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[ The video begins with a dark-haired man centered in the middle of the frame. He’s got dark eyes, a precisely cut goatee, and hair that’s a little too styled to be naturally that neat. There isn’t a lot to see beyond his chin, he’s sitting too close to the camera, but what can be seen looks vaguely like a shirt of shiny red metal.

His brow knits almost immediately after the feed starts recording, his expression edging toward disbelief as his lips twist into a mild frown. ]

Look. I get it. In a time of crisis, rationing’s necessary to keep resources moving in the right direction. Perfectly understandable. You guys needed to save your turtle. What responsible citizen wouldn’t do their part for that noble cause?

[ There’s a slight hint f sarcasm creeping into his voice, as though he’s heard the whole turtle spiel already and not only hasn’t been impressed, but also doesn’t really buy it either. Not even after having spent half a day scouring the network for information about what’s really going on here before making this video. ]

But really? Twenty bucks?

[ The low, indistinct murmur of another voice can be heard, though what it’s saying and who it belongs to is anyone’s guess. Whatever it says, it’s enough to make the man roll his eyes. ]

Juulan. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. The point — [ Whether he’s talking to the camera or the unidentified voice is unclear. ] — is that it isn’t enough for a day, let alone the entire bogus adventure.

[ It isn’t so much the way he looks at the camera – his eyes have never left it – but the change of his tone, less querulous and more curious, that indicates that he’s talking to whoever’s on the other end of the console. ]

So really. Turtle propaganda aside. What’s a guy gotta do to get some decent money around here? Sell his organs? Hit the street corners? Scrub barnacles off the bottom of the turtle? What?

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An act performing the miracles of science. Although it could be magic. Technically, we haven't ruled that one out yet.

[He's not sure how they copy memories, but at the moment Tony's thoughts are running along similar lines. His choice of focus, however, is likely different. The mental image he has is an assembly line of heroes, all lined up by different models, waiting to be the next one sent out into the world.

So this is the other Tony. He looks right, so that's one question out of the way. The little differences aren't too important--he's not a kid or some unrecognizable version of himself--and that's most of what he wanted to confirm. He flashes his double a smile. There is a show of smug pride laced in the gesture too. This is Tony Stark he's dealing with.]

Too bad they've already seen this trick once. We'd have to come up with a better finish.

One world's science is another world's magic trick.

[ Which is what he learned most clearly from Thor's little family feud. Sure, there are other lessons there - about teamwork and family squabbles and choosing the appropriate moment - but really, it's the Asgardian technology that fascinates him. And is slowly turning into an unstated obsession. ]

As the smartest men in the world, something tells me coming up with a big finish isn't really going to be a problem for us.

[ He's the smartest man in his world, anyway. He just assumes his counterpart is too. ]

Right, except when it's magic. Then it's just magic.

[He's not promoting the idea, but he's had time to swallow the pill. It's uncomfortable and not remotely tasteful, but so is a lot that he ends up dealing with. At least he's helping this Tony be prepared for the magic that he's going to run into. Then again, sometimes magic is actually alien technology, so this Tony does have a point.]

You think you can come up with something that will impress the magicians in this place?

[It's kind of funny to hear himself talk about them in plural and their relative intelligence. They're definitely some of the smartest men in the world. And others, that's not really a question. But hearing his mirror image say that is not what he was expecting when he woke up that morning. It strangely reminds him of earlier days, even though the man is clearly older than him.]

Don't be too sure about that yet. They can surprise you.

Haven't run into actual magic yet. Just the Asgardian variety.

[ Maybe it's making too much of an assumption that this Tony knows about Asgard. He's younger. Maybe he hasn't run into Thor and his lunatic brother yet. Of course, there are obvious physical differences. Who's to say that there aren't other historical ones too? ]

But I can tell you this. That surprise? It goes both ways. And anyone who underestimates me usually ends up wishing they hadn't.

[ Is that a trait they both share? He hopes that it is. Otherwise he's going to be disappointed. ]

Well, you're in luck. You just won the magical lottery.

[He likes himself. That really shouldn't be strange, but considering everything, Tony is kind of surprised that he does. He smirks when the other Tony doesn't even bat an eye at the warning. He's good at improvising. It would have shocked him if this Tony wasn't, but it always pays to check before laying things out.]

I can't wait until they start pulling out the other surprises then. This isn't Asgardian technology. We'd be lucky if it were something familiar. No Thor either, although there are some Avengers around. Not all from the same place. Like you and me: similar but different.

By the way, be gentle. You were here before me.

[ He doesn't really feel like. If anything, he feels unlucky. Turtleworld is, he's beginning to think, not like the vacation brochure might suggestion. ]

I wasn't. Technically. I've never been here before, and trust me, I think I would remember a city on the back of a turtle.

[ Which brings him back to what his counterpart has just mentioned. A number of people who could be those he knows but for the worlds that separate them. ]

So these are all what? Other dimensions? The what might have beens if we made different choices in our lives?

[Right. No one would handle being told that they weren't really who they thought they were. Particularly not Tony. Luckily he'd been different enough that it never really mattered. He had never been the man they were looking for, which got him off the hook.

He pauses before answering so he can set up an encryption.]

Sort of. A lot of us are originally from other dimensions. There are some people I know here and we all seem to have memories that match up the way the should as far as I can tell. Different lives, but similar faces.

[Maybe he isn't the right man for this job. Well, too late.]

We're also clones. When I first got here, there was already someone named Tony Stark running a company with the same name as the one I used to head. But based off of a different model as far as I can tell. He never mentioned using liquidtech.

[ It’s on the tip of his tongue to mention that he’s run into a few of these people. Namely, Bruce and Pepper. They look like the people he knows. They sound like them. They talk like them. But it’s clear to him now that they’re not the people he knows. More to the point, according to Jack, he’s not the man they know.

But all of that falls to the wayside when his counterpart mentions clones. We’re also clones. Three words and Tony feels the bottom drop out of his stomach, feels the air leave his lungs like a fist to the gut. That can’t be real. They can’t be clones. That kind of technology, well, okay, he can admit that it might exist if he built it, but he’s not a clone. He’s got the arc reactor in his chest for fuck’s sake. Who would – who could - clone that? ]

Wait. Go back. What?

[ He wants to ask about the other Stark Industries. Wants to ask about the differences between those two Tony Starks. Between this one and himself. But all he keeps hearing is that they’re clones. ]

Clones? Are you sure?

[He's not looking at him anymore. He's not eager to get into this topic, because it burns his ego enough to know someone else managed to copy his work. And managed to copy him, which was what he wanted to prevent. But getting mad won't change anything, so he's grudgingly working with it.]

Yeah. Some magic trick, huh?

I haven't been able to figure it out. It shouldn't be possible. There are features that should make it impossible, actually, but we're still here. You can talk to the others about what they've found if you want to.

[Maybe he should have let Pepper or Bruce ease Tony into this. But once again he dove in and just let his gut reaction lead. He scratches the back of his head.]

You're me, so you already have your own way to check. Security features. Sequences that only you'd be able to reproduce. But if we were really the original versions then a giant turtle wouldn't be able to cut off my power supply. At least, I don't think it could.

[Magic always makes things more difficult to guarantee constants, but he hopes that he's biologically autonomous enough that he wouldn't rely on Asti normally.]

No, it shouldn’t be possible. There are—I can’t be cloned. I’m not completely…

[ The arc reactor’s still in his chest. He can feel it. And there are things that only he knows. Things he’s never told anyone. And he remembers them all. Every memory he wishes he could forget, every shameful disappointment, every traumatic experience. How could it be cloned?

It’s not possible. He’s him. He knows that he’s him. ]

There’s got to be some other explanation. You know it’s impossible too. So there’s proof that someone’s found? What if it’s fake? If the kedan or whoever have enough power to involve us in the first place, to reach into other dimensions, they’ve got to have enough power fuck with us and plant false evidence.

Being a clone doesn’t even make sense.

Trust me, I know. It shouldn't be possible.

[There are parts of them that no one should be able to copy. The wry expression that crosses Tony's face says that he's fully aware of how wrong the whole assertion is, but there isn't much he can do about it.]

But if you check back through the archives on these things, you'll find records of being here before. Or ask JARVIS. Apparently whatever happened to the last Tony Stark from your world didn't happen to his AI. And before you tell me it's a mistake, check it for yourself. You know your own work.

False memories might be possible, but they're not trying to convince us. If anything, it's supposed to be a secret.

[He didn't realize this Tony would have this kind of reaction to cloning. It's far more than pride or questionable technology for him. He can feel the resistance. That push of denial that he has toward anything concerning a higher power. He didn't expect to feel it here.]

A lot of this doesn't make sense. The turtle got sick and somehow that affected everyone's powers. That doesn't make sense either. But if we're being tricked, it's one hell of a trick.

I saw. The records. Some guy who looks like me. More than you do. It’s weird. But there are a lot of possibilities, right? Places we could’ve turned right instead of left. I guess it happens. But he’s not—I’m the Tony Stark from my world. JARVIS is here. He’s been here.

[ His navigator. His sometimes babysitter. His nag. His friend. His legacy. His security net since the whole Chitauri invasion, keeping him from being alone for too long with his thoughts. The idea that even JARVIS wouldn’t be reliable is deeply upsetting and therefore something he refuses to think about. ]

I know a guy. His name’s Fury. He plays a long, intricate game with everybody. What he tells us, what he doesn’t, what he does and doesn’t do, it’s all part of it. He can’t be the only person in the multiverse to manipulate people.

Maybe we’re clones. Maybe we’re not. Maybe they just want us to think we’ve discovered the big secret so we’re easier to control. If you’re not you, if nothing you remember having done ever really happened, what’s the point of being you? Take away the things that make us us, we’re a blank slate that’s easier to manipulate into whatever they want us to be.

[ It probably sounds paranoid. It is paranoid. But he doesn’t trust this place, and unless he’s given irrefutable evidence that he’s a clone, he’s not going to believe the propaganda. ]

[He's right. If they aren't who they think they are, then a lot of that essential meaning is lost. But memories only hold as much value as they are given. That much he believes.]

Maybe you're right. Maybe it's all just a big game someone's playing and we're just the pieces. Does it matter?

[A voice in the back of Tony's mind is telling him that this is his own stubborn form of denial manifesting in front of him. He's also probably just tired of having to catch up after everything that happened.]

You're Tony Stark. All right, great, so while you were out someone did things in your name. Not bad things, either. He was Tony Stark too. If you are some form of me, there are a lot of things that you've done that I'm sure you don't remember. No one is asking you to stop being who you are, Tony. But for everyone else this is round two.

Besides, this is still your legacy.

[ Right. Round two. Take one away. Slot in another. No difference, right? Because he’s just a name and a face, a body to add to the count. Irrelevant. Unnecessary.

And he’s just supposed to like it? ]

My legacy isn’t this.

[ If he’s just a clone, an easily replaceable mass of blood, bone, tissue, and borrowed memories, then the truth is, he doesn’t have a legacy at all. ]

Whatever. Doesn’t matter, right?

Right. It doesn't matter.

[He objectively knows that this is an offense to their identities, but he's been shoving that aside because it's just not going to get him anywhere if he panics now. And now that this Tony is planting his feet, he can't understand why he would waste him time with that.]

You're still you. Your friends are here and we kind of need your help if we're going to help them.

[Borrowed or not, it's still part of them.]

If they are just twisting memories, then we need to find out how they're bringing everyone in and how we can get home. And we know that they are taking us from different dimensions whether we're clones or not. I'm not you.

[ Versions of his friends. People who look and sound and practically are the people from his home. But they're not, are they? Not if they're clones. Not if he's a clone. ]

Yeah. I get that. I know you're not me.

[ But he sees his point. The kedan - he assumes it's them - are getting their memories and personalities from somewhere. They're not just fabricating them. Unless... Are they? There are a lot of things about his world that doesn't make sense. Maybe that's why. Maybe it's because the story he's been fed is a little sloppy in some places. ]

If it's different dimensions, that's easy. Just tear a hole in the space-time continuum. I've seen it. It's possible.

[ And he doesn't want to talk about it. ]

But if we're just meat-suits with implanted memories, there's no guarantee they've come from anywhere. Maybe it's all just fiction. Some kedan paid to write lives for people like screenwriters write movies. I fly around in a metal suit. How realistic is that really?

You think they're just churning out these memories to keep us from asking questions? They picked the wrong guys to do it.

[If his life were a lie, they should have stopped a long time ago. The weirdness that he lived through--and at times it was really weird--leaves way too many loose ends.]

I have friends back home. I was actually just starting up a company before this. Things were... not good for a time and I sort of ended up in the hospital. Lost some memories.

[They're just exploring the possibilities. He's cautious about it, dancing around the details, but there's a point to make.]

I still remember making a time machine. I remember traveling to other realms and I don't really go out of my way to do it. If they're coming up with these lives for us, they aren't taking any effort to convince us to stay. Pretty sure Fury would have just made us all soldiers. It would keep us from asking questions. How practical is it to leave so much open if have can implant whatever you want?

I still think I'm me. If I weren't me, I couldn't access the suit or know the things I do. But some things aren't adding up.

[ If he could talk about it without actually having to think about it and relive it, Tony would tell him what has transpired in his life recently. What he thinks of as his life. Maybe it’s not. Now he isn’t so sure. But he can’t talk about it. He doesn’t want to. ]

I’d like to think that too. Things only I know that couldn’t be replicated. But where’s the control in that experiment? What do I know that only I truly know? What can’t be fabricated?

[ He isn’t a philosopher. He’s never wanted to be. But cloning and memory implantation, something he only knows through science fiction, is a slippery slope and it’s easy for the paranoia to take hold. ]

Who knows? I don’t have the answer to that. Not yet.

What about what you don't know?

[It's an off-the-cuff answer, but as he says it the idea sticks. It's one thing to fill them with artificial memories, but another to make those memories coordinate.]

Talk to them. Ask them about your world. You know the first question a friend asked when she met me here was whether or not she had punched me.

[It's not so much the question's answer as the question itself that was familiar. Tony isn't having a breakdown yet. He doesn't like the possibility that the Emperor has recreated his technology, but from what he's seen, they don't know how to use it. And they don't know the significance, or there would be a lot more weapons arming the kedan. The situation is still workable. Just as long as he doesn't think too hard about how it affects who he is.]

I am Tony Stark. Trust me, if they were making our lives up they would have come up with something better than this.

Some friend. You two close or is she just that enthusiastic with everyone she knows?

[ Not that he doesn't remember people like that. Might not be the same person, he hasn't seen many familiar faces since he woke up, but he's known plenty of people who would've liked to have taken a crack at him. Or had.
]

I see some of them, I'll talk to them. Timelines are a little skewed with the ones I've spoken to, though. Makes it harder.

Wouldn't really be her any other way.

[The smile is a little dry, but still appreciative. It's one of the better parts of his history. He has to take the good times however they come.]

She's a teammate.

[He can almost see the wall that's up. Not that he blames him. It's an unsolved problem and has been since he arrived there. But he's still going to talk because it's Tony.]

Talk to the ones that are here. Just think of it as a cross-dimensional party that just so happens to be caught in a time loop. The people here are different, but that happens when you jump dimensions.

[ The only teammate, and he uses that term in the loosest sense of the word, he has is Natasha Romanoff, and he wouldn't really talk about him like this. He knows there are others with his name out there with other teams, some not even called Avengers. It's not surprising to hear this, but it does make him wonder about these other worlds.

How they're different. And why. ]

I try to keep the partying to a minimum these days.

[ The last one hadn't gone over so well. ]

Still, when in Rome...

Do you? Good for you.

[He has to comment on that. Not really because it's important, but because it's not. It fills the space between them without adding to the tension and makes him feel more comfortable. And Tony doesn't really think twice about approving of that particular decision.]

We keep having this problem with inter-dimensional travel. I think we attract it. I'd say I've been lucky lately, but here we are.

[It doesn't bother him too much as long as he can find a way out. The more unsettling part of this situation is the number of people involved.]

You get used to it.

Amazing what you can get used to these days, isn't it?

[ It's offhand and casual, but it has to be. He doesn't do feelings, and maybe it should be easier with himself, with someone who knows how important it is to avoid them and present an untouchable exterior, but it's not.

Maybe that's just because he's feeling superfluous. He's never been very adept at dealing with feeling mediocre and unnecessary. ]

I'll deal. We both will. Something tells me that we always do.

We're adaptable.

[He keeps the casual tone to agree with that. Tony doesn't want to break through the act any more than his counterpart does. Everything becomes a lot easier to talk about when you pretend it doesn't matter. And maybe it really doesn't. He hasn't decided about that part yet.]

Anyway, they're pulling us here for a reason. And based on what we've got, they have limited resources. That, or they're just bad at it.

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Private; encrypted 100% unhackable

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