#marion van arkle

[hebuiltfive]

Once Bitten Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

AO3 link here!

Scott, one of the most excelled vampire hunters for the last century, has one last battle with the vampire who’s claimed him as her arch-enemy.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

I hadn't been sure if I'd be able to get anything out in time (October has been a wild month) but here we are! The morning of the 31st with a story I'm quite proud of for once!

There is a potential for this to be expanded upon, and I do really want to write more for this AU... I just have many fics on the go at the moment and no real time to get them written, so we'll see!

-------------------------

Scott hated a cliché. “Time heals all wounds”just wasn’t true, “thinking outside the box”was just dumb, and Gordon’s favourite phrase of “there’s plenty of fish in the sea” was so infuriating it often had Scott biting back sarcastic remarks in reply. Clichés were old and tiring. They were unoriginal and uninspiring. If he ever became president, an outcome that was unlikely despite his brothers constantly not-so-jokingly insisting that he “should run sometime”, he’d sincerely consider banning the usage of them. 

Therefore, walking into that disused mine and being greeted by sleeping bats had him understandably almost turning tail.

It was beyond ironic that he, a famed and skilled vampiric hunter, happened across such a scene. He didn’t dare count, cautious of losing time or becoming too distracted, but Scott estimated hundreds of pipistrelles, all handing upside down from the rafters. If he hadn't known better, he’d have called it a coincidence, but the tip-off they’d received earlier that morning suggested this was anything but.

Suppressing a shiver, he carefully passed the sleeping bats, ducking low to avoid disturbing them and being weary of where he was stepping. The floor was littered with old bolts and broken shards of glass. Every step he took delivered a crunch or a snap, and Scott winced each time, praying to an unknown deity that he wouldn’t awake the winged creatures. Night had already fallen and Scott was aware they’d be waking up themselves fairly shortly.

He had long since passed through the adit and had entered the mine proper. Tunnels had led him further and further, deeper and deeper, and the darkness was beginning to press in on him. When he had arrived, the sun had already long since set below the horizon. Cloud cover had meant there was no moonlight to help guide him, so Scott had made his way over to the entrance of the mine with the help of his torch. 

There was something about the mine that had him on edge, and it wasn’t purely because he was alone in the middle of nowhere.  His crossbow that hung over his shoulder was tugged closer, fingers biting into the leather strap that connected the weapon to the holster it was attached to. It was his most trusted trade tool and he never left for a mission without it. Scott trusted it so much, in fact, that he rarely brought another weapon out into the field with him, besides his basic hunting knife. Perhaps it was a foolish move during solo missions, but most of the time, on those specific occasions, Scott saw enough sense to carry extra weaponry.

It wasn’t needed tonight as this wasn’t a solo mission.  Virgil was on his way to provide necessary back-up, only Scott, as usual, had simply raced ahead. It was the arrogance of being certain he could handle whatever was about to be thrown into his face that had fuelled that decision, no matter how much Virgil had pleaded with him to just wait for once. If the tip-off was correct, Scott wouldn’t need back-up from his baby brother. It would be a simple retrieval mission. In and out, home in time for dinner…

Oh, he despised clichés! That was almost as good as nothing could possibly go wrong, and Scott knew how dangerous it was to say that line.

The further he went into the mine, however, the more Scott’s confidence waned. There was a niggling doubt in the back of his mind that had him questioning how wise it had been to bolt ahead. He tried to ignore the sceptic thoughts. There was currently no reason to have any worries about the mission, besides the bats perhaps, but even then, it wasn’t so uncommon to find the winged creatures in old mine buildings.

Before he’d left, John had run a full and detailed analysis of the message — once bitten, twice shy and all that. (Then again, in John’s case, thrice shy might have been more appropriate, though the less said about that, the better.) Nevertheless his brother was always thorough with his investigations, so when he returned to him with the licit figure of ninety per cent, assuring him that this tip-off was trustworthy and not a trap, Scott had no reason to doubt him.

He hadn’t doubted him at all… not until he’d entered the godforsaken place.

Scott ducked into a dug out side room. Inches of dust layered almost every surface, and chains and broken bits of wood strewn across the floor. A desk stood on one side of the room. Scott crossed over, examining the mountains of paperwork that had been abandoned when the mine had closed down decades ago. The sheets were tainted, soiled from time and grime. He began to leaf through them slowly, careful not to disturb too much of the dust. His torch shone beams of light onto the various pieces of parchment, highlighting scrawny handwriting and typed up messages. He didn’t read them, merely scanning the words and numbers for anything that might provide a clue as to why they’d been given the tip-off for here exactly.

As far as the data International Rescue had, the area was not known to be a vampire hot-spot. Being in the middle of nowhere, and thus without a steady flow of hot blood, it was not an ideal place for a nest. Experience, however, had Scott batting away the assumptions. It was never wise to lay any claim when it came to the Night Walkers. 

It wouldn’t have been too much to assume that this could be an elaborate trap of some kind. The thought had first crossed Scott’s mind the moment he’d set eyes on the hundreds of pipistrelles hanging from the ceiling. Nevertheless, he kept up his search. The clue had to be around somewhere, he just needed to find it.

The unbound sheets offered him no help and he dropped them to the floor one by one, dust particles rising as he did so. The specks irritated his throat and Scott found himself wishing he’d brought along a small bottle of water with him. He cleared his throat a few times as quietly as possible, still not convinced he wasn’t alone in the mine, but after inhaling a rather petulant granule, he succumbed to a violent coughing fit. His eyes watered and his breathing became erratic, but he soon managed to regain his composure. Scott wiped the tear trails from his cheeks with the back of his hand and continued on his search.

The dirtiest item on the desk was a large ledger. Scott opened it in a more methodic manner than he had dropped the parchment, fearful of breathing in another round of irritant dust. Yellowed paper greeted him, blank ink scrawling out lists of names. There must have been hundreds. Scott scanned them, the tip of his finger brushing against the sheets, collecting black dust. Some names had been crossed out with a simple line, while others had been violently scribbled. On occasion, the pen had clearly gone through the paper. 

“You won’t find the answers you’re looking for in there.”

Scott slammed the registry book shut and whirled around to face the newcomer. The shadowed figure stood in the doorway to the alcoved room, just out of sight, but he recognised the voice; cold, calculating and bitter. The words had been spoken in his head. She never did miss an opportunity to show off her telepathy skills.

“I can’t say I’m surprised that 47 sent you.” He replied, calm and casual. He’d be damned if he let the trepidation get the better of him, and he certainly wasn’t going to let her notice it.

“47 doesn’t know either of us are here. If I’m being honest, I’m hurt you won’t give me credit where it’s due.”

As the realisation clicked, Scott’s lips curved into a lazy smile. He shone the flashlight straight into her face, and Marion Van Arkel hissed and recoiled, momentarily blinded.

But Scott did not move to attack.

“He won’t be happy to know you’ve been planning your own missions.”

“He doesn’t need to know.”

“Still,” Scott continued, gesturing to the rotten rafters and girders, “you picked a nice place for an ambush. A mine? Nice touch, Van Arkel.”

Marion, her sight having returned to near perfect vision, advanced towards him. Her heeled boots clicked across the debris-littered floor and her lips twisted into a smug smirk. Whether they were red from paint or from blood, Scott couldn’t tell.

“I thought it would a fitting location to finally end this game of cat and mouse, no? Full circle, or whatever it is they say.”

God, how he hated clichés.

“Still hurt about your family going out of business?” To his credit, Scott attempted to sound as sincere as possible as he delivered the derision.

Marion, however, sensed his mockery and glowered. She stopped in her tracks, her arms folding across her chest in an overly exaggerated manner. “No thanks to you, I might add.”

He let out a low whistle, clearly amused by her discontent. “An heiress to a dead company. I'd offer you my condolences but I’m afraid I have no pity left to give.”

“You had plenty to give the humans—”

“They were innocent people!”

“They had no idea what was happening to them!” Marion retorted sharply. “Being enthralled means they know nothing.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” He frowned, scowling in disgust at her attempts to defend her family’s actions. “It’s a fate worse than death in some cases. They don’t call it Eternal Nightmares for nothing, you know!”

She caught sight of his altered demeanour, heard how his tone changed from taunting to revulsion, and Marion Van Arkel did what she did best; she pounced on it.  “Does that make you angry? To think about all those humans you’d failed to save from these Eternal Nightmares, as you put it?” She approached him slowly, her eyes glazed over with humour, laughing at his loathing. Some things never changed.

“You lured me here.” Scott changed topic, unwilling to allow her to jump onto his discomfort and use it to her advantage. “You lured me without the go ahead from your boss. Why?”

“I told you.” Marion lowered her voice to a whisper. “To end our game!”

“All you’ve done since you’ve got here is talk.”

“Do you not like talking?”

“Well, I fail to see how it will ‘end our game’.”

“All in good time, hunter. Patience is a virtue.”

Scott bit his tongue. If he heard one more damned cliché—!

His smile returned, easy and warm, without a trace of irritation. Marion’s words had left him feeling uneasy but all he had to do was wait, as she so instructed. Perhaps talking was good. It gave Virgil time to reach them… Not that he needed the back-up! Marion Van Arkel was a slippery vampire, one who Scott had been at odds with on a number of occasions over the last few years, but she was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Still, he’d have been lying if he said he wouldn’t have felt more at ease knowing there was someone else fighting in his corner.

“I’ve never been good at patience, Van Arkel.”

“So I’ve surmised. It’ll be your downfall, you know? You’ll rush ahead, just as you did tonight, so desperate to get the job over and done with, only one day you won’t get out of it. One day, you’ll lose.”

His cocky grin returned, full and flourishing. “And you believe today is that day?”

“I can hope.” Her finger, cold and slender, ran down the length of his jaw line,

Something twinkled in her eyes, something that made Scott feel uncomfortable, like he was left out of a joke and the punchline was soon to come and hit him unawares. 

“I can handle one vampire, Marion, especially if its you.”

He couldn’t let her think his guard was down for a second. Scott tilted his head, observing her curiously. If she hadn’t been a Night Walker, he might have thought her rather pretty. Indeed, he had tried to charm her the first night they’d met, before she’d attempted to eat him. The memory only made his smirk grow wider.

“Remind me again, Van Arkel, how many of our fights have you won?”

Scott paused for her to answer. Of course, she didn’t. He hadn’t expected her too. He watched as her twinkling eyes narrowed into a glare and refrained from chuckling, answering his own question for her. “Zero, wasn’t it?”

“That changes tonight!”

Marion threw the first punch. It was feral and angry, and it carried her forwards as Scott ducked out of the line of impact. She was quick to recover however, and before Scott had the chance to gain an upper-hand, Marion was lunged towards him again. Scott deflected every blow, attempting to land a few himself, but Marion was just as talented a fighter as he was. 47 trained his minions well, and Marion was no exception. She wasn’t as fast as some vampires, but she was still learning.

Legs kicked and bodies leapt, punches struck their marks and blood was left in their wake. Breathless but neither willing to back down, Scott and Marion continued their fight for minutes before she slipped up again, only this time Scott had been prepared.

As Marion stumbled, losing some of her balance after a particularly nasty hit, Scott circled around her. He caught her one of her arms and pulled it backwards, up her spine and into an arm lock. Then, with all his weight, he pushed them both forwards. Within seconds, Scott had her pressed against the rock-face, her second arm pinned at an awkward angle between her body and the wall.

“I don’t think it does.” Scott couldn’t help but smile arrogantly.

Though she was a vampire, and thus possessing vampiric strength, Marion was still classed as, what the hunters called, a Baby Vamp. Less than fifty years old and still learning and developing the traits that often gave vampires the advantages in a fight, Marion couldn’t struggle out of his hold, no matter how much she tried to.

“The night is not over yet, Tracy!”

“You don’t have to be like this. I know you know this is wrong. Marion, please.”

Despite his winning position, and at the risk of sounding like he wasn’t confident in his abilities, Scott had never been above begging. No matter who he was fighting, no matter what harm they had already done, he always gave them the option of redemption. He had seen vampires redeem themselves, albeit very few, and knew it was possible. Being so young, Marion was a prime contender for International rescue’s rehabilitation scheme. All she had to do was say yes.

She never did, however. Tonight was no different.

“You know nothing, Scott Tracy. Let me go!”

Marion struggled against his hold again, desperate to be free of him, but Scott held firm.

“No chance. All I have to do is keep you here until my brother arrives, and then—”

He was unable to finish his sentence. The sound of distant rocks falling echoed through to the alcove. The rumbling became closer and closer.

Marion, still struggling to free herself, began to laugh.

Capitalising on his momentary distractedness, she easily kicked his feet out from under him. To save himself from falling, Scott had no choice but to loosen his hold, but by doing so, Marion was able to finally slip out from his grasp. She delivered a swift kick to his exposed stomach, causing him to stumble to his knees and winding him in the process. As he tried to catch his breath, she sauntered over.

“You make my final win too easy.” Marion lowered herself to his level and pressed her rouged lips to his own. “I’d say let’s try again, go another round, but I’m afraid we’re out of time.”

Scott instinctively licked his lips. He stood to his full height once again, Marion backtracking a few steps. Her grin was wide and wild, not unlike it had been when she’d first entered. It was the smile of a smug winner, although Scott hadn’t bowed out of the fight just yet.

“Who said I let you win?” He slid his crossbow into position. Loaded with a single wooden dart he aimed it directly at Marion’s chest, above her defunct heart. 

To his surprise, she did not attempt to evade his shot.

But she didn’t need to.

In an instant, Scott’s vision blurred, his legs weakening. The crossbow was lowered before he even had the chance to fire it. He blinked, long and hard in hope that it would cure his bleary sight, but when his eyes opened again, Marion had become two fuzzy outlines. 

His fingers reached up to his lips.

His heart sank with dread.

“What did you do?”

“Alright, maybe you didn’t let me win, but don’t think I didn’t notice how easy you let me get the best of you this time. It’s a shame, you know? I had been hoping you’d best me just one more time, that our game of cat and mouse didn’t have to end tonight.”

The crossbow fell from Scott’s grip and dangled at his side. He crashed to his knees as they finally gave out and Marion, assessing it was safe for her to approach him again, did so. She unhooked the crossbow from his baldric and examined it curiously.

“This is such a funny contraption, so outdated. I would have thought you’re genius scientist would have created something more modern for you.” She threw it to the side, wood splintering as it hit the ground. “Still, it’s not like you’ll need it again.”

“What… did you… do?” Scott tried to ask her again but his words seemed to fade before he had the chance to fully realise them.

He started to sag to the side but Marion caught him before he fell. Helping to lower him to the floor, she brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “It’s just a mild tranquilliser, don’t be so dramatic! You’ll be back to your normal self again in around half an hour… not that you’ll live that long.”

Scott could feel his heart quicken. Her cold, slender fingers stretched out across his chest; of course she could sense his fear.

“What… does that… mean? What… have you…?”

“Shush, now. You know, I am sorry it had to end like this…”

“Marion!” Another voice yelled from the tunnels beyond. Scott barely heard them call out, his senses slowly fading. It was another female by the sounds of it, though one he hadn’t heard before… Or maybe he had? Thinking was becoming a problem.

“Hurry up before you get trapped in there!”

“I’m coming!” Marion yelled in reply.

Scott winced.

“Like I said, it is a shame it has to end this way, Scott Tracy.” Marion brushed her fingers gently across his forehead, causing him to shiver. “We could have had so much fun, you and me, but alas, it was not meant to be.”

She stood, blowing him one last kiss, before she sprinted for the exit.

Scott laid in the silence. His eyes slipped shut and he could feel himself slowly fading away to the darkness. Half an hour Marion had said… but why had she dragged him all this way just to send him to sleep? What did she mean he wouldn’t live that long?

By the time the realisation would have hit, as the mine collapsed in on itself, Scott was mercifully unconscious. He didn’t feel the rubble crash down on him, he didn’t notice the pain from the various injuries the accident had dealt him, and he didn’t hear Virgil calling out for him as he painfully dug through the rubble in search of his brother.

There was nothing, and that, he would suppose, was a blessing.

… Damned clichés!

[edutainer2022]

This is for pure amusement (sprung off a prompt). I'm attached to the idea Scott and Marion share custody of Guard Cameron AND harbor a Shakespearean comedic potential. Jeff Tracy gets to be a keen Commander and a cunning father. Col. Casey is not amused. There's a passing reference to BEFORE THE DARK.

Many thanks to @janetm74 for incessant support!

FROM A CERTAIN POINT OF VEIW

"Is.... is somebody there?... Hello?"

The kid's face was nearly drained of color and obviously scared. And oh so young! How early did the GDF enroll now?

The call came through directly to the island via a secure channel and Jeff switched the comm automatically, while engrossed in the backlog of reports at the desk.

"Hello! Mr Tr... Is Mr Tracy there?"

The connection was patchy. Jeff thought he could discern giant pine trees and snow in the background.

"It is I, son. Mr. Tracy. You called International Rescue - how can I help you?"

If at all possible, the boy's eyes grew wider and more anxious.

"N-no! Sc... Is Mr. Scott Tracy there?!"

"Cameron!?! What happened?!"

His eldest stepped back into the lounge, voice ringing with concern. Brown eyes lit up as the GDF kid saw a face he recognized.

"Scott! I mean... Mr. Tracy! I'm... not supposed to be calling you, but Lt. Van Arkle went dark and I..."

"Where are you!?! Sit-rep, soldier!"

Scott was already pulling the lamp handles of his chute down. A structured military address seemed to have pulled the boy on the other end of the call together a bit.

"Siberia, sir! Abandoned nuclear missile silos. Lt. Van Arkle went in to investigate a possible warheads sell-off. She gave orders not to call backup. I didn't know what else to do!"

"You did good, Cameron! I'm on my way! John, upload the coordinates to One!"

Scott was giving clipped orders already from the depths of the launch tube. A befuddled Jeff didn't have the time to wedge a word in sideways as One roared off from the pool and the connection to the hapless GDF soldier got cut off.

***

The rest of the impromptu rescue for Jeff was a jumble of thick worry and palpable annoyance of his sons, incomplete bits and bobs of data, grainy visual feeds from dark bowels of the missile launch labyrinth and a snowed in taiga, in the middle of what looked like a mayhem of a breakneck chase, flashes of shots fired, and at least on one occasion - a fistfight.

Next time he heard his eldest son's voice properly was from the elevator up from the hangars, once One completed the post flight checks. The strong, clear notes were vibrating with what Jeff was rather surprised to identify as distress, liberally overlaid with fury. The sentiment also came in stereo, fully echoed by an unfamiliar female voice:

"YOU COULD HAVE DIED!!!!!"

***

The remarkable cavalcade that subsequently entered the lounge area of the villa consisted of a visibly fuming Scott, his radiation grade uniform covered in muck and scorched areas grazed by laser fire, a young woman, carried in his arms, her GDF uniform in a similar state of dissaray, one boot off, replaced by a velcro sprain brace, and, peeking from behind them, a shy youth Jeff now recognized as Cameron, even paler than before and exuding profound misery. Scott marched to the couches and all but dumped his equally seething cargo on the cushions. Blue eyes were ablaze.

Virgil's move to offer a med scan and help was stopped on its tracks by the sizzle of silent daggers and lightning bolts exchanged between his brother and the Leutenant. In helpless confusion he turnied to Jeff, who was by then thoroughly amused by the whole pantomime. Scott eventually huffed and threw his arms up:

"Dad, meet Lt. Van Arkle, who thinks she could singlehandedly take down the Russian black market for nuclear weapons WITHOUT BACKUP!

"I HAD IT UNDER CONTROL!"

An attempt to jump off the couch was expertly stopped by a pillow, shoved under the injured foot, and an extra bright cerulean glare. Poor young Cameron, temporarily forgotten by all parties involved, was obviously trying to process the immediate proximity of THE Jeff Tracy in the flesh without hyperventilating too conspicuously.

Jeff did his best to stifle a laugh.

"Well, well... I do believe we've met, Leutenant! Albeit the last time around you tried to kill my son with a pool noodle."

The retort died out on the young officer's lips, as John's hologram in the center of the lounge enunciated a mumble maybe too intentionally:

"That certainly became a habit..."

Perplexed, Jeff was still quick to pave over the awkward pause.

"How's old Willem Van Arkle doing, Marion?"

The indignant stare up at Scott's full imposing height was momentarily deflated.

"Um... my father died... sir. After the mines were shut down he just... gave up..."

It was his turn to choke on the foot in his mouth. Blue eyes searched his gaze - free of ire and brimming with protective compassion. That definitely tumbled into a hole he didn't anticipate.

"I'm so very sorry for your loss!"

He meant it, of course. But Jeff Tracy also prided himself for nothing else if not quick thinking on the go.

"Now, kids, you need to get your reports straight for the GDF. Scott, do show the Leutenant up to the guestrooms at the Roundhouse. I insist you cross-reference your stories before the official debrief. Boys, would you show Cameron around the island? How do you like the pool, son?"

A half-nod from Dad was enough for Gordon to get the cue and drag Cameron and Alan out to the poolside. There was soon laughter and splashes and, possibly, a watergun fight. Jeff turned a pointed gaze at Scott, still towering over a notably subdued Marion on the couch.

"I suggest you get to it, Bluejay. You two don't have all day! We shall show our guests some patented Tracy hospitality, right? I'll let you know when dinner's ready."

Scott might have stifled an eyeroll, as he bent down to pick Marion up again and head for the elevator. Virgil jerked to the hidden closet, eager to offer the hoverchair or crutches Jeff himself had to use until recently, struggling against muscle atrophy. Dad's firm hand landed on the boy's shoulder and stalled the move with a squeeze.

At least there was no struggle or squabble that time around. Not till the elevator doors hissed shut, anyway. The whir of well-calibrated machinery was soon muted by overlapping shouts:

"YOU COULD HAVE DIED!!!!!"

Big, apprehensive brown eyes searched Jeff's face, full of doubt.

"Are you sure about that, Dad? They're gonna kill each other!"

"That's one way of looking at it, son."

The twinkle in his eyes was full of mischief.

***

Colonel Casey squinted at him, the hologram blue adding to the scorn. The dinner came and went and the lounge was, blissfully, quiet. The Tinies dragged Cameron down to the beach. John checked out to go over Scott's helmet camera footage - whatever was legible through heavy interference. MAX was sent up to the Roundhouse with a dinner platter once it was obvious the reports review took longer than expected. Or, maybe, precisely as long as expected. Gordon might have suggested to contract EOS for proof of life, which got poor impressionable Cameron to choke on a charred burrito.

"Is IR going rogue or are you trying to poach the GDF best and brightest to expand?"

The old friend's holo was burning a hole in his chest and Jeff felt himself smile into the sip of scotch. That was certainly one way of looking at it.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Hello! For the WIP game, I’m very intrigued by….. well, all the titles, really. But to keep things simple: TAG Mundus Occidit Fratrum Meum and TAG Rarepair

MOFM was already asked about here so I won't repeat myself beyond a warning that it's probably the darkest thing I've ever seriously started to write so watch out for potentially triggering stuff over there.

TAG Rarepair is exactly what it says on the tin. This doc is more notes than actual written snippets of story so far, but I'll talk a little bit about the history of how this came to be, and see where we go from there.

People who were around when I was most active in the TAG fandom will know that I dislike Kayo and I can't stand the Scayo ship at all - which ended up reaching a rather surprising conclusion. I used to write a lot from prompt lists (and I wish I still had the free time to keep writing like that because it was fun and I still have so many yet-unanswered in my inbox), and there was one list in particular that I remember eyeing some of the options in fear - because this was before I'd really made my stance on Scayo, in particular, clear, and one of the potential prompts on the list was very obviously romantic, and I was worried someone would request it with Scott and Kayo.

I worried so much about this, in fact, that I twisted the prompt round and round and round in my head until I realised that if this scenario did occure (it did not, luckily no-one has ever asked me to write Scayo and at this point I will be very surprised if anyone ever does - please don't) I had a crafty little escape plan in place. Namely, I would pair Kayo up with some other character and twist the prompt so that she and Scott are talking about her other half. Obviously, I never needed this escape route, but it was certainly a relief when I found it.

As for who I paired Kayo up with... another Scott ship I hate is Scott/Marion (actually, I'll be honest, there isn't really a Scott ship I like at all, barring Penelope under certain circumstances). Kayo and Marion, meanwhile, seem like the sort of partnership where no-one around them will ever be safe but they'll have the time of their lives, and after a while my random little crackship made as a get out of jail free card started growing on me, so I started wondering if I could actually make a story out of their relationship. Will I ever actually write this? Unlikely, but it ended up being fun to think about.

There's a very small snippet of something written for this, though, at the end of the note-filled doc, so have a couple of paragraphs:

“Kayo,” Scott said, a little wearily, although she could only tell because she’d known him for so long, “this is Lieutenant Marion van Arkle, the GDF’s expert on nuclear power.”  He gestured towards the short woman in her radiation-rated GDF uniform.  “Lieutenant, this is Kayo Kyrano.” Kayo knew all about Marion van Arkle, of course.  She’d never met the woman in person before now, but she’d dug into everything she could find out about her since the uranium mine fiasco not far from Pretoria – just one of many ‘rescues’ that could have been avoided if it wasn’t for her uncle’s greedy plots – where she’d almost killed Scott. Scott had seemed to be content to let bygones be bygones, even going so far as to get the woman a job – not that Kayo could really disapprove of that; if the nuclear expert was under the GDF’s control, she wasn’t being a potential wildcard, and uranium expertise was a dangerous wildcard – but Scott was a hypocrite like that.  If it had been any of the rest of them bashed unconscious, trapped under a mech suit, and almost radiation-poisoned to death, Scott would have been the first person in line with the threats. Just look at his strained relationship with the Mechanic. In the absence of Scott’s ire, Kayo had stepped up instead.  The woman was still dangerous – while not the threat in Scott’s second encounter with her at Shackleton, her hypocritical nature towards Fuse’s right to be saved hadn’t escaped any of them. Not even Scott, and Kayo knew that was the reason behind his slight weariness in his voice. Now wasn’t strictly speaking the time to assess the woman in person, to match the live thing with the reams of data and holographic images Kayo had amassed of her throughout her life – from a young girl playing in crosscut tunnels to the lieutenant standing before her now – but Kayo’s job was to gather as much information on potential threats as she could. Marion van Arkle was certainly a potential threat.

[eos-in-orbit]

Traitor Ratings

We complied a list of people in the GDF who could be working for the Hood.

Colonel Casey: 4/10.

Plot twist of the year, high ranking enough to be above suspicion.

Good friends with Jeff, 'almost family' to the Tracys, could have shut IR down years ago and given the thunderbirds to the Hood.

Lieutenant Marion Van Arkle: 4/10. Has associated with the Hood before, ruthless.

Have only encountered her twice, she fancies the pants off Scott, passionate about arresting bad guys.

Ned Tedford: 3/10. Would not be suspected, appears everywhere.

Lives in the Arctic, low ranking, clumsy, best friend is a plant.

Gladys: 2/10. See above. Is a plant.

Colonel Martin Janus: 10/10. Has worked for the Hood to destabalise IR before.

Is in prison so it can't be him.

Captain Ridley O'Bannon: 5/10. Confident enough to pull it off, good at talking people into doing things.

Works in space.

Captain Wayne Rigby: 7/10. Appeared shortly after the Chaos Crew, didn't want to work with IR (or IR intelligence agents), perfectly placed for passing information about the GDF and IR to the Hood, his hair is an odd colour.

Kayo seems to trust him, serious about his job.

Cameron: 0/10. Too pure. Too remote and too low ranking.

[yllamse]

I’m not too sure as to what brought this sketch on but...I imagine that Scott is kind of giving Marion a hard time. Something about how she tried to kill him three times and he still saved her from the elevator and from falling to her death. ...TWICE. Let us not forget that he helped her get her current job... I dunno.  I’m sleep deprived because of insomnia.  So I leave this up to interpretation. :P Enjoy the sketch

[tracyscotttracy]

Snog Marry Avoid -- Captain Jane Carter, Marion Van Arkle, and Kayo

Ooooh, gonna have to think about this one.

Kayo first. If I tried to snog her she would slap me. Well, to be honest she would roundhouse me, and I would probably need a lot of stitches and dental work. If I asked her to marry me she would laugh and have me commited. So let’s stick with a safe avoid there.

The other two ladies? Marion??? Can I avoid two please, she is a handful to say the least and would drive me mad. Jane Carter? Jane…oh, yes. That plane rescue, right? Pretty, flirty, but everthing else was just business. 

Okay. Having thought about this, A slight change. 

Snog Jane Carter (she was quite hot). Avoid Marion. Kayo I would marry because we can have an intelligent conversation without wanting to kill each other, I trust her with my life, and really … do you need any more reason than that for a life partner?

[tsarinatorment]

Scott for the character ask?

Scott!  Where do I even start with my favourite boy? *jumps up and down in excitement*  I should probably apologise for beating him up so much in my fics, I love you really, Scott!

Favourite thing about them: I repeat: where do I even start?  He’s such a good big brother and big brothers just about every kid and teenager they have to rescue (Henry, Bee, yes, even Brandon), but I think his best character trait is his willingness and determination to save everyone, no matter what.  Small, totally understandable, blip with the Hood in Brains vs Brawn, but you have Kat Cavanaugh, who was trying to ruin them, Marion van Arkle, who tried to kill him, and - most poignant of all imo - *Fuse* in Chain Reaction.  The guy blows up an underwater volcano and so nearly kills one of his little brothers, but he still doesn’t even hesitate to save his life and I just aaaaaaaa.

It’s a trait all the Tracys have, of course, but for some reason it hits me harder with Scott, maybe because he’s the most consciously aware that the moment they start picking and choosing who to save, they betray IR and therefore their Dad?  *glares at Kayo in S1 trying to get IR into the ‘hunting bad guy business’*

Least favourite thing about them: I am unashamedly biased and view this boy through rose-tinted glasses.  I’m not actually sure what classifies here?  I have complaints I make at him, but they’re more fond “please look after yourself better” or “stop asking what Jeff would do and trust your own decision making” or “don’t jinx yourself you idiot” than things I actually dislike about him.  If he didn’t do those things I probably wouldn’t like him as much as I do?

I mean, he’d drive me bonkers if I actually had to interact with him for any length of time, but as a character I just find him enjoyable to watch (and play with in fics) and don’t find myself ranting at him/the writers.  Every time I think of something that might be negative I just end up going “but that’s what helps make Scott Scott”.

So I’m gonna be terrible and not give an answer.  Sorry.  (In my defence, I’d struggle to answer this for any Tracy boy, not just Scott, so I’m not just playing favourites!)

Favourite line: You want me to pick what now?  Uhh... *mind promptly goes blank* Oh come on, brain, I can recite most of the episodes word for word at this point, you don’t get to fail me now!

*comes back after answering the rest of the questions* okay so I have figured out my issue is that with Scott I like entire exchanges because he’s most vibrant when he’s with a brother (or several) and picking just one random line from that feels... flat?  So have one of my favourite exchanges, from Heavy Metal:

A: Thunderbird One, accelerate to nine Gs S: In an incline dive?  Are you crazy? A: Trust me!  I’ve done this before.  Although that was in space and I wasn’t towing a jet plane- S: F.A.B... I guess

*flails* Scott trusting Alan, his youngest brother, with his life there always makes me so happy, and it’s one of the reasons it’s my favourite episode.

Oh!  I just remembered a line that does stand alone, sort of!

“John, secure us a hall pass from the principal’s office”

brOTP: Scott and Gordon.  Okay, yes, the obvious one is Scott and Virgil, but I just love the dynamic of the military bros okay.  There is a lack of this in fanfiction (not a void - I have found some very good ones!) and I swear at least half my wips feature it heavily.

Give me more Scott and Gordon they give me life.

OTP: I don’t actually ship Scott with anyone.  Except a good night’s sleep, maybe.  He’s too busy looking after his family and the world for that, and anyone who did end up in a relationship with him would have to accept that Scott’s brothers are always going to come first.  I haven’t found a single character in TAG that would be able to handle that.  He’s garnered definite interest from a few ladies, but imo they just think he’s hot (not that I’m one to disagree with that assessment) and don’t actually know enough about his personality - or would get on with him.

nOTP: Scayo.  Aside from my opinion that they both consider each other siblings (regardless of how official the adoption may or may not be, Kayo has referred to them all as her brothers on more than one occasion) and that makes that incest, they’re just the wrong sort of fiery to be compatible, imo - especially in episodes like Touch and Go, where Kayo is trying to turn IR into something it’s not and running Scott ragged.

Random headcanon: I have a habit (bad, good? you decide, I guess) of needlessly developing backstories for favourite characters, either by diving between the titbits we have, or making it up entirely.  Focusing on the tragic stuff is more my style, too, whoops, so for Scott we have the wonderful idea that when their mother died he was left alone to raise his brothers for a while before Grandma arrived to take the heat off.  I vary on whether Jeff’s around but emotionally distant, or actually off-planet and therefore can’t be there, but yeah.  Fourteen year old Scott raising four brothers between the ages of two and twelve single handedly for a while (and his schoolwork suffering as a consequence)!

Unpopular opinion: Okay, so I’ve been seeing this a lot recently, most likely due to TAG Rewatch and people going back to season 1, but it bothers me how much people are picking on him for his behaviour in Runaway.  While he’s not a flawless person by any means, I don’t find his treatment of Brains cruel or belittling.  It’s unfortunate that in the end, Brains’ presence wasn’t required, thanks to Alan and John, which makes it seem like it was tormenting Brains for the sake of tormenting Brains, but whenever I watch that episode (I have watched it a lot, and since this new thing has been circulating, watching it trying to see what other people are seeing), I just see Scott a) acknowledging he can’t do something, b) trying to encourage and reassure Brains all the way from take-off to successfully boarding the train, and c) sticking up for Brains when his capability is questioned by the train driver.

Is it right?  Maybe not, but at no point aside from that single moment with the button (which he may or may not have actually been about to press when Brains grabs him) does he ever show anything other than trust and belief in Brains.  Brains’ dismissive “oh no, you wouldn’t want to do that” without explaining why at the start, and then spouting of total jargon when Scott asks him for help before taking off actually bothers me more, tbh, and seems (imo) to be the whole reason Scott comes to the conclusion he can’t handle it himself or with Brains just via commlink, but then again I have issues with Brains’ hubris at a few times during the series.

Scott being actually dangerous, dismissive of other’s expertise and refusing to listen to anything or anyone is shown very well in Recharge, where it’s an entire plot point and key character moment, and that’s not the Scott we see in Runaway.

*gets off soapbox* okay I’m done

Song I associate with them: I tend to find songs I associate more by ‘what random song do I have on loop whilst writing fic’ than by any actual correlation, and I went through a Something’s Gotten Hold of My Heart (version by Marc Almond) kick while writing some of my earlier TAG fics.

There’s another song, but hell if I can remember it right now.  Tip of the tongue syndrome is mean.

Favourite picture of them:

All of them.  But especially when he’s content or thoughtful.

I could give you a whole montage, but (if it works, I have never tried to include a gif in a post before) have a cheeky salute from my favourite episode, Heavy Metal.  Always nice to see the boy smiling!

[vicky82gargoylesfan]

Episode Description For Chain Reaction

It’s from the Free view TV guide

If you can’t see it

A young GDF guard gets trapped inside a radioactive - and possibly haunted - nuclear facility. Scott goes in to assist with help from GDF Lieutenant Marion Van Arkle.

Looks like Scott is on a solo rescue and some continuity with Marion Van Arkle returning from season 1 episode Crosscut. 

[tsarinatorment]

“Secure us a hall pass from the principle’s office” ~ [to John] Chain of Command

“Worse... it’s a teenager” ~ [to John, about Brandon Berenger] High Strung

“Respectfully, sir, you may be a genius, but there’s nothing smarter than hard work” ~ [to Tycho Reeves] Hyperspeed

“Everyone is worth saving, Lieutenant” ~ [to Marion Van Arkle] Chain Reaction

(TAG) Scott Tracy once said…

[hebuiltfive]

I Know Places: Chapter One (Part One)

In honour of our dear Flyboy’s birthday (and because it completely slipped my mind and I have nothing else prepared) here’s the short and sweet first part of Chapter One of a piece I’ve been working on slowly. No angst (except at the start where he’s recounting the mission). Happy Birthday, Scotty. 💙

——————————————————————————

The deep baritone laugh of his brother reverberated through him and continued to echo even after Virgil had stopped chuckling. Scott cherished the sound, allowing himself a few moments to take in his brother’s laughter and appreciate it for all it was worth. He had been so close to losing that sound forever.

They were all accustomed to close calls. Their job demanded that they grow familiar with the Grim Reaper lurking on the sidelines of each and every rescue. They all had their ways of coping with that imagery and, for the most part, they all continued rather normally despite the constant threat. How they managed to do that was anyone’s guess, and they would all probably be incredibly fascinating to any therapist who wanted five boys with baggage, but they never dared to stop and question. All five of them had made peace with it, as had their close family and friends.

Normally, a close call wouldn’t have shaken Scott so much but today’s mission had been different. Today, they’d escaped by the skin of their teeth. Scott wouldn’t have even termed it a “close call” simply because it seemed too close for comfort. He nearly didn’t make it out, and there had been nothing Virgil could have done about it.

They — the people he’d been tasked with rescuing — nearly didn’t make it out, which somehow made things worse.

Scott could have made peace with his demise. He had often said silent prayers to his parents in the tighter spots he had found himself in, anyway. This would have been no different. Of course, he certainly never dreamed of or wished for such an occurrence, but if it meant getting those people to safety, he would always, always chose the lives of others over himself. To save them rather than to be saved. All of his brothers had that mentality and part of him hated that fact. If he had been the only one caught up in that place, if he’d been the only one to have never stepped foot into the turbulent world beyond those reinforced doors again, then maybe Scott wouldn’t have been so panicked.

As it was, he had never felt so scared. On the outside, he had managed to keep himself cool, calm and collected. On the inside, it had been an entirely separate case. With the exception of maybe only Virgil, no-one would have been able to notice the raging that had been silently brewing away deep inside as those seconds had ticked down.

His fists had pounded on that steel door until the vibrations rang through his bones. The rescue wasn’t over until there was no-one left to rescue. Over and over Scott had battled with the unfamiliar feeling of despair, reassuring himself that Virgil would somehow get through and that he just had to keep on breathing. The relief he had felt when that sealed door had finally slid open, revealing the tunnel beyond, was paramount to none.

In the end, it hadn’t mattered who had opened those doors. Scott had only been eternally grateful to the universe coming through for him.

For them.

For her.

Scott turned back to Marion. She was still smiling. He had no doubt in his mind that she was just as relieved as both he and Cameron were to be out of the plant. Of course, he had no way of knowing whether her calm demeanour in those last few minutes was also an act as his had been — shy of asking, and there was no chance he was about to do that so soon after the debacle — but Scott found himself oddly proud of her for not losing her head. In any rescue, one of his biggest worries was always having to work out a solution as well as deal with a panicking rescuee. He was grateful that he hadn’t needed to worry about that with Marion, or with Cameron for that matter. They had both shown that they were resilient and…

Since when did he offer such a detailed report of a rescuee’s behaviour when there was little to actually note? Especially when his designated rescuee wasn’t even the actual rescuee?

“Do I even want to ask?” Marion questioned with a quizzical look.

Scott’s brows furrowed in confusion before realising what she was referring to. He chuckled. “Oh, the popcorn? We were supposed to be having a movie night before we go the call. I’d made myself popcorn and left it on the side when I responded. Virgil stole it, thus he is a thief that owes me more.”

“If Scott’s got any say,” Virgil chimed in over Thunderbird Two’s loudspeakers, “then he’ll be making me fetch him popcorn for the next three movie nights as punishment.”

“Three?” Scott queried with a humorous tone. “I think you mean five.”

Again, Virgil’s laugh echoed, this time around the Shackleton complex. As it had done the first time, the blessed sound warmed Scott’s heart.

“Your cruelty knows no bounds, big brother.” Virgil replied before the click of the loudspeaker being switched off was heard and his laughter ceased.

The area seemed silent without Virgil’s deep tones bouncing off the buildings, and Scott suddenly felt rather awkward. He observed Marion who still stood only a couple of feet away from him. Her helmet was still tucked underneath one of her arms, her side plait slightly dishevelled from the ordeal they’d just escaped from. A couple of stray strands blew in the breeze and Scott told himself that his next words were solely down to them simply having narrowly escaped a horrific death together, not because of anything else.

“Speaking of popcorn and movie nights,—”

He gestured towards Thunderbird One. Her silver hull shone proudly in the dying light of the day, a day that had almost been their last. He had come so close to not seeing her again, not flying her again, but for once in his life that heartache wasn’t the strongest he currently felt. As he had come to terms with the forever unfavourable odds of his job, Scott had come to terms with what that would mean for his ship. The relief of seeing his ‘bird again after narrowly escaping a harrowing rescue was a familiar feeling to the pilot. This other feeling was less familiar.

Scott mentally threw away those thoughts and banished whatever he felt. He was just tired and in need of a long, long sleep. He attempted his best charming smile, no matter how weak it felt, as he continued, “we never did start the movie. How’d you like a ride over? If you’re not busy, of course.”

The last amendment was added on in haste. His avoidance of straight out asking Marion if she wished to travel back to their villa to watch a film with them — with him — was due solely to his attempt to sound casual. It hadn’t worked, and he knew it hadn’t. No matter how hard he had tried to seem indifferent, Scott couldn’t stop that innate feeling of sounding like a fool as the words left his mouth.

Internally, he cringed at himself. Scott was acutely aware of the subtle arch of Marion’s brow as he’d put forward his suggestion.

Her smile had remained, however, and her brown eyes averted away from him, over his shoulder and to Thunderbird One behind him. Marion’s gaze swept over his ship and, for a moment at least, Scott thought she might have agreed to his preposterous idea. There was a twinkle in those assessing eyes that he foolishly read as acceptance, a tiny step towards his ship, towards him that suggested the next words out of her mouth would be an agreement.

The GDF jet a few meters behind Marion roared, and whatever she’d been thinking, whatever she’d been about to say, was abruptly halted. She gently shook her head.

“I have to get back. Cameron and I will have reports to do.”

There was an unfamiliar sinking feeling that Scott felt but refused to acknowledge. He knew his idea was probably going to get shot down but he hadn’t expected to care that much, simply because he didn’t care. It was a nice, friendly gesture and Marion was busy.

Shamefully quickly, Scott nodded along and, in addition, blurted out, “So do we, actually.”

He heard a small snigger over his comms unit.

Virgil.

Though the loudspeakers had been shut off, his brother’s radio link was still very much active, meaning Virgil had just heard every single word of Scott’s embarrassing attempted proposition. Oh, he’d never hear the end of it now.

Scott sighed, eyes lowering to the ground double defeat.

Marion patted his arm. She hadn’t heard Virgil’s snort due to it only having been on their private line, which meant that she probably thought that his sigh was down to her decline and—

Before Scott could explain that he wasn’t as downhearted as she might have believed — a lie, but not a total one, so he could live with it — Marion’s hand lifted to brushed a stray strand of hair that had somehow fallen out of place despite all that extra-hold gel he’d swiped through it that afternoon.

“Ask me again another time when I’m a little less busy, and I might say yes.”

He barely had a beat to process that before Marion was walking away. Scott blinked at her back and continued to watch until she rounded the corner of one of Shackleton’s buildings, out of sight but not out of mind. The GDF jet roared once again a few minutes later as it rose into the night sky, setting off for whatever base Marion and Cameron were to be deposited at.

Only once the chilly night breeze snapped him out of his daydream did Scott return to Thunderbird One. Virgil, as he so often did, had waited for him and together they flew the leg back home to base.

[edutainer2022]

Inspired by conversations with @janetm74, here's a little thing based on the idea some time very early on in Jeff's fledgling business phase and before nuclear power got banned, and when the kids were small, the Tracies and the Van Arkles of the Uranium Empire might have been in each other's orbit through mutual acquaintances in high places. This was supposed to be nothing but laughs and wee shenanigans, but hey! Some angst and foreboding seeped in.

BEFORE THE DARK

The dinner ran it's course all the way to coffee and cigars at a drawing room overlooking the gardens of the Creighton-Ward manor. Just as the conversation shifted inevitably on to new bills regulating the nuclear energy production and radioactive ore mining, as well as the looming possibility of a big war. The men stayed standing in a close circle, voices hushed and tense.

Summer evening in the British countryside peeked in through the glass terrace doors with wiffs of the warm wind, infused with birds chirping and gleeful shrieks of children, playing outside, finally free of the formal confines of the dinner table. Jeff Tracy brought his little platoon of sons over to visit Lord Hugh. The Van Arkles too had their young son and daughter in tow. The elder boys, by the sound of it, were now wreaking havoc on the immaculately manicured lawn. The Tidy Twosome, at least - three year old John and Penny - were quiet and primly engrossed in a mutually fulfilling task of navigating a picture book.

The sudden patter of little feet on the terrace tiles and a painful yelp interrupted the cadence of the talk, as a five year old Scott ran inside - all wild blue eyes and windswept curls - made a beeline for his Dad and hid behind Jeff, hugging his knees for extra protection. Jeff barely had a chance to glance down at his (usually) fierce and fearless eldest, as the latter was closely followed by a tiny running girl, brown hair in two matching pigtails, now askew, brandishing a pool noodle about twice her size. The girl was eliciting something closely resembling a war cry. Jeff could feel Scotty squeeze himself into the adult's leg tighter. Jeff reached down and hoisted the boy up into his arms. He saw Willem Van Arkle do the same with the girl, who was yet to relinquish her weapon and waved it dangerously close to Scott's head. Lord Hugh was exercising all of his aristocratic poise not to laugh out loud. Jeff tightened the hold on his son.

"What's going on, Bluejay? Didn't I tell you to look after Virgie and Johnny after dinner?"

Brilliant blue eyes grew even wider, if it were at all possible. Scotty squirmed in Dad's arms to point outside, then at the militant girl.

"I WAS, Daddy! SHE wanted to hit Virgie, but Mommy says I should never EVER hit a girl so I created a dive... diva... diverzhon and she HIT ME!"

Lord Hugh gave up and was laughing by that point, trying not to spill vintage cognac on an antique rug. Jeff tried, unsuccessfully, to school his face out of an amused smile.

"SHE is Marion, right Scotty?"

"Yes, sir."

Van Arkle Sr. was frowning worried at the girl in his arms.

"What did we talk about, missy? We're guests here. We don't go hitting people."

Little Marion appeared less amenable to the idea and directed a glare at Scott, more befitting a mortal enemy than a preschooler. Both fathers put the kids down at that, but Jeff made sure to requisition the pool noodle from a grumpy Marion.

"You two go outside now and play nice. Bluejay, you make sure Virgie doesn't wander off and get lost in the park, okay?"

Scotty sketched an eager salute and beamed up at Jeff.

"K', Daddy!"

Ever the southern gentleman, he even offered a hand to the young lady. Marion contemplated his open palm, a little sticky with freshly mowed grass, slapped it forcefully and took off running outside with a yell:

"Tag! You're IT!"

Never the one to turn down a race challenge, little Scotty was sprinting off in a second, hot in pursuit. There soon was a sound of kerfuffle in the garden maze. Apparently Marion's brother and Virgil had joined the fray.

Van Arkle and Lord Hugh collapsed into the leather chairs, both sniggering. Jeff spared another moment scanning the far perimeter of the spacious grounds, making sure he didn't need to intervene.

"Told you, Tracy, the kids would take it on like a house on fire."

"That's one way of looking at it."

Jeff turned back to face the two men, steel eyes going a shade darker. Lord Hugh's face hardened as well.

"Now, gentlemen, what do we know about Bereznik repurposing those old nuclear warheads?"

Children's laughter drifted back inside through the open doors, but the air got chilly before impending dark.

[edutainer2022]

Same rule of thumb applies: how are these people and their personalities relevant to the story overall (plot, vaster conflicts) or to the characters of the protagonists (our Tracy boys, or the one Tracy who's doing the rescue). Is the recuee a secondary character, active in the plot furthermore, or a tertiary. How are they a foil or a mirror to what the story needs to explore about the Tracies (think that Brandon the Adrenaline Teen)? If it's the world building, what's the vaster conflict there - are they a social activist, who thinks the rich Tracies have a superiority savior complex and an expensive hobby? Are they the collateral of the Brave new utopian world Jeff Tracy championed (think Marion Van Arkle)? These sort of things.

A question to the Thunderfam, as I think I needed some clearing up for my crossover fic (that I really want to go back writing to).

Do you have to write the rescuee sections most of the time? Especially in a multi-chapter fic? Originally I wanted to write them for world building, but now I don't know if they are necessary.

[eos-in-orbit]

*Cameron, Scott, Marion all squished into the back seat of the mole.*

Please draw it

[yllamse]

Quick doodle for the evening. Shout out to Marion Van Arkle for not causing any more troubles for our heroes.

Let’s hope it stays that way.

[hebuiltfive]

Hi! Character ask game for TAG Scott! Any combo, or all - I'd really love to read your takes!🤗💙

My first impression of them

My least favorite ship of them

A weird headcanon

Future headcanon

When do you think they were being "themselves" the most?

So excited to answer this one! Putting it under a cut because it gets long!

First impression: Wow this guy is crazy, (from hanging off TB1)? Also remember distinctly thinking that, as the obvious head of the family, that this guys really knows what he's doing. I was proved wrong in subsequent episodes. Sorry Scoot! But I really liked Scott from the off!

Least Favourite Ship: I don't really have one that I hate but if I had to pick one I dislike... I'd probably say Scott x Kayo only because I see Kayo as their sister in TAG so it feels a little weird to me to ship her with any of the boys. But that's just my personal opinion on it. There are some amazing Scayo fics out there!

Weird headcanon: I don't know whether this meant a weird headcanon in terms of weird for the character or whether it meant weird for me to have the headcanon, so I'm just going to give a headcanon that might be common but might just be me instead, if that's okay (and if that made any sense?

Okay. To me, I see Scott as actually very musical. Obviously he's nowhere near as proficient as Virgil who is the musician of the family, but Scott can hold a decent tune. In addition to singing, he can also play a variety of instruments including the piano, the guitar, the harmonica, the French horn, the drums.

I think this one is a little influenced by the TOS universe — in one of the Theydon books, Scott plays the piano and there's a bit of background to that — so I kind of just expanded it for TAG Scott (and may be putting it into one of my WIPs... 👀).

But yeah. Hope that answers that one!

Future Headcanon: This is a much easier headcanon question, and it also happens to be one I'm currently writing into a WIP!

Once Jeff is home and everything is more stable, Scott settles down with Marion Van Arkle. She joins iR and they have three children together (who will follow in their footsteps when they're old enough) and Scott lives happily ever after. He deserves the happily ever after! (Although there are, of course, hiccups in the WIP, but that's unimportant here.) Happily ever after Scott! That's important!

Most themselves: Ooh. That's tough. I can think of a few.

Recharge, where he goes off in the Pod despite Virgil warning him against it and, oh look! Virgil was right all along? That sums Scott up I think.

Chain of Command, for most of the episode. Getting angry of not being able to help the people in need; going in for that second rescue regardless of the permission; and then, of course, questioning Janus's authority.

Chain Reaction, for when he saves Fuse even though Marion points out he's a criminal. Scott's line of "everyone is worth saving" is such a Tracy line, but I think it also sums Scott up. Likewise, in Brain v Brawn where he saves the Hood. Dude has a bigger heart than I would have in that situation.

I could go on, but this answer is already an essay in itself!

Thank you for this! It was fun to think about, and I hope I answered okay! 💙

[eos-in-orbit]

Enjoy a couple more ballet au sketches. Scott and Marion rehearsing something classical and Virgil rehearsing Romeo and Juliet.