126- Do you want to play firefighters? Together, we can practice ‘stop, drop and roll.’
DAMIEN
“…Right. So we’re dealing with a self operating, possibly sentient, caffeinated chaos entity. Cool. Love that for us.” Eli mutters, broom in hand as he eyes the mess. For once, I don’t object to his rambling. He’s not distracted, he’s processing. And if he needs to process out loud, fine by me. I’m too tired to argue with that, too tired to do much more than keep mopping purple sludge and trying not to scream. The coffee machine sits there on the counter, still as anything, pretending to be a normal appliance. Innocent. Harmless. The damn liar. The bright neon goo bubbles faintly as it continues to leak down its sides, slow and deliberate, like it KNOWS that we can’t stop it. The smell filling the kitchen is awful and sickly sweet, like the cheapest kind of bubblegum, the kind that tastes like plastic and chemicals and regret. Eli edges closer, using the broom to push the slime aside so he can inspect the machine more closely. He listens to my warning and doesn’t touch any of it, but it’s probably still getting on his shoes. Note to self: buy Eli boots as an apology slash thank you. Because if cleaning his shoes is anything like trying to clean my shirt, we’re going to have to burn them. Damn it, I have no idea HOW I’m going to get this kitchen clean. And I REALLY hope we don’t get called out on an emergency, because I am absolutely not ready to explain this mess to the rest of the station. The machine lets out a low hum as Eli leans in. Not a mechanical hum. There’s something wrong with it. I can’t place what exactly, but it’s… Too smooth. Too deliberate. It raises the hairs on the back of my neck.
“Yep.” Eli says, peering at the faint runes etched into the casing.
“There is definitely magic involved here.” He confirms.
“No kidding.” I mutter grumpily, still dragging the mop through another puddle with grim futility. Eli crouches for a better look.
“Where the hell did you even get this thing? And why didn’t you call me sooner?” He demands. I groan and shove the mop across the floor again. It doesn’t help. It just spreads.
“Because I thought I was just struggling with technology, not magic.” I grumble.
“I don’t automatically assume sorcery every time I have trouble with a piece of equipment.” I gesture helplessly at the machine.
“I figured it was one of those over designed models with Bluetooth, a touchscreen, maybe a coffee subscription service built into it. Or, I don’t know. A vendetta against humanity.” I argue. Eli snorts.
“A vendetta?” He repeats, clearly amused. I level him with a flat look.
“It growled at me, Eli.” I point out. He shrugs, still grinning.
“Fair.” He agrees. Then he backs away from the machine a bit, thankfully. I let out a slow sigh.
“I SO should’ve just smashed it with a sledgehammer when I had the chance.” I grumble. Eli turns to me, hands on his hips.
“So let me get this straight, you thought your coffee machine hated you, and your first instinct was to fight it instead of calling the guy whose literal job is dealing with cursed magical nonsense?” He questions, his eyebrow raised.
“I did call you.” I snap.
“You hesitated.” He fires back, narrowing his eyes. I open my mouth to bicker with him, then close it again. Honestly, it’s not MY fault this machine from hell appeared in the station kitchen. I didn’t install it. I didn’t summon it. I didn’t invite the glowing goo. BUT I also didn’t call Eli until I’d lost a full shirt and half the kitchen to this mess, so… Maybe he has a point. Plus it’s really not his fault either. He’s here to help. Maybe I should cut him a little slack. I rub a hand over my face in frustration.
“I was tired. And I just wanted a cup of coffee.” I tell him morosely. I’m STILL tired and I DESPERATELY want coffee. Eli nods solemnly, placing a hand over his chest like he’s mourning for me.
“A tragic tale. Truly. You were but a humble man in search of caffeine, only to be betrayed by enchanted kitchenware.” He says dramatically. I give him a look. The kind that says you’re NOT funny. He grins anyway. And then the coffee machine hisses. I blink.
“Did it just-?” I start but before I can finish, the steam wand, the weirdly angled one I’d been suspicious of earlier, shoots a burst of glitter infused vapor directly into the air. A cloud of sparkling particles fills the kitchen. It settles EVERYWHERE. On the counters. The walls. The mop. Me. Eli. The puddles of purple goo are now shimmering like radioactive disco jelly. I stare at the machine. Then at the room. Then at Eli. I am going to scream. Also, I am NEVER going to be able to get this room clean.
I glance frantically at Eli, silently begging him to pull out some kind of miracle. I have NO idea how to deal with this. This isn’t just a mess, it’s a magical mess. That’s HIS department. To my surprise, he looks… Relaxed. Almost casual, despite the fact that we’re nearly ankle deep in purple sludge and now glitter coated like we lost a fight with a craft store.
“Why aren’t you freaking out?” I demand, gesturing wildly at the chaos around us. Eli just shrugs.
“Well… Yeah, this is annoying. But it doesn’t seem all that dangerous, does it? I mean… Itchy purple goo and sparkles? Whatever enchantment is on this thing was probably just meant to distract and irritate, not injure. It’s petty magic. Harmless.” He explains calmly. I blink at him. He has a point, but I’m irritated and not willing to concede just yet.
“Yeah, until I get so frustrated that I murder someone.” I grumble. Eli rolls his eyes.
“You’re far too well behaved to murder someone. Even without caffeine.” He insists.
“Don’t be so sure.” I mutter darkly, and he laughs.
“Stop being so cheerful. It’s pissing me off.” I complain, still cranky.
“Sorry.” Eli answers, clearly not sorry.
“I just have good news. Since this ISN’T a technology issue, and we’ve confirmed it’s magical, I actually have a pretty solid idea of how to fix it.” He says. I freeze, blinking at him.
“Really?” I ask excitedly. He nods, positively beaming.
“Yes, really. I get called out on dumb magical incidents like this all the time. Low grade enchantments, prank level spells, that kind of thing. And most of them? They have built in shutdown phrases.” He explains. I stare.
“Shutdown phrases?” I repeat, confused.
“Like a password.” He explains, gesturing enthusiastically.
“Instead of a ‘power off’ button, the caster uses a trigger word to stop the effect. I’ve got a list of about a hundred of the most commonly used deactivation phrases saved in my phone. All we have to do is read them out loud. Theoretically, ONE of them should deactivate it.” Eli grins like he just invented fire. I stare at him, unsure if I should be relieved or deeply concerned. Does this sort of thing happen to him often?
“That’s it?” I ask skeptically.
“We just read out words until one works?” I clarify. Eli nods with full confidence.
“Yep. Quick and easy. No ritual circles, no blood offerings or complicated counter spells required. Classic low level nuisance magic.” He says cheerfully. It sounds… Ridiculous. But he’s the expert. And honestly? It’s not like I’ve got a better plan. I sigh.
“Fine. Let’s do it. It’s not like things can get any worse.” I grumble. The coffee machine lets out a low, wet squelch behind me. I turn slowly with my eyes narrowed.
“I shouldn’t have said that, should I?” I say, fighting another groan. Eli winces.
“Probably not.” He agrees.