Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    Late Night Stroll

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    Invader Zim
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    Late Night Stroll

    Post by Invader Zim on Sat Jan 23, 2016 4:06 am

    Time: 8:00 PM
    Date: January 22, 0006

    The Barbershop was closed for the night. The underground base had little for Zim to do. Sure, he could tinker away and make weapons, but for once, he didn't...feel like it. What would the weapons do besides sit in his base and be unused? Idly, the Irken wished that big-headed stink weasel Dib had stayed. At least if Dib were around, Zim could return to his AMAZING rivalry and maybe even kick Dib's stupid face. The thought of visiting Skyler also cropped up, though Zim immediately dismissed it. Him, visit her? Go crawling over and beg for a fight like some pitiful, lonely cockroach?! Never! Absolutely not!

    With very little options available, the Irken strolled down the sidewalk of the city idly. Large, pinkish red eyes scoured every detail of the streets as he walked, noting everything. The buildings, the stores, the vehicles, the civilians shuffling by... Idle chatter on the wind that made his antennae flick about to catch anything important. But of course, there was not. Just a bunch of people walking around, taking up time in their little lives while they waited for the SUPERIOR Irken Invader to one day find a way to take this place over. Perhaps when he did, his Tallests would arrive at just the right time. Eh... The Irken's eyes narrowed, and he found that not even the thought of his Tallests could excite him. It had been nearly 7 years, after all. Grumbling lowly, Zim stared down at a discarded soda can. Sticky and covered with bugs that were attracted to the sweetness, Zim pulled his foot back and kicked outward.

    CLANG

    Boot connected against metal, and the can was hurtled further down the street, rolling to a stop in front of an alley. Take that, can of diabeetus!
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    Re: Late Night Stroll

    Post by Arro on Mon Jan 25, 2016 3:07 am

    Arro raced down the alley. His breath huffed out ahead of him in heavy bursts. Footsteps fell clumsily before his eyes, partially obscured by the warmth of each exhalation and then materializing like ghosts as the wind whisked away the steam. Big black boots, several pairs of them belonging to several people slammed into the wet cement. His talons clicked along behind them faster than their pistols chambered rounds.

    The closest tried to turn and swung the weapon towards his face, but it cost him his lead. He fired and Arro felt something cold slide along his flank as the night briefly illuminated, but recognition of it only came after he was already atop the man with his jaws sliding through his collarbone. There was a lot of noise; the yelling, the gurgling, the gun powder ignitions. Arro found he didn't notice much of it, in fact the silences rang louder. Like that of the man beneath him whose shriek had just cut off like a faucet. Suddenly he felt distanced as the sound replaced itself with gentle bubbling. He felt his focus ebb as the body relaxed and the footsteps faded. Arro reared up his dripping head. His pupils softened. He recalled the gunfight he'd interrupted in the outer district and the other gang members who'd fled. Their intended victims had escaped unharmed. So why was he still hounding them, wasn't this the ISO's jurisdiction?

    A window above him slammed and a bullet shot sparks off the fire escape to his left. Something clicked. Arro was running again and so was his prey. The running the running, endlessly the running. But they weren't faster than him, not flat out. Each space of uninterrupted alley ate up the distance they'd gained. For a minute there was nothing but boots pounding, puddles splashing and brass flying. The men made a lot of noise but Arro never did.

    Fifteen feet now from the second human, who'd the sense to find a spot to nestle into and fire from a steady stance. But the dumpster he leaned over was poor protection. Arro ducked as bullets whizzed overhead and he slammed into the hunk of metal. It shot forward from the base, knocking the man off his perch and sending him flying into a protruding wall. His skull cracked against bricks and he didn't move again.

    The last gunman had gained a lot of ground but Arro could hear him even as he vanished around a corner. They were a long way from the slums now, the alleys almost looked safe and the clutter was clearing. Ahead Arro could see the use of illumination increasing. Main street? Had they really come that far? Did the other hunter hope to disappear among late night shoppers?

    Arro slid out of the alley and gunfire crossed his path. Wrong, this one had waited too. He coasted the turn and bullets sliced through air that his body had passed through split-seconds earlier. Arro slid up against the wall of a dead-end street and shot off it's surface. Stupid, a bullet flew overhead and penetrated the bricks behind him, but lucky. Arro sailed over the stairs the man had crouched behind, one set of talons fell on the pistol, crushing it and the hand that held it. The other went through his right shoulder and the teeth went into the jugular.

    He half expected more, more running, more shooting, he was tensed and ready for it, but nothing came. His heart beat on, fast, fast, fast. Then slower, and slower. His eyes shifted in their sockets, seeking new threats, but growing sluggish as nothing further moved. He breathed slowly in and out through his free nostrils. Arro allowed himself to relax with the dying body this time and broke away from the man's throat. He stumbled back, still jumpy and looked around as if noticing his surroundings for the first time. There were illuminated signs in the distance, the subtle sound of distant conversation and roaming cars. A reminder of how much worse this had been about to be. How many had split off from that warehouse? Twelve? His thoughts began to accelerate as his adrenaline slackened.

    Arro grabbed the dead man by the ribcage as he ran a mental tally. These three runaways, the main group by the pier, the four on the roof. That should be all of them. He dropped the man in the dumpster he'd used to kill the second one - the gun as well, as it was fused to his left hand- backtracked to the third and then threw him and the second in as well, crushing the remaining weapons afterwards into inoperable shapes. The dumpster seemed the way these things were carried out, after all he'd found many dead creatures inside them in the past.

    He didn't think of eating them, that just wasn't something accepted by most humanoids and would shed a bad light on their deaths if found partially consumed. Arro walked with eyes focused on the cement as he turned down Main Street.

    Though it does feel like a waste...

    Something bumped into his head. More!? Arro sidestepped back, maw split in two, ready to lunge, and then abruptly stopped. His pupils softened to spheres, and the scales standing along his spine relaxed into place.

    "Ah sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going" he apologized breezily to the small green man, while trying to hide his bloody face. He was only vaguely cognizant of the sight he made, or the bullets laying under the surface of his skin, or that he'd perhaps met this small person before and was standing silently for too long.

    But he was aware that it was a good thing he was already red.
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    Re: Late Night Stroll

    Post by Invader Zim on Tue Jan 26, 2016 4:25 am

    One alien's lazy night was one dragon's daring adventure, it seems! While Zim idly contemplated his life, Arro had been in the chase of his life, valiantly escaping certain death, avoiding bullets and taking down his attackers. A shame that all of it had taken place in dark alleys, the sounds overtaken by the usual noise of the city. Of course, perhaps that was also a boon... Either way, when Arro found himself on main street, the Irken was blissfully unaware of any gang activities or shoot outs with dragons. He was, however, aware of the presence of someone else on the sidewalk. Someone with a much faster gait, and longer legs than Zim's. Somebody who's eyes were planted on the ground! When the two met on the sidewalk, Arro approaching too fast for a semi-distracted Irken to react, their heads bumped against each other soundly.

    Oh, not soundly because the contact was hard and their skulls pounded into each other. Soundly because as soon as Zim felt contact he had not initiated, the alien pulled back and hissed at the offender loudly. Antennae twitched about, the contact had been enough for the feelers to sense scales and pick up the smell of metal on the dragon. At the apology, Zim sneered and showed every single oddly shaped tooth in his mouth. The inherent reaction of the dragon, rather violent as if he was ready to attack, was shrugged off along with the metallic smell. "If you were REALLY sorry, you would have been watching where you were GOING!" Arms crossed over his chest, it took a moment for the Irken to remember who the dragon before him was. "Eh...?" As weird a creature Arro was, this sort of behavior was unlike him. Hiding his face, carelessly bumping into Zim on the street...Arro was a much more calm, careful sort of dragon whenever Zim had seen him.

    The Irken squinted, eyes scanning the dragon over. Blood blended in well with Arro's red scales, and so went unnoticed, and any wounds were pretty much expected on a big scaly thing like Arro. His insectoid eyes found Arro's wings and he jabbed a gloved fingertip in their direction. "Why are you walking on a sidewalk anyway?! Can't you fly?"
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    Re: Late Night Stroll

    Post by Arro on Wed Jan 27, 2016 3:29 am

    Arro's thoughts were still devoted to the night's prior events, even as he spoke his apology. In a moment he would have been on his way if not for Zim's stunning proposition of a logical fallacy, which stuck him to the cement via it's cryptic excellence. Not quite finished transitioning into a state capable of navigating conversation, it took Arro a couple tries running the question back to himself before he realized he hadn't misheard, rather it just didn't make sense.

    If I was really sorry... would have watched where, would've been watching... Sorry for what again?

    "Uh, Sure?" he masterfully rumbled. Wondering if he had just mistakenly admitted to possessing future sight and mourning the passing of a perfect opportunity for a witty retort.

    Later, later... he thought as he ceased his pointless fiddling. It wasn't his sport he'd reflexively been trying to avoid divulging but rather the staring someone covered in protein matter usually received. Arro was rarely self conscious but being gawked at by new arrivals in the sanctuary had gradually worn on him. No reaction came to him from Zim however and logic reminded him there was no such thing as stealthily washing his face under a streetlight.

    Discretion abandoned, Arro swiped a long tongue over his snout to clear away some of the grime as Zim looked him over. He thrummed minutely, it tasted undeniably pleasant.

    "Well..." Arro raised a limb, moving to conclude the encounter, but was barred by the sudden intrusion of a latex swaddled finger into his air space.

    "Why are you walking on a sidewalk anyway?! Can't you fly?"


    He paused, focusing on the digit Zim had thrust into air and grinned a little. That was an amusing thing to notice given the circumstances.

    "Wings can't take you everywhere,"
    he replied frankly. Such as warehouses and tight claustrophobic alleyways.

    As he spoke he raised his vast appendages in emphasis, and immediately regretted it.

    "Shhhsst!" Arro winced. A strained hiss escaped clenched jaws and he physically recoiled a step backwards. The signs that his body had run out of adrenaline were painful ones. Blood meant to flex the sheath of pectoral muscle encompassing most of his ribs instead leaked through a small puncture wound near his right wing shoulder. He tightened his jaws and tentatively flexed it again. The wing did not want to unfurl.

    "Thakt, why do the small things always have the biggest bite?"
    he grunted while attempting to twist his head around and examine the entry wound. Scales did a fine job of hiding bullet holes but this one could clearly be discerned by a twisted knot of frayed keratin spiraling around the wound. Based on the angle it had to have come from one of the ricocheted rounds. The muscle prevented it from penetrating deeply but it would be a bad idea to attempt anything other than gliding while it was in there. Experience told him it also just so happened to have landed in that favored sweet spot that he couldn't reach a talon into.
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    Re: Late Night Stroll

    Post by Invader Zim on Thu Jan 28, 2016 3:58 pm

    Sure? That was...not...expected. The feelers atop Zim's head twitched about as he seemed to be recalculating how to respond. Most people just sorta...yelled. He didn't usually get an agreement like that, especially so casually... Almost as if the dragon was as confused as Zim himself was. Well! No use letting Arro realize he'd been stumped! Both fists planted into his own hips securely, Zim stood tall before the dragon. Well..."tall" as you can be when you are short like he was. "...Yes! So...we're in AGREEMENT!" The Irken nodded to himself. "Good! Great of you to see reason, dragon. Others could really LEARN by your example!" Though anybody that took lessons from Arro would hopefully not replicate Arro's action of licking his own face. Zim grimaced, muscles tensing even more as Arro's licking had actually taken off a layer of...something! Filth no doubt. Zim leaned back slightly, out of reach from that dastardly tongue. It seems the dragon was ready to take off, but Zim was not finished with him! No sir, not until he got an answer.

    The insectoid alien stared back at Arro with attentive eyes, scrutinizing. "Hm..." The Irken hummed in thought. In retrospect, the dragon had a point... Zim was in possession of a spaceship after all, as well as giant robotic legs. Were they used at all for transportation? Seeing how the small alien was on foot...the answer was obvious. One hand cusped his own chin, rubbing lightly in thought before the Irken nodded to himself. "Alright that was a good answer." Arro moved, as if to raise his wings like a flag now that attention had been drawn to them, only to jerk backwards and call out as if injured! Zim took a step back for himself, squinting an eye as he took a closer look at the injured dragon. Blood began to drip down onto the sidewalk, and Zim followed the trail to find a wound of some kind on Arro's shoulder. Small, and very close to his wing. No wonder he wasn't flying!

    "Because the small things go unnoticed!" He commented, even though the question was likely rhetorical. It made sense to him, though. If Arro's wing had been ripped off at the socket, he would have immediately noticed it and probably made a stop at that hospital. But if he had a little wound like this...the dragon probably ignored it 'til realizing he'd been hit. "Hm..." The Irken stepped closer to investigate, though he kept his body an even distance from Arro's scales. The entry wound tore the scales around it, making for quite a messy looking wound in his opinion. Not very deep, but the location of it was unfortunate. So close to the muscles, and the damage to the surface of his scales meant this thing was stinging. But perhaps the weirdest detail of all...was that this didn't look to be a wound Arro had received while hunting.

    Though creatures of all kind lived on the Breach, they were usually armed with the typical things. Teeth, claws, the works. This wound though... A finger hovered above the wound, tempted to poke and prod though Zim did neither. This wound didn't look to be the work of a prey animal... Zim took a big step back and folded his arms behind his back like a soldier at attention. His tongue clicked in his mouth. "Tsk! What did you do to yourself, dragon?"
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    Re: Late Night Stroll

    Post by Arro on Tue Mar 22, 2016 1:25 am

    As Zim spoke Arro strained against his own bulk, twisting in spite of anatomy towards the bleeding depression with shuffling circling steps.

    "Because the small things go unnoticed!"

    He flicked an eye downward, looking a little more closely at the tiny humanoid. He wasn't sure why it seemed like such a weird thing for Zim to say. He'd only really thought of scale in terms of other drai before, and in that world he was the small one. The unnoticed, not the one who didn't notice things. The situation had never reasserted itself since coming to the breach. He still had to remind himself on occasion that here he was big regardless of whether or not he felt it, and to take that into account in a fight or when rushing out into streets.

    "Not by me,"
    he grunted, "Well... not typically."

    Well shixt, now he was sorry.

    Arro grimaced, tearing his eyes from Zim, he renewed his focus on the offending bullet like it was one last enemy to slay. Then with a lunge he doubled back on himself. His teeth brushing ineffectually against the smooth scalloped scales. He fought to gain some purchase against his own armor, then licked the wound in conciliation when that failed. Unfortunately, lacking the dexterity to actually hook into the puncture wound meant all his tongue did was clean the entry point and soak up a bit of lead.

    Not by me...

    Though that wasn't quite true. He had deliberately blocked some background information from meddling with his concentration while chasing the men down. There was no chance of him dodging something like the wound he'd received in such tight confines, so the best option at the time had been to leave any errant damage sustained in the back of his mind for later while he focused instead on the bullets funneling towards his face. But regardless of whatever pact he'd made with his future self he still felt dissatisfied for screwing up so frivolously. Especially considering the shoddy marksmanship. If there hadn't been people in the surrounding buildings he would have flooded the area with fire rather than go down into the restricting alleyway, but being that cities were flammable and crammed to bursting with people that option had never been on the table. There was also a nagging voice in the back of his head that told him he liked it better that way... with risk. Too easy otherwise, there was no thrill, and a little bleeding... Well he'd bled worse, and for lesser causes.

    The dragon swatted his tail against the sidewalk to capitalize his self annoyance, or maybe clear his head.

    "Tsk! What did you do to yourself, dragon?"

    Arro looked down a second time, regarding Zim carefully, and then sighed.

    "Well, you piss off the right people they'll give you presents. Problem is they must not talk to each other because they always get me the same thing..."

    A proposition crossed his mind then. Arro hadn't the faintest idea how Zim would react to it, but he was in one of those 'screw-it' kind of moods, "It's a bullet, but it isn't deep... would you remove it? You'd be saving me a long walk."


    Last edited by Arro on Tue Mar 29, 2016 10:45 pm; edited 3 times in total (Reason for editing : tidying up)
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    Re: Late Night Stroll

    Post by Invader Zim on Tue Mar 22, 2016 5:37 pm

    Hm, it was a shame that Zim wasn't in the habit of carrying around sedatives or pain relievers. From the way Arro's muscles kept tensing, body seizing, he had to be in deep pain. The Irken's kernel of wisdom given, Arro seemed to take a deeper look at him after he said it. An antennae quirked high up in the air, a brow arching up to go with it as his eye squinted at him. Just what were you looking at like that, HM? "So, your attention has slipped over time!" Quite an oversight, for shame. Of course, the act of running out of an alley probably had a hand in that. Or, well...a claw?

    Suddenly, the dragon made like an ouroboros! Sidestepping out of the way, the small alien observed curiously. For a moment, he thought the dragon was attempting to eat himself! What a gruesome scene that'd be, huh? It took a spare bit of thought and attention to realize what he was doing. Teeth gnashed against the scales, ever so close and yet so far away from the root of the wound. It reminded him of the way a dog would attempt to lick and bite at itself. Aside from a few licks to clean the wound, he got nowhere fast. Such was the life of a dragon! Powerful limbs, yet with limited dexterity and flexibility. Eventually, Arro had given up. Zim had half a mind to leave him behind, but in the end he didn't have much better to do... And he really was quite curious about how Arro had become so wounded in the first place.

    At the answer that was given, the Irken showed off every tooth in his mouth and let out something of a cross between a cackle and an honest laugh. It came out boisterously, either way. "HA! Oh... I know what that is like, dragon! Sometimes I GIVE the presents and...sometimes I receive them." His lip curled, preferring to remember the little 'presents' he had given. A shame Arro couldn't return this gift and exchange it. Alas... Not everybody would be as thoughtful and inventive as Zim. Simple metal bullets...peh!

    Curiosity sated, he almost turned to leave. A hand was raised, as if to wave the dragon away and go about his business, but then Arro gave the most... interesting proposal. Remove the bullet? His large insectoid eyes blinked once, before looking down upon the wound. He scanned it, looking over the rumpled scales and the entry wound, before glancing down at his own hands. Hm... A shame they could not go back to his base and do this, a few tests on this dragon would be interesting but! It wouldn't be a secret base anymore. A thoughtful hum escaped him, hands reaching back inside of his PAK to pull out some important gears. Two yellow gloves, each pulled over his already gloved hands. A pair of green goggles that fit snugly over his face and completely covered his eyes. His twice over gloved fingers wriggled before them both, a manic grin on Zim's bright green face.

    "Alright, dragon! I can remove this bullet!" He had the ability, the skill, and the dexterity for it after all! However... "What will ZIM get out of this though? Hm?" The little alien only gave Arro perhaps a second of thought before he glanced around their surroundings and piped up again. "HM...should we move into an ALLEY?" There was a small gathering of citizens about themselves, people going about their daily lives who only rubbernecked for a moment on the happenings of a dragon and a little alien. It didn't seem quite like the place to do a bit of bullet removal.
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    Re: Late Night Stroll

    Post by Arro on Mon Apr 04, 2016 2:02 am

    "HA! Oh... I know what that is like, dragon! Sometimes I GIVE the presents and...sometimes I receive them."

    Arro scratched the inside of an ear with a pinky claw.

    Loud...

    The irken almost turned to leave, they shared a limited appreciation of small talk, but his proposal caught him off guard it seemed and elicited an about-face. The wound was inspected anew, and from behind the alien's back materialized a new pair of some strapping shiny gloves and sleek medical goggles to match. Gloves upon gloves! Zim snapped them on over his first pair with glee and wiggled the tiny appendages wormishly. His excited grin was consuming a painful amount of face.

    Arro transitioned into a long drawn out sidelong glance, he fidgeted, rubbing the back of a heel with his other foot... "Careful... there's birds."

    "Alright, dragon! I can remove this bullet! What will ZIM get out of this though? Hm?"

    He perked up. What would Zim get? Well wasn't he quick on the uptake. He hummed. Arro hadn't even thought of it, the task seemed too mundane. Mundane, to him at least. Like picking scale mites. In reality he guessed he really didn't know how often it was others had to deal with cleaning shrapnel though, or scale mites.

    He huffed, amused. "A bit of wet lead. I suppose I can also toss in a favor of lesser or equal value. To be redeemed at a later date, I still have other unfinished business tonight sorry to say."

    Zim switched subjects though, prepping for work must have caused him to notice the onlookers.
    "HM...should we move into an ALLEY?"

    Arro slowly looked around at the small but growing group of dawdlers who'd paused to steal glances their way. Most abruptly quickened their step as he met their gaze, the illusion of their stealth broken, others hurriedly pulled out phones to excuse their presence. He grunted, "Yeah, probably," and turned back down the alley he'd just emerged from. He didn't care about an audience, but the idea that they truly thought they were being discrete or that they had to be irritated him.

    What few people there were didn't last long luckily. The stragglers dispersed as they left, they'd watch the odd pair under the imaginary safety of streetlights but they weren't dumb enough in their own minds to follow such strangers into an alleyway.

    Arro eyed the spot behind the stairwell as he passed it, a light spattering of something dark and wet lay in it's shadow. Only the inevitable misting, and unnoticeable unless you knew where to look, he was nothing if not precise. He enjoyed that bit.

    "Are you out shopping tonight as well? I can't imagine you going in for any of these window displays," he said. Chatting for idle distraction. He turned one more corner to put them out of sight of passerby's but within earshot of raised voices. Arro plopped down then on the cleanest patch of cement he could spot, folding his limbs up beneath him and putting the wound within Zim's arm's reach.
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    Re: Late Night Stroll

    Post by Invader Zim on Tue Apr 05, 2016 5:50 pm

    Arro's discomfort was easily overlooked, as was typical for the Irken. He was more focused on getting himself properly situated and equipped. You never know how many germs a dragon may have! Speaking of said dragon, he spoke up with the most curious of warnings. "Birds?" Insectoid eyes blinked at the dragon before turning skyward, squinting through his goggles in search of any feathered fowls. At this time of day, the only birds that would be flying about were the nocturnal kind. Not finding any of them in his line of vision, the Irken let out a biting laugh and turned back to the dragon with a smug grin. "No bird could make off with ME, dragon!" Such an odd worry to have! As if he could be carried away like some crunchy snack in a bird's beak...

    An offer of wet lead earned Arro an irritated squint, if he could see it through the thick glass of his goggles, while the favor elicited perked antennae. "Hm!" Letting out a hum of his own, the Irken laced his fingers together, pondering. The favor of a dragon could be quite useful. As far as big scaly beasts go, Zim had seen bigger, but Arro still seemed to be a strong one. A bullet in the wing and he was still kicking. Zim was no doubt MUCH stronger, but a little extra muscle might be nice... Especially the kind with sharp teeth and claws. After a few moments of deliberation, his hands clapped together, the sound muffled by two pairs of gloves. "It is a deal! Zim will remove the bullet, and you will owe the GREAT AND MIGHTY ZIM...a favor!" After a pause, he added, "To be USED at a later date!" Arro had other business, and Zim didn't have much use for a favor yet.

    After drawing attention to the pedestrians around them, Arro regarded them and grunted an agreement. Zim stole his own glances at the crowd, letting out a scoff at the sight of little gadgets in some of their hands. Pah! Such useless and TINY little devices...this was why the PAK was so much better! PAKs had much more uses than those little squares. Turning on a heel, the small green alien marched down the alley, only about a foot behind Arro. Following diligently and with both hands by his side like a true soldier, Zim drew in a hiss of air through his teeth. "Tsk! Nothing in this district holds ANY use for Zim!" Perhaps a light exaggeration, as Njorth's potions held interest, and Jo had mechanical doodads she could assist him with perhaps. Waving a hand dismissively at the thought of buying some item in the windows here, Zim huffed. "I was merely..." Bored? Trying to find something to do? "...scouting the area for any sign of trouble! Something strange happened in the City several months ago, and I don't think there was ANY explanation for it!" There, that was reasonable. In fact, maybe after tending to this bullet wound, Zim could actually try and learn what had caused the insects to descend on people in such a disgusting display.

    Ugh, this was why Zim preferred to creepy along alley walls rather then skulk on the ground...it was absolutely filthy down here! Perhaps not the most sanitary of places to tend a wound, but Arro could lick it clean or something.  The dragon seemed to find a clean spot to rest, folding himself onto the ground and putting the injured area where Zim could better see it. He advanced, gloved fingers lightly roaming over scales before seeming to circle the injured area. Zim prodded the exit wound lightly, carefully watching Arro's reaction for any sign of pain. Didn't wanna just thrust his hand in there and earn a surprised kick to the face or something! True to the dragon's word, the bullet was not too deep. Though he doubted if even his own fingers could reach down and pluck the bullet out as if it were a mere thorn. This may call for the use of an instrument...

    Holding a finger to the dragon, gesturing for him to wait a moment, the Irken's attention went to his PAK. Searching around inside, he browsed through the contents and mumbled under his breath. "No no no...too sharp... That has a shark in it, not useful... Scalpel, scalpel...aha!" From the recesses of his PAK, the Irken withdrew a pair of medical forceps! He squeezed the handle, the ends of the instrument clacking together noisily as Zim waited for Arro's verdict on the use of it on his scaly body.
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    Re: Late Night Stroll

    Post by Arro on Fri Apr 15, 2016 2:29 am

    Arro nodded, pleased that Zim agreed to help. Traveling across the city to find Hraktl would be too big a waste of time. Especially when judging by his equipment, Zim was always prepared for things like this.

    "Strange?" he drawled curiously. In this city normalcy was practically a foreign concept, what was so bizarre that it drove Zim out to walk and ponder?
    "Was this the event featuring the giant sentient vines, or something more recent? As you can imagine, I tend to go quite awhile without passing near portal city or the sanctuary, so I may be a bit out of the loop."

    He absentmindedly scratched a divot into the cement as he spoke, his thoughts wandering through the list of odd things that had happened lately to the breach's primary urban center. Zim's hands scanned the wound a second time. Testing it a bit with a light prod and appraising him for a reaction. Arro glanced over his shoulder and shrugged, at the moment all he could feel was the throbbing in his side, and he'd done this enough times by now to be used to what would come next. Flinching and snapping at Zim wouldn't be in either of their best interests.

    Zim thought a moment, held up a finger, and rummaged through his mechanical backpack. Seeking something better suited to the task than fingers, he thumbed over several strange sounding things and maybe a fish before eventually pulling out something resembling a slender metal beak. He clacked the sterile tongs experimentally and looked back at him with a question in his eyes. Arro momentarily felt a prick of apprehension crawl along his spine at the sight of the cold metal instrument but it passed just as swiftly.

    Still better than a bird's beak.

    Arro exhaled and stretched out a bit, "Okay," he said, staring down the brick wall in front of him "Do it."
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    Re: Late Night Stroll

    Post by Invader Zim on Sun Apr 17, 2016 6:26 am

    "Yes, strange!" Zim confirmed, in his usual Zimmy way. With a curt tone and an arched brow, as if inquiring if he had stuttered. "Sentient vines?" His antennae quirked about atop his head, twitching this way and that as he nibbled his lower lip. While the Irken had heard perhaps the bare minimum on an exploit with vines, those things weren't involved with what he was talking about. "No no, these were not VINES!" The Irken leaned ever so closer, insectoid eyes darting about behind his goggles. No sign of any eavesdroppers... Zim spoke through the corner of his mouth in a strained and harsh whisper, "It was nearly a year ago, in this very CITY! I was minding my own business, and checking on my shop when I heard SCREAMS! Zim looked outside of the window, and saw CHAOS in the streets! Congealing pus covered the sidewalks! People were swarmed and attacked by insects, and there was a HORRIBLE smell!" So horrible! Ugh, it took forever to get the gore and pus scrubbed off of his door and windows...

    Stepping back out of Arro's space, a deep shiver seemed to work its way up his spine. His teeth clacked together before he stuck his tongue out in supreme displeasure. "Zim closed the shop for a while, remained sealed inside until whatever IT was, passed! The bugs had moved on! People who were attacked, also moved on! And the city refreshed itself...but there was never any WORD about what MADE those insects go crazy!" Perhaps there was something in the pus? Or perhaps the bugs were just angry at people. You could never tell with those little insects.

    Arro's pain tolerance proved to be...well, pretty alright. Touching his wound earned Zim a shrug and a small glance, nothing more or less. Zim was no Doctor...but that seemed to be a satisfactory reaction. The dragon still had feeling in this area, but the Irken's attempts to get the bullet out weren't going to end with Zim trying to laser out of the belly of a beast. Not too shabby, huh?

    Wielding the forceps, Zim stared Arro down as he stretched himself out like a tired cat. His scaly body was almost relaxed against the cement, and his eyes were sent to the very fascinating brick wall. The dragon seemed to be steeling himself for the procedure, before giving the final okay. With a nod (even though Arro couldn't see it) Zim stepped closer and reached the tips of his instrument into the wound. Grimacing lightly, his wormy tongue stuck out with effort as the small alien peered down into the wound. As careful as a man working to defuse a bomb, the ends of the forceps carefully reached down into the wound, before reaching the offensive object. Squeezing the handles, the ends of the forceps squeezed between muscle and lead, clamping shut around the bullet. He squeezed the handles together, until it felt that he got a snug and firm grasp on the bullet. Slow yet confident, Zim pulled up on the forceps. A grin slowly stretched across his face as more of the forceps tips lifted out of the wound until finally...

    Fwop!

    With one last tug, Zim stood there with a blood covered bullet clamped between his forceps. Moving to hold the handles together with one hand, the Irken held his other hand out as he puffed his chest out, taking on a rather boastful pose. "It is done!" Zim let out a short, but still very biting and loud chuckle as he grinned back at Arro. "How lucky for you that I, Zim, was here to help! Nobody else would have taken this thing out so swiftly! So easily!" His gaze directed to the bullet, head cocking to the side owlishly as he inspected the metal. "Hm!" How funny that something so small could be so incapacitating... Well, bullet-free though the dragon was, he still had an open wound on his side. Zim's eyes left the lead to eye the bullet wound. "Are you going to...lick it clean?"
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    Re: Late Night Stroll

    Post by Arro on Tue May 31, 2016 2:58 am

    "Hmm" Arro sighed, "It's unfortunate but most of us are creatures of habit, it's easy to slip into the old patterns after a crisis is averted. Asking questions can be hard when you suspect the answers might lead you to even darker places before you'll see the light again."

    He wasn't familiar with the event Zim described but he'd seen similar fallout before. An almost instinctual self destructive habit seemingly found in everything from drai to men to lions to rats. Because most of the time things would be alright after a crisis it becomes a fight against nature to change for a future payoff when the winds finally do shift. The lure of instant satisfaction, of doing nothing and relaxing into routine, was always there and so often stronger.  

    Cold metal slid into his thoughts. It felt more like the forceps had gone straight through to his guts rather than the muscle's surface. The icy shock faded once the implement was subjected to his higher than average body temperature, subsiding into a dull persistent throbbing sensation that somehow managed to fill his entire body. Why did he think this would be better than the crows again? Cleanliness?

    He grunted but swallowed and buried the twinge of discomfort.  

    "Keep looking into it" he said, eyeing his talons as they dug into the degraded cement. "Maybe you'll find something important. In my experience when you think something's wrong it often - rmphf - is."

    Arro grunted again mid-sentence as the throbbing ache evaporated. A sudden immense wave of relief flooded his system, washing out tension he hadn't even been aware of carrying. He slackened and rumbled appreciatively, looking over his shoulder at the innocuous bit of lead that he hadn't even realized had been keeping him so wound up.

    He sniffed the dark bloody lump, deeply red, it smelled strongly of himself but the poisonous metal was definitely there. Tangy, sharp and acrid. Arro snorted away the scent. He turned and stretched out lithe and long. Gingerly at first but with increasing boldness he raised the wing to scratch at the rooftops, casting the back alleys in shadows of pitch black.

    Arro thrummed like a cat in a sun patch, pleased. Then cradled the wing back to his breast to look over the wound himself.

    "It is done!" Zim let out a short, but still very biting and loud chuckle as he grinned back at Arro. "How lucky for you that I, Zim, was here to help! Nobody else would have taken this thing out so swiftly! So easily!"

    "Are you going to...lick it clean?"

    Arro broke off his rumbling and turned it into a vigorous nod, agreeing to both statements. He doubled back on himself again as he had once before. Craning his neck and darting out the long sandpaper tongue to swipe away bits of his own frayed flesh and freshly oozing blood. It was gulped down quickly to clear his esophagus and then he cracked his jaws wide open for the finishing touch.

    His throat visibly expanded as rarely seen tubes at the back of the mouth filled with something invisible. A gas crackled and ignited into flame as it flowed past his teeth. The burst of fire that followed was an abrupt blinding light in the darkness but it faded gently into a tightly controlled stream. Arro lathered it like water over the bullet hole which reacted almost supernaturally to something that should have caused great pain. While the surgical implements had caused him to inwardly balk his body barely seemed to acknowledge this. Perhaps it was used to it or biologically predisposed to treating fire as a balm rather than a weapon. Either way, the wound quickly blistered and scabbed over, sealing itself off and simultaneously destroying any bacteria that may have entered during it's brief existence.

    Arro cocked his head from side to side, and gave it a last cursory swipe of the tongue. Then he rounded on Zim, shoulders scything, massive and swift, he advanced on the smaller being and delved forehead first into a carefully controlled headbutt. A tiny but audible thud popped as they -like it or not- collided head on. Arro then retreated, surrendering the alien his personal space and looked down on Zim to say his piece in a more universal manner.

    "Thank you!" he thrummed in a rolling wave, vibrating contentment that radiated out into the alley and could be felt in the soles of your feet.

    The dragon stretched his wings out again to the roof tops, this time clenching down tightly and heaving himself into the air to hang against the wall. "I'm sorry I can't linger, but when you want that favor just take the elevator up to the roof of the tallest building on this street. I fly by every first sunday morning of the month. I'll see you there."

    That was easy right?

    With that, Arro hauled himself over the building and out of sight. But vigorous flapping could soon be heard fading into the blackness. He'd no time to spare himself any rest, and with several rows through the city sky was already well on his way back to the docks to finish the night's work.
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    Re: Late Night Stroll

    Post by Invader Zim on Wed Jun 08, 2016 3:08 am

    Hmm... The dragon may have had a point. Once disasters were said and done, the aftermath repaired, how many people decided to investigate further? At times, there was simply nothing else to discover. The tentacle God disappeared, or the evil virus vanished, leaving no trace or lead to follow. As far as the Irken was aware, there was pretty much nothing to find for a lead or even hints to a perpetrator! What was the use of asking questions when there would be no answers? Or, as Arro said...the answer might be horrifying. "Mmm..." Zim grumbled under his breath. "What you say makes sense, dragon. But no matter how bad the answer is, I'd like to demand it all the same!" Blowing people up outside of his shop was very inconvenient. Besides, it might be nice to have a challenge...

    Digging for the offensive object with his forceps, Arro seemed to be doing good for a dragon with a metal instrument sticking out of his scales. Claws dug into the cement, he grumbled lowly, but there was no biting and snapping like Zim had feared. What a good patient! Too bad he didn't carry lollipops. At the same time, the dragon insisted that he trust his superior Irken instincts. Zim nodded in firm agreement. "Yes, you are right! Perhaps if I dig deep enough, I can find answers and keep it from happening again!" He paused to shrug, an action that might not be advisable with two hands working on a wound. "Or at least learn why bugs and exploding BODIES of all things..." As far as he could tell, none of it had served any purpose. And there was nothing more wasteful than a scheme with no purpose!

    Finally, the bullet was dislodged. Freed from Arro's plump muscle system! Using those forceps, he held it so that the rusty colored dragon could smell it at his leisure. Once he had his fill, Zim reached into his PAK to withdraw a glass tube with the Irken Insignia printed onto it. He dropped the bullet inside and closed the tube up, briefly inspecting the bullet with a grin. Bits of blood, looking like crimson string, splashed against the bottom and sides of the tube as he rolled the bullet around inside. Soon the tube was stashed within the vast reaches of his PAK, followed by the forceps once Zim had found napkins inside to clean the blood off with. The goggles were stashed away as well, along with the extra pair of gloves, and Zim turned to face his 'patient'. Stretching his body and looking much more comfortable, Arro gave a nod before turning his attention to the wound. The bug alien's antennae quirked up with interest, eager to watch this act.

    A long tongue swiped over the wound, clearing away damaged scales and wiping up the blood. His jaws opened and Zim's eyes nearly popped right out of his skull! Was Arro going to devour his own body?! Disturbed yet intrigued, he leaned in to watch. This allowed him a front-row viewing to the inner workings of Arro's body, as tubules in the back of his throat began to fill with something. Healing spit maybe? Definitely not, as a crack sounded and soon, the dragon was spewing torrents of flame all over himself! The burst became thinner, contained as though it were being directed like water from a hose. As for the wound itself, it began to bubble up in response. Almost like a burn at first, it soon sealed itself like a scab, creating a firm cover for the wound to heal. Head cocking to the side, Zim watched as Arro finished up with a few more licks. "A very useful ability, dragon! Even if it looks painful..."

    The dragon's next movements came swiftly, making the small alien tense as the scaly creature suddenly rounded on him and came close! Zim prepared himself for an attack, already calculating which weapon to blast him with! However, fangs and talons did not descend down to tear at his body. Instead, the firm skull of Arro came to lightly bonk against his own smaller one. Reptilian scales brushed against smooth green skin, and Zim blinked. He was dumbfounded by the gesture. It was weird and odd, and as they parted their head the Irken rubbed at his forehead even though there was no real sensation of pain. Still, it was nice to be appreciated! "Eh, Zim scratched your back, now you'll scratch mine! Seems fair to me!" A deep rumble sounded, vibrating up through his boots and making the alien's body waver from the feeling of it. Wings spread out, and lifted the dragon into the air as he clung onto the side of a building like a bat. "On this street?" Zim asked for confirmation, standing on his toes to get a better look at the retreating figure. Lucky for them that his intelligence was so great, he'd easily remember these details! Tallest building on this street, first sunday morning of every month.

    "I will see you again, dragon!" Up and out of sight he went, who knew where dragons such as he would go. Still, the Irken smirked to himself and walked towards the entrance of the alleyway. By removing a bullet he'd received a favor from a dragon. What a good day! Especially for one that held nothing for him at first. Grinning widely, Zim pulled out a bag of Irken chips from his PAK and went about his way down the street, spirits very high. Now...what would one do with a favor from a dragon?

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    Re: Late Night Stroll

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