❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

[wiedzminka]

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[cointosser]

[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.

[wiedzminka]

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.

[cointosser]

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.]