#askdalksdalksjdam

[sonatanotwo]

This suddenly seems much shorter than how it feels in Quoll writer... huh. Um. Anyhoo. Oh man. I can post rp np, but posting a fic has me anxious as all heck. XDDD  SO. YEAH. I started this like.... so long ago... Sometime in July of 2015... Yeah. I. Suck at this. XDDD Um. Anyhoo. This chapter could still end up changed in the future... but I think it’s fairly locked in at this point, but who knows. lol I should stop stalling.

So. Here is the first chapter of this... thing. The title it has is only tentative so I’m gonna... not mention it. XD //drops it and goes to like... hide// /)__(\;;;;;

"Thunderbird 2 to base... Mission complete, I'm on my way home."

"F.A.B. Thunderbird 2. ...You okay, Virgil?"

"Yeah, just tired," Virgil replied Gordon over the comms as he flew towards Tracy Island—home. He'd been out on what had meant to be a simple mission, but of course, it had been anything but simple, in the end. Exhausted, Virgil was incredibly glad to be on his way home, though he still had one obstacle to deal with.

"Ah, one of those, huh?"

"Yeah, one of those," Virgil replied, unable to not crack a small smile, in spite of it all. "I'll tell you about it later. How about that tropical storm? How're things looking from the ground?"

Thunderbird 5 had been monitoring a tropical storm forming for quite a few days now. While it didn't look like it was going to be upgraded in strength, it would still pack a pretty good wallop on their island. Virgil had expected to be home long before then, but of course, it wasn't going to work out that way. John had kept him informed of the status from above, but that didn't exactly tell him what he needed to know.

"Not too good. The sky is looking pretty dark and the waves are really crashing against the island. Think you'll beat it?"

"It's not looking too likely, but I should be okay as long as the runway stays clear. Keep an eye on it for me, would ya? If it'll be more like taking a swim than a landing, I might have to have a change of plans."

He had a few options if going home wasn't viable. He could keep above the storm and just wait it out or see if Lady Penelope wouldn't mind a visitor for a day or two. Neither were as appealing as getting home and falling into his own bed, however. There was little else he wanted more right now.

"Sure thing, Virg."

"Thanks, Gordon. Keep me informed. Thunderbird 2, out."

Once Gordon's hologram vanished from his dash, Virgil returned his full attention to the various indicators in front of him and the darkening sky through the cockpit windows. Well, there were those storm clouds. Things were about to get a whole lot more bumpy.

As if on cue, Thunderbird 2 shuddered from turbulence as she flew into the storm. This was hardly the first, nor would it be the last time Virgil flown through such weather. Thunderbird 2 was designed to handle harsh storms, but it didn't mean it was easy flying, by any means.

Gripping the yoke, Virgil did his best to keep her steady. It made no sense to climb up above the storm considering he was coming up on being only minutes from Tracy Island. At least, it made no sense unless he heard otherwise, although he was starting to wonder if his plan to land hadn't been his best idea. Even this, however, would be easier than his last tricky landing, so he wasn't inclined to abort at this point

Intending to call in again that he was about to land, the comms crackled to life before he could activate it. It was definitely Gordon contacting him again, but Virgil couldn't make heads or tails of anything that was being said. As harsh as the storm was, Virgil wasn't sure why the signal had suddenly distorted so badly. Perhaps the island comms equipment had taken some damage? Reaching up to flick a switch on the comm controls, Virgil quickly returned his hand to the yoke.

"Gordon? You're going to have to repeat that, for me," he replied distractedly, eyes on his instruments, as he was starting to descend to make an attempt at landing.

"Th—nde—"

The signal this time dissolved into nothing but static, much to Virgil's frustration. Reaching up again, Virgil stopped short of the buttons he'd intended to press as something happened.

Every indicator on the dash suddenly spun madly, as Virgil felt a violent shudder run through his ship. Lightning? No, he had the new and thoroughly tested lightning shield up—it wasn't a lightning strike. The lights in the cockpit flickered and then suddenly, blinding white light filled his vision, forcing Virgil to close his eyes.

For a moment, it felt like the world had gone completely topsy turvey around him. He felt disoriented in more ways than one by time he pried his eyes back open. How long had his eyes been closed? He couldn't say. It was like he'd completely zoned out which was easy to believe as his head was absolutely spinning. It even took a moment to realize the shrill sound of a warning alarm really was blaring in his ears.

It had to have been pure instinct that made him cut the rockets and fire the VTOLs, pulling Thunderbird 2 into a sharp turn, just narrowly managing to avoid crashing into the island cliff face. The proximity alarm fell silent.

Allowing Two to hover on her VTOLs, Virgil sat back, releasing a breath of air he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. His head was spinning and his knuckles white, still clutching onto the yoke for dear life. It was rare that Virgil was shaken, but whatever the heck had just happened, had him literally trembling. Nothing like that had EVER happened in the hundreds, upon hundreds of times he'd come in to land, even in bad weather. He could not think of any explanation in the slightest for what had occurred. It wasn't like he'd blacked out. He knew what that was like and that sure hadn't been it. Not to mention, whatever it had been, it had definitely affected Thunderbird 2 as well.

His thoughts were interrupted as the comm suddenly sprang to life, the signal once more clear and a frantic voice on the other end.

"Thunderbird 2! Base to Thunderbird 2! What just happened? You nearly crashed into the island, Virgil!"

Okay, maybe the signal wasn't so clear. Either something was wrong with the comms or his ears, because something sounded decidedly off. Then again, considering what just happened, was that really so strange?

"I don't know... I..."

"Whoa, Virg. You don't sound so good. You better land."

"Y-yeah... F.A.B."

Virgil purposefully killed the comms, wanting to ensure a moment to himself as he rubbed his face with both hands. He was feeling worse, rather than better. What was wrong with him? Maybe something really was up with his hearing, given his head was spinning. A concussion? Although, he didn't remember hitting his head on anything and he didn't seem feel any bump on it either. Virgil also was fairly certain he didn't have near enough a rough a jolt to do it either. Did he have a migraine, perhaps? His stomach was definitely starting to feel rather nauseous, which certainly gave the thought merit, but what about what happened to Thunderbird 2? It had been affected just as much as he had.

Well, he figured he would try to work out what just happened later, for now he just needed to land, given he didn't know if anything was wrong with his ship and that storm was only getting worse.

He started to circle Thunderbird 2 around to make a second approach, but found himself bringing his the large craft to a stop midair once more.

"What the...?" he muttered aloud, staring through the narrow windows at the island below.

Even through the rain, he could see the island wasn't Tracy Island. It bore a resemblance, sure, but this wasn't it. Beyond puzzled he brought up the GPS and ended up looking even more stumped. No, these were exactly the coordinates. This was where it was meant to be it. This was meant to be home, but it just wasn't.

Had something happened to his GPS? It didn't seem to be malfunctioning, but surely it had to be. What other reason could there be for this?

What was going on?

There was a runway below, however and given his head was spinning even worse now and he was struggling to keep Thunderbird 2 steady, he really had no choice—he'd have to set her down there. Aiming to set her down as inland along the runway as he could to get as much shelter from the incoming storm as possible, he somehow managed it.

Almost feeling like he would actually be sick at this point, he decided he needed at least a moment of fresh air. As soon as he at least felt a little better, he'd contact Thunderbird 5. John could then get a fix on his location and they could try to figure out just where he really was and how broken his GPS was.

Virgil practically stumbled from his seat onto the elevator. Stepping onto the runway, he was met with sea spray and wind. Rain hadn't started yet, but it would only be a matter of time. Unfortunately, the fresh air didn't seem to be helping at all. Leaning back against one of his ship's landing struts, he stared down the runway, noticing several figures had appeared and were running towards him. Was that good? He wasn't even sure, but he didn't take a chance, touching his wrist controller to have the elevator ascend.

For a brief moment, Virgil even thought he heard his name being called, but he couldn't stay on his feet any more, his head was just swimming. He let himself sink down onto the runway and closed his eyes, despite hearing voices now above him. He just couldn't pry them back open.