The doctor is in.

[Thalron]

Machaon had opened his doors for the day- something he rarely... VERY rarely did. Few people even remembered there was a doctor on that street, as he almost always dealt with things that required more... subtlety, and someone who won't mention what sort of experiments you'd been doing. Business had been very slow recently though and he'd had to resort to some rather... Tedious work in order to pull in some extra money. Running a lab in your basement was an expensive hobby.

Unfortunately for the doctor the only thing he'd had to treat today was a migraine, concussion, and a few large scrapes... No interest, no challenge. It was like medical school all over again. Things had become much easier upon his new form though- he had always had more or less workable hands. No more did he have to carry spare tools with his teeth! He could only imagine how much that improved the hygiene of the place. Although occasionally he felt the random urge to chew on leather things... How did one become addicted to something so... odd?

Perhaps part of his slow day was due to the fact that under the sign that said 'open' it also said 'free spayings, and neuterings for all'... and under that again, scribbled was 'optional of course' although that seemed to have been added in much later than the sign was made.

If anyone was brave enough to actually enter his shop they'd find what looked like a basic... room... with a couple chairs, a few of which were blood stained. There were two doors out of here, one was locked, bolted, and chained shut. It appeared to lead to the basement, the other was a standard wooden door. The most prominent feature in the room though was the doctor himself. Large tubes perforated his flesh, pumping that sanguine fluid of his throughout. Currently though, he was simply reading a newspaper, while twirling a scalpel in his free hand. He kept the paper covering up the non-furred section of his face. He'd already read it five or six times.

[carcinoGeneticist]

The fact that he had dragged his sorry ass to this part of the globe would hopefully be proof enough of his determination that his... problem... needed to be corrected. Not only that, but it needed to be fixed soon.

Apocalypse needed to be fixed.

He'd spoken to people from all over about the various treatments avaliable to him. There were a number of doctors who could do the procedure effectively, he was sure, but he was far more picky than that. He wanted someone who could do it quickly and easily, someone who'd be discrete. Most of all, he wanted someone who wasn't a bloody Club. Why did it seem that so many Corvies carried that damnable mark on their chest? It almost made him grit his teeth - until he'd discovered Machaon, of course. It had taken quite a bit of searching, of course, he wasn't exactly well known. All the same, the man had come highly reccomended, and he hardly ever came outside to talk to other people.

That was perfect.

So he'd gone to Corvistowne. And now he was standing outside a store that offered sterilization proceedures for free. A blond eyebrow was quirked at that, and he decided he'd take his chances and pay for it all the same. Free or not, he felt more comfortable getting surgery when money was involved.

"Hello?" he called out as he entered the building, glancing around. He supposed that it wasn't in terrible condition for Corvistowne, and if the man could get the job done without killing him of an infection in the meanwhile, that was even better.

[Thalron]

His blatant advertisement of such services was not something he had the pleasure of doing that often... It's not that he enjoyed the surgery itself that greatly, it was pretty simple really. What he loved was the fact that it meant there were less kids in the world. He despised kids. And they loved him. That trait was practically the bane of his existence, he couldn't go to the capital without atleast one or two kids grabbing into his pipes or following him around all the time asking ludicrous questions.

He was interrupted from his newspaper staring when the door opened, and someone came in. The paper half folded- revealing the face stitched with human flesh, large thread holding the flesh together... One of the hoses going into his arm gurgled slightly as he... smiled. "Ah, greetings." he scanned over the other, no obvious scars, gaping wounds, or impalement upon mundane objects were obvious here. That was odd. Maybe there was something to be had here? an interesting disease, internal injuries, dare he hope, arterial damage within the heart? The boy sure was pale. Possibly an albino.

"What can I do for you?" His voice was a little hoarse, but he cleared it as he set the paper in his lap. Looking patient and... curious. Ever twirling that scalpel in his free hand, moving it quicker as things got more interesting. He of course quickly caught the mark of a king on there... That was... interesting. He rarely got higher cards, they usually had other contacts with better equipment. Machaon was sure that he had twice the skill of most of those doctors though, even if his funding was inferior.

[carcinoGeneticist]

It took quite a bit of self-control to keep from cringing away when Apocalypse's eyes fell on the bizzare ruin that was the man's face. It looked like it was self-inflicted, which confused him even more. Why would anyone do that? And was that... human skin? If it was, it certainly opened a whole new set of questions. Why was still one, of course, but who entered in as well now - who had the skin come from?

Begrudgingly, he had to admit that the doctor clearly had some skill. Stitching one's own face up so neatly must have been quite a task, and the area where the skin had been placed seemed entirely healthy. He could see no traces of swelling or infection that would normally make him turn right around and leave the bizzare little town far, far behind him. At the returned greeting Apocalypse nodded slightly, giving the room another quick glance-over, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he did.

"I'm here about your ad," he said briskly, hoping he didn't have to go into much more detail than that. He reached into a pocket, pulling out a bag that jingled as he set it down. "And I'm willing to pay. I heard you would do the job right and discretely."

Now that he was closer, Apocalypse had a better chance to actually look at the mustelid. Eugh, those tubes made him nervous. He hadn't been dealing with the idea that there was blood and other fluids running through his veins for very long, and he wasn't coping very well with having it right in the open, as it was, staring him in the face. He forced himself to take a deep breath and stay calm.

Was he really having his body sliced open? Of his own accord? He'd been cut once, when Linnea had been born, to get the baby out. Human bodies weren't exactly the best for birthing anything. He was just glad the girl hadn't been a biped, that would have been a real disaster.

[Thalron]

He just smiled as the pale stranger seemed so fascinated by his face. It was a common reaction, although he never answered /anyone/ where his donor had come from, some speculated it was his old apprentice who had vanished mysteriously one day. Other's said he stole the flesh from the graveyard after a corpse had been freshly buried... the list went on, but the truth was sadly missing. Why he had done it was much simpler- he couldn't find anyone else to test his methods on, and a doctor did not require a pretty face to operate. And now, he rarely got fur in his eyes. Unless it was someone elses. The tubes, well, had much of the same reasoning behind them, who else would volunteer for such an operation? The experience he earned from such a experience had helped him save many a life. Even if the occasional leak was... annoying, he figured it was worth it.

When he heard that the pale person was here because of his /ad/ it was the pine martens turn to be surprised... What ad? he only had-- Oh... /That/ ad. This was... Surprising, he even offered cash? That was a big bonus, even if he was disappointed in the fact he had yet to have a challenging case in awhile. "I do everything discretely." He stood up and tossed the paper to one chair as he walked to the less secure looking of the doors, opening it and looking at the human. "You probably don't want to talk about it where anyone can just walk in, yes?"

One might expect this to be his office-- but they would be rather surprised to find out otherwise. It was the operating room, the one available to the public in any case His other one was not for the casual customer. Only very special cases got to see his real lab, or other doctors.

Regardless of that, this room was mostly bare, the walls had the anatomical maps of a multitude of animals, different kinds of wings and tails. All marked with nearly indecipherable notes, some stained with blood. Other than old stains though, it appeared clean and very... efficient. "You can take the chair, or the table." Yes, very bare... There was only one chair. Perhaps the room had a bit of a dubious nature to it. Were those claw marks on the wall?

[carcinoGeneticist]

The man's smile was tight and didn't reach his slit-pupilled eyes in the slightest, but he offered it all the same. The mustelid was what he saw as quintessential Corvie, all quirks and bizzareness and very little that he considered to be polite in general, non-Corvie society. He bit his tongue and held back any remarks he might have otherwise made, realizing that insulting his surgeon would just be stupid.

But what the man was saying was entirely agreeable, and he nodded again. It was a strange thing. But he needed it. Having Linnea... Giving birth to a child was terrible enough, and that was to say nothing of the anxiety he'd felt while carrying. He'd hated every moment of it, and near the end, he'd almost been tempted to cut the damn thing out himself. Cooler heads had prevailed on that issue, luckily, but he'd just been to out of it to think to actually ask to get this proceedure taken care of during his other surgery. "Yeah, I don't particularly... Yeah."

He dropped his arms to the side and followed the man into the room, glancing around with his brows furrowed. He had been expecting an office, but this looked much more like the place where his tubes would be tied. He couldn't help but feel a little bit excited at the prospect of no longer having to worry about that particular issue, but the room set his teeth on edge. It was clean, but the things that were off were off in very big ways. He just hoped that the money involved would keep his doctor honest.

Apocalypse swung himself up onto the table, figuring that the doctor himself could sit in the chair. Like this, the proceedings somehow felt more efficient. Without waiting for another word, the King undid the button of his pants, pulling them down just enough to reveal the scar he'd earned from his C-section. He ran a finger over it slowly, then looked back up at the crimson-spattered man. "I never want to go through it again. Leave everything else as it is, but take out my uterus. The whole thing, if you please."

He wanted to forget the whole experience. He'd be much happier without any traces of what had happened, and that included the pesky organ who's fault this was. Feh.

[Thalron]

Machaon was certainly capable of being polite when the urge struck him, which held roughly the same chances as being struck by a meteorite. Insults or no though, he was a professional. He was very proud about how he could separate his feelings from work, and barring any external influences always did the job to the best of his ability. He twirled the scalpel he held a few more times before setting it down- separate from the rest of his tools. He'd been fumbling with it all day after all, it probably was not the cleanest he had available.

He followed after the man, wandering near to the chair to pick up his clip board, it just had a few things on it... All customary, such as signing the patient name with a number rather than a name. When he turned back he was a little surprised to see the man bare before him, but not phased in the slightest. "You do understand that this procedure is very difficult to reverse correct?" He of course assumed that the man knew what he was asking for- he did not look like the last drunk fool to wander in here after seeing the sign.

The doctors tail twitched as he eyed the C-section scar and under his breath you could nearly hear him mumble something along the line of 'amateurs' While he waited for an answer he filled some things out. And asked the customary questions about possible allergies, and finally if he wished to be put under for the duration or not.

Despite the odd appearances of the doctor, his house, operating room... and apparently basement. He did not appear to be openly insane or out of control, there were few rumours of him doing unneeded operations on anything other than himself. Which is more than could be said for a great deal of doctors in a similar trade as his. This only meant one of two things though, either he was really a honest doctor that often dealt with dishonest people, or he was much better at hiding it than the average mad scientist.

[carcinoGeneticist]

When the man set down the scalpel away from everything else, the King of Hearts was able to breathe a small sigh of relief. He'd really hoped he wasn't going to be operating with something he'd been touching all day and carrying in non-sterile areas. That just seemed... unsanitary, even to his non-professional eyes.

"I'm counting on it," he replied, a thin smile on his face, fixing the mustelid with his rather piercing gaze, a pointed fang showing through. This whole experience was stressful. Someone was going to be cutting into his body. With his permission, granted, but still. The very principle of something being inside of him set the man on edge, made him want to bite and scratch and hiss. But he needed this to be done, and all he could do was assure himself again and again that at least it was a Heart who was doing it.

He answered the questions to the best of his ability, finding he was getting more and more anxious about being put under. He had a thought, but it would depend entirely on how long the proceedure would take. Unlike a vasectomy, it would almost certainly take quite a lot longer. Keeping himself awake and under his pain-ignoring ability was almost certainly out of the question.

Once all the arrangements had been completed, Apocalypse glanced at the man. "Is that everything?"

[Thalron]

The doctor continued to ensure that he had all the proper tools, and medications correctly placed on the tray. At which point he set the clipboard aside and drew a mostly clear fluid out of a vial with a syringe, angling it up he released just a little to ensure there were no air bubbles. He set it on the tray beside the rest of things and hummed to himself thoughtfully... It would be nice to get an assistant at some point, it would in the very least make him feel more comfortable in case something began to go wrong- not that it was ever /his/ fault. Usually people just forgot to mention things, such as allergies, or having particularly runny blood.

Machaon smiled back at Apocalypse, as if he were ignorant of that piercing gaze and pointed fangs... Or perhaps in spite of it. "I believe so, although I'd like to inform you that you will likely be out for several hours after I begin." he spoke casually as he wheeled the tray beside the gurney, and motioned for Apocalypse to lay down upon it.

There was a distinct gleam in his eye that made it obvious he was happy to be doing this, or at least not nearly as bored as he had been while sitting in that lounge. Even a mundane surgery was better than reading the news. Who knows, he may find a tumor or something in there while he's poking around! Barring any further banter (Like that was likely.), or a sudden onset of needle phobia, he would begin by injecting the man, and asking him to count to twenty. Most only reached about three, or four. He had long ago learned not to skimp on the sedatives, you could never tell how resistant someone was to them... He rubbed his neck as he remembered the last one that woke up and attempted to strangle him mid operation..