st_arkravinghazelnut | Dog Days 2: The Doggening

Thor glances at the heaping plate of meat and cheese with a dubious look, then goes back to scritching Tony behind the ears.

"Don't stray too far from the inn without someone with you," he says. "There are dangerous creatures there. Creatures far more dangerous for a person of your size."

“Have you seen me?” Iron Man wagged a sausage over Tony’s nose, making him whine petulantly. “I am clearly a luxury breed. Being hand-fed on the lap of royalty is what I was born for, not scavenging in the woods.”

Thor hums at that, then momentarily dislodges his hand from the dog's significantly fluff to gesture at the Iron Man suit.

"How are you able to speak through that thing, anyway?" It was Tony speaking, wasn't it?

“What thing?” Iron Man drew back and gestured at himself while Tony shook his head in an effort to break the skin of the sausage. “Me? I’ve always spoken for myself. You know that.”

"Doesn't explain how it can translate from dog to English." Thor plucks a piece of cheesy bacon from the plate and begins chewing away on it. No way that Tony will be able to finish this all himself.

"Simply put? I can't." Iron Man gestured at the dog still possessed with the sausage. "This is all me. Tony Stark. ...Well. His essence. In essence."

Thor is perplexed.

"I don't understand."

"He's the original hard drive." Iron Man gestured once again at the Pomeranian patiently. "I'm the back-up. The carbon copy--Wait, did you ever learn your way around e-mails? Alright, scratch that. Direct is best. I'm an A.I. constructed from Tony Stark's consciousness."

Thor turns to look at the Iron Man suit. "So you just -- you know what he's thinking?" So this wasn't a translation like Thor expected it to be -- it was one Tony speaking for another.

"Considering I'm the summation of every single piece of knowledge, life experience, belief, and miscellaneous thought Tony Stark's ever had? I can make a good faith guess."

His faceplate was directed in Tony's direction, and his shoulders fell in a soundless sigh as he reached for the still-uneaten sausage the dog was now wildly bouncing his head to adjust and tugged it out of his teeth. "Alright, you're killing me here, Me." Iron Man's finger formed a little automated saw, and he sliced off a piece for Tony to more easily chew.

"But only up to a certain point," Thor says. It's not a question. "Unless you're getting updates from his head right now."

Thor spins a little finger in the dog's direction as Tonypup begins to scarf down the newly-cut sausage.

“Right.” Iron Man put the sausage back on the plate before Tony could demand more, his jaws working to chew what he already had. “Is this weird? I could, you know—assume a more comfortable shape.”

"What's weird is thinking that there's two almost-identical Tony Starks out here." Thor glances down at the dog. "Physical differences aside."

Thor runs his hands idly over the Tony pup's fur. "What other shapes do you have?"

Iron Man unceremoniously popped his helmet off, walking a few steps as a headless body to set it down on the table beneath a vanity. The dark eyes flickered to life—projecting a holographic image of Tony Stark himself, dressed plainly in his Black Sabbath t-shirt ensemble. The display made Tony’s furry ears prick up.

“There we are.” The image of Tony dusted himself off and pulled the wrinkles out of his shirt, as if he’d just changed clothes.

"I still prefer the original," he says, though the hologram is certainly easier on the eyes than than the Iron Man suit is. "How long has Tony had you around?"

“You know, I see where you’re coming from, but that smarts coming from the man I love.” The AI half-joked, folding his arms. “Few weeks.”

"Just a little side project?" Thor asks, studying the hologram. He can't help but wonder what inspired this particular course of action.

Tony wriggled off Thor’s lap, hopping down and shaking out his body. He made circles around the hologram, passing through the blue light, holding his head high in keen observation of it.

“Backing up data is the best contingency I got for now, besides being a wise decision in general.” The AI’s eyes followed his dog half. “If something untimely occurs, Tony Stark can be more than just a failed memory.”

Thor decides that the hologram is a remarkable facsimile. Still not physical, though.

"Does he believe he's going to die?" he asks, not sure if he should use he or you here.

Both Tony's paused in their nonverbal communication to regard Thor a perplexed look. "...Yes?" The AI paused for the dog to make some sort of statement, though that was a silly thing to do. "Eventually."

Thor was thinking more immediately, but he's not going to push the not-quite Tony Stark for answers.

Even though he wants to.

"All creatures die," he says. "Even I will die someday, though I'm not sure when." Provided he found Thanos and survived that and survived using the stones. He knew now that there was still plenty to lose. He just wish he realized that before his last encounter with the Titan.

Maybe then things would have ended differently.

"I think it's something you need to accept." You in general, not the AI or the cute dog Tony, either.

The Tony Stark made of light and data cupped his chin thoughtfully while the Tony Stark of flesh and fur simply sat at its feet, gazing silently back at the god.

"I could play obtuse and ask, 'and what of it?' I'll acknowledge your point and respectfully add, 'not dying with unfinished business.' If I can help it. And I can. So I will."

Thor hums at that. For an Asgardian whose lifespan is thousands upon thousands of years old and whose longevity is further augmented by the powers he inherited from his father upon his death, he has spent a lot of time thinking of death. Perhaps it was because he'd been on the battlefield since he was fourteen years old; as hard as Asgardians were to perish, he had seen plenty of people die in the glory of battle before they were ready to. Sure, Valhalla itself promised a glorious afterlife, but what of the people you left behind, who may or may not join you at the great hall? What of the things you wanted to do or for those people? All that opportunity was gone; all you had was what you had done and nothing more.

But truthfully, Thor hadn't given death all that much thought until he showed up on Midgard a decade before. He had known before Coulson was stabbed by his brother how fragile and short-lived humans were in comparison to the Asgardians Thor had grown up with. But Coulson's death made the reality of it settle in:

These humans would die long before he did. Any human he made friends afterwards, too.

Coulson's death seemed to trigger a long series of deaths. Friends and family died one after another. Coulson, his mother, his brother (he thought), his father, the Warriors Three, much of Asgard, Heimdall, his brother (for real), the Guardians he had befriended in space, Vision and Wanda, half of what remained of Asgard, and half again of what remained of Asgard afterward.

Half the universe, all with unfinished business. All who had things they still wanted to do. Dead and gone with no way to finish them.

"Will you ever be finished? Will any of us?"

Thor leans forward and stretches out an arm to scratch the dog Tony on the head; his attention is there on the pup now as he speaks to the Tony AI. "If you live until you've done everything you want to do, you'll never stop living."

“Maybe not.” The hologram took a seat beside Thor, seeing no reason not to, spreading out his arms and legs to own his space be it physical or no. “We’ve all got our ways of chasing our legacy.”

Tony’s tail wagged sluggishly, but it did. He whined softly, approaching Thor to sit on his feet.

Thor reaches down to pick up the Tony dog and settle him down on his lap. He runs his hand across the length of the creature's back. He finds it relaxing. He can understand why so many people kept pets.

"And what is your legacy?"

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