Chapter Text
The catalyst for the rest of Xisuma’s life went into effect one dreary late February day. He had been at home, lounging on his sofa, fiddling with some paperwork from his last job – just closing up on it – when he received a phone call.
He sighed and picked up, unable to afford not to take anything new, even if he was already swamped. And he wasn’t really swamped, which was a bit of a problem in-and-of itself.
“Admin Locks, Xisuma speaking,” he said, hoping his voice was somewhat cheery.
“Oh, thank goodness. Mr Voide, isn’t it?” The person on the other end was rambling, hardly stopping to hear Xisuma’s hum of affirmation, “Do you do emergency services? Like, right now?”
“Depends on what you’re asking.”
“Well, this is a bit embarrassing…” a voice shouted something on the other end of the line, incomprehensible to Xisuma. “So my roommate does stuff in the basement – he’s a scientist, it’s NOT weird – and he’s kind of locked himself in accidentality. Obviously, it’s a basement, so he can’t really get out of a window, and he’d rather we not try and break the door down.”
Xisuma sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I may have to charge a bit extra for the immediate services,” he warned, “but if you give me your name and address, I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“That is such a relief! Name’s Impulse Vasey, and we live at 13 Hermit Grove.”
Hermit Grove… that didn’t seem too familiar; he didn’t think he’d done any work there before. Hopefully it wasn’t a bad area. A quick search showed it actually wasn’t terribly far away from him, a cul-de-sac near the edges of the city.
“Looks like it’ll take me about fifteen to twenty minutes to make it to you. Maybe twenty-five.”
“That’s great! Thank you so much, see you soon!”
Xisuma allowed himself a moment to groan before he closed his laptop lid and got ready to leave. Unfortunately, he did not leave his tools in his car – not wanting them to get stolen – and he had to go and find them all. It looked like this would be a drill-to-open job, so he needed to also bring something to clean up. Still, it didn’t take long before he’d bundled his tools into the trunk, in a sports bag so his neighbours didn’t see the expensive equipment, and was behind the driver’s seat.
He clutched the lapels of his dark green leather jacket closer to himself. It was an old gift, bought when the sleeves ended at his fingertips, and grown into so they sat just below the wrist. With the fingerless gloves, black baggy trousers, and heavy boots, he was sure that he wouldn’t be approached. It all helped to bulk out his tall, lanky figure, and hopefully appeared intimidating enough that nobody would bother him.
The effect may have been undercut a little bit by Bee, though; his old yellow Beetle, with small dents near the wheels and windows that wound down and chipped paint. He hadn’t been able to afford another car since he bought her, but he probably also wouldn’t choose to replace her if he could. Bee had been with him since before he graduated, a feat that was impressive when you considered the rest of his life.
She spluttered for a moment when he turned the key in the ignition before coming to life.
“That’s it,” he murmured to the car, giving her a pat. “You’ve got it in you.”
It turned out that Hermit Grove was actually a very lovely place; while Xisuma lived near the edge of the city in a broke way, it seemed these people did so in a “decently well-off” way. There was a circle of grass in the centre, that make a sort of roundabout, which was populated with a few trees and beds of flowers. The houses themselves were detached, each with a small section of garden in front, and likely slightly bigger ones around the back. Some had attic windows, most were two-story, and there was even a bungalow – out of which a grey and white fluffy cat watched him. Number 13 looked to be one of the slightly bigger houses. Out the front was a large van, bizarrely painted with the word ZITS, each letter a different colour (pink, yellow, red, and black respectively). There was space in front of it on the driveway, so Xisuma parked Bee and went to haul the sports bag out of the trunk.
The back of his neck prickled. Glancing around revealed nothing, but the strange feeling of being watched didn’t go away. His mouth twisted, but he knew it was likely just neighbours wondering what was going on. If he’d had time, he would have changed into something a little more “tradesman-professional” feeling, but he didn’t want to leave someone trapped in the basement.
Someone opened the door almost the moment he rang the doorbell. Xisuma blinked in surprise, hand still raised.
“Uh… hello,” he said, “I’m Xisuma Voide of Admin Locks.”
The man in front of him looked a little bit frantic. He was tall and well-built, with both a little muscle and chub. Brown stubble adorned his chin, which he rubbed with an apologetic look on his face, even as he looked Xisuma up and down with barely disguised surprise – eyes landing on the scar over his left eye, before flicking to his other one.
“Thanks,” he said, beckoning Xisuma to follow him. “Gosh, Zed can be such a dolt sometimes. I’m Impulse.” He led them through the hallway into a living room. It was decently spacious, likely owing to the size of the house. In it were two people – one also big and muscular, wearing an artfully torn suit, and the other with dyed bright yellow hair, dressed like he could be some sort of tradesman himself. The bright red glasses did throw that off slightly, but he supposed the man was probably off work right now, being the weekend.
“Workman’s here,” Impulse said.
“Ah, Zeddlebop can be freed from his self-imposed prison soon,” the man in the suit said. He was playing solitaire.
“I say leave him there,” the other one snarked. “Self-reflection time!”
“’Cmon Top, you know that he’d never actually do that.”
Top – what kind of name was that – cackled. “True.”
Impulse smiled at Xisuma and took him through to the kitchen, and the door to the basement. On it, in pink and yellow writing, was the words ZED’S WORKSHOP – ENTER AT YOUR OWN PERIL!!! (and when I ask for help). Xisuma couldn’t help but smile.
Setting down his bag, he said, “This should be quite a quick job hopefully. The lock looks compatible with drilling.” Then, he knocked on the door and yelled out, “Hello in there! I’m Xisuma, the locksmith!”
A cheerful voice called back, “Oh, my saviour! I was worried I’d have to eat, like, rat droppings or something before long!”
“It’s been one afternoon!” Impulse exclaimed. “Would you like a cup of tea, Mr Voide?”
“Please, just call me Xisuma,” he replied. “A cuppa would be lovely, thank you.”
He was right. The drilling did not take all too long to complete. At some point both of the other men migrated into the kitchen, and so all three residents were chatting at the table while Xisuma worked. It wasn’t all that unusual; while Xisuma knew that a lot of other tradesmen tended to get left alone while, say, repairing a boiler, people never quite seemed to trust him enough to leave him alone.
These guys at least seemed to be not paying attention to him. They were talking boisterously, even if Xisuma couldn’t hear them over the sound of the drill and his headphones (that weren’t playing music, he just didn’t want to listen to the drill). Finally he managed to get a screwdriver in and turn the lock. It clicked open.
“Door’s open!” he called, putting all his pieces away. “Although please don’t try to leave just yet; I have to clean up the debris.”
“Roger!” Zed replied, slightly further away than he had been before.
A hand clapped onto his shoulder and he jumped slightly with a bitten-back noise.
“We really can’t thank you enough,” Impulse said warmly. “Knowing us, we would have destroyed the kitchen trying to do that ourselves.”
“So little faith,” blond said. He was currently swinging back on his chair, one foot balancing him on the table.
The three of them began bickering again while Xisuma cleaned up and made sure everything was where it should be.
“Door’s fine to open!” he said, stepping back a bit. A few moments later, a short man in a lab coat, goggles, and with bouncy blond – natural looking – came bounding up the stairs. He entered dramatically, hanging onto the door with a controlled sagging.
“Oh my goodness,” he said, gasping for air he surely didn’t need. “I was about to die!” he swivelled around and shook one of Xisuma’s hands with both of his. “Thank you, thank you! And the name of my hero is…”
“Xisuma Voide,” he said with an amused smile. “I will say that the lock will need to be replaced – and I can’t do that right this moment because I just brought the bare necessities for this job.”
Zed waved his concern away and strode over to the table, where he picked up someone else’s mug of tea and downed it. Blonde squawked in outrage and let his chair thud back on the floor. “Are you available tomorrow?” he asked, shifting to sit on the kitchen table.
Xisuma pulled up his phone, making a point to check his calender. There was nothing on there, and he knew it. “Yeah, I can do tomorrow,” he said. “What time works best for you?”
They negotiated the times – apparently all of them being busy simultaneously but also theoretically could be free, but there was this-and-that. Eventually, though, they managed to settle on 15:30, when Zed himself would be in. It was really not at all the more detailed process Xisuma preferred, but it was getting him money, so he found that he could not be bothered to care.
It was suspiciously easy for the deal to be struck, and for Xisuma to be on his way. Impulse barely even flinched at the amount Xisuma quoted him for (less, admittedly, than he probably should have), and even offered to make a pre-payment for the lock fitting the next day, which Xisuma emphatically declined. He was lucky to get this job, let alone another one right after it. All four of them sped to the door to wave him off, and he couldn’t help but laugh at them squished in the doorway together.
The cat was still in the window of the bungalow as he drove past. It reminded him of the watched feeling he’d experienced earlier, the prickle on the back of his neck that returned as he circled around the grassy area, and trundled away from Hermit Cove.
…
THE HERMITS
ZedaphPlays: GUYS I’VE LOCKED MYSELF IN THE LAB
TangoTek: HAHAHAHAAAHAHA
Zedaph Plays: LOCK BROKE, SOS
Docm77: Can’t Impulse just break the door down?
ZedaphPlays: NO HE ABSOLUTELY CAN NOT DO THAT
TangoTek: gold, absolute gold
Docm77: I think you underestimate his skill and strength
ZedaphPlays: I THINK HE CAN DO IT, BUT I DO NOT WANT HIM TO
SmallishBeans: oh my god what is even happening
SmallishBeans: Lizzie says to “just pow pow until the door is down”
ZedaphPlays: THERE WILL BE NO POW POW
ImpulseSV: can’t i just have a nice day
ImpulseSV: get home from work, have it be peaceful
ZedaphPlays: No
TangoTek: no
Skizzleman: Absolutely not dippledop
ImpulseSV: I’ll call a locksmith I guess?
ZedaphPlays: I’LL OWE YOU ONE
ImpulseSV: I don’t think I want that, thank you
ZedaphPlays: OI