#the massive

[c0smic-catz]

Making references of the bridge of The Massive.

This is the first one

[chyrooxd]

ANNOUNCER RAHHHH PLZ GIVE HIM MORE SCREEN TIME GRRRRRRRRRRR

[noxeorn]

It's been quite a while since I posted here anything IZ related huh?

So behold, the super massive 3D model I've done in blender! I started it back in 2023 and just couldn't find the right mood and time to finish it, but here it is, it's finally done and I'm really proud of it, even tho it for sure is not perfect (but it shouldn't be!)

Technically it was the 1st thing I started to make in blender, and I honestly learnt a lot while working on it

Huge thanks to @/bluecolty cause if not his help and advises in the beginning, I wouldn't be able to even start it lol

[bananaizm]

👽August merch is live! 👽 Presale is open UNTIL August 23rd at 11:59 PM EST! You can purchase the items above on my Ko-fi (click here for the shop).

[dreamase23]

ㅤㅤ┌ׅ─ׂ╌╾ׅ╁┄ׂ╶ ✦⃟⃝🪐✦ ̣̥ ╴ׂ┄╁ׅ╼╌ׂ─ׅ┐

—“THE INVADER“—

ㅤㅤ┌ׅ─ׂ╌╾ׅ╁┄ׂ╶ ✦⃟⃝🪐✦ ̣̥ ╴ׂ┄╁ׅ╼╌ׂ─ׅ┐

Space, the galaxy; or even the universe itself.

In the vast immensity of space, whizzing through the darkness, The Massive cut through the nothingness with its usual impeccable, straight trajectory.

Because of course, what other way of sailing was there for a glorious, gigantic, and absolutely redundant flagship like that?

In the heart of the colossal, where miles of metal and the constant hum of propulsion systems reverberated endlessly, The alert monitors flickered incessantly; filled with incoming calls, disputes, newly subdued worlds demanding more control, and Irken guards moving here and there with the precision of a cosmic clock, there were THEY.

The Tallest, sunk in their floating thrones, tall and perfect, watched with varying expressions the screens in front of the command console they held in their slender claws. The central screen they were looking at showed a variety of different images; Zim in the midst of disasters he caused on the Earth, in other failures, and in some senseless stupidities that he didn't have to report to the higher archives.

Irken navigators ran back and forth, antennas twitching with each alarm that crackled through the air. Transmissions from invaders in different sectors jammed the main channel: requests for reinforcements, complaints about supplies, reports of newly conquered worlds.

But there was one name that, like a parasite, was repeated in every corner.

Zim.

Red snorted something between his fangs, frowning so tightly that the small twitch under his left eye was visible. Purple, less discreet, placed the weight of his head on one of his shoulders, trying to understand WHY AND HOW Zim managed to send them these reports. When they had clearly forbidden the computer from letting him access the report cards (and the safest thing to suspect was that Zim had hacked them somehow).

—“Very well... Very well. This can’t be tolerated any longer.“—Red growled first, stretching out one of his thin claws as if to crush the very mention of the nuisance. Purple finally reacted, folding his antennae and slamming both claws into the command console.

—“He’s behaving like a plague again!! He even hacks the database that we turned off so we wouldn’t get any more of these things!!!!“

His fingers cracked as he twisted the buttons. Sometimes Purple couldn't control his impulses. Red, on the other hand, was more... restrained. A little.

—“We have to cut the cables to that damn computer, or I swear—“—

The Highs seemed increasingly less patient with Zim’s nonsense.

In the command room, the Irken navigators watched everything with a tense silence, almost palpable from how raw it became with each second, making their antennas twitch out of pure instinct. The floating screens that lit the room flickered with more incoming calls: invaders reporting failures, unread communications, pressure boiling in the air, a calculated, measured, and then...

More reports of Zim invading the monitors, every damn digital screen, every corner of the room! Harassing media outlets like they used to, appearing in images, grinning from antenna to antenna with their fangs, showing off their plans... His "great advances" resulted in spectacular, but also humiliating, failures. The worst... as a joke, a note on the last screen, written in the native language and with an absurd drawing of Zim on the planet said: "FOR YOU MY HIGHEST ONES!"

Red twitched his antennae, opening his eyes wide and then clenching his fangs, he wanted to "control himself" but that last bit was the last straw, THE LAST STRAW:

—“ENOUGH!! ENOUGH, ENOUGH, ENOUGH!!!“ —he roared, abruptly rising from his throne to shout at all the screens that invaded the command room. The damn monitors at maximum volume, repeating Zim's thunderous laughter everywhere, resonating like maniacal echoes. Purple brought his hands up to his antennae, stretching them so hard that he didn't care if he ripped them off, he just complained with squeals.

—“Reeeeed! Turn it off! Turn it off! Turn it ooooooff!!“

The Irken navigators stumbled behind their consoles, muttering incoherently and clumsily trying to disable all input from Zim by touching every button.

Red burst.

—“¡¡¡¡SILENCE!!!!“

Silence. The navigators gave way, every monitor and screen automatically shutting down at the command of Stop Red.

A central screen flickered, again showing the progress of the straight trajectory.

—“U-uh...“

Everyone fell silent at once, paralyzed. The service drones stopped running around, the Irken navigators, still panicking, hid behind their consoles, and the guards at the entrance stood so stiff with alert that the air almost left their chests. And Purple was left half-swallowing a whole donut in frustration.

—“I can’t take it anymore. No. More.”—Red closed his eyes for a second, trying to breathe.

Purple quickly threw the donut into the air, and stood up from his throne to point his accusing claw at everyone.

—“Dismissed! All of you, to the cutting room—!”

—“No. Purple... it's not necessary.“—Red burst in, sinking very, very slowly into his throne. —“Every report of that... defective invader... It’s a torment.”

Purple watched him for a few seconds, looked at all the Irkens in the room and glared at them with just a glance, before returning to his usual calm and sitting next to Red.

—“So... what do you suggest?“—Purple's question was, unexpectedly, taken very seriously by Red.

—“We need a definitive solution…”—He declared in a grave tone, clasping his claws on his knees. And then, Purple smiled.

—“An invader to watch him!!“

The antennas of everyone present were raised, nervous.

—“Or better yet, I deleted it.“

Purple leaped out of his seat, fists in the air, antennae raised.

—“But removing it altogether would be too vulgar!.. We need one more play -elegant-“

Red stood up as well, placing a claw on his chin as he turned on his heels.

—“Someone to take the Earth in its place...“

Purple rushed to his side, taking him by the shoulders with a wide, toothy grin of malice.

—“Destroy it all!”

Red slowly outlined a tiny curve on his lips, too fine and predatory.

—“And don't leave even one antenna untouched...“—He turned to look at Purple, and Purple looked back, both of them sharing something too in sync to be terrifying. —“One I didn’t miss.”

They laughed in unison, and then, as if fate had cut through the crowd, a name was whispered by both Tall Ones.

“Vek.“

ㅤㅤ┌ׅ─ׂ╌╾ׅ╁┄ׂ╶ ✦⃟⃝🪐✦ ̣̥ ╴ׂ┄╁ׅ╼╌ׂ─ׅ┐

To be continued...

ㅤㅤ┌ׅ─ׂ╌╾ׅ╁┄ׂ╶ ✦⃟⃝🪐✦ ̣̥ ╴ׂ┄╁ׅ╼╌ׂ─ׅ┐

[geekynerfherder]

Showcasing art from some of my favourite artists, and those that have attracted my attention, in the field of visual arts, including vintage; pulp; pop culture; books and comics; concert posters; fantastical and imaginative realism; classical; contemporary; new contemporary; pop surrealism; conceptual and illustration.

The art of Rafael Grampá.

[random-iz-stuff]

Hey does anyone want to see the Massive’s canonical size?

Too bad here you go:

Using the Earth as a unit of measurement in ETF, the Massive is around 6000 km long.