hadriel_logs | An intellectual? Yes. And never deny it.

Who: Ignis Scientia & OPEN
What: Open post to approach an agitated academic (will match format c:)
Where: Outside a partly-restored bar/cafe in view of the colosseum, or Sorrow's temple. Open to moving anywhere
When: 7/8
Warnings: Nothing yet!

[i. cafe]

The library had proven itself to be useless so quickly that he hadn't had to waste much time on it. A lack of informative texts along with the almost overpowering smell of damp, mouldering paper had him quickly giving that up as a possible avenue of progress, though he had made a note to take a proper look around at some time in the future. One could never be entirely dismissive of such places, even when they could not be advisably entered without breathing filtration.

What passes for the afternoon in the cavern holding Hadriel has Ignis brushing off one of the sturdier-looking chairs in front of a shop which might have once been a cafe or bar. A lack of concern for how the weather might turn means sitting outdoors isn't given a second thought. He has a notebook out in front of him, the phone he has been observing the network with since his arrival, and he is silently flicking back through archived posts.

He has considered, through the course of the past few weeks, and has come to the conclusion that open communication across the devices gifted to them is something that he does not feel is in his best interest. His ventures into it so far have been measured, but not all have such a level of care.

'We remain unmonitored', he reads, and makes a small note. His pen lingers on the paper, creating a blob of ink at the end of a loop, and he scrolls back until he finds himself unable to do so. A soft sound of mixed irritation and disgust huffs out with a click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He is going to have to get hold of someone else's phone.

Someone passes by and he feels eyes on him, however briefly. He glances up.

"Afternoon."

[ii. sorrow's temple]

He isn't sure what he expected to find, or why this is where he chose to go. His feet led him to the door of the temple of the one they called 'Sorrow' and he pauses on the threshold as King Regis' words come back to him. Like gods, but not gods. Powerful creatures with abilities that would put them at a match with the Six. Ignis had not said it then, not wishing to overstep his place, but it seemed to him that those with the power of gods might well be gods, whether or not they chose to take the moniker.

But why temples? That is the question that led him here. A thing that is not a deity surely has no use for worship, so...

He walks inside. It's open, brighter than he thought it might be, and not as ornate. For a few minutes he explores in silence, dismissing a strange ripple in his emotions as nothing more than misplaced reverence. His hand goes to the pocket holding his notebook, then hesitates against the fabric of his jacket. His next exhale shakes.

Will anything change when they reach Altissia? A reaching hand finds the edge of a seat and pulls his body into it, sitting heavily. A weight wraps around his chest and it feels like such a natural, delayed rise of grief that he barely questions it. The king is dead - no matter how Regis walks in Hadriel now, he is dead - Insomnia is lost, Lucis is lost, and Ignis is not so ignorant of recent politics in Accordo to believe that they are faring much better against Niflheim. He removes his glasses to rub the heel of one hand against his eye and then stills, standing abruptly.

Ignis strides quickly down the centre of the temple and bursts out of it with his breathing unsteady. He turns, looking up, and swallows hard before re-setting his glasses on his nose.

"Fascinating," he breathes out. "Absolutely--..." The notebook comes out again, and he scribbles furiously as he makes his way back to the nearest street, not even thinking to look where he's going.

---

[[ooc: open to him being found anywhere! just drop me a line or drop a top level in]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I find it baffling that they use it at all," she replies airily, replacing the device in her bag. "We don't have anything like this where I came from."

Sending crystals, sure, but not this. This would eliminate the need for ravens, would change... so much about their world.

"Privacy aside," she adds, to his point. "I don't trust that we aren't being overheard and I don't trust the gods, even after all this time."

Ignis nods. He has much the same concerns, which is why he rarely uses the network for anything at all and doesn't believe he ever shall.

"I'm no stranger to this kind of technology," he says, taking out his own device to examine it idly. "But I agree with you wholeheartedly. Something granted by them may be monitored by them, and they have no obligation to inform us if that is the case."

"They have no obligations to us at all," she reminds him, expression unamused. "We may not be their captives, exactly, but we are their source of strength, and they can take that fro us whenever they please."

It's violating, that's what it is.

It isn't something that he needs to be reminded of. Ignis does not like the idea of these beings, whatever they may be, but he honestly likes the idea of the Null even less.

"These.. other beings, calling themselves the Null. How long have they been a problem?"

He hesitates slightly before using the word 'problem', but he didn't get any kind of positive feeling from the Null's words, either.

"What do you think of them?"

"Hmm..." How long? She shakes her head vaguely. "A few months. Half a year is a good enough wager. As for what I think of them, I think that they seem even less trustworthy than the gods, and I wouldn't have previously thought that to be possible."

Yet, here they were, getting messages from particularly sketchy beings who allegedly killed the gods in the first place. It's all a mess.

"What have you heard about them so far?"

An intellectual? Yes. And never deny it.

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