Chapter Text
Xisuma
“Ooooh Shashwammy Void!”
Xisuma had just enough time to brace for impact before an overly friendly arm was slung around his shoulders, and he was lucky he did because otherwise he certainly would’ve dropped the stack of papers he’d just finished organizing.
Xisuma was the head of Over-city Relations with the Under-City Labs.
What exactly did that mean?
Well, a few things.
He coordinated with Pix to keep the rail cart stations both concealed from any out-of-the-loop humans as well as running properly. He also received and categorized orders from various different clans, levels, pyres, and other groups of what-have-you.
Orders for what?
Supplies from the over-city, of course.
Now, the under-city had certainly figured out how to work around a lot of the restrictions that came with being a society trapped underground. The labs had long since figured out how to grow staple crops and keep animals within the tunnel offshoots or other caverns through a mixture of redstone components. Knowing how all that worked was beyond Xisuma’s purview, though. Not that he didn’t dabble.
No, Xisuma’s main job was receiving and then disturbing the supplies they did get imported from the over-city, like blood pumps back into the veins.
And that meant dealing with the other side of his coin.
“You through already?” He asked, but amusement betrayed any true irritation in his tone.
Keralis grinned at him. “But of course, you know I’m a professional!”
“Sure y’are.”
“So little faith in me, Shashwam, I’m wounded!”
Keralis was human.
With longish brown hair tied back into a ponytail that bounced and bobbed, and a neat plait pinned to either side above his ears to keep his bangs from tumbling over his big brown eyes. He was tall and thin, wearing a red plaid button-down, the top few buttons left open, and work-worn jeans. Boots with metals toes considering his line of work required the movement of much material.
He was one of their supply runners.
Keralis and his company served as an in-between, purchasing supplies in the over-city and reselling them to the labs for a profit. He always kept the margins fair, and part of Xisuma’s job was occasionally renegotiating those prices, but that always developed more into Keralis’ having far to much fun trying to haggle with him.
He’d once tried to trade Xisuma a dinner date over a crate of sweet berries.
He’s a jokester, that’s for certain.
Xisuma casually shrugged Keralis’ arm from around his shoulders and straightened up. He was a little taller than the human, enderman mutants, more commonly known as voidwalkers, were typically tall and willowy.
He wore a tight-fitting dark green shirt tucked into baggy black pants with plenty of pockets and a belt for various tools. Clunky, chunky boots, thick gloves for handling crates of supplies, and of course, his helmet.
Which Xisuma certainly wished he only wore as a fashion statement.
The helmet was a dark gray metal with a mouthpiece that covered the lower half of his face, and a pale purple tinted visor through which the glow of his eyes could pierce. It completely covered his head and sealed into an additional neckpiece. His need for such a heavy piece of hardware was, unfortunately, rather simple.
He really did prefer being able to breathe, thanks.
Glamor was a peculiar thing. Some sub-species used it for it’s effects, some used it out of convenience, others depended on it to survive on the day-to-day. Voidwalkers fell into that last category. They used glamor to produce void-density air around their heads, making it easier for them to breathe. The purple particles that tended to float and twinkle in the air around Voidwalkers, as well as the purple and star-streaked highlights that wove into their hair, was from their constant glamor usage.
The issue was, Xisuma’s glamor was weak by voidwalker standards.
It’s not to say that he wasn’t capable of producing void density air himself, he could, but…it wasn’t the second nature that his kin were capable of.
If his heart rate accelerated too quickly, if his breathing was too fast, if he was exerting himself beyond, perhaps, walking slowly or sitting around, he lost his breath, quite literally.
Needless to say, growing up hadn’t exactly been easy, while dealing with that. The Voidwalker clans were at least a tightly-knit group. His parents and his clan had supported him endlessly, they’d tried to seek some sort of help for him considering anything above a slow, steady stroll would have him wheezing in a matter of seconds.
It had been years before they’d trusted the Labs enough to bring him there, though. Which was fair. Anarchy and all.
Doc had been the one who’d come up with the design for Xisuma’s helmet.
It pressurized the air he breathed so his weak glamor could keep up, since he didn’t have to worry about maintaining the pressure himself on top of actually producing. The helmet had quite literally changed his life.
Then on top of that, he’d gotten offered a job.
Considering he’d spent much of his childhood sealed up indoors unable to participate in much of anything, he’d read and research and do essentially whatever kept his interest.
His fascination with the over-city paid dividends now.
At least, as far as negotiations went, which, well…
Back to Keralis.
“I’m sure you did excellent…so, everything offloaded for the day?” Xisuma asked, and Keralis threw his arms out and spun once with a wide grin.
“Of course, of course, I took care of it all for you, sweet-face!”
Xisuma rolled his eyes. Keralis probably couldn’t see that much detail considering the only features that showed through his tinted visor was the glow of his dark purple eyes, but he did it anyway.
“I appreciate it…well, if that’s the case, we can call it a day, I’ll have all these shipped out on the cargo rails tomorrow morning…” Xisuma flipped through his stack of papers again as he strolled along the row of neatly organized crates. Keralis stayed close at his side, his large eyes flitting between Xisuma’s face and the crates.
Or well…Xisuma’s visor and the crates.
Because again.
Helmet.
“You calling it quits after this?”
“I am.”
“But what about that loan?”
Xisuma paused in his walking and looked up, then turned his head to meet Keralis’ eyes.
“What loan?” He asked, lowering his papers, already filing back into his mind trying to recall if they’d discussed any sort of new monetary agreement in the supplies trade today.
“You know, the loan you gave me!” Keralis continued beaming at him as he brushed down the front of his red plaid, the top few buttons left undone exposing tanned skin and collarbone.
That only deepened Xisuma’s confusion.
“I gave you a loan?” He asked, tilting his head.
“You must’ve! Because you have my interest! So, whatcha say to a little dinner? My treat!” Keralis stepped in front of him and puffed up, sweeping an arm to the side with overblown bravado.
It was a twinge of confused, desperate agony that slingshotted through his system, but then, the voidwalker already knew his reply to these sorts of things.
Xisuma snorted.
The single noise quickly devolved into a full-blown laugh, he raised one gloved hand to the mouthpiece of his helmet, where the speakers that channeled his voice resided in small slits. Then he waved Keralis to the side and looked back at his papers.
“6 outta 10. Save the pick-up lines for your crushes, would ya? Haven’t y’heard it’s bad to have romance in the workplace, anyway?”
Not like I think that would ever actually happen.
Keralis grinned at him, seeming pleased to have gotten a laugh, and swung back into stride beside him.
Xisuma was too busy looking at his papers to see his first step was a little faulty.
“Your bosses are literally married, sweet-face.”
“Are they now? Couldn’t’ve guessed.”
They laughed again.
It was the same song and dance.
Keralis flirted as he breathed.
Perhaps not the best comparison when Xisuma was in mind, but he thought he’d use it anyway. The human seemed to find particular joy in testing his cheesiest, most ridiculous pick-up lines on Xisuma whenever they were winding down from the business side of things. Because for all the negotiations, Xisuma did consider Keralis a very dear friend.
Perhaps that was where the stab of agony came from?
It would be so stupid, though.
To dimly think maybe, just maybe, Keralis meant any of those wild little lines he tossed around…but then, Keralis also called the burly fish hybrid who worked on the cargo rails ‘Princess,’ and he used the term ‘sweet-face’ for just about everyone he spoke too, so hoping for any of the flirtation to actually be genuine was pure foolishness.
After all, Keralis had never even seen his face.
Not like many of his work friends had, to be fair. Xisuma preferred to keep that weaker part of himself hidden away for nights at his apartment, trying to relax and testing out the newest brand of chafing cream that came highly recommended from XB, who was always looking for ways to up his moisturizing routine.
Fish hybrids.
But anyway.
Xisuma wasn’t about to buy even for an instant that Keralis was actually flirting with him, the lines he tried were inane at best, and so what if Xisuma sometimes felt his cheeks growing hot at that brilliant grin that lit up the other mans face after he’d delivered the punch line?
So what if Keralis was this beautiful thing that Xisuma knew he didn’t stack up to?
So what if this person he kept folded up in his heart, so privately adored, used him as a backboard for goofy one-liners?
Xisuma wouldn’t admit aloud that he adored them.
And if he were blushing, lavender a hue that bled into pink, particles trying to flicker like fireworks behind his visor, it didn’t matter anyway.
Like he already said, Keralis couldn’t even see his face.