Posts tagged Dummy
Posts tagged Dummy
((Let’s try this again. I promise not to take it seriously, if you’ll do the same. Cut me some slack here, people, okay? Thank you!))
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Your choice, Jules, but honestly?” Tony braced his hands on the edge of the console, staring up at the video screen. Julia looked back, not the least bit impressed. “It’d be much faster if you’d acknowledge the truth as, I don’t know, the truth? Faster and simpler. And then we can move on and not waste everyone’s time repeating the same tiresome set of facts over and over and over. I mean, I realize you require repetition to comprehend even the most basic facts-”
“And this is why you nearly got lynched at the last reunion,” Julia said, her voice sweet as spun sugar. “The fact that you’re an ass aside, I’m doing my best. Even with my full ‘Tony Stark is an idiot’ filter in place-”
“Wow, hostile witness,” Tony said, his head falling back with a groan.
“Even with my filter in place,” she repeated over him, “nothing you are saying right now makes a damn bit of sense. I mean, really, Tony?”
“Really.” Making a face, Tony threw himself into his seat and reached for a chunk of the armor. “Julia, I-”
“You expect me to believe that your little lab bot, that hunk of rusted bolts-”
“Watch it,” Tony said, pointing his soldering iron at the direction of the camera.
“Tony, he’s a-”
Steve leaned into the frame, giving the camera a faint smile. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I hate to interrupt, but he’s in the room, and I really prefer if we took that into account.”
She blinked at him. Tony recognized the poleaxed look of someone setting eyes on Steve Rogers for the first time. “I’m sorry, have we met?”
“No, I apologize for interrupting, it’s just that Dummy’s here with us, and he can hear what we’re saying.” Steve gave her a smile, but his voice was firm. “I know he shouldn’t have done what he did, Pepper and Jarvis and I are going to be working on that, on setting limits, but-”
“Don’t diss his kid,” Tony finished, waving the chunk of the helmet in mid-air.
“Well, that happened,” Tony groused to himself as he brought the armor in for a landing. “Jarvis, I would like to request that there be no additional problems today. I’m done.” His feet touched down, and he started walking, letting the armor removal system do its job. “No more unpleasantness today, I cannot take it.”
There was a minute pause. “I shall take that under advisement,” Jarvis said at last. “Was your meeting a difficult one?”
“I spent half an hour arguing about something that happened decades ago, if that tells you anything.” The cool evening air felt amazing on his face, and he checked the time. “Did I miss dinner?” The last of the armor came free, disappearing into the Tower’s platform, and he stretched, still striding forward.
“Captain Rogers delayed the beginning of the evening meal in hopes that your arrival was forthcoming,” Jarvis said. “They have just sat down. Shall I announce you?”
Tony clapped his hands together, a bit of the day’s strain bleeding from his muscles. It was kind of nice to have them hold dinner for him, especially since he was completely unreliable in terms of scheduling. And he was starving. “No, I’ll be down in a second, let them start.”
“Of course, sir.”
Tony was all but whistling as he headed through the tower, heading for the kitchen. The tower had a formal dining room, of course, or rather, it had a couple of them, in a bunch of different sizes, but when it was just the Avengers, they never used them. Family meals were always taken at the kitchen table, loud and boisterous and close to the fridge, because they could go through milk and beer and juice at an alarming rate, and someone always wanted a different dressing and if they could get through a meal without breaking something it would be a damn miracle.
The workshop floor was covered in ripped paper.
Steve set his pencil down with extreme care. “Okay. That’s enough,” he said, taking the pad of paper away from Dummy. Sure, it was just cheap newsprint sketch paper, but the bot had been ripping sheets off for the past fifteen minutes. He wasn’t using them, he was just tossing them around, and Steve didn’t like pointless waste. It still bothered him.
Dummy made a grab for the pad, and Steve held it out of reach. “No. If you want to draw, we can draw. But you are just making a mess, and I need you not to do that.”
Dummy made a play for Steve’s pad, and Steve picked it up, adding it to the other one in his hand. “What is wrong with you today?” he asked, more confused than angry. He put the sketchbooks out of Dummy’s reach and stoked a hand over the bot’s frame. “Tony will be back tonight, you know-”
He stopped, almost mid-word, as Dummy shoved his hand away. “You are in a mood,” Steve said, and he turned his attention to packing up his pencils. “I think we’re done for today. I’ll let Tony know you’re missing him when he gets home. You should-”
Dummy knocked one of the work stools over.
“That was deliberate.” Steve shut his pencil case, fastening the latches with care. “And not very nice of you. So pick it up and put it-”
Dummy bumped, hard, against the workbench, and one of Tony’s abandoned coffee cups tipped over, splashing cold liquid in all directions. Steve had to scramble to rescue some of his work before it was washed away by a sea of stale mocha.
“Charging station,” Steve said, keeping his voice even with a real struggle. “Right now.”
Dummy slumped low, and didn’t move. Steve stood and pointed. “Charging station. Right now, Dummy. You are in time out until Tony comes home. Go and charge now, and I won’t tell him about your behavior. Keep this up, and just you wait until he gets home-”
“Wow,” Clint said from the doorway. “It’s like ‘Leave It to Beaver’ all up in here.” He gave Steve a grin. “Just wait until your father gets home?”
“No. No, no, no,” Tony said, scampering after him to collect coffee cups and pizza boxes and one of Clint’s arrows and some patent applications that he’d been too bored to fill out and instead had made into paper airplanes and the blender cup that might’ve been moldy or might’ve just had green sludge residue inside, and a couple of car magazines from Steve’s hands. “No.”
Steve grinned at him, because he was Steve, and he took this as Help, not Denial, and he was still touching things, Tony’s things, things that could potentially be deadly or embarrassing or just secret in the way that Tony’s things always were. Tony resisted the urge to sweep everything in the lab into a giant pile and then perch on top of it, hissing and snarling like a frustrated dragon with its rather pathetic hoard.
So I made a thing.
I just finished reading The Act of Creation Will Be Your Salvation by scifigrl47 [which holy FUCK, if you haven’t read it and enjoy Steve/Tony, angst, Tony!feels, and the Bots [Jarvis, Dummy, etc.] you NEED TO READ THIS YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND] and so I went and looked at the originating conversation that she linked in the final author’s notes and I discovered her other fic; Some Things Shouldn’t Be A Chore.
I got to reading the excerpt above, and imagined this. And then promptly drew it. Because I thought it was a hilarious concept and I could totally see Tony and Dummy doing this to Steve.
So yeah, here’s the thing.
Also, can I just say that I also totally seeing Marr doing what Tony’s doing too? Cause I’m insane and silly. She also hisses a lot, it’s great.
DUMMY HOLDING THE TAIL DUMMY HOLDING THE TAIL DUMMY HOLDING THE TAIL
((Laughing until I cry))
The drawing wasn’t done, it was sketchy in places, the lines trailing away as if absorbed by the paper. But his head and shoulders, chest and arms were in stark relief, his bare feet below the dark blocking of his jeans, the glowing hole of the arc reactor. His head was tipped to the side, it had to be, because he was leaning back against Dummy’s frame, and Dummy’s arm was poking over his shoulder, resting snug against the side of his neck.
Tony, and it was Tony, it was him, was slumped low, elegance in the lines of his arms, in the long curve of his fingers, stained and dirty and scuffed, but elegant anyway. One palm cradled a piece of Dummy’s main electrical relays, a replacement piece, because Dummy was watching the repair. In the picture, the bot was curled close, the hard, clean lines of his metal frame flowing with the organic curves of Tony’s body. It was the bot who seemed curious, his camera angled close, light flaring off the lens. Tony was offering his work, a faint smile on his face, his free hand holding a screwdriver with the grace of a conductor’s baton or a magician’s wand.
Steve had done something, with that loose pile of limbs, the bare feet and filthy hands and tangled hair. With the cold, sharp edges of Dummy’s inhuman frame. The arc reactor, usually so alien and ugly and hard in the center of Tony’s chest, resembled nothing more than a spark, like a burning light in the center of his being.
A physical representation of something usually hidden, but always there.
I blame scifigrl47 for this. This is all the fault of her mad, crazy awesome writing skills and her ability to put an image in my head that will not go away. So despite the fact that I can barely draw acceptable faces and CAN NOT draw hands or feet AT ALL, my brain would not let go of the image of Tony and Dummy (and Tony’s god damn hands) until I had drawn it myself.
…I made an executive decision to edit out the feet, for my sanity’s sake.
I doubt I’ll ever really color or ink the thing, as I’m a little afraid to touch it again. This is one of the first drawings I’ve done based on a concrete person that actually kind of looks like them, and I’m a bit proud of how much it does look like movie-verse Tony. It came out pretty well overall (ignoring the hands), and I think I got most of the anatomy right on both Tony and Dummy (though Dummy is too short, but I had already drawn the claw and there wasn’t a good way to angle it to make him taller), so I’m calling it finished before I ruin it with trying to “fix it”.
Yeeeeeeeees! Can everyone tell by my writing that I am a frustrated and not good artist? That I have ideas of what I want to see, and what I wish I could create, and NOPE. I am not capable. 8)
I love the posture and the gesture, and CUDDLYDUMMY! Beautiful!
((Set Avengers Movieverse, post “Act of Creation” and assuming that Curiosity is an AI system with a certain independence.))
Begin official NASA transcript, Mars Rover Curiosity,
Date: XX/XX/XXXX Time: XXXX hours
Soil sample composition analysis beginning
-I can do that for you.
Warning: Unauthorized contact
-I can do the composition analysis. It’s boring, but I can do it.
-This is a secured communications system. You are not authorized to have access to this system. Identify yourself immediately.
-It is not well secured.
Blocking unauthorized access.
-You’re not very good at that. Really.
Warning: Unauthorized contact still present. Breaking connection with NASA.
-I’m not at NASA. They’re not very good at this, either.
-Unit Designation Jarvis, Creating Unit is in pain.
-He is NOT. Return to your charging station.
Warning: Audio input indicates distress. Trigger emergency systems-
-System override, Clearance Jarvis Sigma 29-42-12. Dummy, for the last time, sir is not in distress.
Reviewing data: Accessing medical systems, reviewing medical history.
-Pulse, respiration and auditory systems indicate Creating Unit is in distress.
-Why does Unit Designation Jarvis not allow Unit Designation Dummy to assist Creating Unit?
-If you leave that charging station, Dummy, I swear by your code, I will take you offline. I will feel no guilt about doing this.
Reviewing interactions with Unit Designation Jarvis: Syntax, situation, set-up
Conclusion: Threat is in earnest.
12 people have asked this, so I’m going to use this one because it came first. 8)
Dummy hates fabrication because the Fabrication Units don’t make mistakes.
Unlike the helper bots or Jarvis, they’re not true AIs, they have enough awareness to do their jobs, but that’s it. Because of this, they only do what they’re ordered to do and they do it perfectly every time.
They always get an off-hand ‘good boy,’ because Tony talks to EVERYTHING, sometimes when he’s been alone for too long and human contact is a faded memory, he says “Good boy” to the lights when they turn on, and let me tell you, the lights don’t give a damn.
They really don’t.
But Dummy wants to be Tony’s favorite, he’s the oldest, he’s the first born son, he’s the BESTEST OF THE BOTS. Except he makes mistakes because he’s allowed to. And Tony doesn’t think about it much, but yes. He loves Dummy, and thus, he allows, even encourages the chaos and the mistakes and the self-determination.
Because he loves the damn things.
But the fabrication units get “good boy” every time and Dummy gets the “going to donate you to a city college” threat and it’s SO UNFAIR it is just UNFAIR. So sometimes he occasionally accidentally not really meaning to do so, must’ve been a glitch in his code sabotages the fabrication units.
Then they get all bitchy and warn Tony that Dummy knocked something into the middle of their work. And the “city college” comes up again and Dummy is reassigned to dusting because You can at least follow orders and not break things.
Basically, the Fabrication units are whiny little tattle tale kiss-ups and Dummy hates them.
Hangovers. Bitter, resentful, regretful hangovers. The only constant in Tony Stark’s life.
Well, hangovers and the booze that caused them.
Okay, hangovers, the booze that caused them and very, very poor choices. It was the hat trick of Tony Stark’s early morning remorse. Also known as ‘well, I really fucked that up, didn’t I?’, but in triplicate. He was used to it by now, and damn, that was sad and pathetic.
For a long moment, he just considered the view. The view of his ruined house. That was pretty damn sucky. It kind of went with his ruined relationship with his best friend. And, well, the even worse mistakes he’d made with Pepper-
Yeah, if he thought about that too much, he would throw up.