[image description: a cover image for the project, titled:
Universal Constants
Episode 1: First Blood

on the cover image itself is a desk covered in different objects, split between two colors. red objects include: a strange, railway track-like weapon, a split heart pin, and a photo of abstract shapes that while hard to parse, resemble an eye. green objects include: a surgeon's scalpel, a folder with a strange heart insignia, and a photo of 3 anthro cat children, doing their best to support each other in a nervous embrace. a lime green image exists as well, underneath the other objects- a photo of a canine shadow, featuring frightening teeth and a pearl necklace.]



content warnings for this project can be found here, for both overarching themes and individual episodes.





[image description: a reddish brown canine furry takes up most of the frame, sitting down in a waiting room chair. his black hair is covering most of his face in a curly mess. large, round glasses obscure his eyes, and his expression is calm and stoic- a singular canine fang sticking out of his mouth. he's wearing a red turtleneck sweater, maroon high waisted pants, and a reddish purple cape with a holographic, starry print. there's pins on his shoulder, where the cape hangs off of his body- a no-entry sign and a heart split down the middle.

the room itself is simple in what we can see in-frame, a door off to the side with a distinctly alien handle compared to what we have on earth- with a smaller upper grip laid horizontally, and a much larger lower grip angled vertically. there is alien writing on the door's sign, indicating who works there, and arrow-like patterning on the door's surface.

color-wise, the room is a rather sterile white and gray, made to feel warmer by the piece's overall cozy lighting. shiny particles hover around the dog's cape, leading to a dream-like feel.]

Charon rubs his fingers against the edges of the folder in his lap, his documents kept nice and neat inside. He'd be meeting up with the head honcho of the Menagerie, a facility staple on this continent for its medical importance. A renovation job for someone with a very specific skillset, that's what the guild explained when he took a look at the contract.

The waiting room is clean, almost too clean to be inviting- the entire facility felt clinical and cold, and this area is no different. The only audible noise is the hum of the lights up above him and the unintelligible discussion in the office ahead. No one else is left, all other people having gone through the office before him, and a sense of unease begins to settle in.

He tries to see if he can get any sort of sound or look at whatever was going on inside, just to know what he's exactly about to deal with. This lab had many stories behind it, stories that spread and snowballed into the thing of myth and fables. He couldn't say his family would approve of him taking a job with the reputation the previous owner had, but he was assured things were... mostly different.

As if to confirm his worries, the voices inside escalate in volume, someone bursting out of the door and scrambling to get out of there as quickly as possible. The dog tries not to mind it too much, probably just an anomaly. At the very least it means that he’s about to be called up.

He gets to his feet and gets a quick stretch in...he'd been in that lobby too long. His whole body starts clanking and clattering as he does so, a mix of his metal limbs and his fluffy tail, adorned with porcelain plates, making a racket.

Charon shuffles over into the next room as quickly as possible.

The office is tidy, everything clearly having its own place- though a little sparse, with no decorations or knick knacks to be found anywhere. The karacel at the desk sits with straight posture, her hands clasped in front of her and a stoic expression on her face. Her brown fur contrasts with her green accents on her nose, ear tufts, and eyelids- the latter currently half lidded over what looked to be black prosthetic eyes. It’s an exasperated expression on her face, barely turning to acknowledge him in her exhaustion.

The dog creeps on over to his chair.

She doesn't react much, keeping her posture steady.

He slides over a file.

She seems a little impressed at the touch script inclusion, opening up the folder with care.

She grimaces, just enough to be noticed.

Her grimace worsens.

She runs her hand over the first paper, taking a proper look. The resume itself features a mention of involvement in a relatively well known investigation involving sensitives, users of scraps, those who can supposedly connect to spirits and remnants….

Maes’ frown twitches.

She continues reading, her brows just the slightest bit raised now.

It comes out cold- possibly more than she intended, by the look on her face- and she hurriedly gets back to her reading.

She flashes the slightest bit of teeth as she says it. Charon just barely catches a glimpse, his heart rate speeding up and a little intake of breath at the sight of it.

Shit.

Maes pauses, ear twitching almost too subtly to be seen.

Shit, she noticed.


She reads more of his file, but there’s something about the way she speaks that makes Charon feel…scrutinized.

She makes sure to almost snarl the last word.

Charon focuses- he’s grateful to be blessed with the ability to gauge subtle elements and emotions, an aspect of his family line. He tries to see what he can find in Maes, nervous about what he might find.



[image description: a dutch angle shot over charon's caped shoulder, showing maes at her desk. her face looks tired, but  has a difficult to discern intent. she's a brown-furred cat furry with large, horizontally positioned ears tipped in green tufts, long, fluffy black hair, and an hourglass build. her outfit is a black tight dress with green accents, featuring sleeves with cutouts at the shoulder and a much looser green scarf. her prosthetic eyes are portrayed as black filled in shapes, her eyelids green and half lidded over them. maes' posture is upright, and it's clear she means business. even with all of the gravity of her pose and expression, the atmosphere of the image and textures on maes are warm, as if charon's emotions are tinting the situation.  on the desk, charon's folder sits.]


She’s curious, testing him. Something about him’s off, and she can't quite place it yet...and more than anything, she wants to see more. She flashes her teeth quickly as she exhales, too fast to be read as intentional...to anyone but him.

Charon’s tail flicks in a half-wag, anything but a fear response- the porcelain plates on it clattering just loud enough to be audible.

The karacel in front of him’s ear twitches again, but she continues.

She drums her claws on the desk, her expression purposefully flat- as if she’s trying to hold a straight face and not let anything slip.

A soft noise of her own escapes, barely perceptible.

Charon’s ears perk up.

She tries to veer things back on course.

That was clearly not all.

She keeps her voice even.

She flips to the next page, studying its contents.

Even with her attempts to remain straight-faced, her teeth seem to show more and more when she talks, or at the very least, Charon’s attention keeps getting drawn more and more to them.

The dog tries his best not to make a sound but he’s fidgeting more than a little, and audibly, in no small part due to the damn porcelain.

She closes his file, sliding it across the table.

The dog takes his file back.

She rests her hands in her lap, clearly trying to ignore how tense the room had become.

The dog leans forward in his chair.

She leans in just as much, without realizing.

 
She sits up straight once more, trying to get back to her professional posture from earlier.

The dog gets to his feet and brushes himself off.

She keeps her tone clinical, the slightest bit of blush crossing her cheeks.

He raises a brow in response.

He makes his way toward the hall quickly. Maes gets up to shut the door behind him just as fast, sliding back against the door.

Charon leans against the waiting room wall, trying to catch his breath. She caught onto him, hopefully that doesn't deduct.

He can't help but worry that this is all a setup to catch him screwing up. That was too tense for his own good.

He’s a little tempted to take her offer to use the restroom. Fuck. Not right now.

He takes the time to breathe deeply and relax himself. Whatever just went on during that interview was more than he was expecting.  Nothing that can't be managed though...hopefully.

[image description: synna, a warm brown marsupial furry with floppy ears, stands in front of charon, a few feet shorter than him. she has darker markings on her muzzle and ears, wiry fluff for her hair and neck ruff, and a casual expression. her outfit is simple yet sporty- a pair of blue and white athletic shorts and a yellow and blue crop top revealing the top edge of a belly pouch. her eyes are a reddish pink, and have no pupils.

charon looks curious, but not sure what to make of this new figure. he has cute dot-styled eyes again, adding to the friendly-yet-cautious vibe of the scene.]

This is taking forever, and Synna feels like she’s about to go nuts from the waiting. She’d organized the files on her desktop already, watched a few episodes of her favorite cartoon, browsed the news at least three times over by now, and nobody had bothered to knock on the door or call her up. She shouldn’t have even taken a day off for this, but noooo, she wanted to make sure that Maes had someone on standby in case someone actually passed her ridiculous interviews. How many people even applied for this job? She had made it sound as scary as possible in order to weed out people who couldn’t hack it, but she wouldn’t be surprised if people tried to go for it anyway, with the kind of pay and housing the lab was offering.

Synna flops back into her chair, exhaling hard. When is Maes going to be done grilling people? She just wants to get it over with and hear the inevitable "no, they all sucked, why would you put me up to this Synna, I'm mad now."

Before she can get comfortable, there’s a knock on the door.  She nearly falls out of her chair, completely startled as she scrambles to her feet.

She opens the door, only to reveal a dog she doesn’t recognize in the office doorway.

She looks up at him with a squint.

She stares at him for a moment before peeking around the doorway.

She tries to correct her tone mid sentence, snapping back upright.

She opens the door and gestures for him to step inside.

He walks into the office, taking a look around as subtly as he can.

Her office is smaller than Maes' by a significant amount, stacks of folders, drink mugs, strange chunks of electronics, and CD cases piled up everywhere. The only chair available for him to sit in looks kind of rickety, swiveling around as Synna turns it to face him.

He scoots into the chair and pulls out a couple of folders from his coat. Synna flops into her own chair, doing a lazy little spin before leaning forward onto her desk.

Charon slides them onto the desk.

She picks up the first one carefully, flicking through the papers there.

She sighs in relief.

She can’t help but grin.

She goes for the next folder, skimming this one even faster.

She raises a brow.

She holds her hands up.

She shrugs, setting his folders down and getting up.

The dog follows suit.

She chooses to ignore the flight comment, clearly not wanting to open that can of worms. Charon can tell that she thinks he's weird enough as is.

She pats her own left leg, showing off its pink prosthetic material. It's sturdy, and from what Charon can make out- impeccably well made.

She glances over at his hands.

She leads him over to what appeared to be the entrance to the trams, passing by some lab coated staff.

She taps her ID at a turnstyle, tapping a button on her way through.

Charon does his best to keep up the pace.

She smirks as she takes her seat, a distinct trace of bitterness to it.

The dog ponders this info for a moment.

Synna pats him on the back, getting up off of the tram seat.

Charon follows along, getting up from his own seat.

Someone passes by with a rather mutated looking person on a gurney.

The dog manages a tiny smile at that, full of a subtle warmth.

The adjacent area is full of people running around, people carrying clipboards, folders and trolleys.

Synna leans against the heavy metal door, thunking it with her knuckles.

She shrugs.

She steps forward and unlocks the door, tapping the number on the door plate.

She opens the door up, stepping in with a goofy grand gesture. The apartment itself is simple but tidy, with a fairly large bed, kitchenette, television with a couch and armchair setup, and presumably a bathroom door to the side. It isn't fancy or anything, but it’s spacious for a studio setup.

He sits himself down on the bed, getting a feel for it.

She starts heading towards the door, looking over her shoulder.

She shoots a finger gun at him before heading out.

With that, she closes the door and leaves him to his own devices. Charon lays himself down on the bed, soaking it all in.

Charon lets out a yawn.

The neuroth sighs, massaging her temple.

She taps a pen against the desk, keeping her eyes trained on him.

The going-on-elderly looking selected, having just introduced themself as “Hashbrown”, rifles through some boxes and cabinets, pulling out some gear and setting it on the table in front of Charon.

The dog leans in to take a look closely at the equipment.

The snake points to a small box, featuring a few buttons and switches on its side. It’s nondescript, with no writing or decoration on it aside from a single green rim on the sides.

They move onto the next piece, a palm sized orb with a flat bottom. The selected picks it up to reveal an inset button underneath, pointing to it with a serious expression.

They hold up a long, metal rod with a ring orbiting the end.

The dog rolls up his sleeve, fully exposing a gauntlet layered over a prosthetic brace. As he moves his fingers ever-so slightly, there’s a visible electric crackle between them, ready to shock.

They hold up the stick again, this time with feeling.

They laugh as they give him a stiff pat on the back, no humor in it.

The construct that stands before Charon is broad and imposing, and completely made of shining, well cared for metal. He extends a clawed hand.

Both of them reach out and shake hands firmly, each feeling the other's metallic grip.

He keeps his grip on Charon's hand.

He lets Charon's hand go, leading him forward.

Charon shrugs.

JB puts his face in his hand, rubbing his beak.

The dog shuffles it deep into his cloak.

The construct sighs, trying to get back on track.

JB takes a seat at a table, gesturing for the dog to join him.

The dog follows suit and scoots into the chair.

His head sways from side to side slightly, thinking with a bird-like movement to him.

JB’s tone is completely serious, if not outright grave.

JB gestures to himself.

The sound of boots on tile starts echoing down the hall, someone approaching.

The dog adjusts his posture, making sure to fix anything that looks out of line on his person. JB tries not to snicker a little, but does his best to sit up straight all the same.

The director is wearing a thick, horror-proof, hazmat-like suit, mask tucked under one arm and a white cane in the other. A sword sheath lays across her back, thin but distinctly recognizable. She keeps her posture straight, moving straight ahead without stopping to acknowledge either of them much.

Her voice doesn't sound too impressed, but lacks any sort of coldness, at the very least.

The dog stands up from his chair.

JB gets up from his own seat, pushing his chair in.

Maes bristles at JB's interruption, but doesn't protest.

[image description: ruby, a karacel with folded ears, stands in between two other karacels while wearing a doctor's outfit and a surgical mask. they have long dark hair, blue-gray fur, and tired eyes. one of the karacels near them has particularly large eyes, and the other towers over them.]

Entering the elevator for the lower levels has a sense of dread to it, something incredibly off about the air around the group as the lift begins to move. Charon grips the railings on the wall with a sense of anticipation- there'd been rumors and stories around the lab and the cleanup effort seemed like it was about to dabble into the leftovers of some of that.
The feeling only intensifies as they get deeper into the lab's underground, until the elevator finally comes to a rest.

Maes is the first to step out, her mask strapped to her side.

Her tone is curt, clearly not willing to elaborate as she walks ahead. Charon follows along.

JB tries to keep his own tone a bit more upbeat, though there’s a bit of morbidity to it.

JB trails off, noticing Maes' tail lash in irritation. The director pushes open the door ahead of them, the sign above reading "STASIS" in worn down font.

The dog gives a grunt of acknowledgement in response, watching how the other two react carefully for any cues.

The pair lead him forward, the first hall having only a few people lingering outside- two visibly mutated karacels in simple, casual wear and what seems to be a nurse, judging by the uniform- also a karacel. The nurse is tending to one of the karacel's legs, the cat in question sniffling and wiping their large eyes as their caretaker bandages a scrape. The other karacel looks like he didn't know what to do with himself, his expression turning guilty as he notices the newcomers entering the hall. All three of the cats are definitely adults, though the one who got scraped up definitely seems to be on the younger end of that.

JB leans over and whispers in Charon's ear.

JB makes a shaky hand gesture as they approach.

The nurse's ear twitches, turning to face the group. Their face is partially hidden under a surgical mask, but their eyes can be clearly seen, and incredibly tired ones at that.

Charon stands by quietly, watching to see what’s going on. Maes goes to open her mouth and speak, but the nurse brushes right past her.

She bristles as the other cat peers around at Charon, leaning in to get a good look at him.

Charon holds out a hand.

Any recognition towards the word "knight" that the other employees had is completely missing in the nurse, Ruby mostly nodding out of courtesy as she shakes his hand.

They turn and gesture at the two residents trying to sneak off.

Maes cuts in.

Their frown can be felt from behind their mask.

From the somehow even more tired look on Ruby's face, someone had definitely discovered the chair. Charon holds back a laugh.

Ruby glances over at Maes, seeing her tail lash in irritation again. They gesture for the group to start walking down the hall, giving Amanda and Ruffles a quick pat on their way by.

They pass by another karacel resident, this one having to be in her late 30's- and looking far, far more fragile than someone in that age range should be.

Charon watches quietly, not wanting to interrupt any routines. Once they pass by, Ruby continues on.

Maes is gripping her cane noticeably tighter at this point in Ruby’s monologue, her frown deepening. Charon quickly takes notice, trying to save the mood.

Their tone is upbeat despite the almost passive aggressive wording. Charon doesn't put in another word.

Maes is practically gritting her teeth.

The nurse unlocks a door and ducks in for a moment, bringing out two clipboards with note sheets and writing utensils attached-  one set up for touch script, and the other with a standard pencil- before handing them to Maes and Charon respectively.

[image description: charon glancing back at the camera, his no-entry sign pupil looking particularly freaked as he's face to face with a grimy, tiled cell- with a pile of cardboard in the corner, covered in feline teeth.]

Charon turns toward Maes.

She starts walking ahead, only to stop herself with a huff.

He starts walking up ahead.

She grumbles, tail still twitching in agitation.

He turns a corner, careful not to go too far ahead. Her ears perks up slightly, her pace quickening as she’s able to keep closer to his side.

She steps forward, pulling a clearance card out of her pocket and opening the first cell.

The interior is clean for the most part, some dull, near completely faded stains on the far wall.

Charon takes a thorough look around, finding nothing of importance.

The next cell, unfortunately, has the distinct presence of feline teeth piled up in the corner, almost as if someone had hoarded them there.

Maes doesn't seem concerned in the slightest, letting her cane hang from her wrist strap while tapping her stylus against the corner of her clipboard.

He walks on over and took a closer look. There have to be at least a mouth and a half's worth of teeth over there, and they’re definitely bigger than normal- and while still looking grimy, they’re meticulously piled, consciously so.

She takes down her notes, thinking it over.

The next cell is completely clean, not a stain on it.

The one after, however, has scratch marks all along the walls, deep and left behind by something far larger than either of them.

She walks forward and traces her hands along them, feeling the grooves.

Maes leaves him hanging in the moment, but his question is answered soon enough.

The next cell has an unidentifiable red mass growing from the ceiling, dripping an equally distressing liquid into a large pool on the floor.

Charon steps back, letting her take the lead here. Maes reaches up with her cane, giving it a poke. The mass doesn't budge, only dripping a bit more fluid. The karacel makes a face, her muzzle crumpling up slightly under her mask.

The next cell has another mass, this time hunched in the corner, and distinctly more person-like. Maes steps inside and takes a moment to tap it with her cane before sighing, letting him by.

She makes a distinct growl of irritation, tail flicking from side to side.

She gives it another test poke with her cane, getting no response.

She tilts her head towards him slightly, her tone cold.

Thankfully, the next cell is clean.

She raises her brows a bit, keeping her voice even.

Maes thinks it over for a moment.

She drums her claws on her cane, starting off towards the next cell.

From the look on her face, it’s almost as if she’s reassuring herself of it too.

[image description: maes' gloved hand aggressively pointing at ruby, the nurse pulling away slightly. there is a warm tone to the image, though in a way that looks almost sickly.]

The rest of the cells are fairly easy to manage, aside from one other far down the hall having another flesh mass (much to Maes' irritation). Many of them are definitely in disrepair, stained with old blood, unknown substances or scratched along the walls and floors, but aside from the corpse, they all seem workable.

She sighs, looking stressed already.

Maes does not elaborate.

The two of them approach Ruby's office, the nurse talking with an older resident. They turn to face them as soon as they wrap up, ears perked.

He looks toward Maes.

Her ear twitches at the term "boss", but she makes no further comment as she hands over her notes.

They reach over to take Charon's notes as well, looking them over.

Charon passes them over, everything numbered and written down neatly.

They nod, checking everything.

Maes makes an irritated sound under her breath, but Ruby seems plenty pleased.

They start coughing a bit, covering their mouth with their elbow even despite the cloth mask already doing the job.

Maes grits her teeth. Ruby pays it no mind, looking just as chipper.

Before Ruby could get another word out, a siren starts blaring, Maes crumpling over and covering her ears. Ruby practically flings the clipboards into their office, running for their keycards.

Charon sticks with Maes, going to help her up.

Maes struggles to her feet as she adjusts to the sound, fur on end.

[image description: a cover for the third episode of universal constants: Foxtrot Horrorshow. a horror glares down maes in a horror-proof radiation suit, the visor covered in a horror radiation warning sign. the visuals of the cover are distorted and discordant.]



[image description: maes, charon, and ruby racing down a hall, maes' visor covered with a horror radiation hazard sign as she touches the wall and grips a half-collapsed cane. charon follows behind, and ruby takes the lead.]


Charon starts sliding his cloak off his shoulders, offering out toward Maes to help her muffle out the overstimulation of the sirens screaming.

Maes starts collapsing her cane without much acknowledgement for the dog- or dignity for that matter. The noise is clearly taking its toll quickly, the karacel’s face scrunched up and grimacing as she settles for halfway closed with a huff. Charon tosses his cape back on as the two of them prep to get moving- there’s no denying the urgency. Ruby seemed to be on the same train of thought; a large firearm in one hand and keycards in the other, quickly stuffed into their coat pockets as they leave their office. With Ruby giving a gesture, the three get moving together.

Maes manages to snarl her words out over the din of the sirens, her voice slightly distorted through the mask's filter.

A massive metal door slams behind them as they run, just narrowly missing them. Ruby tries not to wheeze as they talk, having more than a bit of trouble with their cough.

Charon does his best to maintain a sprint, struggling with the stiffness of his heavy braces more than he’d like. Maes keeps to his side, keeping a hold on his arm and not straying too far from him.

Ruby skids to a stop, opening up the door to a room at the end of the hall and scaring the large construct inside shitless.

Maes steps forward, her expression visibly strained even through the now-fogged up mask’s glow.

Ruby starts to duck out as JB talks, not bothering to say goodbye in the chaos.

She practically growls the words out, getting an affirmative nod from the construct.

With that, the two are sent down the hall, the alarm bells finally silenced and replaced with a sinking dread.

Charon fiddles with his gauntlets in anticipation for what's to come.

Maes unsheathes the sword on her back and expands her cane, holding each in a hand.

She starts walking, gesturing for the knight to lead her.

The rest of their walk is silent.

A deafening crash comes from up ahead, Maes freezing in her tracks and collapsing her cane as quietly as possible. She moves quickly but with very little sound as she attaches the aid to her hip, the cane snapping onto the belt found there.

Charon takes the lead.




[image description: an image of a morbitian horror hanging from the corner of a room, made up of pitch black, amorphous tendrils. it has one scribbly eye and what appears to be an open maw. the background is made up of of a collage of text files.]

The chamber ahead is decently open spaced, long-since empty glass tubes lining the wall. Judging from the thickness of the material, they aren't meant to hold standard substances.

The most notable feature of the room, however, is a spindly, many-legged horror, impossibly dark and stretching itself along the walls. It has to be around eight feet tall, and seems to be occupied in fussing with hanging wires.

Charon keeps his voice somewhat low.

The two of them have some distance between their position and the wall sporting the horror, who appears content to tug and tear at the electrical cables hanging loose.

Maes nods.  

Charon walks up to it very slowly, keeping enough distance just enough to safely duck out should its attention be drawn toward him.

The horror doesn't turn, but some of the bristles on its back seem to change its silhouette ever so slightly- possibly just enough to be a trick of the eye.

After all, it’s still messing with cables, tilting its head and nipping at them, only to hiss when it gets shocked.

Maes gets into a fighting stance, holding her sword at the ready.

Charon lets out a sudden crackling noise from his gauntlet to try and call its attention. The bristles on the horror’s back spike out, the creature tilting its head all the way around to face him with a low hiss.

He starts pacing backward, continuing to let the gauntlet spark. The horror focuses its attention on the sparks, starting to move its many legs off of the wall and stretching them down onto the floor, approaching curiously.

Charon stops at a midpoint, away from the wall and close enough for Maes to be able to engage with it the moment he makes the call. The horror cranes its neck in closer, seeming to extend beyond what length it looked to be earlier- it looks like it wants the sparks, filled with the same attention it had to the wires.

Charon reaches out toward it with an electrified gauntlet.

The horror opens its mouth just slightly, not going in for a bite so much as a slight nip.

He discharges the gauntlet as it gets in proximity, a very quick, close-ranged jolt. Maes takes the opportunity to charge forward as the horror reels back with a shriek.

[image description: an action panel of maes and charon facing off against the horror, faint code text overlaid on top as an accent. charon is standing and ready to fight, while maes stands stanced with her sword- blunted at the tip. a strange, metal plated figure stands behind charon, the plates themselves like a dress. its head is an abstract shape, barely visible in frame. the horror has chunks of ice piercing through its head, a lance sticking out.]



Charon steps to the side, quick to yell orders.

Even with the irritation, she follow directions immediately, gritting her teeth and getting the most efficient strike in she cans.

It isn't nearly enough to hit the slime beast for lethal, the creature swinging in a confused scramble.

It's sudden, but Charon swore he can see Maes bend...almost unnaturally, cartoonishly, as she ducks, quick on her feet.

As if there's no spine to worry about.

It doesn't really matter too much in the moment, as long as she's safe... Right now the two of them needed space. As much as Maes wouldn't like it, a bit of magic was needed right now.

A lift of his cape manifests a large, metal plated knight- zero hesitation as it slams into the horror with a thundering crash.

Maes skitters backwards, ears back and breathing hard.

A second crash, the phantom knight pressing its weight down against the creature, taking a moment to pierce it with a lance- much to the horror's dismay. The beast howls, echoing and horrible, as the area around the wound crystalizes into ice.

She almost seems to roar as she charges in.

The towering knight throws the horror onto the ground.

Her strike is brutal, slicing deep into the horror with a terrifying amount of force.

Charon joined in, pummeling the creature to limit its ability to strike back. Loose tendrils begin to flail around in response, at risk of belting anyone too close.

Maes narrowly dodges getting hit by one, slashing away at the tendril and risking another critical strike.

The risk of Maes getting struck is too clear- the tendrils picking up pace as the creature's form became less distinct. The knight takes matters into its own hands and jumps in front of the cat.

She pulls back with a loud hiss, fur puffing up under her suit- clearly jostled from his voice not matching up with what was in front of her.

The knight takes the full brunt of the horror's attacks, using the opportunity to tire the horror by trading blows.

Charon whips out a large metal weapon out of his cloak- seemingly from nowhere at all- and makes his way over, close to the cat's shoulder.

She seems to take a moment to breathe at that, a little bit of the edge taken off...but not much.

The dog gestures to the knight, already in the middle of repositioning the horror, looking more than ready to end this.

Charon makes a quick swing with the weapon's blunt end,  deflecting every tendril to create a opening.

Maes gets to her feet with a deep inhale, taking the chance and nailing it right in the front of its skull, piercing deep-

-causing the horror to cry out in agony, a terrible, miserable sound.

Charon can't help but wince at that. The horror too large to kill in a single clean swing.

She can't help but snarl at the beast, slicing clean through and splattering pitch black slime all over the three of them.




The ghost knight dissipates quickly, its job done. Charon waves his hand, torching the mess off of himself as if it was never there at all.

Maes stands there, trying to catch her breath.





It's a moment before she speaks.

Another deep exhale, shaky.

She looks like she's about to pop a gasket.

Maes presses her masked face into her hand.

The dog reaches over to the now limp ooze, pulling his lance out of the melting frost.  

Her whole face scrunches up, trying to process this.

Charon's at a loss for words.

The knight had reappeared discreetly enough for neither of them to notice.

Maes freezes.

She turns to face the knight, ears still somewhat back.

The knight does so.

She reaches out, flinching as she makes contact.

That seems to hit, her expression losing some of its severity.

She is quiet, scrunching her eyes shut before letting out a long, exasperated sigh.

[image description: maes, charon, and the bizarre geometric knight charon had summoned in battle- all sitting in an office, and all looking varying degrees of tense.]

Maes' office was the same place as it was before...though feeling more intimidating with every step. Most people in this part of the facility had gone home by now or retired to their own rooms to handle paperwork, leading the halls to feel far more empty than they had been with his interview.

It isn't too long until he reached the door. He'd made sure to clean himself off thoroughly in advance, anything less- is likely asking to be grilled.

He gave three knocks on the door, polite but audible.

Her response is immediate, cutting.

Charon makes his way in, door closing just as quick as he opened it.

She's back in the same outfit in he had seen her wear during the interview, albeit more hunched over than expected- her posture no longer straight and rigid.

She sighs.

He follows along, getting situated.

She takes a deep breath.

She leans back.

She nods, taking a moment to process.

She shakes her head.

Mar appears without making a single noise other than her voice.

Maes does her best not to look startled, claws still digging into the desk a bit.

The dog clears his throat.

The dog and knight mumble amongst themselves.

Mar turns toward Maes.

She raises an eyebrow.

She clearly tries to hide her sudden intrigue, covering her muzzle with a hand.

She continues to think in silence, taking a good few awkward moments before speaking up.

She seems a bit taken aback at the firmness in his voice, but does not protest.

There's something in her voice that seemed...regretful, even if only for a moment.

She turns away, a little bit. Thinking it over, unsure what to say.

She takes a moment.

Maes raises a brow.

She nods, her expression almost...amused.

Mar turns her attention toward the dog.

The tiniest smirk.

[image description: a close up of maes' tail brushing past Mar and Charon flirtatiously, both of them flustered by the action- mar's abstract head splitting in a tiny, cracked smile, and a small view of charon's ears shaking. the piece has sparkling, dream-like accents, and a warm palette.]

Mar nods.

The dog ponders it for a moment.

The dog smirks.

The proxy makes a flustered noise at the dog's question.

The smugness in his voice is thick.

The metal knight responds with another little surprised noise.

Maes lets out a soft exhale.

She raises her brows.

She turns to Charon.

The proxy takes a good look at the smug dog.

Charon's smirk makes its way into his cadence.

The proxy can't help but "smile" to herself, a little pleased crack in her face showing as Charon nudges her shoulder.

Maes gives Charon a pointed look.

A slight tinge of blush on her cheeks.

The proxy gives a little noise of acknowledgment.

It takes her a second to think it over.

Her ears perk up before she can stop them.

Her ears flop back down as quickly as they went up.

She admittedly looks a bit uncomfortable, her posture slumping.

A small smile creeps onto her face, if only for a moment.

He can't hide the satisfaction in his voice.

The dog's ears perk up at that.

Charon looks over at his proxy.

She sits there, completely stunned.

The proxy scoots back, giving the dog room to speak.

She pulls out a piece of paper and a stylus, beginning to press in some script- before handing it to Charon.

He takes a good look at it-

It's very clearly a phone number.

The dog smiles to himself a little.

The karacel rises to her feet, going around the desk and walking by the two of them-

-brushing her tail against both of them, the flirtatious nature of it completely unmistakable.

Even so, her tone remains calm, flat.