wiedzminka | ❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

[ It doesn't take long, since she doesn't have to change much; Ciri grabs a light fabric wrap to throw around her shoulders, which is slightly nicer than the simple black blouse she's wearing underneath, tugs on her booots and makes it downstairs within a few minutes.

Jaskier looks so pleased with himself, she's immediately amused and... suspicious isn't the word. Intrigued. ]

All right. What is it you wanted to show me?

[Jaskier gives her one of his best ecstatic grins. Geralt amounted to the equivalent of the joy of finding one has stepped in horse dung as a surprise; he imagines Ciri will be much more fun to show.

They need something good. They always do, but --

Well, maybe a huntress will not be interested, either. But perhaps she'll lie far better to his face about it.]

We'll need to hop through a portal to Libertas, but it isn't a far journey, I promise. I'm sure you don't mind a spot of traveling, and I've already taken care of any potential costs.

[He offers his arm to lead the way towards the portal -- a much better form of travel than horseback, if you ask him, especially with the ease he experiences going through them now after hopping back and forth between Cadens and Libertas for over a month.] Alucard and I have finally finished what we've been working on for months, and I think you'll like it. And if you don't, you can simply pretend you do and we'll return home.

Oh! The memorial?

[ She's heard Jaskier mention it, but doesn't know all the details, especially since they've both been preoccupied. Her enthusiasm is a lot more obvious than Geralt's, at least.

Ciri takes his arm familiarly, walking the familiar route to the nearest portal alongside him. It's been a bit since she went to Libertas, after initially spending a while there to help with the search and rescue, and then some of the building and restoration efforts. As things improved, it seemed she had less to offer in the way of broad skillsets, but she's eager to see how the city has been doing lately. ]

Oh hush, Jaskier. I'm sure I'll like it.

[He nods, almost solemnly.] Indeed it is.

[He can barely contain himself. It's good. It's very good. It's brilliant, and both he and Alucard know it, but just. For now, if only from one, he would truly like to hear what others see in it. If it's simply a vanity project, or something truly meaningful.

Objectively, he knows it is. It was never about pounding out his name into a plaque placed near the sculpture itself.

Sometimes it is nice to hear otherwise.]

I know you will, yet there is a difference between believing and being proven right. [He nudges her with his arm, teasing. The way to the portal passes quickly, though for once Jaskier is not filling the silence with chatter. This could be possibly the biggest thing he's ever done (besides Toss a Coin, obviously. People are still singing that twenty years later. But he knows well how much that song was selfish. For himself. It wasn't about the elves, or Geralt --

In some ways, he'd worked on trying to make up for it. A little. (Still a banger.)

On the other side of the portal, he leads her through the streets carved through remaining destruction as the city begins looking more like a city and less a pile of discarded things. He knows Libertas well now, all its ins and outs, and several people even wave to Jaskier as he leads the Witcheress onward.

The first indication that anything special is here is a small hedge of blackberry bushes -- and just beyond them, the rare, dizzying sight of green grass.] This is only the edge of it.

[Willow Memorial Park lays itself out in front of them, the peaks of trees in the distance. And, rising above even the treetops, the ever-shifting sight of the memorial sculpture.

It must be the greenest any part of this desert has been for some time.] Not too garish, I hope?

[ She walks alongside him, making easy conversation about her day or his, until finally they reach what he's been leading her to.

The edge of the park comes into view, and beyond it, the whole stretch of it -- the startling green that stands out among the browns and tans favored in the architecture of the Free Cities and the desert itself. Ciri gasps.

Then elbows him. ]

Jaskier, you know that's not the word and I know you're not that humble, so you may as well take credit where it's due.

It's lovely.

[ She walks forward toward the sculpture to examine all the varied pieces of it. ]

[He laughs.] I know, I know! I was only trying something new. [Being stupidly humble, he means -- and only Jaskier would attempt to be humble as a joke. (And it is partly not, maybe, very deep within, because this park has become so much than just a bit of idle art. It is like the very first time he sings a new song, when he awaits the reaction to it.

It is personal. Deeply so.)]

Even lovely doesn't truly cover it. [He walks beside her as she takes it all in, the soft sounds of bubbling water nearby as the waters that feed the fountain nearby flow.] It's been magicked so the citizens of Libertas can offer new items to it. It absorbs them and shifts, forming a new mosaic.

[And at the base, north and south, are the plaques: Grief has no fixed shape. Add what you would to the mosaic, and the items will shift into place. You (and only you) may reclaim what you leave if you feel the need to do so. The date of the park's opening is listed, followed by Commissioned by Quilleth Kaur, designed and executed by J. Pankratz and A. Ţepeş under the guidance of A. Kade.]

And we added some of the Lunae's metals to prevent any magical tampering with the spell. So we are hoping it remains unblemished for some time.

Ahh, there is the Jaskier I know. [ She's teasing. Mostly.

Ciri listens as she reads the plaque, walking around to observe different parts of the sculpture, now and again leaning closer to examine something someone left. ]

You've done well. Making sure to include the people of Libertas -- I'm sure those who decided to offer something to the memorial appreciate it very much.

[ Despite Jaskier's effusiveness, Ciri knows this is a work of kindness, not vanity. It isn't meant for him. Or for her.

She smiles up at him, gently. ]

I'm proud of you.

Well. That was definitely Alucard's touch. I was going to offer a statue of myself.

[His smile is soft, teasing just as much.] It was a beautiful idea. He understands grief more than most, I think. And the need to be understood.

[To be remembered. And to be given a space where those who are lost cannot be forgotten -- whether it is through shells, or scales, necklaces, written letters, even the scrap of a leather belt or a tied braid of hair. The objects all move together, protected, forming a large picture of the people Libertas stood for.

He puts a hand on the statue, drawing over a collection of painted rocks by the children of a lost blacksmith.] Thank you. [He smiles back.] It feels strange to have left such a permanent mark on this world. A physical one.

[Of course, his music has already entrenched itself in Abraxas. As he meant it to be. But music only exists if it is remembered.]

❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

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