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dcmidivine · 4 years

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you can’t fire me, i quit! || devin (& gene)

Devin refused to die in a polo shirt.

If someone had told her that morning that her boss was going to turn into a flaming metal donkey lady, her response would have been along the lines of "no surprise there" or "do I still need to go to my shift?". Anything was better than the mind-numbing boredom of another day leaning against a rack of sunglasses, watching sullen teenagers stroll by with their parents and getting scolded for 'attitude' from her weird ass boss.

Her weird ass boss who was now on fire and growling at her like Koa playing tug of war with her favourite stuffed bear. Maybe there were some things worse than customer service.

Devin scowled and squared up. Someone to her left had their phone up, recording. She was not going to be caught running from this– whatever it was. Animated kindergarten collage? The crumbs found at the bottom of a monster variety pack? Wings, a metal limb and a donkey leg seemed overkill, but at the same time, oddly familiar. She had read about this kind of thing, she was certain.

Now would be the perfect time for some stinging last words, but, face to face with the nightmare that had barely been paying her minimum wage, the only thoughts in her brain were kick it in the face followed by bad plan, it's on fire.

"Devin!" A mess of blond hair appeared beside her. For once in his life, her boyfriend showed up at the perfect time. "What the– what the hell is going on?"

Not the most encouraging entrance, but he did have her field hockey stick in his hand, which she promptly plucked out of his hand and brandished like the referee had turned a blind eye. It may be nothing more than wood against a flaming hell demon, but the familiar weight in her hands helped dial up her confidence. Everything was easier when you could hit your problems with a stick. "Fucking bitch ass boss coming at me!"

Eli made a sound that sounded something like "hrnh?". It wasn't very helpful, but Devin appreciated the effort.

"I've waited a long time for this," the creature growled, stalking forward towards them. Its shape was changing in a dizzying blur between the monster and her old boss, tacky polo and all– oh, mythology. It was something to do with mythology, but the term escaped her, clinging to the tip of her tongue. Her boss split into a grin, baring teeth sharpened to a point. Devin was impressed that Eli stood his ground alongside her until she glanced over to see his body locked in fear. So much for fight or flight.

The blur in corner of her eye was all the warning she got before she hit the ground, years of training all that saved her from a concussion as she instinctively tucked her head towards her chest. In the split second her attention was distracted, the monster had pounced. Empousa, her brain helpfully supplied as she found herself staring up at its face. That’s the word.

“Hey ugly!” A pair of sunglasses sailed past the empousa’s head and clattered away across the floor. It snapped its head to the side to search for the threat and the next pair caught it in the teeth. That distraction was all she needed. Seizing her field hockey stick from where it had dropped beside her, she squeezed her eyes shut and pictured a baseball bat as she put all her strength into cracking it across the base of her boss’s skull. With a satisfying clunk, the monster dropped like a sack of brick. Devin rolled, shoving the limp form off of her, and sat up to witness the scene before her of her boyfriend, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, wielding a bouquet of sunglasses in each hand like a fistful of darts.

“Babe.” Devin ran over as soon as she found her feet. He had saved her life– and wrecked half the sunglasses cart, which was somehow more touching. The mall around them had emptied out. Devin hoped no one got the last part on video: Local Youtuber donkey-kicked to mall floor was not a headline she wanted on her resume.

Eli was touching her face and saying something about Gene.

“Oh, yeah.” Devin pulled a piece of chipped monster tooth out of her hair, which, all things considered, was pretty cool. By her feet, the empousa was already beginning to stir. She gave it another healthy crack across the head, double checked Eli was behind her, and took off in a sprint towards the exit.

Devin skidded to a halt on the inside of the doors, Eli on her heels, and slammed her hand into the door where her brother was dragging a potted plant around with one of his college friends. What the fuck? she mouthed at Gene, wasting a second to point at the plant incredulously and wonder when she became the normal one in the family. "Jesus fuck, you won't believe what just fucking happened. We gotta go."

Gene started mumbling about a dog, so she turned to leave. He seized her arm when she began to push the door open. Devin huffed. "Let us out, what the hell is your problem?" She stuck her thumb back over her shoulder, narrowly missing one of Eli’s eyes where he was hunched over. "My boss just turned into some freaky hellspawn and she's not staying down for long."

Gene’s friend- Ren?- conjured two swords out of chopsticks and before she could question the illusion, Devin dropped her field hockey stick to grab one. She didn’t have time to process the magic before something even weirder caught her attention about Gene’s friend. "Okay, okay, okay," she muttered to herself, taking a step backwards into Eli. "Cool cool cool. Goat man. That's cool. This is fine. Regular Friday afternoon."

Her grip on her sword tightened painfully as, out of the blue, a massive black dog slammed into the glass doors. Startled, she leapt back onto Eli’s foot, who whined either in pain or fear. She didn’t blame him– it was a terrifying sight for her, and she liked dogs. Adrenaline coursing through her, her vision sharpened, and she could see the spiderweb of cracks beginning to appear in the glass. She stepped in front of her boyfriend, a wave of protective energy rising in her, shoving his chest. "Fuck! Back, Eli, get back!"

Spinning around to face the dog, Devin shifted her grip around on the sword, trying to recall all she could about sword fighting from the research she had put into cosplays over the years. Foam was a poor imitation for the real thing, she was realizing now– no matter how she moved her hands, the weapon still felt clunky and wrong in her grip. Just stab it however you can, she told herself, falling into the ready position she used in tennis and squaring up to prepare for the fight.

Then, the plant exploded.

Devin yelped and stumbled backwards, finally not running into her boyfriend now that he had taken her advice. "Gene, fuck! The dog, get the dog!" she yelled at her brother who had lost his mind screaming at the leaves, irritation finding its place within her alongside the near overwhelming rush of fear and adrenaline. Despite how thick the growth was already, the dog was making quick process chewing through the wines as they appeared– with a groan, Devin steeled herself and ran forward. To her right, her brother dropped, and she faltered. Leave it to Gene to knock himself out slipping on a leaf at the one time when she couldn’t laugh at it. He could take the fun out of anything.

Ren grimaced to her right. "Oof, oh no. Devin, you got this! Go for the throat! Another blow might be able to get it!" Metal footfalls began to echo around the corner. "Uh, and maybe make that kinda quick, Dev? We've got company." He glanced over his shoulder at the approaching empousa. "Get me Gene's sword!"

The hellhound snapped so close to her face she could smell what it had for breakfast. Devin slid back into reality with a start. Without taking her eyes off the dog struggling with the vines before her, Devin inched her way over to Gene’s sword where it lay beside him. Kicking it back to Terence may not have been how he had wanted to have to transferred, but Devin’s arms were going numb from holding up the sword and she didn’t think she could loosen her grip if she tried.

“Here doggie!” she called, pretending the beast was Koa to keep the tremor out of her voice. A sickening screech of metal sounded behind her and she hoped that, by some twist of fate, it was a good thing. Either from her command or the fight behind her, the hellhound swung its head in her direction. It was kind of cute, in an ugly way. Devin wished it wasn’t trying to kill her. “Heeere puppy,” she muttered under her breath now, side stepping in an arc around it. Its eyes bore holes into her, tongue lolling out of its mouth as it tracked her movements.

Good news: the hellhound had stopped trying to free itself from the vines. Bad news: the hellhound had stopped trying to free itself because it was too busy watching her like she was a fresh cooked chicken. Her foot bumped her field hockey stick where it had been abandoned earlier. Slowly, she bent down to grab and lift it. The hound’s eyes followed the motion. “Good boy. Want the stick? You want the stick? Go fetch!”

Vines constricted and snapped around the dog as it lunged, for her or for the stick she didn’t know, but the moment of tension the plants gave was all the chance Devin needed. She dove forward as it struggled and rolled under its head, arcing the sword in a wide arc towards the throat with her eyes squeezed shut, prepared for either a shower of guts or death.

Neither came. Devin cracked one eye.

A fine dust was falling around her, like she was looking at the world from inside a snow globe. There was no sign of the hellhound. As she watched, Ren sliced through the empousa and it burst into another explosion of powder. Eli’s head popped up behind a trash can. Gene groaned as he rolled over beside her. Sirens started up in the background. She was covered in sweat and sitting in a pile of hellhound dust, yet her polo shirt was terribly, impossibly spotless.

“So like... we don’t have to pay for this, right?”

#devin #devinsp1 #dgene #ok it says & gene but he's in this for a single second

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