Gods and Monsters (Dave/Karl)

[horseboykarl]

The morning after Cupid visits Karl

The sun comes up while I’m still staring at the list, wondering how badly my life is going to suck if any of these people show up in it. Just when I had things almost where I wanted them. Running into Viggo and Orlando the other night seemed to have helped, because Eric was a lot more relaxed by the time we left and I’m pretty sure we’ve gotten past all that insecurity on his part.

The thought of breakfast turns my stomach, but I force myself to eat something and then I shower, trying to keep myself occupied until I think Dave might possibly be awake. At eight-thirty I can’t take it anymore and I dial his cell.

“Dave? . . . Yeah, sorry it’s so early, mate, but I need to see you.”

“As soon as possible. Where are you?”

“All right, I’m on my way.”

I hang up before he can protest, shrugging on my leather jacket and grabbing my helmet. I forgot my gloves and the chill air over my skin clears my head. I pull up in front of his cabin and march to his door, banging on it.

“Hey, you got any coffee?”

Dave: I yank open the door wincing. "Could you possibly bang a little louder? There's an old lady on the far end of Hutt Valley that didn't quite hear you. Get in here, wanker." The coffee's ready, I'd brewed a pot for Paris before he took off for the construction site, and I quickly get us two giant mugfuls.

"So what's so damned important it couldn't wait a few hours?" I lead you back out onto the front porch where the comfortable Adirondack chairs are, thinking a peaceful setting might help you settle out. It's not like you to pull dramatics like this, something's definitely gotten to you.

Karl: The coffee is fresh and strong, and the first swallow steadies me. I sit in the chairs on your porch and take a breath. This isn't your fault, although I would have appreciated a heads up on this.

"Ran into Viggo and Orli at the Firkin the night before last. Happens that seeing me triggered some memory of Viggo's. About a second bowl and you and him cavorting around with it at Uluru. Said I was involved with it too."

I remember asking you for the news when I first got back to town, and you sure as fuck didn't tell me about this. I push my anger away, I need answers and screaming at you isn't going to help anything.

Dave: Okay, this is... out of the blue. And you're angry! I can hear it in your tone. "Well, yeah, we did find a second bowl. We were taking a stab at getting ours returned, but it didn't work. Damn thing was right back on the pedestal when we got home, the fucker." I pause and sip my coffee, wondering why we're talking about this. "Vig buried something he found while I was burying our bowl back then, yeah." I wrack my memory to pull up the images from inside the rock, the day Vig and I were in there. I was pretty intent on getting the job done, and distracted by the snake in the wall... but yeah, Vig was burying a metal bowl.. ah, and now I'm connecting some mental dots, there was that dream I had way back when I was in the Dark, you and me in the same damned place with a metal bowl.

"Look, mate. Viggo talks in weird ways sometimes. I think I'm a lot more down to earth, okay, simpleminded compared to him or to Hugo for that matter. I had a dream about you and I and a metal bowl in the rock, a long long time ago. I wasn't in my right mind when I had it. I suspect I may have been a little insane at the time, to be honest."

Why haven't I connected these two memories before now? Maybe I didn't want to. "Viggo buried a metal bowl during our visit, at that was the end of it. No harm, no foul. My dream hasn't come back. This is all old news, Karl, why's it got you so upset?"

Karl: "Because Viggo got a second shift from that bowl! And he's not from Middle Earth. Where's your computer?" Viggo was afraid of this one's power and I don't know enough about religion to know if I screw up or not, so I'm not going to risk talking about it.

You lead me inside. "Go on IMDB and pull up the list of Viggo's films. I'll show you who it is, he didn't want to talk about it out in the open. Said that saying his name gives him power, so don't say it."

After you find the list, I run the arrow down to the name. "Him. Viggo's had him in his head because of that second bowl. Still think it's no harm?"

Dave: I can't say a word. I'm angry and scared and so completely damned confused all in one solid rush that I don't even know what to tell you. I stand up, leaving the computer on that list and walk over to the fireplace. I can add a few logs, I can find the matches and the kindling and get a good fire started. Yes, I can. It's a simple task, and the end result is something I can understand.

It's a lot simpler to watch the flames licking up over the wood, easier to stare at the bark curling back from the heat, and it makes a whole lot more sense than the concept that Viggo's walking around Wellington with a time bomb in his head.

Karl: At your stunned silence, my anger runs out of me. I guess you didn't know about this and now I'm worried about you. I pull you into a hug, muttering nonsense meant to be soothing, I think. You stand there passively.

"Hey, mate, come on. Viggo said he's gone now." You need to pull your head together, because I still need to know what happened.

Dave: Okay, simplistic as it sounds, a hug helps. I lean my forehead against you for a few minutes, just breathing, before I finally step back and give you a sheepish but still confused look.

"Well, I'm glad he's gone, but who's to say he won't come back someday? I had a bad shift once, Karl, you know that. But he's dead and I know it, I know where he came from and I know how he died. Telling me that..." I nearly say the name but remember your warning "... Vig's new shift is gone isn't enough. Unless Vig killed him, and I don't think that's possible."

Karl: You seem steadier finally and I let you go. I rake my hand through my hair. "I don't know exactly what happened to him. Viggo didn't even tell me who it was, just gave me clues that I worked out this morning." After getting my sleep interrupted. "You'd have to ask Vig about it."

"But, Dave, he said that you and I were messing with the bowl in a dream. I don't remember anything about it. I was in India then and I dreamed so much that they all run together. Fuck, I need to know . . . Did I look into that bowl?"

Dave: Damn right I'm going to ask Vig about this. Just as soon as I can, too. Might make it a phone call, I don't think face to face is going to be pretty right now, and .... well, admit it Dave, you don't want to piss him off enough to meet the new guy in town, do you?

Somehow I remember I've got feet and I go get my cup of coffee. Way too early to spike it, tempting as the thought is. "You don't remember the dream at all, do you Karl?" I laugh dryly. "You were also sitting in an easy chair in the middle of the desert. So how much of this dream should we take seriously?" I pause, studying your face, and clearly you're still worried. Vig can shake a guy up, I know, and apparently he's done a number on you. But I'm angry because he didn't tell me everything, and I'm not going to do that to you, and I mumble the rest. "You were playing fast and loose with the bowl, goofing off with it, and I think you might have looked, yeah."

Karl: Your words send a shiver of ice down my spine and I wordlessly gulp from the cup in my hand.

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that. Here's the thing . . . I dream about Éomer a lot and sometimes it's just dreams. But other times . . . we're actually together, in my head. Last night, I had a dream like that, but it wasn't him this time, it was someone else. Way back when . . . just like Viggo did, I played someone who could be considered a demi-god. He showed up in my head last night. And it happened before I knew what Vig meant. I sort of blew it off, too, until I had that dream."

And it may be personally humiliating for me, but the implications are what I don't like to think about. You look surprised. "Yeah, fucking Cupid." And unfortunately, that's pretty much the problem.

Dave: "Well, Fuck, Karl. But... it could be worse, right? I mean, Cupid's not evil. He's just... this cute guy with wings that makes people fall in love!" I'm trying to cheer you up but it's not working at all, and then it occurs to me how hideous it would be if you suddenly sprouted wings while waiting in a bank queue. "I didn't know you dreamed about Éomer, but that makes some sense that you might, you two have a connection we understand. But this... you've never dreamed of any of your other roles?"

I'm so glad I didn't touch that damned metal thing. Fleeting images of Audrey, Friar Carl, Johnny Spitieri dash through my brain... and then what you're explaining hits me, I wasn't seeing the logic at first. "Karl! Our bowl, the original one, it only channels Tolkien's creations. This metal bowl, are you telling me you think it's tuned in to deities?"

Karl: I look at you sourly. "He's not all that cute. Cupid's his Roman name, his name in Greek is Eros. I'm sure you can work out what that means for yourself."

You're quick for being in shock a few minutes ago. "That's exactly what I think. Vig's shift is a supernatural entity, so's Cupid. The first bowl tapped into Middle Earth, I think this other one taps into the gods and goddesses or whatever from this world. So far it's just the three of us that have had any sort of contact with it, and it's just a theory, I've got a fucking hard time believing I can get a shift from some dream I don't even remember."

"But if it's true, I seem to remember that all they did was fighting and fucking, if they bring their issues here . . . " I take a deep breath. "So, what's in your filmography?"

Dave: I can't help rolling my eyes and groaning. "Great. Fighting and fucking. That's a change of pace for a shift for you." The computer's still open on imdb.com, and I pull up my own listing for you. "See? No deities. Just a Friar and a Priest, and a lot of very-human arseholes." I know damn well what roles I played, but I find myself reviewing the list anyway, just to be sure. "Besides, I barely saw the metal bowl, never went near it, never touched it, never looked in it. And my dreams have all been pretty peaceful lately."

But then I remind myself this started from a dream. "I'm still hooked in somehow though, aren't I? I had the dream in the first place. Shit."

Karl: I can’t go through all the shit that I did with Éomer, I just can’t. But part of that was me refusing to accept that what was happening was real. Maybe this time, I can get a head start on things.

“Only one thing to do then. Gotta prove this one way or another, and I’m not waiting around to get surprised by this one. Good thing you’re here, if I find him, you can explain the facts of life to him.”

You start sputtering and I cut you off. “Look, I don’t want him popping out when I’m someplace public, or when I’m by myself and don’t know what’s happened. And if he tries to molest you, you can just call Faramir. I’m sure he can cope with a horny demi-god.” For now, I’m overlooking your crack about the common denominators among my shifts.

I close my eyes, trying to call Cupid the way I do Éomer. Shit. That reminds me. I open my eyes and pull off my jacket, and then on consideration take off my shirt, too. You’re yelping again. “Éomer’s ripped my clothes before. I don’t want to ruin my favorite jacket. Wings . . . you know.”

I concentrate, picturing him in my mind.

Dave: Okay, so I have a half-naked good friend in my living room who's going to try to turn into a winged creature from legend that might just try to shove me against a wall. I decide to do what any sane man would do given the situation. Faramir? Right, good morning. Don't shift in completely, just... stay with me here. Karl may turn into something that you might have to help me out with. Let's both watch over him now, all right? I'll explain it all later.

Together we step back and give you a little distance, watch your every move intently. There's an extension cord on the coffee table, and I reach to grab it. I guess I've got some half-assed notion of hogtying you if things go crazy and I get half a chance.

Karl: Remembering back to when I was working on Xena, I picture him and his attitude and . . . uh, his body from last night. I search my mind for him, visualizing him taking over, the wings sprouting, my hair getting shorter and bleached. I call him over and over again.

My brow is crinkled in concentration and I keep looking. But . . . nothing.

I decide to test the connection, maybe it's not working at all. So I start looking for horseboy. Éomer? I feel him stir sleepily in my mind. It's okay, go back to sleep, I was just checking the link.

I open my eyes, seeing you standing there wild-eyed with an extension cord in your hands. I wonder what you were planning to do.

"Can't find him. Éomer's still there, but no Cupid."

Dave: Okay, Faramir, false alarm. Thanks, and..... eh? Oh, christ. Okay, I'll tell him. See you later. Faramir slips away and I realize I'm completely tensed up, fingers twitching on the cord I'm gripping. Sheepishly I lay it back on the table, and nod at you.

"Well, that's good." I walk past you and pick up your shirt, stealing a furtive look at your shoulder blades as I turn to hand it to you. Not even a hint of a bulge under the skin. I feel better now.

"Still, I don't think you should let your guard down all the way yet. You call me if he does manage to get through, okay?" I pause, chewing my lip, and then roll my eyes and sigh. "Faramir was helping me watch you. He wanted me to pass a message to Éomer. Something about hunting and next time he'll remember rope, and it's Éomer's turn to buy dinner and pick a rooftop. I think maybe he's been drinking."

Karl: Yeah, I'll pass that right on. I snort. I’m starting to get tired of being horseboy’s social secretary. I pull my shirt back on and pick up the coffee. Blech, it's gone cold. I set it down and start pacing, trying to think.

"No, I don't think he's there, it was a big nothing. So, either I can't get a shift from a dream. Or . . . that bowl was specifically aimed at Viggo."

I wonder . . . "Since I don't remember the dream, maybe I didn't have actually have it. Could have been that fucker . . . " I gesture, "trying to trap Vig. Our bowl makes a certain amount of sense, but having another one? That's a bit much." I don't know how to explain to you what I was feeling when I was looking, just a total absence of anything. Last night was just a very vivid, very lurid dream then. I'm so relieved that I don't have another shift.

Dave: "It sure sounds like you're off the hook - just because I saw you in a dream.... well, if this was all being manipulated by someone evil, he could've been taking advantage of me being in bad shape back then." I take your cold coffee from you and stick our cups in the sink. "I was pretty weak. Maybe it all was just a set up to get to Vig somehow. It's damned confusing, isn't it?"

And if I think this is confusing, somehow I know Vig's explanation isn't going to make it any simpler. I'm not looking forward to that phone call, but I've got to make it, I need the closure if nothing else.

"Hey, it's still pretty early. Want to go out and get some breakfast? My treat? Been a hell of a morning, and... well, fuck, I think I want to keep an eye on you for a little while longer. Just in case."

Karl: I raise an amused eyebrow. "Your treat? Ah, my food psychic is still in business, then." And I snicker at you. "Yeah, I see what your keeping an eye on . . . my arse is irresistible, is it?"

Being up all night an worrying about being possessed by a randy cherub is enough to make a person go off his feed. But somehow I escaped that fate, and I realize suddenly that I'm hungry.

"All right, let's go, mate."

Dave: "Yeah, yeah, yeah. If I want to see a real arse, I'll watch your face!" I duck and run down the hall to grab my leather coat. "Let's take your bike, all right? Then I can watch your back for you. Literally."