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[viver]

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[mygoodsir]

It certainly would seem so.

It will? Oh my goodness, that is quite a relief. I'm afraid my actions have been most upsetting to others. And myself, of course.

I suppose so. I have a hard time letting go of such things. I'm sure it's very silly of me.

[viver]

I'm very familiar with what that's like.

[ This guy's actions can upset so many people, Goodsir. ]

Not at all. I know what you can do with your eye, love. If you're willing to let me take it from you.

[mygoodsir]

I suppose you must be.

I am. Shall I bring it to you?

[viver]

One of the few things Alaric and I were consistent on.

I'll come to you. Are you staying with someone?

[mygoodsir]

That and charm.

Yes, with Tim. I shall meet you outside; I'd rather he not see it.

[viver]

Flattery is hardly needed. I welcome it, though.

We'll find privacy elsewhere. I imagine no one wants to see what I intend to do.

[mygoodsir]

I'll see you soon.

Thank you, dear.

blanket cw from here on: eye gore bound to happen

[viver]

[ He finds Harry's tent, surveys his state for a moment and makes a soft comment, then leads him to the maze — which should be safe if they don't wander in too far, now that most have made it out and warned everyone else off — taking out a cigarette as he rests his back against one of the many stone pillars spread throughout. ]

Cigarette?

[ Maybe Harry remembers what happened the last time Zephir offered him one. ]

[mygoodsir]

[If Harry's little smile is any indication, he remembers. But he shakes his head. In his hands he clutches a Sobe beverage bottle, empty of liquid but with his eyeball sitting neatly at the bottom. The optic nerve trails from it like a tail and it's a bit worse for wear having been out for over twenty-four hours.]

You look well.

[Pleasantries even now.]

[viver]

Thank you, love.

[ It'll be just for him, then. Inadvisable considering the circumstances, but he's still able to reverse and heal what isn't being regrown by the maze's game rules. ]

May I?

[ Cigarette between his lips, he reaches for the bottle now. ]

[mygoodsir]

[Harry hands it over after the barest hesitation. He smiles nervously.]

It feels strange to see it. And to... to give it up. But for you I can.

[viver]

You're not giving it up. You get to watch how it transforms.

[ As he observes and contemplates, Zephir knows exactly what to do with it. He knows who is responsible for it, too; it has traces of the eternal boy all over it. The one who was incapable of feeling pain until Life stepped in and changed that. His gaze flicks over to the other man. ]

You said you removed your eye?

[ Not had it removed—? ]

[mygoodsir]

Yes. I had some help with it - I couldn't see very well once I'd severed the muscles that hold it in place.

[Like this is a normal thing to ask for help with.]

I needed someone to sever the nerve.

[viver]

Very thoughtful of you. [ As if Harry said Devon's name somewhere in that, ] I took something from him as well. To save his life. Isn't that a strange coincidence?

[ Making it sound like a happy one, too. After another drag from his cigarette, he touches Harry on his chest. ]

Opened him up and took out his heart. He told me he'd never felt pain before that. I gave him a taste of what it's like.

And then I changed what agony felt like for him, too.

[mygoodsir]

[Harry startles, looking at Zephir with something very like hurt.]

He liked it?

[viver]

[ He sees that. Ah, looks like he did something here. ]

You should ask him. I wouldn't want to speak on his behalf.

[ He lifts the bottle instead. ]

I propose using your eye to create new life. Do you approve?

[mygoodsir]

Ah. Yes. Of course. It is not any business of mine, anyway.

[Harry suddenly realises that he is protective of his goblin twink. And he really has no right to be. Devon is an adult, and Zephir is... something else.]

Yes.

...what kind of life?

[viver]

A plant. One that's made of the same being this came from.

[ What better way to ensure compatibility? ]

But you'd have to let me take it, Harry. [ The finger moves from his chest to his face, resting softly on his forehead. ] The seed.

[mygoodsir]

[Zephir's touch instills a great sense of longing in Harry. His heart rate speeds up.

He nods.]

Yes. You may.

[viver]

There will be pain.

[ And this time it won't be life-saving. Harry would be suffering for what is essentially mother nature's vanity project. ]

Are you worried?

[mygoodsir]

[Harry laughs softly.]

Pain was my constant companion for quite some time. I will be alright.

[His good eye searches Zephir's face.]

I am frightened. But if you are bringing forth life from what I have discarded, I believe it is my duty to proceed.

[viver]

[ Good answer. Zephir smokes the cigarette one last time, puts it out on his own tongue, then discards the thing. He hands the bottle back. ]

Don't let it go, love. It mustn't break.

[ Closer than before, towering over the other man, he cups the untouched half of Harry's face and holds his chin with the other hand. He tilts Harry's head back slightly, making him look upward — at the sky overseeing the maze, or at the deity overseeing his newest harvest. Zephir gets started on removing the eyepatch. ]

[mygoodsir]

[Harry holds the bottle with both hands and allows Zephir to manipulate him. He breathes slowly and steadily as Zephir removes the eyepatch and the bandages below.

It's still so fresh. It aches even under the numbing comfort of painkillers.

Harry keeps his gaze on the sky.]

cw: eye gore, pseudo-emeto, licking wounds

[viver]

[ Zephir removes everything until Harry's wound is exposed, all the colors and shine of pain and violence to the body on display. He leans down with both hands on Harry's face, angling himself as though they're about to kiss, until his tongue darts out and he licks into the empty socket. Some of his white ichor pours into it to find out whether the sacrifice will obey his orders to heal itself, but nothing happens. That's good. And at least he can say he tried. ]

Remember this: your agony serves a purpose.

[ Whispered like a prayer for a ritual. The hold on Harry's face is stronger, steadying his head, ready to hold him in place if he tries to jerk away for the next part. ]

Do you want it? Or shall I make you feel something else?

[mygoodsir]

[Harry's breath hitches when Zephir leans in and his lips part slightly in anticipation. He makes a soft, distressed noise when Zephir licks him instead, but he doesn't move away.

He exhales.]

I want it.

[Deserves it.]