#tbbirthdaychallenge

[gumnut-logic]

Birthday Challenge

Virgil Tracy

We have another birthday coming up!

So here are some prompts to play with to celebrate :D

There are twelve different ideas, one for each month of the year he is celebrating. (I only chose the number twelve because it was convenient and fit the idea, so in no way do you have do a challenge a month or anything like that. It’s just twelve challenges to choose from.)

You can do one or more, you can fic, you can art, the only requirement is that Virgil is in there somewhere. He doesn’t even have to star in the fic, but he has to be there. After all, it is his birthday.

15th August is in a week, but this challenge can just hover around that date and is purely for fun. If we can post stuff for next Sunday, yay, if not it is still fun to have new content at any time :D

Tag all entries with #TBBirthdayChallenge and #TBBirthdayChallenge2021

Other than that, no rules other than play nice and create stuff! So have at it and play with the Virg. :D

Nutty

(text version of the challenge list below the cut)

Birthday Challenge - Virgil Tracy - 15 August

ROMANTIC VIRGIL Explore his loving side - who do you see him with?

HISTORICAL VIRGIL Explore something from his past.

VIRGIL & A FAMILY MEMBER Have him do something with a family member.

ARTIST!VIRGIL How does he experience the world?

VIRGIL @ WORK Explore Virgil on the job.

AU!VIRGIL Explore Virgil from an alternate universe.

INJURED VIRGIL We all love a little hurt/comfort.

FANBOY VIRGIL Who does he admire?

TINY VIRGIL We all love a little wee!Tracys.

FUTURE VIRGIL What do you see in Virgil’s future?

VIRGIL FROM AN OUTSIDE POV How do others see him? How does the world?

VIRGIL’S BIRTHDAY How does he celebrate? And with who?

[katblu42]

Two

A fic for Virgil's birthday from an unusual point of view. Somewhat covering the "Outside POV" and "Virgil at Work" titles on the birthday challenge list.

Thank you @gumnut-logic for the read through, and for setting up this birthday event to prod me into finishing this one!

The sudden opening of my overhead hatch by remote access wakes me from my slumber. He’s coming. My pilot. There must be a situation. If it were anything else the hatch would have been opened manually, and if it were any other pilot it would be the lower hatch, not the one above my cockpit. He swings down from the end of his chute, his boots hit the checker plate of my cockpit floor and he reaches up to close the hatch. There is an automated close control, so he doesn’t have to do it by hand, but it is quicker and much more satisfying when he does. The solid thunk as it shuts both feels and sounds more secure, more reassuring than the slow, quiet, automatic closure. And it signals the unofficial beginning of our next adventure together. He smiles every time he pulls the hatch closed – there is a certain excitement in the urgency of a launch. Someone needs us, and we have to fly.

My pilot is unique. No one else treats me the way he does, or understands me like he does. He knows me better than any other human, more intimately than even the creator himself. The creator is the one responsible for my original design and build, but I suspect my pilot may have had a little input. He has certainly had a creative hand in upgrades and repairs, and prefers to do as much hands on maintenance work as he can, often working alongside the creator and his robotic assistant when he can’t complete the work on his own. The creator may well know every nut and bolt and wiring loom, every function and capability to the letter of the specifications, but my pilot knows I am more than a marvellous piece of engineering.

He knows me in the air – how I will respond to any weather conditions, any sudden changes, and every little twitch of my controls. My pilot knows my limits in practice, not just on paper and by the numbers. He will push me when it’s needed and knows when I have given all I can. We have nursed each other home battle-scarred and wounded on many an occasion. He will apologise whenever my abilities are stretched beyond capacity, whenever there is damage, and every time he needs to pull me apart for repairs. I don’t need the apologies. He takes care of me, and I will do my best to take care of him.

My pilot feels affection for me. He shows it in so many little ways, like the absent minded way he’ll trail his hand along the surface of my hull as he passes, or contentedly hum along with the rumble of my engines. It’s evident in the way he speaks to me. Barely audible whispers of greeting, or thanks for a job well done. Impassioned pleas to give just a little more in desperate times, often followed by relieved words of thanks accompanied by a loving rub of my dash, or forehead resting against a bulkhead with a relieved sigh once the crisis is over. He speaks to me in words of encouragement and praise. He believes in me and relies on me, and in return I will give him everything he asks of me. For him I will push my limits to do what he needs me to do, to get us all home safe.

He calls me beautiful. I know that I am not, but it is good to hear him say it. Strong and dependable I may be, but not beautiful – except perhaps in his eyes. I am not sleek and shiny like my sister ‘birds One and Three. Nor am I built for speed like them, but I am proud of my capabilities. Still one of the fastest machines in the air despite my grand size and considerable weight, I am versatile and able to carry just about any cargo imaginable. Sometimes I wish I could be faster, but I know that some things are more important. Without me it would be impossible to get specialised heavy equipment to where it is needed, my medical bay is the best equipped and largest in International Rescue’s fleet, and I am capable of carrying a large number of people to safety. If I were to fail in my duties it would make the job of my pilot and his colleagues immeasurably difficult. So, I must not fail.

He sings to me. When he’s working on repairs or maintenance, when he’s tidying the cockpit or restocking the medical supplies, or sometimes, when we’re flying alone. His voice resonates through my systems and reflects off my surfaces and harmonises with my own sounds. I like when he sings. He seems to do it when he’s happy, comfortable – content. None of the others ever sing to me. The Co-pilot – the one who belongs to Four – he sings sometimes, but it’s not the same. He seems to sing as a distraction, to change the prevailing mood in the cockpit, or just for his own entertainment. His singing is loud and raucous, but not necessarily bad.

Others have flown me when my pilot has been unable to. It is never the same. The Commander, One’s pilot, is always trying to rush me, wanting me to be something I am not. He is impatient with me and grumbles that I am not fast enough. He gets frustrated if I do not respond immediately to the slightest adjustment of my controls, and yet he will often take an extra fraction of a second to find the switch or lever he needs because he is used to flying a different ‘bird. I understand his sense of urgency, but flying for him is sometimes hard work, as though he is fighting me instead of working with me.

The Co-pilot, Four’s pilot is better. Four and I are like the closest of sisters in many ways. We are often called to work together as I am able to carry her to locations she cannot reach fast enough alone. As a result her pilot and mine work together often, and he gets to see first hand how my pilot handles my controls. When he is required to take over piloting duties he emulates what he has seen my pilot do, right down to voicing encouraging words when needed. He is a good pilot, but he lacks a little confidence in himself, as though he is afraid of doing something wrong and causing damage to another’s ‘bird. He means well and he is trying to connect with me on some level, but it is not the same as the partnership I have with my pilot.

The little one, Three’s pilot is somewhere in between those two. He has that nervousness about him, the fear of making a mistake flying a ‘bird that’s not his, and he seems to have a desire to prove himself so he’ll try and do things his way instead of feeling and listening to what I need. At the same time he is inclined to want to rush and expect me to respond more like One or Three instead of doing things my way, but he seems more comfortable adjusting his piloting style than the Commander is.

The other – the Voice from the stars – only really flies me remotely. I have no tangible connection with him. Remote piloting is clinical, calculated, precise and impersonal. He does not communicate directly with me through voice or touch, only electronics. He relies on numbers and sensor readings rather than human senses like my pilot does. I know it is necessary at times for this intangible Voice to take control this way, but it is a lonely way to fly.

My pilot’s strong hands are gentle, nimble and sure in their movements across my controls as he completes pre-flight procedures. The module we need for the job has been selected, loaded and secured into place – part of me, but not. The modules, the pods, the machines and equipment I carry are perhaps like accessories or clothing for a human – it is possible to fly without them, but they are still a part of my complete work-ready attire.

The hangar door is opening and we are rolling. My pilot gently caresses a hand across my dash and quietly utters “Here we go, girl.” The launch pad tilts and the countdown begins. I am a Thunderbird, and my engines rumble into a roar. I bring the thunder, and with my pilot, together we ride the lightning.

“Thunderbird Two is go!”

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: lend me the courage of stars

Summary: It’s the anniversary of their mother’s death, and Gordon takes John out for an adventure at sea, so unlike his home in the skies, and yet so connected. Genre: Family, Angst - Warning for grief over Mom’s death Characters: Gordon, John Words: 6K Also connected to John’s birthday month extravaganza -and I think I hit a few :) A/N: Thank you to @godsliltippy, @the-original-sineater​, and @gumnut-logic​ for the support and read throughs (the many versions of). This wouldn’t be as solid without you. Thank for, Thunderfam, for reading, and continuing to support me as I’ve worked through the last few weeks. It’s been rough, still ongoing, but this fic - and the excitement to share it with you - has been an important constant I’ve been able to fall back on.  There are a few key references made that I’d like to note - First  - This fic draws from a book I read as a young adult by Madeleine L’Engle, called A Ring of Endless Light. If you’ve read the book or her works you may recognize a few references. The name Eddington comes from an important character in her novels. 

Second - This fic also draws from Nutty’s Kermadec AU, and, through it’s evolution, just kind of kept sliding into it. I am calling this Kermadec AU-djacent. If you have not yet read “We’ll Be Home for Christmas” you should.  Thanks for letting me play around with the boys and concepts you’ve built, Nutty.  Third -  Skipper wiggled her way in and wouldn’t let go. So, as part of this story, you all get to meet Gordon’s puppy, inspired by this post here, which was a  commissioned gift from Tippy. 

Music: The title “lend me the courage of stars”  does, in fact, come from a song!  “Lend Me the Courage of Stars” - by Lights and Motion YT | Spotify No lyrics, just emotions, the genre is cinematic, and I so adore the build in this one.  Phew - that was a long one, thanks for reading. The fic in full will be over at Ao3, link below. I’ll get around to FF. Edit - FF added below :) ----- It was not a normal Tracy welcome home.

Usually, John came home to one of two scenarios. Either the whole family (and way too many people at once) met him in the hangar. And if Gordon had anything to say about it, he’d be there like a stranger at the airport waiting for their party, one LARGE sign: Looking for - Ginger with a Bagel. Or, Space Cadet Carrot Top. Or, John’s current favorite, Vulcan in Disguise.

That last one had Virgil’s handwriting all over it. 

Or, there was no one to greet him at all between rescues, maintenance work, and their own unique hobbies and passion projects. And, sure, it was sometimes a bit lonely in those cases, but there were advantages too. It gave him time to rest until he felt more human, and only then would he embark on a sibling scavenger hunt. 

Today, it had simply been Gordon who met him upon arrival, at 1100 hours, sans airport sign, greeting him with his usual squid hug, but with a bit more squeeze behind it than normal. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Gordon breathed into his shirt. “Terra firma not good enough for you?”

“Terra Firma is fine,” John quipped. “Gravity’s not.” Gordon gripped his chest tighter, and the pressure built behind his eyes. Behind those jokes was a scared child, a little boy who lost his mom too early in life and who needed his big brother’s support on the anniversary of her death. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Gordon.”  Read at Ao3 Read at FF

[m-calculus]

Image source: https://twitter.com/tonys219/status/1046820392470556673

Virgil’s Birthday

Virgil sat in the sand wearing only his board shorts, squishing the sand between his toes after returning from his swim.

The waves lapped at the shore just a few metres away, crashing before receding in small ripples. The small fire he’d built smouldering in front of him, orange embers against the black coals.

The sun was setting, creating a rainbow of pinks and orange across the horizon, as Virgil stared out over the ocean.

He shivered slightly, poking at the fire with a stick and adding another log to keep it burning, before pulling his beach towel around his shoulders.

Between the roaring of the ocean and the bird calls as they returned to roost on Mateo, Virgil could hear stumbling footfalls coming down the path. They had to belong to John, he’d not yet been earth-side long enough to come to terms with gravity.

Sure enough the Astronaut soon appeared beside him, his ginger hair shining in the fading light, as he slid off his shoes and settled down in the sand, a thermos and cups in his hands.

“Cocoa?” he started to pour a cup.

“Yes, please,” Virgil accepted the warm liquid gratefully, blowing on it gently before taking a sip.

They sat in silence as the moon and stars appeared in the sky, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Virgil drank in and absorbed the peaceful energy as the gentle salt-laden breeze caressed his face, which he intended to later express on a canvas in his studio.

John picked out his favourite constellations in the night sky, running through the various facts he knew about them in his head.

Thunderbird 1 roared above them, disappearing further up the Island and down underneath the pool.

John got to his knees in preparation to stand. “Are you coming up to the house? It is your birthday dinner after all.”

Virgil smiled. “Well, when you put it that way...”

He extinguished the fire with sea water using a bucket they kept tied to a palm tree for that purpose, and offered John a hand up, as he was still wobbly on his feet.

By the time they reached the house, and Virgil threw on some clothes, Scott was already unpacking the containers of Chinese food, direct from one of the best restaurants in China. They didn’t usually serve take-away, but received the largest tip of the year for being so accommodating.

Gordon and Alan were bouncing impatiently in front of the counter, taking in the smells of the food which were now wafting around the room.

“You know the rules, it’s Virgil’s birthday so he gets to plate up his food first,” Scott reminded them, pointing a finger at Gordon before sneakily grabbing a spring roll.

“Hey!” Gordon rounded the bench, jumping up onto Scott’s back and grabbing his shoulders like a baby koala as Scott held the spring roll out of reach.

“You’d best get your food quickly, Virgil,” John smirked.

Alan was laughing so hard that tears ran down his face, as both Scott and Gordon fell to the floor with a crash.

Virgil shook his head, plating up a selection of his favourite dishes.

“Now we can eat!” Gordon dove into the containers, with Alan not far behind.

Scott and John waited for the whirlwind which was the terrible two to move away to the table before plating up their own food, by which time Kayo, Grandma and Brains had joined them in the kitchen.

Gordon and Alan had eaten their food so quickly that Virgil wondered if they’d even actually tasted it, before going back for seconds.

Brains was impressed. “I haven’t had food like this since a visiting colleague cooked a traditional Chinese dinner for us!”

By the time they’d all cleared their plates, with enough leftovers in the fridge for lunch the next day, everybody started meandering into the lounge for birthday cake.

Virgil couldn’t believe his eyes. In the centre of the room was a GINORMOUS cake, in the shape of Thunderbird 2, taking up the entire coffee table.

“What?! How?!” Virgil looked around at his family.

Alan did a small first-pump, “See, I told you he’d like it!”

Scott laughed, ruffling Alan’s hair, “It was Alan’s idea to have a cake made in the shape of Thunderbird 2. I’m glad we managed to keep it a secret getting it back to the Island,” he winked.

“Now let’s sing happy birthday!” Grandma started them off. “Happy Birthday to you...”

Virgil blew out the candles, hesitating slightly before cutting into the cake, it almost looked too good to eat, before slicing right through.

“You touched the bottom, you need to kiss the nearest person!” Gordon piped up from the other side of the room, waggling his eyebrows.

Virgil laughed and gave their Grandma a peck on the cheek, as Scott took over cutting the cake into slices, passing one to Virgil.

“Mmmm, chocolate with mint frosting!” he exclaimed, taking another mouthful.

“Happy Birthday, Virgil.” Scott wrapped his arm around his brother’s shoulders.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33252112

[dreamycloud]

My Kayo/Wayne Rigby one shot for the #TBBirthdayChallenge2021 is on AO3 now ✨

I’m so excited about this! They’re one of my fave TAG ships and I’m glad I was able to meet the deadline 🙌🏻

So, what inspired this fic was this moment:

Obviously Alan’s comment annoyed Kayo. But what if it stuck with her?

And then that giggle from when she’s talking to Rigby 😔 (and Alan’s worried face lol).

So this fic is very fluffy. There’s kissing. A little friendly competition with a water balloon toss and a three-legged race. Pen & Ink in the background.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32066857

[jbarkerstargazer]

Virgil's Birthday

Its still his birthday here in the UK I'm not late

Using both Artist!Virgil and Virgil's Birthday from Nutty's challenge, I give you something from my brain.

V and B

Virgil re-read the email. Lower Marsh Street? 2am? Face covering? What the hell? He’d never met this artist in person but he’d enjoyed the piece they’d worked on together, images and ideas flying through the web. B (as the man/women only referred to themselves as) had contacted him, set him the outline of an idea and asked for Virgil’s input. Virgil had seen no harm in it and the idea had caught his imagination. The idea of using spay paint as the primary medium was novel, (to him anyway) he’d never used it himself. He’d thought about it but then there would be spray paint in Gordon’s easy reach and that would never end well. Ever polite Virgil said he would try but of course rescues took priority. And the 18th was his birthday after all. 2am London time was 1pm island time.

But two weeks later Virgil found himself finishing a rescue in Scotland just after midnight. Lady Penelope had already called, offering him a bed for the night stating “how distressing it was for him to be out on a rescue the night before him birthday”. He hadn’t the heart to inform her that as far as he was concerned it already was his birthday, the call had come in at 7am on the 18th island time and he’d travelled 11,426 miles west. So, as Gordon was found of saying he’d ‘turned back time’. By 11 hours this time making it 9pm on the 17th August when he’d arrived in Scotland. (If they went east it Gordon said ‘back to the future.’) Lady Penelope had promised him a birthday breakfast and presents. How could he resist her offer or his own curiosity? To say he hadn’t thought about B’s invitation would be a lie. He’d found himself absentmindedly sketching out their piece a few times over the past week. It wouldn’t hurt to go would it? Mind made up Virgil landed Thunderbird 2 on the Creighton-Ward estate, changed on board while calling a cab (no way was he waking Parker up) and lastly informed John where he was off to, promising to keep his coms on but giving his first youngest brother no further information.

Virgil arrived early and took the opportunity to walk Leake Street tunnel, he knew it was an established graffiti spot ever changing, but had never took the time to look for himself. It was interesting, a mix of different styles and abilities. Some pieces thoughtful, others not but all lived together (and on top of each other) here in this one space.

“V?”

Virgil stun round, spotting a man with a buff pulled up over his mouth and nose, the hood from his hoodie covering most of the rest of his face.

“B?”

“That’s me. Face covering mate.” It wasn’t a question as a buff was thrown Virgil’s way. He caught it without thinking but didn’t put it on. “Problem?”

“Well it’s just. Is this legal?”

B laughed, “More legal then I usually work. No worries if you don’t want to but I’ve got to get started. 2am round here isn’t all that quiet and I do have a secret identity to protect.”

Virgil pulled on the buff covering his nose and mouth as B had. Virgil’s eyes were wide, B, it couldn’t be? No way? Could he ask?

“Banksy?”

“Yer mate?”

Virgil swallowed, “What do you need me to do?”

Banksy piece is Cave Painting Removal. I'll be doing a separate post in relation to my fanart as it take a few things to create.

[faithautisticandrandom]

The first two proper chapters are focused on Kayo's birthday. 🙂

[seathesilverlinings]

No Fuss, No Muss

I originally planned on doing so much more for @gumnut-logic‘s Kayo Birthday Challenge (I planned to do more for Kayos birthday in general since it’s the only one I’ve had time to produce something for so far!) but life sucks! 😞

I did manage to get this written though!

🖤🖤

She’d told them no fuss.

None.

And absolutely NO party.

She was their sister so they respected her wishes.

But they were her brothers, so they couldn’t just let it go.

It hadn’t taken Kayo long to realise what was going on when her alarm ‘malfunctioned’ and didn’t go off at six o’clock like she had set it; Allowing her to sleep in until she woke up naturally. And it definitely didn’t go unnoticed that breakfast was her favourite, hot, and fresh, and waiting for her when she made her way down to the kitchen.

The full breakfast table was the nicest surprise. Nobody missing on a rescue, nobody up in space and refusing to come down. Nobody skipping breakfast in place of another activity or sleeping the day away. It even included Penelope and Parker whose last minute visit had been suspiciously timed. Penelope had made a very unspecific, offhand comment about being tired of hopping from social engagement to social engagement when questioned.

But how they had managed to pull this part off, was beyond her.

It had been empty. Empty. When she had returned to her bedroom to shower and change after breakfast (waking up late had meant she’d joined Virgil and Alan in attending breakfast in pyjamas) the room had been just how she had left it. She wasn’t exactly known for taking long showers either.

So how on earth had the pile of presents that definitely were not there before managed to arrive on her bed, and so neatly too, without her noticing? They were all wrapped differently. A couple had ribbon and bows; two that were stuck together were adorned with brightly coloured fish; another was a gift bag practically exploding with star patterned tissue paper; one in silver and black striped paper was wrapped immaculately, the red one next to it was a little more crumpled and messy; the biggest was a large box in the middle sealed securely with duct tape but made pretty with a big green bow.

She sat down on the bed, spoilt for choice but drawn in by the biggest box. Before she had a chance to touch any of them though, there was a knock on her door. 

She paused, waiting for someone to enter like they usually did after knocking. But nothing happened.

Strange.

“Come in?” She called.

The only answer she received was another knock. 

“I said come in?!”

Another knock.

“Oh for…” Kayo grumbled, getting up from the bed.

She pulled the door open quickly, but she ended up being the startled one.

“Happy birthday!” 

Everyone was stood outside her door with MAX in the middle holding a very elaborate cake decorated with bright tropical flowers and a small fondant model of Thunderbird Shadow sitting on top. 

“But I…”

Scott was the first to give a smiling shrug.

“We know you didn’t want a fuss…” 

“But we couldn’t just let your birthday slide,” 

“Not without something special,” 

“And personally, I don’t think this counts as fuss!” 

“N-not at all!” 

“Simply cake and presents,”

“H’after all, it only comes around once a year,”

“So you’ve gotta have a little fun!”

“We all love you very much dear, so you’re not getting away with it that easily,”

[cg29]

Not written anything for this year’s birthday so reblogging this for @gumnut-logic Virgil’s birthday challenge

Since the gorgeous Virgil’s birthday is coming up this week I’ve decided to share a birthday fic from a couple of years back 🎂

Birthday Wish: Available on Ao3 & FFNet - CreativeGirl29 or read below 👇

💚💚💚💚

Eighteen.

My first without you

Only one month you’d been gone

Our tears were still new.

Yet despite our grief

and my reluctance to celebrate

A party was given

In honour of the date.

Family and close friends

And no rescue calls

A good time was had

By one and all.

Then right at the end

After many speeches filled with praise

A cake was presented

With candles ablaze

Close your eyes they said

And concentrate really hard

Then make a wish

For whatever is in your heart.

So, I closed my eyes

And those candles I blew

I wished for you to return

But it never came true.

…

Nineteen and Twenty

One injured, the other a major rescue call

Yet at the end of each day

I was presented with a birthday ball

After food and drinks

And everyone felt contented

A cake with candles aflame

Was once again presented

Time to make a wish

My family all said

So I hoped and I prayed

And I pictured you in my head

Then, I closed my eyes

And those candles I blew

I wished for you to return

But it never came true.

…

Twenty-One.

Was the biggest of them all

Except by pretending to forget

Their plans went slightly AWOL

A diversion rescue

That was meant to just stall

Swallowed my whole day

And made me miss this year’s ball

The very next day

Although I’d protested

They offered to make it up

And a birthday cake was presented.

I gazed down

Twenty-one candles all gleamed

All awaiting my hopes

And my dreams

So, I closed my eyes

And those candles I blew

I wished for you to return

But it never came true.

… …

Twenty-Two and Twenty-Three

Had candles shining bright

Would these years come true

If I wished with all of my might

So, I closed my eyes

And those candles I blew

I wished for you to return

But it never came true.

… …

Twenty-Four

A trip to our other home

Gran Roca Ranch

Where we had all grown.

A morning with the horses

An afternoon barbecue

The evening watching the sunset

Where my silent thoughts turned to you

Were you still out there

Or were you really gone

Would we ever know

Or was it time we moved on.

Except I couldn’t give in

Not yet, not ever

This year if I wished harder

Maybe my next birthday would be better

So, I closed my eyes

And those candles I blew

I wished for you to return

And on my twenty-fifth birthday it came true.

[gumnut-logic]

Birthday Challenge

John Tracy

We have another birthday coming up!

So here are some prompts to play with to celebrate :D

There are twelve different ideas, one for each month of the year he is celebrating. (I only chose the number twelve because it was convenient and fit the idea, so in no way do you have do a challenge a month or anything like that. It’s just twelve challenges to choose from.)

You can do one or more, you can fic, you can art, the only requirement is that John is in there somewhere. He doesn’t even have to star in the fic, but he has to be there. After all, it is his birthday.

There are conflicting dates for John’s actual birthday, but they are both in October, so whichever you celebrate, throwing this into October should capture all comers. Whumptober is also in October. you are welcome to combine the challenges, though I’m not sure John would agree :D

Tag all entries with #TBBirthdayChallenge and #TBBirthdayChallenge2021

Other than that, no rules other than play nice and create stuff! Let’s explore Johnny :D

Nutty

(text version of the challenge list below the cut)

Birthday Challenge - John Tracy - October

ROMANTIC JOHN Explore his loving side - who do you see him with?

HISTORICAL JOHN Explore something from his past.

JOHN & A FAMILY MEMBER Have him do something with a family member.

GENIUS!JOHN Have him do something really smart.

JOHN @ WORK Explore John on the job.

AU!JOHN Explore John from an alternate universe.

INJURED JOHN We all love a little hurt/comfort.

STARS IN HIS EYES What does he want most in life?

TINY JOHN We all love a little wee!Tracys.

FUTURE JOHN What do you see in John’s future?

JOHN FROM AN OUTSIDE POV How do others see him? How does the world?

JOHN’S BIRTHDAY How does he celebrate? And with who?

[whatgaviiformes]

Thunderteers: Oak and Ivory

Summary: It’s a Thursday in the summer of 1776, and the USS Thunderbird is docked in port in New England. For Virgil, it brings him the gift of inspiration, starting with a rare morning off and a warbler…

Word count: 6.7K Characters: Mainly Virgil, but all the brothers are a part of this one Genre: Slice of Life

A/N: You should not need to read Voyage of the USS Thunderbird to understand this story, as this is a separate one-shot simply set in the same universe. For this AU, the Tracy brothers are all officers on the USS Thunderbird, a merchant ship that sails the seas in the late 1700s.

If you would like still to take a gander at Voyage of the USS Thunderbird, links are here. just note it is in WIP status  FF | Ao3

Enjoy! Thanks for giving this universe a read!   Thanks to @gumnut-logic for the birthday challenge and read through, and @godsliltippy​ and @the-original-sineater​ for listening to me gripe and being ever so kind about it, and finally to my husband who is, as always, my onsite historian and biggest fan (even if he doesn’t get this whole fanfiction thing).  ---

Port of Eden, 1776 – a Thursday

For a town named Eden, the jagged shoreline up New England in what was the Massachusetts Bay territory boasted more mountainous rock than it did verdant gardens. Past the crags and the low hills, dense forest swathed the land in pine, spruce, maple, and ash, all grown thick, unruly, and uncultivated.

Inland, she was still as wild as she was on the shore, even with the splattering of local settlements along the rivers.  Fishing was robust, lumber was in easy supply, and the townsfolk had even started agricultural trading with their allies.  

It made Eden and her neighboring villages highly contested among the peoples of this land for her vigorous resources alone. Just half a day’s journey nor’east was the trading post along the Machias river, where last year local patriots had captured the HMS Margaretta, and a few months later their prize landed their homes razed under the incensed, retaliatory fire of four British ships.

Though, to be fair, the HMS Margaretta had been intending to bring supplies to the Loyalist troops under siege in Boston, and Patriot ideals this far North were both passionate and pervasive. The ire may have had more to do with that than the resources of the region. But, if the British ever did manage to overtake some of the land, it would be a huge hit to the Colonies.

The nearby lumber also made the towns ideal as centers of shipbuilding – and ship repair. That was why the Thunderbird was docked in Eden in the first place after a brief run-in with the British along the coast landed one well-placed cannonball to the Thunderbird’s portside.

As a merchant ship, they’d only carried cotton and fruits, but the British didn’t know that.

While Alan, their young gunner, had fired back, likely completely missing the ship at that distance, Scott had them re-route and head to friendly waters where they’d get back up if, for some reason, the ship decided to pursue. It hadn’t – the warning shot had been just that – but it left a hole in their bird’s side that was a glaring safety hazard, even if it wasn’t crippling.

The Thunderbird still had her speed. But they’d learned not to take safety concerns lightly ever again. For weeks before Gordon’s accident, the foremast yard had been tilting. They hadn’t fixed it then because doing so would’ve taken them off course completely, and it had seemed so small. Gordon had paid the price, even as careful as he always was when it came to rope and sails and the oak of her foundations. It was the first time the sea had taken something from him. And in doing so, it took something from them all, a spark that would never quite be the same again.

But Gordon endured, and Virgil was thankful they still had their light-hearted boatswain with their crew, even if the lilt in his song resonated through the sails with just a bit more intensity than it did before.

The subject of his thoughts groaned beside him as frigid water streamed through the bed of rocks under his back. Virgil had settled himself on a large rock nearby for the purposes of keeping his sketchpad dry as he drew the outline of the warbler flittering among the stones a few feet away. The side of Virgil’s palm was smeared with the dark color of the graphite rod in his left hand, and it had managed to spread to his cheeks sometime during the transposition of the small sea bird onto the page.  

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[dreamycloud]

Currently halfway through writing my Kayo/Wayne one shot for the “Romantic Kayo” fic prompt!!!

I should finish on time and post it tomorrow. Very, very excited that the birthday challenge came along at the right time! I’ve been so looking forward to writing about these two! (And making some gifs because why not?)

[olliepig]

I had so, so much fun working on this! Poor Kayo. I’m sure it’s not quite what she had in mind, but it’s what she ended up with.

I got the joy of doing a collab with the ever awesome @olliepig so we could bring you this, our offering for @gumnut-logic Kayo birthday challenge. You get a little of everything here, her birthday, her favourite things, secrets, lies, tiny Kayo and a sprinkling of Romance. Ooooh yeahhhhh. What more could you want?

Happy birthday Kayo! We're very sorry to put you through this.

Snippet:

“Together?” Cat asked.

“Together,” Selene confirmed. 

As one they both lifted their hands and banged hard on the hotel room door.

They heard the sound of a viciously spat curse word from inside, then nothing. 

“Again,” Selene commanded and they banged again, hammering on the door.

Another swear word and then the sound of a bed creaking and shuffling feet. A minute later and the door swung open to reveal a sleepy, ruffled and not too happy, Captain Wayne Rigby.

“What are you doing here?” he grumbled. “I thought we agreed to meet there.”

“You suggested we do that, we never agreed,” Cat argued.

“Dude, you could have at least put on something to cover up that manly chest,” Selene grinned, making a kitty scratch motion with her hand. “Rawww.”

“Shut up,” he growled, obviously unashamed to be seen in nothing but his boxers at 8 in the morning.

“She up yet?” Selene continued as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. 

“No, and neither should I be yet.”

“Lies,” Selene huffed, shoving him aside and sailing into the suite, carrying two garment bags. Cat grabbed the remaining two and the accessories box and hurried in after her.

Rigby sighed and shut the door, knowing he was beaten.

“What the hell are those two idiots doing here?” Kayo yelled from the bedroom, making Rigby wince. “How did they even know where we were?”

Kayo stuck her head around the door to glare at them. “Did you get John to hack my mail?”

Selene and Cat both adopted identical expressions of innocence as they hung two of the garment bags from the bathroom door frame. 

Rigby shifted uncomfortably.

“You told them?” Kayo accused, spearing him with a look.

“They bullied me!” he yelled. “They tortured me!”

Kayo glanced back at the girls who were smiling sweetly.

“They tortured you? You, a Captain with the GDF, were bullied by two civilians?”

“You weren’t there,” he protested. “You didn’t suffer it.”

Kayo rolled her eyes at the big idiot.

Read the rest here on Ao3

[cg29]

This was a wonderful insight. 💚

Two

A fic for Virgil's birthday from an unusual point of view. Somewhat covering the "Outside POV" and "Virgil at Work" titles on the birthday challenge list.

Thank you @gumnut-logic for the read through, and for setting up this birthday event to prod me into finishing this one!

The sudden opening of my overhead hatch by remote access wakes me from my slumber. He’s coming. My pilot. There must be a situation. If it were anything else the hatch would have been opened manually, and if it were any other pilot it would be the lower hatch, not the one above my cockpit. He swings down from the end of his chute, his boots hit the checker plate of my cockpit floor and he reaches up to close the hatch. There is an automated close control, so he doesn’t have to do it by hand, but it is quicker and much more satisfying when he does. The solid thunk as it shuts both feels and sounds more secure, more reassuring than the slow, quiet, automatic closure. And it signals the unofficial beginning of our next adventure together. He smiles every time he pulls the hatch closed – there is a certain excitement in the urgency of a launch. Someone needs us, and we have to fly.

My pilot is unique. No one else treats me the way he does, or understands me like he does. He knows me better than any other human, more intimately than even the creator himself. The creator is the one responsible for my original design and build, but I suspect my pilot may have had a little input. He has certainly had a creative hand in upgrades and repairs, and prefers to do as much hands on maintenance work as he can, often working alongside the creator and his robotic assistant when he can’t complete the work on his own. The creator may well know every nut and bolt and wiring loom, every function and capability to the letter of the specifications, but my pilot knows I am more than a marvellous piece of engineering.

He knows me in the air – how I will respond to any weather conditions, any sudden changes, and every little twitch of my controls. My pilot knows my limits in practice, not just on paper and by the numbers. He will push me when it’s needed and knows when I have given all I can. We have nursed each other home battle-scarred and wounded on many an occasion. He will apologise whenever my abilities are stretched beyond capacity, whenever there is damage, and every time he needs to pull me apart for repairs. I don’t need the apologies. He takes care of me, and I will do my best to take care of him.

My pilot feels affection for me. He shows it in so many little ways, like the absent minded way he’ll trail his hand along the surface of my hull as he passes, or contentedly hum along with the rumble of my engines. It’s evident in the way he speaks to me. Barely audible whispers of greeting, or thanks for a job well done. Impassioned pleas to give just a little more in desperate times, often followed by relieved words of thanks accompanied by a loving rub of my dash, or forehead resting against a bulkhead with a relieved sigh once the crisis is over. He speaks to me in words of encouragement and praise. He believes in me and relies on me, and in return I will give him everything he asks of me. For him I will push my limits to do what he needs me to do, to get us all home safe.

He calls me beautiful. I know that I am not, but it is good to hear him say it. Strong and dependable I may be, but not beautiful – except perhaps in his eyes. I am not sleek and shiny like my sister ‘birds One and Three. Nor am I built for speed like them, but I am proud of my capabilities. Still one of the fastest machines in the air despite my grand size and considerable weight, I am versatile and able to carry just about any cargo imaginable. Sometimes I wish I could be faster, but I know that some things are more important. Without me it would be impossible to get specialised heavy equipment to where it is needed, my medical bay is the best equipped and largest in International Rescue’s fleet, and I am capable of carrying a large number of people to safety. If I were to fail in my duties it would make the job of my pilot and his colleagues immeasurably difficult. So, I must not fail.

He sings to me. When he’s working on repairs or maintenance, when he’s tidying the cockpit or restocking the medical supplies, or sometimes, when we’re flying alone. His voice resonates through my systems and reflects off my surfaces and harmonises with my own sounds. I like when he sings. He seems to do it when he’s happy, comfortable – content. None of the others ever sing to me. The Co-pilot – the one who belongs to Four – he sings sometimes, but it’s not the same. He seems to sing as a distraction, to change the prevailing mood in the cockpit, or just for his own entertainment. His singing is loud and raucous, but not necessarily bad.

Others have flown me when my pilot has been unable to. It is never the same. The Commander, One’s pilot, is always trying to rush me, wanting me to be something I am not. He is impatient with me and grumbles that I am not fast enough. He gets frustrated if I do not respond immediately to the slightest adjustment of my controls, and yet he will often take an extra fraction of a second to find the switch or lever he needs because he is used to flying a different ‘bird. I understand his sense of urgency, but flying for him is sometimes hard work, as though he is fighting me instead of working with me.

The Co-pilot, Four’s pilot is better. Four and I are like the closest of sisters in many ways. We are often called to work together as I am able to carry her to locations she cannot reach fast enough alone. As a result her pilot and mine work together often, and he gets to see first hand how my pilot handles my controls. When he is required to take over piloting duties he emulates what he has seen my pilot do, right down to voicing encouraging words when needed. He is a good pilot, but he lacks a little confidence in himself, as though he is afraid of doing something wrong and causing damage to another’s ‘bird. He means well and he is trying to connect with me on some level, but it is not the same as the partnership I have with my pilot.

The little one, Three’s pilot is somewhere in between those two. He has that nervousness about him, the fear of making a mistake flying a ‘bird that’s not his, and he seems to have a desire to prove himself so he’ll try and do things his way instead of feeling and listening to what I need. At the same time he is inclined to want to rush and expect me to respond more like One or Three instead of doing things my way, but he seems more comfortable adjusting his piloting style than the Commander is.

The other – the Voice from the stars – only really flies me remotely. I have no tangible connection with him. Remote piloting is clinical, calculated, precise and impersonal. He does not communicate directly with me through voice or touch, only electronics. He relies on numbers and sensor readings rather than human senses like my pilot does. I know it is necessary at times for this intangible Voice to take control this way, but it is a lonely way to fly.

My pilot’s strong hands are gentle, nimble and sure in their movements across my controls as he completes pre-flight procedures. The module we need for the job has been selected, loaded and secured into place – part of me, but not. The modules, the pods, the machines and equipment I carry are perhaps like accessories or clothing for a human – it is possible to fly without them, but they are still a part of my complete work-ready attire.

The hangar door is opening and we are rolling. My pilot gently caresses a hand across my dash and quietly utters “Here we go, girl.” The launch pad tilts and the countdown begins. I am a Thunderbird, and my engines rumble into a roar. I bring the thunder, and with my pilot, together we ride the lightning.

“Thunderbird Two is go!”

[cg29]

Wonderful 💚

Image source: https://twitter.com/tonys219/status/1046820392470556673

Virgil’s Birthday

Virgil sat in the sand wearing only his board shorts, squishing the sand between his toes after returning from his swim.

The waves lapped at the shore just a few metres away, crashing before receding in small ripples. The small fire he’d built smouldering in front of him, orange embers against the black coals.

The sun was setting, creating a rainbow of pinks and orange across the horizon, as Virgil stared out over the ocean.

He shivered slightly, poking at the fire with a stick and adding another log to keep it burning, before pulling his beach towel around his shoulders.

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[gumnut-logic]

I forgot the tag!

Tag all entries #TBBirthdayChallenge and #TBBirthdayChallenge2021

Nutty

(forgetting things since the 1970s)

Birthday Challenge

Tanusha ‘Kayo’ Kyrano

A little bird told me that Kayo’s birthday is coming up and I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to launch a new challenge.

Here we have twelve different ideas, one for each month of the year she is celebrating. (I only chose the number twelve because it was convenient and fit the idea, so in no way do you have do a challenge a month or anything like that. It’s just twelve challenges to choose from.)

You can do one or more, you can fic, you can art, the only requirement is that Kayo is in there somewhere. She doesn’t even have to star in the fic, but she has to be there. After all, it is her birthday.

I’m thinking this challenge could run at least until her birthday in two weeks time, and if we need it, it can flow over for another two weeks. But as you know with all my challenges, there are no real time limits, the key is just finding the spark to create at any time.

Other than that, no rules other than play nice and create stuff! So have at it and let’s discover more about the beautiful Tanusha.

Nutty

(text version of the challenge list below the cut)

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