RP:Seeing Eye Bird

Summary: Larewen gets an eye.

House Dragana

Towering over the abyssal forest, the dark mass of House Dragana is no less eerie than the vegetation, or lack thereof, in which it stands. The mansion's outer perimeters are flanked by the twisting trees and there are no gates to prevent the seemingly less desirable denizens of the forest from trespassing upon the property. A sleek, obsidian walkway runs from the house's entry to the path. The only source of light without comes form wrought-iron lanterns that are placed on either side of the walkway, spaced perfectly from one another. Within them, an eldritch glow of a deep, verdant hue flickers. Those brave enough to approach House Dragana's doors will be greeted with iron knockers bearing blackened skulls, their eyes set with emeralds that glow with the same light from the lanterns. Within the house's walls, there is no shortage of decadence. Only the most elegant of furniture is placed throughout its rooms. A grand staircase of blackened wood leads to the upper levels, where rooms for those that reside within the house can be found. Midway up, the stairs split to the left and right, spiraling upward. Here, there is a landing with a set of double doors that leads to a large ballroom. The lower level of the house plays host to a dining area and kitchen, though rarely used, a grandiose library filled with grimoires and tomes, and a small museum of artifacts collected by the house's residents. Though there appear to be no candles to light the way, an ethereal glow floods the innards of the house, providing ample reading light - undoubtedly arcane in origin. Dark magic is weaved into the house's existence as a measure of protection.

Larewen sat within the confines of House Dragana, as was usual more often than not. Only this time, she was not seated within her study, but rather the room where her artifacts were kept on display. It was a room she longed to see again, with true sight - among many other things. She could only make out the elements of magic inlaid upon the items though, and that was only because of the augment placed on her sightless eyes by Daath. Her fingers ran gingerly over an ancient tome that was carefully bound to the pedestal upon which it stood. As she caressed it, a gentle tug of magic was thrust outward, seeking to summon to the necromancer a certain little bird that she'd recently taken under her wing: there were things she needed to do, and his aid was needed.

Irenic is quite nearby to the House Dragana, exercising his practice in hunting between jogging spurts. Yes, he doesn't feel at ease in the vampire town, but he feels that helps him keep an edge. His mind does wonder on why he feels it's important t hat he does these things so often, the reading, the writing, the exercising and training… Must be old haunts for him in the past he doesn’t remember, but he's never compelled to remember. Irenic aptly receives the call and with amazing force he flies up into the skies to set his short journey to the house of his master, landing a bit heavily on the doorstep before folding those massive ivory wings tightly to his shirtless athletic form. He wipes the beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand before the opposite one pulls the door open and steps into a place he is starting to familiarizing as home. His booted feet echo those impressive strides around the house until he finds his master in the artifact room and silver optics taking in the precious items. He is sure she heard his strides enter and come to a stop at a respectable distance, but he still makes his presence known to her in that low gruff tone of his, "Merry meet, Lady Dragana." Seems he's never too excited, or bored, nor angry - let's call him mild mannered… For now, anyway.  He does still bow in the off chance she might pulsate her magic in order to assume him. It's a shame she is possibly missing out on the shimmering tawny skin of her slave, tattooed, well aged… and the way the light cut itself on the hills and valleys that is this rather tall specimen's torso… Just a bloody shame.

Larewen :: It would be his footsteps that alerted her to his arrival, more so than the ties that bound him to her servitude. Even as her fingers caressed those aged pages, her gaze was fixed beyond the book. The elf was not quite as disheveled as she had been on their most recent encounters, and in a way that was at least a bit of an improvement. When his approach stopped, her head turned slightly in his direction and he would see that her jawline was tense. The elf had been contemplating something, and given the way in which she finally turned to face Irenic, it undoubtedly involved the avian. "Tell me, my beautiful bird, how far does your loyalty to me go?" she asked.

Irenic notices her tense when he didn't come too close only to allow her some breathing room away from his scent. He still isn't sure what happens whenever she gets that close to him, so he always gave her a bit of space since then... Not that he didn't like what happened, but her expression of surprise and guilt was something he never wanted to cause again. His breathing became less labored as he straightens his posture back after the bow he had offered. His silvery gaze unmoving from her while his answer comes without hesitation, "Till my return to death." His hand clasps one of his own wrists behind his back (only accenting his shoulder ands bicep muscles) as if he were a soldier or knight... Old habits. He never questions her, he's no right to through his eyes. So, silence heavies the air between them until she deems fit to break it. He does take a small moment for himself to softly smirk at her from noticing her a lot less disheveled knowing it would go unnoticed or unseen.

Larewen :: A dark brow arched upward at his reply and for a moment, the elf appeared amused. It was fleeting though, and faded as her head tilted to the side slightly. "And were I to make a request of you, to ask you to give up a part of you, would you allow me to do so?" she asked. Clearly, she was leading into something... but what? "It would not be a total loss, mind you: for in return, I shall give something to you as well."

Irenic stays unmoved, unamused and flat with his chilling reply, "Without question." His glances down where his manhood use to reside, remembering the day when she made it so and how it made sense to him in time because, females… You see -are- a distraction. When she mentions about offering something in return a slight scowl tugs at his scarred lips, "I need or want for nothing, Lady Dragana." But-of-course if she insists, he will oblige… Don't need to go around being rude to his master, now. He is never greedy for anything from his master, only to serve under her and do her bidding whatever it may be making him quite an independent object to own.

Larewen :: The Lady was unaware of his own glance downward, just as she was unaware of many things that she once had been. In fact, that was precisely why she'd called the avian here this day. Drawing her hand away from the ancient tome, the elf turned to face Irenic fully, those dark eyes falling as best they can upon his form. "I need one of your eyes. Only one, for I have need to see as I once did, and need to see as I do now as well. Will you allow that?" Odd to ask permission perhaps, but perhaps it justified what she intended to do.

Irenic did sometimes wonder if this was possible, but never got the guts to ask her. His gaze makes the course to set back on Larewen just as his reply came as quickly as all the other ones, "Yes, of course, Lady Dragana." Without fear was always his way and he has an unusual amount of trust in her as a person and her abilities; I mean, she raised him from near death, that's a lot of man and more than likely took a great deal of power. This duty he is compelled to offer her is more than just his dues, paying a debt or sense of affection, it is mostly out of respect. A bit quieter he would add, "Anything for you," but nearly regretting it instantly for he feels he just sounded quite pathetic.

Larewen dipped her head slightly in lieu of his words, and if his eagerness to comply gave her any cause for concern, it did not show upon her pale features. "I figured it would be so," she said, softly. She turned away from him again, stepping carefully through the room and toward an ornate chest. From within its drawers, she withdrew another tome, not unlike the one on display. When she faced Irenic again, her neck craned toward a door leading out of the small museum. "There is a room beyond those doors where I can provide you with meager comfort during the extraction, if you'd prefer. I cannot provide you with anesthesia, and the pain may very well be unbearable. You are fortunate, in comparison to myself though, for I will be doing the removal myself, of an eye from my own, and of yours."

Irenic takes the comfort where he can as he had already assumed the pain would be great, thinking only to himself: 'Anything will be child's play after the removal of my unit' Still with no fear, no excitement he makes his way to the room she suggests. He takes the idea to make himself comfortable so she will not have to reach as far to his eye. When she mentioned how painful it would be to do to herself, "If that is something I am able to do… I won't enjoy the pain of extracting your eye, but if it will help - I'll do it." His determination made it seem he was more worried about her pain than his own.

Larewen :: The elf was not blind to the way in which he spoke, of his apparent concern for her own suffering over his in the exchange that would soon take place. A shrug of her shoulder followed and a small burst of energy lit her vision, providing her with enough "sight" to follow in Irenic's footsteps. Upon entering the room, an eldritch glow flooded it, illuminating a padded table. With a pale hand, the necromancer gestured toward it, "If you'll lay yourself there, I will restrain you and gather the tools needed."

Irenic eyes the table during his reply, "Okay." He scoots those well toned gluteus onto the table before swinging those long legs on the table and laying his bare back onto the cold table. He shivers just slightly while he slips the restraint along his forehead and arm furthest from Larewen, leaving her to do the rest. The Avian inhales deeply before giving notice of, "Ready when you are, boss." He subconsciously blinks a couple times almost as if saying farewell to one of them, unknown which one she chooses.

Larewen dipped her head, approaching once he'd laid himself down. Gentle pulses of magic were used to help her find the restraints and fasten them, which she did so tightly. First his legs, then his arms, and finally, a strap across his forehead and mouth to hold his head in place. The latter was the most crucial of restraints, given what was about to take place. Then, stepping away she retrieved the tools necessary: a small curved one meant for separating his eye from its socket, and another meant to hold his lids open. Upon her return, she inhaled softly and then exhaled slowly. It had been quite some time since she'd physically harmed another being with her own two hands, save for feeding, and oddly enough she felt the need to gather herself. It was his left eye that she pried open finally, and then, without much of a warning, and with the aid of her magic sight, she carefully slid the curved instrument in between eyeball and bone, looping it around as she sought to detach it carefully.

Irenic had helped in some of the restraints need she only tighten them further and with eyes open he started to put himself under a sort of trance or meditation, going over words of books he's recently read or training exercises all the while fixating his gaze on the ceilings. His jawline tightens when the curved instrument slid into his cranium; this does hurt - extremely. His low gruff tone grunts and growls and fists clench tightly while the immense strength of his being stretches the leather restraints slightly, but remarkably he was able to keep his head in place - with the aid of the head restraints. Expletives are surely grunted out, nothing directed towards Larewen. He feels a cold sweat coming on and the shiver down his spine causing tiny bumps to raise on his skin. Luckily he was strapped in tight enough that his wings were tucked firmly under him as they were taking the flight in 'fight or flight' quite literal.

Larewen :: When the eye was completely and carefully severed, she withdrew the instrument and set about rinsing it in a nearby bowl of water that was totally there the entire time before extracting the orb itself. Setting it carefully upon a plate, she inhaled a second time. She'd heard his cursing, felt him push against the restraints as she'd leaned over him, and could only imagine the sort of pain that had coursed through his body. The very same would soon course through her own, though there were no restraints to hold her in place: the withdrawal of her own eye would be done by her own hand, and indeed that took a bit of constitution. Murmuring a dampening spell in hopes of lessening the pain, she pried open the lids of her own left eye and held them in place tightly with one hand whilst taking up the curved tool to scoop her own out. Her jaw tensed, just as his had, against the pain and a low growl reverberated from her throat as she removed the oculus and, with a sickening slurp of a noise, it eventually came loose - and almost fell on the floor. Almost. Blood wept from the gaping hole left in her socket, and dropping the curved instrument to the ground, she leaned nearer to Irenic once more and carefully inserted her eye into his socket. As she did, she weaved a necromantic spell to bind the organ to his tissue, bringing it to a semblance of life through death. The same would be done with his eye, once it was placed within her own socket. The pain, unfortunately, would linger. Upon the spell's completion, ownership of each other's eye would be complete, and just as Larewen would once more see again, through that silvery oculus, he would be able to see traces of magic through his left, now brown, eye.

Irenic was breathing heavily once his eye was pulled out, still in pain, but he was trying to let her concentrate for her own sake. His right eye still followed her until she started to growl to pull her own eye out, he held his breath and closed his one eye as he couldn't see his master go through such a thing. He was silent taking in deep berates through his nose and out his mouth while every muscle of the man was tensed and quivering with a cold sweat glistening about his tawny and ink decorated skin. His greying light brown hair felt damp against the cold table as he was attempting to focus his mind once more until he heard her near him feeling her necromancy magic just as an eye was being connected to his cranium. He could only clench his fists so tight which were already beading with blood from the nub of nails he does have dug into the skin of his palms there. Again she was silent, suppressing his unease so his master may concentrate. Once the magic was done the pain lingered, but he blinked a few times, only able to focus out of his silver eye for now

Larewen blinked several times herself, adjusting to the eldritch glow of the room slowly. Her pain mirrored Irenic's, of that there was no doubt. When she was finally able to focus entirely, she looked down upon the bound avian and her brow furrowed slightly. He was truly a beautiful creature, and that she could not deny; and yet, she had robbed him. Perhaps she would continue to take from him, that remained to be seen. She began to unfasten the bindings. "Feel free to choose one of the empty rooms for your own. I will have Margret bring you something for the pain, as well as a warm meal."

Irenic raised himself to seated position on he table his massive wings which reflect hues of pearlescent whites and shrinking silvers seem to hypnotically glisten against his back. His focus falls down at Larewen, his expression amused as his scarred lips smirk at her. His good eye looking into his own which is now set in her face, the drastic difference in the optics was intriguing, "Looks good on you... Master." His tone might be taken suggestive and when he stands the distance between them shrinks and his 6'11" height might shrink her as well; and such a proximity of course grants her most favorite scent from the Avian. The back of his hand wipes droplets of sweat from his brow once more and she might notice nearly every muscle shivering and twitching from their recent strain, only accenting the being in which she owns. His gruff tone low and a bit raspy now, "Thank you Lady Dragana." His gaze boldly and confidently looking into her own and in there she may realize his duty to her, his adoration brought on by respect and how he was happy to do this for her.

Again, Emrith's scent flooded over Larewen as Irenic rose and as a result, the necromancer drew back from the avian. Being able to see Irenic now, through his own eye, helped her maintain control. She dipped her head slightly, her breath coming to a stop in order to avoid taking in that scent. "And thank you," she replied, almost curtly, before suddenly turning and showing herself out of the room.