{ OMFG LOUD BANG IS LOUD // Closed, complete }
Character(s): Zim
Content: Zim sets up base.
Setting: [M7], in a previously empty patch of..er..sidewalk a few buildings east from the Havasu Medical Center, nestled between the train station and clinic.
Time: Late week 26, early morning.
Warnings: None. JUST REALLY LOUD EXPLOSIONS
From his PAK, one purple arm extended, dropping and handy capsule into his hand. And, since he'd came across this nifty little place during the early morning hours, he'd set up base now, while he was still in his disguise. Using the empty lane to his advantage, he set the capsule, on the ground and pressed a small, red button on one end and the capsule began expanding until his Voot Cruiser was back to its original size--Oh yes, Irken technology was quite remarkable, indeed. But, there was little time for celebration. Zim had to establish a base of operations, thus he set right to work, pulling out a small rod from the cruiser that, with a pull and a twist of a knob, extended into a tablet with a holographic screen. He pulled the little stylus out a re-drew his house, inserting it into a slot. The Voot Cruiser responded wonderfully, sending a pod deep into the ground. It kept digging until it hit a buried electrical wire.
AND THEN THERE WAS NOISE. SUCH NOISE WAS THERE, HOLY SHIT. ALMOST EVERYONE WITHIN THE M7 AND SURROUNDING SECTORS IS GUARANTEED TO HEAR RUMBLING AND THE EXTENSION OF METAL AND THINK SOMETHING IS GETTING DEMOLISHED WITH A SHITLOAD OF C4. OMFG IT'S LIKE AN EARTHQUAKE OF FEAR AND NOISE AND OMFGWTFBBQ RUN FOR YOUR LIVES. While there will be no actual damage, weak seismic tremors causing things to jitter just a bit will be felt as far away as the Palazzo Townhomes[N5], Actua Are Hotel[N9], and Cid's Shop[J7].
Some of the hideous patrons stuck their head out of windows and stared, children cried and some people even fled their homes, not sure what the hell was even going ON. But Zim stared...awkwardly...and strolled..slowly..into his new, house, though this time, only a bed of metallic flowers and some small rabbit statues adorned the few meters of space separating his house from the street. The only difference being this time that there were no hideous pipes extending from the sides of the home, no..the Voot Cruiser sought out the most stable source of electricity on its own. The cables extended from the various underground chambers of his base, extending to tap into the electrical wiring like a network of fine roots. Safely inside his new base, he slammed the door shut, let out the breath he was holding with a 'whew' and sank to the floor. After a moment's reprieve, he strolled to the trash can, quite missing the nagging and nonsensical cries of the G.I.R. unit usually at his heels as it zipped around him, but the...peace...was appreciated for once. He climbed up to the trash can, standing on a platform within, and sank to the lower levels LIKE NOTHING EVER HAPPENED.
There he spent the remainder of the next morning dissecting and reading the coding to that little journal he was given. It was, actually, quite a nifty little piece of technology. Even his Irken technology couldn't decipher the exact function of every part, or how it ran, exactly, but! A computer program was a computer program. He remained holed up in his base, sitting at the very heart of it. His disguise cast aside while on the way to his comfortable seat in the compact heart of his base, he sat reading through every little string of coding to get an intimate understanding of the individual journal's functions and how it linked up to the closed network.
Besides, maybe if he figured out how this journal worked, he could figure out WHY THE HELL HIS AMAZING EQUIPMENT CAN'T GET A STUPID READING ON THIS STUPID TERMITE MOUND ON A STUPID PLANET MADE OF FAIL AND FILTH. AND WHY THE HELL COULDN'T HE CONTACT HIS TALLESTS, OR G.I.R., OR ORDER SNACKS? HE NEEDED IRKEN SNACKS. THEY ARE DELICIOUS.
But he wasn't concerning himself with that, yet. He was about to make his life easier by installing the journal's program into the mainframe on his base, re-coding the journal in the Irken language--Zim rarely thought anything through, but he at least knew that English was a common language on Earth, and that no one knew how to read his native Irken language because..well..he was the first Irken to ever land on Earth. Besides, it was a quick process, really. It only took a few hours for him to install the program and link up to the mainframe. AND, BEING THE GENIUS Zim is, he uploaded the program to his PAK and made full use of the camera on his holographic display screen. His Journal could now be accessed at his base, or he could make log entries remotely from his PAK. It was a start, at least..he'd start with the journal and expand from there in time.
Finally, he pressed a button on the keyboard at his fingertips, and his face appeared on the screen. Perfect. Now that his journal was properly uploaded to his personal mainframe, Zim could get to more important things.
He'd previously tried to contact his Tallests, to pick up radio signals and even the usual satellite signals, but nothing worked. It was all static. He couldn't even get a clear reading on his surroundings. He could see that he was in a room, clearly..a very large room, and that there was a floor above and walls, but the closer to the fringes of the building he looked, the more the image jumped, translucent snow jumped around the fringes, and the image rolled across his screen--it was more than frustrating, thus after he was done fiddling with the new, albeit PRIMITIVE piece of electronics he was given, he was busily making every attempt to adjust the settings and clear up the image as much as possible.
Content: Zim sets up base.
Setting: [M7], in a previously empty patch of..er..sidewalk a few buildings east from the Havasu Medical Center, nestled between the train station and clinic.
Time: Late week 26, early morning.
Warnings: None. JUST REALLY LOUD EXPLOSIONS
From his PAK, one purple arm extended, dropping and handy capsule into his hand. And, since he'd came across this nifty little place during the early morning hours, he'd set up base now, while he was still in his disguise. Using the empty lane to his advantage, he set the capsule, on the ground and pressed a small, red button on one end and the capsule began expanding until his Voot Cruiser was back to its original size--Oh yes, Irken technology was quite remarkable, indeed. But, there was little time for celebration. Zim had to establish a base of operations, thus he set right to work, pulling out a small rod from the cruiser that, with a pull and a twist of a knob, extended into a tablet with a holographic screen. He pulled the little stylus out a re-drew his house, inserting it into a slot. The Voot Cruiser responded wonderfully, sending a pod deep into the ground. It kept digging until it hit a buried electrical wire.
AND THEN THERE WAS NOISE. SUCH NOISE WAS THERE, HOLY SHIT. ALMOST EVERYONE WITHIN THE M7 AND SURROUNDING SECTORS IS GUARANTEED TO HEAR RUMBLING AND THE EXTENSION OF METAL AND THINK SOMETHING IS GETTING DEMOLISHED WITH A SHITLOAD OF C4. OMFG IT'S LIKE AN EARTHQUAKE OF FEAR AND NOISE AND OMFGWTFBBQ RUN FOR YOUR LIVES. While there will be no actual damage, weak seismic tremors causing things to jitter just a bit will be felt as far away as the Palazzo Townhomes[N5], Actua Are Hotel[N9], and Cid's Shop[J7].
Some of the hideous patrons stuck their head out of windows and stared, children cried and some people even fled their homes, not sure what the hell was even going ON. But Zim stared...awkwardly...and strolled..slowly..into his new, house, though this time, only a bed of metallic flowers and some small rabbit statues adorned the few meters of space separating his house from the street. The only difference being this time that there were no hideous pipes extending from the sides of the home, no..the Voot Cruiser sought out the most stable source of electricity on its own. The cables extended from the various underground chambers of his base, extending to tap into the electrical wiring like a network of fine roots. Safely inside his new base, he slammed the door shut, let out the breath he was holding with a 'whew' and sank to the floor. After a moment's reprieve, he strolled to the trash can, quite missing the nagging and nonsensical cries of the G.I.R. unit usually at his heels as it zipped around him, but the...peace...was appreciated for once. He climbed up to the trash can, standing on a platform within, and sank to the lower levels LIKE NOTHING EVER HAPPENED.
There he spent the remainder of the next morning dissecting and reading the coding to that little journal he was given. It was, actually, quite a nifty little piece of technology. Even his Irken technology couldn't decipher the exact function of every part, or how it ran, exactly, but! A computer program was a computer program. He remained holed up in his base, sitting at the very heart of it. His disguise cast aside while on the way to his comfortable seat in the compact heart of his base, he sat reading through every little string of coding to get an intimate understanding of the individual journal's functions and how it linked up to the closed network.
Besides, maybe if he figured out how this journal worked, he could figure out WHY THE HELL HIS AMAZING EQUIPMENT CAN'T GET A STUPID READING ON THIS STUPID TERMITE MOUND ON A STUPID PLANET MADE OF FAIL AND FILTH. AND WHY THE HELL COULDN'T HE CONTACT HIS TALLESTS, OR G.I.R., OR ORDER SNACKS? HE NEEDED IRKEN SNACKS. THEY ARE DELICIOUS.
But he wasn't concerning himself with that, yet. He was about to make his life easier by installing the journal's program into the mainframe on his base, re-coding the journal in the Irken language--Zim rarely thought anything through, but he at least knew that English was a common language on Earth, and that no one knew how to read his native Irken language because..well..he was the first Irken to ever land on Earth. Besides, it was a quick process, really. It only took a few hours for him to install the program and link up to the mainframe. AND, BEING THE GENIUS Zim is, he uploaded the program to his PAK and made full use of the camera on his holographic display screen. His Journal could now be accessed at his base, or he could make log entries remotely from his PAK. It was a start, at least..he'd start with the journal and expand from there in time.
Finally, he pressed a button on the keyboard at his fingertips, and his face appeared on the screen. Perfect. Now that his journal was properly uploaded to his personal mainframe, Zim could get to more important things.
He'd previously tried to contact his Tallests, to pick up radio signals and even the usual satellite signals, but nothing worked. It was all static. He couldn't even get a clear reading on his surroundings. He could see that he was in a room, clearly..a very large room, and that there was a floor above and walls, but the closer to the fringes of the building he looked, the more the image jumped, translucent snow jumped around the fringes, and the image rolled across his screen--it was more than frustrating, thus after he was done fiddling with the new, albeit PRIMITIVE piece of electronics he was given, he was busily making every attempt to adjust the settings and clear up the image as much as possible.