the midnight seed operation

[00:22] The night draws on. Exhaustion and idle bemusement of what had transpired brings a tired and glazed over countenance to majority of the people within this late evening of Esshar.

And yet, below group does three figures stand to surpass and further work.

Whilst the recovering Sebas finds refuge within the comforts of a medical bed, Jude shifts within the confines of his compound with his own contours of intrigue.

Mayhaps the discovery of such an item tickled the floral-interests of the Cirque. Only did his previous readings over the item's notes and files would it be clear what its purpose was.

Simply put, it were an experiment.

"Sebas," he calls, surged to believe that the moment was ripe. "Do y'remember the seed we found in the Grimmore's manor?"

"I've been studyin' it ever since we got it. I do believe it has roots that... might interest you, as much as it interested me."

The offer posed, the item revealed to have been placed within a ventilated jar. The ebony seed within sat, intimidatingly unmoving. "I've reasons t'believe that you have similar affinities t'this seed. Furthermore, I've reason to believe that this thing is inherently... symbolically parasitic in nature—in a good way, that is."
(Jude Cirque)
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[00:25] {Item} You drop The Last Midnight Seed.
[00:31] "... Jude."

Came a voice which spoke with a level of certainty which couldn't quite be matched. Knowing well that no matter what became of him, his service would have proved more than enough in allowing his companions to move forwards. Leaning back upon this bed with his eyes closed shut, the void had been silenced within his mind.

More than enough had been done.

"I am willing to do whatever I need to reach further heights. As nobles ascend it is only fitting that the butler begins his descent, clawing and grasping at all which nobles leave behind." Even Helheim would not be safe from those hands, seeking and wanting so badly to claim the very fires for his own.

To seek domination.

To slaughter and destroy all within their path.

"... Should you believe this can further my practice within the occult? I'll entrust myself wholly to none other but you and Majin." Repeated, though he would say this a thousand times should the Cirque have demanded as much. Certain of nothing less then those around him, those which had already risen as he continued to fall.

Just this once.

"Do what needs done. Majin and his hands can peer into the unknown, can weave essence and existence in a manner I never could. I know neither of you will let me die to some seed." Certain of such, his head only nodded as he lay back within the bed.

"I'm ready."
(Sebas)
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[00:37] Having done his best to contribute in the process of the surgery, Majin now rested his back against the wall, ever present as some form of stalwart watcher over the still heavily wounded and recovering Sebas.

Well, as of now that very same butler had removed all of his clothes, awaiting the accursed procedure that would soon come to pass.

Long had the Okabe watched Sebas transform, from but a weak and upcoming occultist, to one who now proudly wielded the flames of Helheim that he bore betwixt his hands.

With all luck, he'd be able to descend to even further power of such a nature.

And Majin?
He was all too intrigued to see the results of what would occur from such a thing...

The implantation of the accursed midnight seed, that which Majin himself had been present for the recovery of within the depths of the ancient Grimmore estate.

"Keheheheh…"

He grinned, feeling the fel energies that practically poured off from its surface.

Having neither inspected it, or read the notes which originally accompanied it, for the most part he was ignorant as to what implanting such a thing into his flesh might result in.

But under the careful hands of a weaver of essence such as he -- a warlock, they might very well see him transform into an event more fearsome force than he already stood.

"I'll leave the assumptions and thinkin' t'Jude! I'll be ready the moment he has need of my hands."

A chuckle.

"I do wonder what this'll do to you though..."
(Majin Okabe)
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[00:56] The Cirque's interest within the occult lied partially... indifferent.

By no means had it interested him to partake actively in its essence himself, and yet there was little rhyme or reason for him to deem something that came naturally to humans as something ill.

There would be no balance if there was only light, after all.

"Well, for one, this surgery alone is somethin' I've grounds t'believe is... well, dangerous." As blunt and lay has his intentions were muttered. "It'll involve an incision and cut right above your heart. We'll be insertin' the seed within with great care."

Of course, surgery was not exactly the Cirque's immediate strong suit. And thought he were much more comfortable with the outcropping of tinctures and brews, there was always a need to branch out if he believes himself to surpass what exactly he were capable of now.

It were the case in studying spirits, and it would be the same with medicine.

"This'll be more exhaustin' than the last treatment. And it'll involve y'bein' partially passed out for majority of it." Stepping forth, whilst pulling back the latex wrapped around his fingertips, Jude would opt to bring forth another syringe. His own make of anesthetics, strong enough to numb and knockout anyone in a single willing dose. "So I want y'to prepare."

"You too Majin, make sure y'wash your hands."
(Jude Cirque)
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[01:01] With each passing day it seemed that the Okabe became more and more intertwined with the occult and its machinations -- Likely as a part and parcel package as a result of his dealing with witchcraft.

It was only a matter of time before that seed of darkness manifested within his own magics.

He'd felt it the moment he cut down Azed in the name of Sebas' will; the fulfillment of that dark contract between he and the butler that had brought about his first true kill.

And in it, a body sacrificed to Helheim and the Dark Lord.
The slow slipping of strength into his own body he felt with each day that had passed since then--

But for now, the focus lay upon the operation at hand.

"'Course... This doesn't sound like it'll be too pleasant for Sebas but hey! At least he'll be asleep for it, right?"

He wouldn't possibly do something as stupid as refusing anesthetic, right?
Right?

"Anyhow... Lemme get on that."

Moving his way over to a nearby sink, the application of some soap was done and he began to scrub and dirt, grime, or bacteria from his hands.

Wouldn't want to give the butler an infection by accident.
(Majin Okabe)
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[01:02] "... Mentally, or?"

Naturally he had long since been prepared ever since their words had first graced him. The need to see him sliced open like no more than a piece of meat, bleeding and leaving his body in the capable hands of Jude and Majin.

None other would be afforded this one chance to witness what ancient hands had constructed. None other would burn with such ferocity that occultists screamed and cried out against all other actions. To conjure and burn with ever greater power - To the point that none could contest that burning ferocity within.

"I've long since been prepared, Jude. Knock me out, keep me awake. Cut me open and flay me as a final act against my name."

He sounded as though he couldn't so much as care less what became of him afterwards. That silver gaze still closed and head pressed firm against the back of that pillow. Comfortable as could possibly be while continuing to lift Sebas to even greater andnewer heights.

For their sake.

Not for some common gain or because he would soon bow his head in their name.

No, victory alone was all he needed to afford those closest to him.

"My life is in the both of your hands."
(Sebas)
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[01:18] "Mentally is, well that's one way to put it." And thus, on cue, the syringe is set forth as a surge of numbing lethargy would begin to thrum upon Sebas' form.

What transpires next, to him, would be nothing more than a hazy fever dream.

Details go blurry, sensation becomes nonexistent.

Meanwhile...

"Very well, Majin, I've be focused on him solely for this. So I'll be needin' y'to pass me things as we go on." The tools had been set aside. A lasting gift that Starfall had endowed upon him. A few beginner's tools, a few recently bought ones. A mix-mash of items poised and prepared for what was to come.

Passing a star of ease, the Cirque takes a dermatome, momentarily waving it above Sebas' chest. Rehearsing the incision before...

Swish.

Cuts dwell and form upon the space above the butler's heart. Flesh unwinds as the inner sanctum of blood and vessels spurt and writhe into existence.

If Jude were any more squeamish, there might just be a problem with the progress. However, resolve remained strong.

And the process could begin.

"Majin, pass me a scalpel. Prepare one of the soothing reeds too," he adds, poised to cut further deeper into flesh as the opening made just below the collar bone begins its descent.
(Jude Cirque)
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[01:22] -- Ah.

There he went.

No second would pass as his vision blurred and pressure heightened. Just a moment was all Jude would see, much like a defensive stance against this Cirque which sought to see him undone. Mana flaring and snapping as those occultic tendrils crashed through that ceiling above Sebas.

Lasting no more than a brief few seconds, his existence put under by that slew of reagents now within his system.

Thump!

Unconscious.

Whatever came next would be without his voice, without his mind capable of knowing much more than silence. Slumped before both boys and more than ready to accept what came next. Though, perhaps there was one fact which everyone had forgotten here and now.

He was still in Jude's bed.

This poor fabric was about to be absolutely soaked and ruined by his blood.

Oh well.
(Sebas)
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[01:25] Jude will regret this come laundry day.
(Jude Cirque)
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[01:26] The careful and calculated motions of the Cirque as he begins with the anesthetic's injection into the butler's form, and the subsequent cuts made across his chest that begin opening the passage into the cavity dwelling above his heart...

It was impressive, and each of them were meticulously observed by the Okabe himself.

It was a perfect learning experience.

"Sheesh... At least he wasn't fuckin' stupid enough to go denyin' anesthetic." He snorted in amusement, before his brow quirked at Jude's request.

Right, he was the assistant here.

"Oh, yeah sure gimme a sec."

Rolling his shoulders back, Majin would momentarily shift his attention over to the set of tools, allowing Jude to continue his work upon the unconscious form of Sebas.

A scalpel... And soothing reeds.

First of all, the small metal blade would be picked up, and quickly disinfected with a bit of nearby hard spirits, then handed off to the surgeon once dried.

"Here ya are! Lemme start on that reed. A uh... Bowl of it, right?"

Sniffling, and moving over to Jude's alchemical supplies, deft hands made short work of the alchemical preparation ahead. Reed mashed down into the bowl, the stems removed...

All ready for, most likely, dulling Sebas' pain once the anesthetic awoke.

He couldn't imagine the after-pain of open heart surgery was any less worse.
(Majin Okabe)
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[01:36] "Not just the normal bowled ones. Take whatever extract from the reed that y'can. We'll be using it for when we embed the seed. Sorta like a glue, doublin' as more anesthetics." Instructions laid clear. The marching thrum of what needed to be done plastered as clear as crystal.

All the while the Cirque began his foray deeper into the pugilist's flesh. Slowly does each incision and cut bring space deeper and deeper. The sinking presence glides past sinew and around bone as the faintest beatings of the heart soon begins to make itself known.

Slow, calm, restrained. The anesthetics had kept the ventricles of the organ beating at a steady pace, posed to make the eventual presence of a foreign object a welcome one.

"Alright. The reed please," he asks. They were moments away from the climax of the process.
(Jude Cirque)
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[01:37] No aid.

No words.

He was as silent as one could come as this sea of consciousness was lost within his mind. No movement or action taken as all which came from Sebas was the slightest breath being drawn inwards.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Within his mind, however? Something else was afoot, something which no mortal could attempt to comprehend. The mind of a butler which few had looked towards, dreams and yearning for something grand and important.

Should Majin ever be able to peer into those depths?

He'd see the three of them sharing tea, Sebas serving them all and a slew of blackened flames around them. Such was a world most perfect of which he could dwell within as his body was sliced and punctured.

At ease.
(Sebas)
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[01:41] Heeding Jude's correction, a quick nod of his head was paid, while his attention paid itself fully to the alchemical work in front of him.

He was most certainly a master in the field, though nowhere near as proficient or passionate at it as someone like Jude was. It was a mere means to an end for him to make obscene amounts of profits off of others suffering.

He did like himself a nice hoard of coin...

"Extract... Got it."

Shifting his technique, the proper petals and the likes of the soothing reed were all taken and moved into a mortal and pestle.

They found themselves ground down, the oils eventually beginning to manifest as Majin piled in more and more, ensuring he was getting something that would function absolutely perfectly for what it was they desired.

A binding adhesive, and an anesthetic.
A curious but logical combination.

In but a few moment, the desired product would be produced in a syringe to be poured ata moments notice with precision.

"This should be what you're lookin' for. Seems sticky enough."
(Majin Okabe)
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[01:50] The black seed, poised and examine within its glass prison. In a careful stride would tweezers move to pinch the piece betwixt metal hands, pulling it free from its containment and held upward with a sterilized gaze shared between Jude and Majin.

The onyx shell and its current attunement to the depraved arts thrum in clarity.

"Oh nature. Y'truly are such a magnificent thing." A statement muttered in the air. A precautionary comment before the silver-haired youth's motions bring the piece into the dug hole.

Planting it. Perhaps such was the best descriptor of what was to come.

Squelch. Squirm.

The sounds of flesh meeting with an odd piece pivots the presence of the tweezers being cautiously dug into the space between the collarbone and the heart.

Softly, integral movements. There was little to no room for error in this state of affairs as the practicing doctor would push to the process' succession.

Upon the end of the trail at the bottom of the flesh pit only does the true test begin.

A gaze befell Majin, posed to grasp the extract of Soothing Reed. With the item passed on, the next step begins.

The extract falls, poured into where the seed had been planted as silent chants leave the lips of the Cirque. His own essence of biomancy thrum to life, the extract acting not just as a means of natural healing to the wound made, but as fertilizer for the seed that had been left within.

Slowly, the implement is pulled free, leaving nothing but the item within as...

"Majin, be a bud and sew him up for me," he requests. "I need t'keep it fed while we patch up Sebas." A hungry piece, satiated only by the Cirque's own mana in hopes to keep it from feeding on butler's passed out form.

If previous tests were any indication, Jude willed this not to be handled impetuously.
(Jude Cirque)
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[02:00] Allowing Jude to do much of the heavy lifting for the operation, Majin sat back after handing over the syringe of soothing reed extract, allowing him to set about the next steps to finally bring the procedure to its conclusion.

In fact, he found himself almost caught off guard when he was called forward to... Sew the butler up.

"Oh."

He'd not gotten a chance for proper hands-on experience like this before, so it went without saying that he was a tad set about by it.

But that hesitation soon turned to brimming enthusiasm as he practically skipped over with a needle and thread in hand.

"Y'got it!"

Moving to the butler's side, Majin began to inspect the part flesh with yet another pre-emptive roll of his shoulders.

It was go time.

"Lets speed this up a bit."

Doing his best to avoid interfering with the seed itself, his wind magic, in junction with some of his hel-borne telekinesis, would take hold of the needle.

Why use your hands with magic like that?

It flew threw the flesh, up around and over again as the parted flesh found itself quickly closing, inch by inch from the bottom to the top.

He was surprisingly good at it, if he said so himself.
(Majin Okabe)
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[02:05] With the finalizing sutures beginning its lasting tug and pull, there was a semblance of relief from the Cirque's countenance.

The blood had been kept and all that remains was the wrapping of bandages around the upper torso of Sebas.

Today had been one filled with various intrinsic passages.

The end of an era, the beginning of a new.

It would come to no surprise that the final sense of this surgery leaves Jude, and likely the other two, exhausted. And, finally, they could clamor for rest.

"That should do it," he mutters, backstepping to allow the finalizing motions to occur. "I think that turned out better than expected. Now we wait for him t'come to."
(Jude Cirque)
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[02:06] Motionless.

Pain was no more than a sensation which would fade over time. Winds soothing that open wound and allowing for not a single hand to touch and disturb that seed within his chest. What was once no more than a psychological darkness having bled into this reality - Made manifest in the form of something more now spread along his existence.

No matter what.

No matter how.

His pursuit for higher and higher powers would be halted by nothing. His yearning to claim the heavens as his own reached towards, beckoning a call which knew no less than absolute greatness. Bloodied sheets would be where he spent his night, heavy breaths and a beating heart which now rang throughout his mind.

His hunger?

Sated for mere moments.

Regardless of it all, he wouldn't stir awake even as that wound came to a close. Lost in those tides of thoughts and blissful mess of dreams as his innards were no more than an experiment now. Given place for aseed to root and feast upon whatever it could so desire, to spread until even he was consumed by that which they knew nothing of.

All in the name of another.

All for his dream.

The night would carry on and Sebas would be allowed rest. Only awakening as the morning called his name, whenever that may next be.
(Sebas)