[PCA] UNIVERSAL CONSTANTS

[skinstealer]

[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.

 
????: Next.
 

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.

 
????: Sit.
 

The dog creeps on over to his chair.

 
CHARON: I take it you're in charge?
????: You'd be correct.

 

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

 
 
????: Maes Artag, I run this facility and act as its head surgeon.
CHARON: Mm. I'm here for the job regarding renovation of the lab, you certainly have some... interesting requisites for it.
MAES: You're the contractor that Synna wants me to hire, then.
CHARON: Mmhmm. I'm not entirely sure why you need a knight for this but I take it you have bigger issues than roaches in the basement.
MAES: You could say that.
MAES: Synna says that your resume holds up well, but I wanted to see it myself.
MAES: You see, Mr...?
CHARON: Judgment.

 

He slides over a file.

 

CHARON: All my documents are in there... I heard that touch script copies were ideal in this office, so I brought those too.
MAES: ...Thank you.
 
 

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

 
MAES: You see, Mr. Judgment, I have immensely high standards for the kind of work we do here at this lab, and your work will be especially difficult.
CHARON: I've been through the worst work of my career, it's all uphill from here.
MAES: I highly doubt that.
 

She grimaces, just enough to be noticed.

 
MAES: What kind of job do you think this is, from the requirements and briefing alone?
CHARON: I'd say you want me to dip my toes into hell and clean up some old regrets.
MAES: Regrets?
CHARON: Failed projects that need more than a mop and a dustpan to get rid of.
MAES: And what gives you that impression?
CHARON: The application mentioned the job requires an immunity or heavy resistance to horror and experience in security.
MAES: Facilities are built on horror vents all the time, any kind of building can be- especially in this area.
MAES: What makes you think there's regrets involved?
CHARON: Because this lab has a bit of a reputation, one that uttering it may be distressful to any staff within ear shot.
MAES: Mm.

 

Her grimace worsens.

MAES: Go on.
CHARON: This lab built too far into a horror vent, farther than most are willing to go.
CHARON: Now you need someone who can deal with them when they eventually leak and give trouble to your construction crew... and off the record, the stories around this place make it plausible those vents were used for more than basements.
MAES: Every major facility has stories around it. Do you believe these?
CHARON: I'm prepared for the worst should any of it be true, but I rather they be exaggerations.
MAES: The reasons why the underground needs renovations do not concern you. Getting the job done and done effectively does.
CHARON: I do need to be aware of all safety hazards that may come out of this. I don't want to have anyone injured on my watch, if I'm frank.
MAES: The only people who will join you in the cleanup are people who are similarly equipped.
MAES: I don't risk lives if I can help it, Judgment.
CHARON: That's good to hear, I'd refuse if I heard anything otherwise.
 
 

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.

 
CHARON: Is... something wrong?
MAES: You believe in magic.
CHARON: Pardon?
MAES: It says here you've worked with...spirits.
CHARON: I've worked with sensitives in the past, yes.
MAES: And you believe in it.
CHARON: Is there an issue here?
MAES: We'll see.

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

 
CHARON: It should not impact my ability to work if you are worried.
MAES: It better not.
CHARON: It won't.
MAES: I suppose I'll have to take your word for it.
 
 

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

 
MAES: Are there any other problems I should worry about, Judgment?
CHARON: Define problems.
MAES: I simply don't want to hear that you're looking for ghosts in our underground levels.
MAES: It concerns me.

 

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.

 
CHARON: I don't plan to.

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.

 
MAES: You seem tense, Judgment.
MAES: Do I have to worry about you cracking under pressure?
 

She makes sure to almost snarl the last word.

CHARON: Please, an interview doesn't scare me.

 

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.

 
MAES: Your file...says you boast exceptional pain tolerance.
CHARON: It's the peak threshold for any non-synthetic being.
MAES: And how has this been tested? I assume to know such a thing, you'd have to have survived some incidents.
CHARON: I've endured electrocution and varying slash and bite based injuries without passing out, screaming, or going into shock. It's in my medical records.

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.

MAES: That...should come in handy.

 

She tries to veer things back on course.

MAES: Such durability will hopefully be unneeded, but it's definitely interes- a perk.
CHARON: A perk?
MAES: It's better that you're more well prepared, that's all.

 

That was clearly not all.

CHARON: Prepared for what exactly if I may ask?
MAES: It's an old lab, many parts of it untouched for over a decade- like I mentioned prior, I refuse to send anyone down there that isn't ready for the potential risks.

 

She keeps her voice even.

CHARON: I'm more than prepared for something like this, I'm not too worried.
MAES: I suppose that makes up for the occult interest, then...
 

She flips to the next page, studying its contents.

MAES: It also says you have an expertise in old technology. Am I to expect difficulty with operating modern equipment?

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.

CHARON: I should be absolutely fine with modern equipment, and anything I'm not familiar with can be explained with ease.

 

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.

MAES: Is something the matter, Judgment?
CHARON: Nothing, why do you ask?
MAES: Nothing.
MAES: Perhaps I'm just reading you wrong.
 

She closes his file, sliding it across the table.

MAES: You're coming off rather...agitated.
CHARON: I've been sitting quite a bit today, so it's a little difficult.  
 

The dog takes his file back.

MAES: You seem like a fit for the job, at least... though we'll have to see how you perform.
MAES: I have big expectations for you, Judgment.
 

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

MAES: And quite the first impression.
CHARON: Oh?
 

The dog leans forward in his chair.

CHARON: I'd assume they're quite good ones based on what you've read for the most part.
MAES: We'll see if you live up to your records.
 

She leans in just as much, without realizing.

 
MAES: Don't get cocky before you've even had a chance to show what you can do.
CHARON: I don't underperform, I have too much reputation at stake.
MAES: So you've told me.

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

 
MAES: You should go discuss lodging and your duties with Synna, she's a few departments down.
MAES: I'm sure she can get you up to speed on how we do things here.
CHARON: Mm, room number?

 

The dog gets to his feet and brushes himself off.

 
CHARON: I'm not familiar with this place so I need a point of reference.
MAES: 173. It'll have her name on the door. Oh, and, Judgment?
CHARON: Yes?
MAES: There's a single occupancy restroom just outside the waiting room.
MAES: I would personally recommend you...compose yourself, before meeting with Synna.

 

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

 
CHARON: Excuse me?

 

He raises a brow in response.

 
MAES: Just a suggestion...I have work to get back to.
CHARON: I think I'll manage fine. Thank you for your time.
MAES: Don't fail me, Judgment.
CHARON: I do not plan to.


 

[image description: a close up shot of charon leaning against the wall, his expression tense and strained. he's sweating and gritting his teeth as he attempts to calm down. his glasses are fogged up to the point of just barely showing his red eyes- portrayed in a cute cartoony style in this panel. he's holding his cape around himself, almost protectively.
around him float little red sparkles, as if he's still in a daze.]

 

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.