“INCINERATE THE FEET OF ALL WHO DARE CUT DEATHRIPPER OFF,” Thori growled. One passerby turned to look, seeing only a young man in his early twenties and a scruffy dog, and then -- as many do -- looked away. Because regardless of the era, New York City was New York City. If someone’s affliction wasn’t using, then there was another likely explanation: an actor. All crackpots. All of them. Especially the ones wearing long green coats with shiny gold buckles.
“Hush, Thori,” Ikol told the Hel-hound. He hadn’t made Thori submit to a leash, but that was because Ikol knew the limits of the canine’s patience. A collar was permitted. A leash? No, but the agreement was that Thori was to not singe any ankles or bite any hands. So far, he was doing well. The idle threats were given, but to ask Thori to stopper his need to make his displeasure known was to ask him to stop being Thori.
“We’re nearly there. If you must air your grievances, I need you to do it with a quieter voice.” He looked down to Thori, who narrowed his infernal eyes and snuffed in reply, but didn’t look up. Thori Deathripper hated to be reminded of his stature, which was still somewhere between puppy and fully-grown. “I’ll let you pick whatever you want for dinner. See? Not a bad deal. All the General Tso’s chicken you could want.”
“THORI WILL REND GENERAL TSO’S CHICKEN, BONES AND ALL.” Thori replied, albeit in a marginally less loud voice.
“Yes, well, it’s already off the bone, but yes.”
There was one inescapable truth about New York City. No matter how bad it smelled, it could always, always be worse. Kate Bishop frequently found that out the hard way by hanging out with Clint Barton. This time, however, it was because she happened to walk past an alleyway with the dumpster overflowing and too close to the sidewalk. Her lip and nose curled up at the smell, but it was a tan blur out of the corner of her eye that caught her attention.
The dog bore a striking resemblance to the one she called hers back home: Lucky. The golden retriever was even missing the same eye, and his tongue flopped out of the same side of his mouth. The bark was right on too. Her gaze dropped to his collar where she could see a distinct purple and white logo attached to the purple collar.
"Lucky?"
Though he was still sitting, his butt started to waggle. He panted a little more excitedly. He looked like he was on the verge of losing it any moment.
"Oh my god, Lucky, how the futz did you get here?"
She bolted forward toward him. He must have thought they were playing chase, because that's exactly what he did: he gave chase. Kate was lucky she was athletic because chasing a golden retriever through back allies of Manhattan had not been on her agenda today. As soon as she thought she'd caught up to him, he darted down another alley until finally —
"Oh! Sorry" came the instant reply as she slammed into someone.
It was Kate’s misfortune more than anything. To slam into a Frost Giant, even one occupying more humanoid proportions, was about on par with slamming into a brick wall. Ikol staggered minimally, but it was more out of surprise than the brunt of impact. Surprise because a golden retriever had blasted past, garnering his attention, and then… less ideally, Thori’s attention.
And off the hel-hound went. The shape of ‘friend’ had been identified, and he was bored with behaving himself. A lick of flames erupted from his mouth, unsettling a couple that had been walking arm-in-arm the other direction.
“Thori!” Calling after the canine didn’t do a thing. Thori had only stopped at the end of the block because the large dog had, as well, likely trying to make sense of the smaller, more smoky creature sniffing at him.
“Can’t you-- ” Ikol started, jaw already clenched as he turned to the person that had slammed into him. Then, he stopped. “No, you can’t. Never mind. Kate, fancy meeting you here.”
She managed to catch herself before she fell, but only because she'd latched onto the arm of the person she'd run into. The smell of hel-fire gave her a hint of where she might be (Hell's Kitchen? Nah, too obvious), but once the voice was heard, she knew. This may as well have been a futzing movie.
Especially now that she was looking at Lucky with Thori. They were circling one another, sniffing the other's butt. Lucky wasn't sure about the embers from the other dog's nose, but he seemed to be okay with whatever he was smelling back there. There wasn't any growling or uncertainty in Lucky's movements, and that dog was a great judge of character.
So what was the deal?
Confused, she righted herself and jerked her hands away from Loki's arm and folded them across her chest. Her expression jerked away too, horrified realization taking over. "Don't talk to me like — He just showed up! I don't know where he came from!"
A smarter choice would have been to greet her in the same way that he greeted most, but something about Kate always made him prickly. Her grasping his arm and then wrenching her hands back as if he was contagion didn’t exactly help. If they could just rewind things and take it from the top…
But that wasn’t the nature of their interactions. And that was his fault, wasn’t it? His clenched jaw began to strain less over Kate herself and more over his own cyclical bad habits.
“He? Who? The dog…?” It was an obvious question, but he hadn’t ever met any dog associated with Kate. “Thori, do not cross that street!” At that final shout, Ikol broke into a jog to close the distance between them and the pair of canines.
"Lucky! My dog!"
And then like she'd said the magic words, Lucky looked up from his doggy hellos to wag his tail when he locked eyes with Kate. He made a few movements like he was going to bound toward her, likely completed with a pounce that would knock her over, but it stalled. He clearly wanted her to come say hello to his new friend.
Kate followed, though she didn't jog. It was more of a brisk walk, because that's what New Yorkers did, which meant she lagged behind a little. That gave her a few seconds more to growl to herself about this meeting. She hadn't been expecting to find Lucky out here, so a leash was not on her. She was going to have to stop somewhere and find dog food — and maybe a slice of pizza for him — and her whole day was completely different now.
Well, she was still going to get her Chinese food. The place she loved was around back in this time period, and she'd found them in a phone book. A phone book! She'd grab Lucky a slice at some point.
When she arrived, she crouched in front of the dog. He gave her a big ole slobbering kiss on the side of her face. "How in the world did you get here?"
As Kate was greeted by Lucky, Ikol stooped to a less thrilled Thori.
“UNHAND THE DEATHRIPPER.”
“Volume. Turn it down,” Ikol warned, but he couldn’t help sneaking a side glance to the reunited pair. It was universal knowledge that anyone who was loved by and loved a dog couldn’t be a bad person. And, it wasn’t that he fashioned Kate to have been one, but a chip he carried on his shoulder often made him try to justify their bickering.
Thori, for all his pent-up agitation, was wriggling his more stumpy tail as he leaned towards Lucky. Ikol let him wander over again, feeling distinctly betrayed even though he knew that wasn’t the real situation.
“He probably appeared somewhere on campus and let the scents of the city carry him away. Thori arrived at random one day and made me chase him half across it.” Ikol’s tone was resigned, but it would make him look worse to give someone grief over a dog. A cute dog. A cute and friendly dog.
"Animals just turn up out of nowhere? Like we did?"
It shouldn't have surprised her. Loki had Thori, and she'd heard of other people with animals. She'd just assumed they had shown up when their people were deposited in Derleth. Had anyone's pet arrived and then no one found them? That potential was messed up on a whole other level that Kate was not prepared to deal with. She'd always had a massive soft spot for animals, and had once cried over someone else's hamster who had died two years previous. Admittedly, she was eleven at the time.
Lucky's excitement distracted her from those thoughts. He snuffled and turned toward the new person and buried his nose in Loki's hand. Clearly he wanted to be petted by the newcomer. He gave several hard sniffs, as if trying to sear the memory of this person into his dog mind. There were a few distracted, but happy looks toward Thori, while he waited for his due.
"He was by a really nasty dumpster. Was there some kind of garbage truck strike in the 80s or something? Because it really reeks in this time period."
“By Thori’s account, they do,” Ikol answered, although his focus was pulled from niceties with Kate to the golden retriever who was nudging his snout into the empty hand. Instinct took over -- and because he wasn’t possessed of a frozen heart despite his physiology, the hand flipped over and smoothed down the fur atop Lucky’s head. The collar caught his attention next, and the purple was noted with a minimal raise of one brow.
Thori, on the other hand, was racing small loops around them all, fire licks crackling in the air. If people were perturbed by the sight, they were definitely not stopping to find out what was going on.
“Maybe it’s a lack of street sweeps. If anyone ever wondered what they did, perhaps it was odor control,” Ikol mused, as he ruffled some of Lucky’s golden mane and couldn’t help a grin in a lapse of self control. “Alternatively, I’ve seen plenty of street corners be used as makeshift toilets. Gross. Watch where Lucky sniffs, aye? A nose full of that would be more punishment than not for both of you.”
"Chim chim cher-ee! A sweep is as lucky as lucky can be."
Lucky heard his name sung from Kate's lips, complete with that terrible accent, and gave a woof! but otherwise didn't move. A dog who loved people loved all people, especially the ones who gave you pets. Kate chuckled under her breath.
"As long as there's no tracksuit bros around, I think I can stand the smell of dumpster," she replied ominously. She doubted the same track suits were around, but the city was the land of mobsters for good reason. It was a hub of activity and for people minding their own business — perfect for mobsters wanting to get this done with minimal fuss. At the mention of tracksuits, the side of Lucky's mouth curled up and a very small grr could be heard under his breath. He didn't even need to talk to understand him. "I know, don't worry about them. I'll put arrows in their eyes if anyone even tries it, boy."
There was clearly a story behind it, but since Kate didn't consider Loki a friend, she didn't consider filling him in. If he wanted to ask, he could. She turned on her heel to pay attention to Thori now. After all, all dogs deserved pets. She reached out to let him smell her first, as a good potential petter would do. "You should have called him Deathripper. He seems to like that name."
Kate’s singing drew a bemused glance from Ikol, who had assumed her voice was more a voice for scolding and sarcasm than anything melodious. And then he continued his skeptical look as she drew attention to whatever a tracksuit bro was. It was another hint that time had passed for Kate, but he’d been operating on earlier recollections. It was another hint that the Young Avengers had adventures without him. Which, of course they did. He had been the one to ultimately walk away from the team, but emotions were fickle things. And Lokis were often even more fickle creatures.
“I assume there’s a good story -- or bad, perspective depending -- about tracksuit bros.” Lucky growled again, and Ikol felt moved to withdraw his hand to make sure it wasn’t owed to his pets. As the dog shoved his head back into Ikol’s hand, he resigned to continuing the stroking motion.
“Also --”
“DEATHRIPPER IS THORI. THORI IS DEATHRIPPER.” Thori huffed a smattering of soot and smoke on Kate’s hand, but then allowed her to reach out without further incident.
“I couldn’t have said it better.”
“TREAT?”
“Not yet, later.”
“TREAT.”
“Later.”
Thori huffed again.
She gave Thori some particularly fond behind-the-ear scritches. Most dogs seemed to love those in a way she hadn't really loved anything in her entire life. Then again, dogs just seemed to love in a way that people couldn't. Or wouldn't. Or whatever philosophical stuff you wanted to say about it.
Kate wiped the soot off her hand onto her jeans as she stood up. Enough rubbing and you couldn't even see it. She hoped.
"Lucky used to — I guess — belong to some — " she whispered this word: "tracksuit" — then went back to her normal tone. " — mafia types. Clint had a run-in with them. They tried to attack him, Lucky got in the way. They threw him in the street. He got hit by a car. Clint took him to the vet and the vet saved him."
That extensive surgery was why the golden retriever had a perpetual wink, but it did not explain his cleverness, optimistic outlook, or his bravery. He was just an honorary Hawkeye all around. Sometimes just as stupid.
Like now when he was wagging his tail at the Deathripper and smacking his paw as if he was trying to pet Thori on the shoulder.
"No, Lucky, that's going to end really badly."
“Ah,” Ikol replied, his gaze lingering on the canine’s face noting Lucky’s one-eye. That put perspective on everything. “A rescue, then. As is Thori, in a way.”
Thori had growled at the playful attempt on Lucky’s part, but he also growled at anything with a pulse, so it wasn’t much of a statement. The smaller soot gray hel-hound bolted back and squared up before sneezing a jet of orange flame across the entire sidewalk. The blast missed everyone in the vicinity, but scorched a bit of concrete foundation of the building beside them.
“There was little faith in his ability to be a good dog. It wouldn’t be the only thing my mother and I disagreed on. He is a good dog.” It was insistence that carried a particular defensiveness, not that Kate even dared to say Thori wasn’t. “And Asgard doesn’t have shelters to speak of.” The implication was grim. Ikol crossed his arms and sighed.
“Anyway, not to ruin a playdate for them, but I am sure you were on your way…”
"All dogs are good dogs," was all Kate answered with. If a dog was troublesome, there was a person who had turned it that way. As far as she was concerned, people caused more problems than any dog did.
But she got his point, and she wasn't exactly eager to spend anymore time around him. Even if she found Thori charming in the same way she thought Jeff the Land Shark was. Adorable until he hurt someone, and Kate would make the occasional joke about the potential. Still, even Jeff's appetites weren't because he was evil. He was a shark; they ate animals.
She drew in a breath and patted her leg. "Come on, Lucky. Let's head out. We'll get you some food first, then head to a store to find some things you'll need." Lucky pulled up beside her, though he was eyeing Thori. "Like a leash."
"Later, Loki." Then she turned in the direction of the Chinese food place she'd intended to go.
Ikol gave Kate’s assessment of dogs a fair consideration, and given that he saw no flaw in the logic, he gave a shrug coupled with a nod. In another life, he might not have been as fond of them, but that went for most creatures with a pulse. Being an unhinged villain with designs on domination and revenge often didn’t coalesce with one’s heart melting over a puppy.
But Kate was walking away, and as noted her direction he clicked his tongue. “Right, except that’s the direction I was going.” It wasn’t even a matter of peeling off and circling the block. The Chinese food restaurant was one street crossing away.
He stepped in pace with her; Thori realized that keeping up with the group was his ticket to dinner and walking alongside his master. “I’m not trying to make a problem, merely trying to reach a destination,” he continued before veering towards the door to the restaurant. “Thori, come on.”
Kate frowned. Why was it always so awkward when you'd bid someone adieu only for them to walk in the same direction? Even worse that it appeared they were both going to the same Chinese food place. So awkward. So, so awkward.
"You're going here. To this place?" she asked as she reached her hand out for the door, but didn't quite open it yet. Lucky looked up as if confused. "The same one I'm going to?"
Because of course he was. That was how these things worked, didn't it? Kate looked down at Lucky, squinting her eyes at him as if this was somehow all his doing. If she hadn't had to chase him around for several blocks, she would have missed Loki at the place. Assuming he was getting take-out. She wasn't. She was tired of being on the Derleth campus, and frankly, she wanted her food still hot when it showed up. Dragging it back to campus meant those precious moments of warmth were wasted.
“I am…” Ikol gestured at his hand holding the door. “Opening the door. To this place. If you were going here, you probably decided on it after me.” The last part wasn’t necessary, but that was the nature of their back-and-forth.
Thori, at least, had moved inside and caught the attention of the presumable owner who was scowling to have a dog inside their establishment. The correction was immediate as a finger was pointed at the door and then at Thori who once again set sparks flying from the corners of his mouth. He knew when someone wasn’t a fan of him, and he wasn’t a fan in return.
“Ah, apologies,” Ikol muttered, leaning in to scoop the hel-hound up and giving Kate a mildly peevish look when they were both back just outside the door. Thori was set down and immediately let loose a string of obscenities per his brand.
“Plan B: Lucky and Thori can’t go in. If you’re getting food here, might as well have one of us go in and the other stays with the dogs. It’s the reasonable thing to do.”
"I didn't decide after you, I was on my way when I saw Lucky," Kate mumbled under her breath as he walked by her. She thought to poke him hard in the shoulder, and give him a what-for about it. She was the native New Yorker, and native New Yorkers all knew about this place. Their dumplings were chef's kiss, and don't even get her started on the fried rice. The egg bits were the best.
And in the 80s, there was probably plenty of MSG in it which meant it would be even tastier.
"Fine. I'll go in." There was that leaderly tone she often took during Young Avengers's missions. "Give me your order."
“My hero,” Ikol mused under his breath, but he pulled out a handful of cash -- era-appropriate cash at that, although the origins of it were left unexplained -- and extracted a twenty. It was handed over to Kate with little flourish as he gave her both his and Thori’s order.
He then set his gaze on Lucky, who seemed to be aloof towards the squabbling going on and the continued foul words that Thori was growling at people’s ankles as they walked past. It really was hard to dislike Lucky. That anyone had mistreated him seemed particularly cruel for such a cheerful creature.
“We’ll hold the fort down out here. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Lucky doesn’t overthrow any major powers while you’re in there. Only small, local governments. You can trust in us.”
Roughly ten feet away, Thori tried to sit on a pigeon. The bird lazily hopped to the side before it happened. Ikol merely gave the canine the sort of look that asked ‘what are you doing?’ Thori remained seated and yielded no further information. Lucky took a seat beside him. Good enough.
Fifteen minutes later, Kate returned with two large bags, because of course they were large. She handed Loki his, then returned his change because his order most certainly did not need more than twenty dollars. The eighties kind of rocked for price of living didn't it? Maybe she should look into a nice apartment, see if she could actually afford something.
Not that she'd be sticking around here. Part of her wanted to try and see if the campus would even let her. What happened if she just stayed away from Central Park — a place with some really bad memories for her, particularly when you considered the ruffians who lived there now — and just didn't return to the campus? Would she still get sucked back up with the rest of them?
"And now we can go our separate ways. After you." Instead of moving in a direction, she stood stock still waiting until he began to wander away. Then, no matter which way she was headed, she'd be going another way.
The fifteen minutes had been an exercise in keeping both dogs herded, but it ultimately meant Ikol had taken a seat (after checking to make sure no one had relieved themselves on the sidewalk) with both canines and placated each with a treat. It turned out that Lucky knew ‘sit’ and Kate would have to deal with her dog listening to her frenemy. There were worse things that could’ve happened.
He shoved himself up when she came back out, and brushed habitually at the backside of his coat. The bag was taken with a nod, as was the change that he dumped unceremoniously into a coat pocket.
“Right, after me. I’m going this way,” he told her. He pointed uptown, then gave her a small bow before pivoting to start off. Thori followed in two, surely guided by the scent of dinner. “I’ll see you next time misfortune befalls us both, aye?”