#tallst

𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐘        𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒        𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌       𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐗𝐓               zim’s    lips    with    such    conviction    that    causes    𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣    𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜    to                SHUT                bug-like                optics                .                𝘍𝘐𝘕𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠      ,        𝘞𝘏𝘐𝘓𝘚𝘛        𝘖𝘗𝘌𝘕𝘐𝘕𝘎        𝘏𝘐𝘚        𝘌𝘠𝘌𝘚        ,               red    says        .  .  .  .        “        good    one        ,        ZIM        .  .  .  .        “        in    a    tone    that    𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗲𝘆𝘀    the    𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚    𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙚        ,        before    a    sigh    brushes    passed    thin    tiers        .        when    the    almighty    offers    an    explanation    its    slightly    more    civil                “        𝐓𝐇𝐄        𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋        𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒        𝐀𝐑𝐄        𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋       .  .  .  .        malfunctioned    from    your    existence    evaluation       ;        regardless        ,         we    have    to    take    their    wants        into    consideration        &        they’ve    𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲    𝗶𝘁    𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿    that    they    want    you    to    spend                𝘈    𝘊𝘌𝘓𝘌𝘉𝘙𝘈𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘠    𝘋𝘈𝘠    𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏    𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙    𝘛𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘌𝘚𝘛        .

               For a moment, all he did was blink in response to the taller’s ‘good one’ remark, not entirely sure of what he meant. Did he think he was joking? He tried to think about what he had said from a comedic standpoint. Yeah, okay, sure, that could have been pretty funny if he’d meant it as a joke. In fact, he was pretty sure he was a comedic genius, all without even trying to be. Wow, that was impressive. Of course, everything Zim did was impressive, but that was beside the point.

Perhaps his next scheme could include some sort of diabolical comedy show, but he’d have to think about that later, because as soon as he opened his mouth to reassure Red that he was not jesting, the Tallest continued, antennae twitching with misplaced discomfort at his words.

((Closed thread with @tallst))

Usually, communications with the Tallests were...limited to simple calls, typically requests or reports and not much else. However, this time Zim felt it was necessary to send in some samples to the Massive. He happened to notice an Irken benefit to the substance and felt perhaps it was worth further study. Normally Zim would look into it himself, but he was more focused on his latest and greatest plan. He figured it would be useful.

However, his mistake as rare as they may be, Zim wasn’t immune to them, was in asking GIR to ready the teleporter for when the Tallests picked up the call. Of course, it wouldn’t work during the call, and of course, Zim couldn’t just *direct* GIR and tell him how to make the teleporter work. 

After promising the Tallests he would call back, Zim hung up and went to fix the teleporter, but of course this wouldn’t be without yelling and screaming at GIR every step of the way. How dare he make a fool of him in front of the Tallests?! Zim hadn’t dwelt on the issue for too long, however, for as soon as he began to investigate the problem, the switch was suddenly thrown on, causing the teleporter to spit out sparks as it preemptively whirred to life.

Hal liked to consider herself strong.

Not in the physical sense, definitely not, her self defense could use a bit of work, normally composed of throwing an object at the offending person before fleeing on stick-like, hocked legs as fast as they could carry her.

Large though the Massive was, the ship was still a contained space. A space comprised of the same people who hated her guts and justifiably so. She was not so much brought to justice for her numerous crimes as she was currently being rewarded for them; with snacks and the companionship of the same tyrants who conquered her planet and exploited her people for resources. 

Far be it for the crew members to outright question their mighty leaders directly as to why they were treating the girl the way they were. No, they knew much better than that. There were other ways to get at her though, or so they had thought.

Childish insults never went very far, the tiny Vortian seemingly had a comeback for any scenario. Hell, the one person she trusted the most called her ‘Vortian filth’ on a daily basis. Name calling didn’t bother her. And so it escalated; tripping her in the halls, kicking her while she was down, taking her things, making her life hell any way they could outside the typically not-so-watchful eye of their rulers.

Hal was no snitch. Never had been. She could handle this herself, she just needed time and a plan. 

She couldn’t be expected to be around the Tallests all the time, and insisting upon it would only make them more suspicious. It was getting to the point where she longed for the day she could return to Earth. Her fellow crew members brought up everything from her brother’s possible death to her mother’s Entrops, topics that seemed to gut her until she was hollow inside. 

She could no longer make excuses for her consistently missing things, her sabotaged job, the fact it seemed like she was always ‘tripping and falling.’ Hal had stopped sleeping entirely, she couldn’t afford to leave herself open to more bullying at her weakest, instead opting to pace around her quarters or play games on her phone to distract herself from the need to rest. Plan. She needed a plan. She needed…

Curling up on the pile of pillows and blankets in the middle of the linoleum floor that served as a ‘bed’, she hadn’t realized how long it had been, seconds felt like hours, it could have even been mere minutes; she wouldn’t have known the difference. The familiar prescience of a slender figure looming close to her was not even enough to rouse her upright. Purple eyes seemed to gaze through him entirely, on the verge of tears.