
or that would warrant missing, or get him noticed. He never stole from areas with
cameras. He had already been taken once. She had to help him escape again. It was not
fun. Now they were both more careful. Even though they knew they had
no future, they would each die before going back to homes that said they loved you to the
social workers then beat you and used you like slave, while spending your support money.
She never stole unless she had too, and nothing but food. She lived by finding machines
that were broken, fixing them, and then selling them to pawn shops. She seemed to have a
knack with machines. Mike had started moving towards a table that sold novelty toys.
She scouted for danger preparing to alert him with a high whistle if any one spotted him.
Then she saw them.
*Note I'm not saying all foster home are like that, or I know what homelessness is like,
but stuff dose happen and some people have nothing. Review don't review, half the time
you don't anyway.