#maneem

Submitted by Kazehana23: Zim wanting to be human days before his capture in Maneem?

He stared at the screen, watching the dim reflection of himself. It held so still, the reflection. Like a statue or a photograph. It hadn't moved for a very long time. Not since the screen had gone dark, after the Tallests had cut the transmission for the final time, hours ago.

Exiled.

A joke.

All his work. All his training. All his servitude.

Wasted.

Worthless.

A hollow feeling clenched in the pit of his spooch. The reflection didn't move, but he wondered how long it would be before it did. It couldn't be much longer. If it was still much longer, it would catch fire, or explode, or crumble into tiny pieces. The Irken in the reflection couldn't hold that much rage and stay still, Zim thought to himself. Maybe he could stand back and watch what it did. It would be interesting, he noted to himself, to see how it handled all the rage it had.

The antenna lifted, ever so slightly. There was a sound outside. An ice cream truck was droning a stupid little tune, and a zombie-like voice moaned, "You like ice cream. You like ice cream. You love it." He could hear the shouts and exclamations of nauseatingly excited little children, clamoring to shove their grubby little hands full of money at the ice cream truck and collect their sugary sweets.

Why.

Zim narrowed his eyes at the reflected Irken. How could it even think such a treasonous thought? Its eyes narrowed back, defiantly.

Why Irken? Why hatched to a race that has made sport of my existence?

His breath hissed between his teeth.

The hyumans are oblivious. Stupid. Dangerous. But they seem happier.

Why could Zim not be hyuman?

Pulled from Maneem chapter 7 “Scarred”

His eyes caught on the reflection of his claws, and his squeedly tightened. Harsh, pine green lines formed an intricate network of scars. He grabbed the sleeve of the sweater and pulled it up. The lines laced up his arm, becoming more jagged and irregular. Horrified, he ripped off the sweater, staring.

From neck to wrist to waist there was not an inch of clear skin. His hide was pitted and gashed, ripped and slashed by jagged, twisted, interwoven scars. How did this happen? What did this to—His eyes dilated, and a scream of terror ripped through the changing room.

…

Mikko cringed, and Tiana craned her neck. Della didn’t waste a second, but shoved past the security guard at the men’s changing room and followed the scream to Zim’s changing room. She rammed it open with her shoulder, and her heart melted.

The alien lay on the floor, curled in a little ball, arms circling his knees. His skin was a network of scars, and he shook. Without a second thought, she knelt and gathered him up in her arms, rocking him back and forth. His claws clutched at her shirt as mewling sounds escaped him.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and in the mirror, she spotted Dib. He stood behind her, taking in the scene in bewilderment.

Zim’s grip tightened, and he spoke in a small, frightened voice. “Make it stop.”

Della soothed, “Shhh, calm down, make what stop?”

He hid his face. “They’re hitting me.”

She bit her lip. “Who’s hitting you? What’s happening?”

"They are… the big mean ones. They pick me up and hit me on the wall. They hit me with ropes when I’m not fast. When I cry, they throw me in water."

Dib stood very still. Quietly, he murmured, “Get him out of here. I’ll cover the clothes, you can pay me later.”

Della nodded, and stood, cradling the alien. Refusing to dignify gawkers with so much as a glance, she beckoned the girls and left the store.

______________________________

It’s a little more difficult to answer from sections I wrote almost six years ago now, but I can guess what I was thinking.

I always thought Zim was pretty badly scarred, both physically and mentally. I know this can be chalked up to “That’s just the way cartoon characters dress,” but you never saw him change clothes in the show, or show any skin other than his face and head. I mean, not once did you see an inch of skin other than that. Why? Why the gloves ALL the time? Why the long sleeves ALL the time?

And long before Maneem I’d come to the conclusion that he’d been driven mad by Invader training, that it was probably a grueling process meant to turn children into soldiers by means of torture, breaking them, and killing off the ones who “Wouldn’t make it” or “Didn’t have it in them”. Obviously this is all headcanon and isn’t anything Jhonen-Vasquez-approved.

So I looked at Zim’s personality and I thought, in training, he would do all he could to survive, but he’s still Zim. He’s still that one that stands out, and is different, and screws up in the eyes of the Irken Empire. So chances are, he went through every level of punishment they had for a trainee. It’s very unusual to be punished via Morflar, but if a soldier shows continual disobedience, it may be required. Not all the Irkens punished this way survive, as many of them snap and run straight at the restrained Morflar, or into their flares, getting themselves caught. Zim snapped, but he didn’t move, all he did was assert who he was over and over and over again. He had to be carried out once a suitable time had passed because he wouldn’t move.

Traumatic things like this would be buried very deep in order to continue to survive and move on. He probably didn’t even realize how much of those experiences shaped his personality and how he approached things half-cocked and ready to blow at any trigger. I mean, look at some of his overblown reactions in the show. “DOG WITH MEAT!” or how he handled the idea of germs “Chewing at my squeedly spooch!” etc. Yes, again, can be chalked up to “That’s how cartoons behave.” but it’s also sometimes how trauma victims react to things.

So for the first time he really gets a look at his scarring, and is basically smacked in the face with what happened, that he’s buried for a pretty long time. And what comes out is the most vulnerable, terrified part of himself—even if it’s just for a little while. That’s not always the case, but for that moment he was vulnerable and needy.

One of those friends that has stuck around for a long time has prepared several responses to my previous note, and I could not help but post them since he has yet to get his own Tumblr...

 aww, you're welcome, you sick, twisted soul you

Fanfiction: It can make people who are upbeat and always look at the brightside meet people who see no hope at all until the very last second and make you suffer mental trauma you can never recover from...come join us, making an account is free.

My progression reading Maneem: "Ok...aww poor Zim...well thats...ok progress...wait...what the? Woah...WOAH...Jeez lady what...WHAT THE FU- Ok...back to good, this is fun, this is- OH GOD...WHAT KIND OF A PERSON- Ok, ok we're back to- JESUS GOD HELP ME- Oh what a nice moment there- BLOOD, BLOOD ALL OVER THE- Oh Zims so sweet with Dell-OH SWEET JESUS WHY?? *Deep breaths* .......Might as well message her."

Eventually my reading experiences just turned into "Ok you're gonna die...youre gonna get hurt badly...get hurt badly then die...die...die...you might live depending on her mood...will never be the same...might come out the other end without a limb...dead...dead...emotional trauma...dead...memory loss then emotional trauma then dead...and you'll be the one thats fine."

Then I met her (online) and it turned into "Ok so how can I stop this particular person from dying and suffering just a smidgeon less? And how can we kill this person more? Here's my list of possibilities with the subject"

Then I met her in person Me: "Oh you aren't so bad, where does all of this come from?" Her: "I...don't...know..."