I’ll Beat You With A Chilly 4 Degrees Where I Am, And Steadily Going Downwards!

I LOVE HOW VIRGIL IS PAINTING HIS DAD.

I had to rewind numerous times just to re-watch this bit over and over.

Reckon he’s painting him so that Jeff can hang on the wall next to the rest of them? (behind Virg in that gif)

Hey guys, I’m having a really awful day. One of my best friends and I are kinda drifting apart, and it really hurts, y’know? And on top of that, there’s this weird guy that keeps wanting to talk to me and stuff like that and kinda follows me around a bit, even though I want nothing to do with him. Me being me, I don’t really have the courage to say no (unless it’s a rehersed scene in my head, y’know what I mean?). Any ideas on how to stop him?

That is very true....

Buddy Prendergast

Out of curiosity, I was just wondering if it was established about how Buddy lost his leg?

I have an idea ... but I'm saving it for the final Whumptober 2020 prompt ... hopefully managing to incorporate a few prompts in the one story.

http://chng.it/Ty2h9KkH4V

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When you're writing and you suddenly realize you don't know what happens next

KENOBI KENOBI KENOBI KENOBI

@colonel-jeff-tracy Some good leg action there, 10/10.

Is it just me, or does Season 3 Scott have more grey hairs than Season 1 Scott? If that’s true, then I love the attention to detail! Awesome job animators and character designers!

Daily Dose of Thunderbirds

The Commander of International Rescue.

I received a wonderful piece of feedback on When the World Goes Boom this morning, so when I went to bed this arvo feeling like crud, I dragged the fic out to reread it. Two things - firstly, it wrecked me. I don’t know what the author was thinking, but OW! Secondly, it’s still WIP and has been since May. I hit chapter eight and ran out of fic at a very inconvenient spot. And now, despite me being that despicable author, I’ve been traumatised by my own fic. Poor Scotty, Virg and Allie. John and Gordon are the only two Tracy bros left standing and they’re pissed and have gone vigilante. I’m going to have to shoot myself with my own candy cannon.

So, anyway, can’t write at the moment, so I guess I’ll just have to stay in the resultant headspace and apologise to Scotty by posting his gorgeous visage here.

Nutty

(at least I have some notes to look at and try and work out all the plot threads…so many plot threads. This is why Nutty should never stop writing in the middle of a fic…ever ::headdesk:: )

PS: That first pic up the top? Heartbreaking ::wails::

5+1 Scott and Alan (Carrying) Part 4

Ao3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

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-4-

“Scott? Can you come pick me up?”

It was barely even a whimper over the audio-only hologram call. The voice was slightly nasally and hoarse – as well as plainly miserable. Scott jumped up from where he’d been sitting cross-legged on the island’s balcony, overlooking the pool. “Allie? What’s wrong? What happened?” Alan barely called home from boarding school unless it was the weekend or something was really wrong.

There was a pause and a sniffle. “Just, come pick me up?”

Half an hour later, Scott was striding up the stairs to Alan’s boarding school, the smell of Tracy One’s afterburners still lingering in the air along with the scent of scorched grass. Oh well. He’d pay for it later. His kid brother needed him.

Scott barely stopped to sign in at reception, instead continuing on to where he knew his brother’s dorm room was. Kids scrambled to get out of his way, murmurs of “International Rescue” following his every step. Oops, sorry Alan.

The amount of people trickled to almost nothing as soon as Scott hit the dormitory area. He scoured each door until he found the one he was looking for. There was a dent in the wood, new since the last time he’d been here just over two months ago. Raising his hand, Scott knocked. “Allie?”

The door violently opened, and suddenly his arms were full of sobbing baby brother.

“Alan, hey, calm down, I’m here.”

Alan only sobbed harder, clutching the eldest around the middle. Slightly shocked and now more than a little concerned, Scott gently carded his fingers through the blond hair. When it was obvious that Alan wasn’t going to let go soon, Scott bent and scooped him up. At eleven years old, Alan had proclaimed himself ‘too old to be picked up’, but there was no reaction this time.

Scott finally stepped into the room, knocking the door closed with his foot. Dodging the mess on the floor, he carried Alan over to the bed, complete with rumpled sheets and a tear-stained pillow. Setting him down, he tried to gently untangle himself from the embrace, but Alan was having none of it.

“No,” he whispered, “don’t go away.”

“Alright, it’s okay.” Dread stabbed Scott through. “I’m not going anywhere.”

In the minutes it took to calm Alan down, Scott’s mind was racing. Alan had only been at this new boarding school for a couple of months, but he seemed to be enjoying it so far. They’d had to move him and Gordon after their dad disappeared. Someone had leaked that the elusive Tracy boys attended a certain boarding school when not at their mysterious island, and the press had started to harass both teachers and students alike about International Rescue and the recent disappearance of its commander. Alan and Gordon had lived in a state of constant stress, still recovering from Jeff’s death. Grandma Tracy had made the decision to move them to somewhere no one knew who they were, and so far, it had worked. For Alan, at least. After only a couple of weeks at the school, Gordon had gotten word that his application to WASP had been accepted and he graduated early, much to the disappointment of his younger brother. But Alan bounced back fairly quickly, it seemed, and he had told them about his friends and schoolwork every time he spoke to his family on the island.

After a while, Alan slowly raised his head. Scott watched him carefully. Alan was like John and Virgil – push him and he wouldn’t tell you a thing but be patient and he’d tell you what was on his mind.

“I had history today,” he finally whispered. “We’re beginning a new unit. Space missions.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Dad was mentioned,” Alan’s breath hitched. “The teacher said that he was one of the best astronauts of our time, and– and that it was such a shame when he…” He broke off, dissolving in sobs once again. He tightened his grip on Scott’s hoodie, and Scott found himself similarly clinging to his brother. Memories assaulted him at once, memories not even six months old.

“I miss him, Scotty.”

“So do I.”

“He’s not coming back, is he? Like Mum?”

“No,” Scott whispered, almost too quiet to hear and even harder to say. “He’s not.”

--------

Welp! These are just getting longer and longer and I am really enjoying it! I was thinking that the family would take Alan back home to the island after this incident and continue homeschooling him, or at least, get hologram Zoom-calls or something. I can only imagine the questions and attention Alan would get after a member of International Rescue visited. Someone would two and two together, figure everything out, and then naturally everyone would know. Besides, Alan's training needs to begin!

Desperately need ideas for the next one! Something needs to go wrong on a rescue, or Alan messes up somehow, but I don't know what! Any ideas??