Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
at adventu, we believe that colorful story and plots far outweigh the need for a battle system. rp should be about the writing, the fun, and the creativity. you will see that the only system on our site is the encouragement to create amazing adventures with other members. welcome to adventu... how will you arrive?
year 5, quarter 3
Welcome one and all to our beautiful new skin! This marks the visual era of Adventu 4.0, our 4th and by far best design we've had. 3.0 suited our needs for a very long time, but as things are evolving around the site (and all for the better thanks to all of you), it was time for a new, sleek change. The Resource Site celebrity Pharaoh Leep was the amazing mastermind behind this with minor collaborations from your resident moogle. It's one-of-a-kind and suited specifically for Adventu. Click the image for a super easy new skin guide for a visual tour!
Final Fantasy Adventu is a roleplaying forum inspired by the Final Fantasy series. Images on the site are edited by KUPO of FF:A with all source material belonging to their respective artists (i.e. Square Enix, Pixiv Fantasia, etc). The board lyrics are from the Final Fantasy song "Otherworld" composed by Nobuo Uematsu and arranged by The Black Mages II.
The current skin was made by Pharaoh Leap of Pixel Perfect. Outside of that, individual posts and characters belong to their creators, and we claim no ownership to what which is not ours. Thank you for stopping by.
Just a post opener. Feel free to disrupt him or leave it open for him to find you. His dragon's still lurking outside, but she's cool.
Why should the world exist without me?
The time for scheming had come to an end.
Kuja couldn't say just how long he'd been trapped in this nonsensical world. He could say even less how he'd gotten there, but unlike the other aimless puppets dragged alongside him, Kuja wouldn't stop until the situation had been rectified. He'd spent months gathering information. He'd traveled to every corner of the country researching its every place of power, and with that, he'd secured for himself both transportation and a haven safe from distractions and enemies alike. His home base was more or less livable. He'd gained some manner of wealth from his menial jobs selling charmed trinkets to traders at the edge of the desert. After all of that, there was nothing else he needed but power.
And Kuja knew exactly how to get it.
"Lower." Kuja edged over the side of his dragon, peering at the forest below. A sea of trees rose up to meet him, dark, turbulent, and bristling. His dragon snorted at his command and began her descent towards the treetops. Even from this distance, Kuja could feel the dread of that infernal fog. He saw it creep past branches and pine needles in an all too familiar haze. His neck prickled just looking at it, and Kuja quickly pulled away, scowling in distaste. Kuja had failed to discover the source of the forest's cursed fog, but he knew Mist when he saw it. Somehow, for whatever reason, this place ran thick with the dregs of human souls.
"There." Kuja's eyes caught on a shadow in the distance muddied with fog and crowded by foliage. He directed his dragon towards it, urging her descent as the structure grew closer. She landed delicately in a patch of ivy then lowered herself so that Kuja could slip from her back. Before him stood a structure battered, weathered, and lost to time. This was where the Mist ran thickest, and he'd combed its halls once before in search of the source. He'd never found it, but the structure itself offered him shelter and a certain kind of protection isolated from any would-be heroes who might discover him.
Kuja approached the building cautiously. It was crumbled, certainly, and home to more than a few species of moss, brush, and ivy. From its classical pillars and ornate carvings, Kuja thought it might have once been a temple before the forest had taken it. Now it was nothing but ruins primed for the taking. Kuja raised a hand and muttered a spell beneath his breath. His magic released, and the foliage burned away before him. He stepped through the entrance cautiously, eyes sharp on every shadow and corner. If he wished to make this his new workshop, he'd first need to clear it of any unwanted life. It was, after all, the perfect hideaway for monsters.
By the end of the hour, the ruins were alight with controlled flames and magical residue. Clearing it would take patience, time, and efficiency. Thankfully, Kuja had an abundance of all three.
This place reeked of ill intent. Like every scheme and plot ever dreamed in this world had been cooked up here. How could she put it? Where artists and poets sought certain places to give them certain moods, this was the place to come for unease and despair. Any painting that came out of this place could reach into the darkest parts of the mind. The place itself, however, clung to anyone who entered. Body, mind, right down to the soul.
There was a sickness spreading in the city they called Provo. Sherlotta would've written it off as nothing but a passing plague and skipped town to avoid contracting it, had she not noticed something innately wrong with it. She could tell the infected, and the disease recoiled from her, repelled by the crystal's light. Normal illnesses didn't do that. So, she went digging. She had few leads, but this seemed like a good place to start. It was wrong in many, many ways. Perhaps this apocalyptic weather had allowed something from here to crawl out and fester elsewhere?
Still, she didn't feel like she was getting anywhere with her investigation. Traveling through the forest was arduous. The darkness and labyrinthine depths ate away at one's will to continue. Worse still, she had had to assume her human form, toting a small, shining crystal that floated above her palm to keep the unnatural fog off of her. She had a bad feeling it did more than just obscure things.
Sherlotta had felt something pass overhead. A shadow, colossal and imposing. Soon after, she picked up on the sound of approaching wingbeats, in quick succession. The sound of a creature attempting to land gently. As quiet as she could, she scampered towards the noise, and soon stared directly at the source - A dragon, of all things. What was it doing, just laying outside those... Ruins. She hadn't seen these before. More importantly, the fog was thick and choking here.
Taking a deep breath, Sherlotta turned the crystal she held to dust, and transformed into her more diminutive, feline form. No way she was tangling with a dragon, no. Instead, she took to the trees, creeping above the scaly beast until she had a direct jump to the entrance of the ruins. Landing silently, she spared only a second to glance back, making sure it hadn't seen her before proceeding in.
Paws padded quietly on dusty stones, following the corridors until she came across a source of light, emanating from around the corner. The cat paced up against the wall, peeking in to see a single figure, seemingly preparing for some kind of ritual or painstaking operation.
She remained silent for a while, then walked out to the middle of the doorway and sat, tilting her head with an accusatory glare. She had so many questions right now, but one weighed particularly heavy on her mind.
The temple ran deeper than he’d expected. Without a clock or the light of sun, Kuja couldn’t say how long he’d been at work – exploring, clearing, cleansing, -- but it mattered little to him. He worked to the light of his magic, tireless and unceasing. He discovered cracked mosaics behind walls of ivy, indecipherable runes carved into stone columns, and offering-lined altars that had long since crumbled away. It was all rather mundane for his line of work. He found no secrets, no magic, no legends lurking in long-forgotten shadows. In this place that time had forgotten, there was only shadow, decay, and the ever-present stench of lost souls.
Kuja had always hated Mist. He hated its sickly scent, he hated the tepid taste of it on his tongue, and he hated the touch of it the most – whispering its wordless desires. On Gaia, it was said that exposure to Mist could lead to sickness, insanity, and even death. It was all ignorant nonsense, but Kuja knew the true nature of the evil that idiots thought was natural. Mist was the worst part of souls stripped away and then left to rot. Its whispers could bring out the violent impulses of any human, and that was without the curse of artificial life. For Kuja, the Mist was suffocating. It wanted shelter. It wanted control, and while it didn’t speak in words, he could feel it like a thousand tendrils clawing at the walls of his body. His tail bristled at its touch – disgusting, vile, dead – and while he’d long learned to resist its call, he felt it surround him with every breath he took in this forsaken place.
Perhaps that was why he hadn’t noticed that he was being watched.
He’d seen, heard, and felt no one in the darkness of this place. His dragon hadn’t alerted him of any intruders following behind. And yet, as he inspected the structural integrity of a support beam inside the temple’s lower chamber, there came a voice behind him – insistent and barking in all the wrong ways.
”What are you wearing?”
Kuja tensed at the voice. A dozen questions ran through his mind at once, mostly starting with ’How?’ though occasionally with ’Why?’, ’When?’, or ’What?’. He cursed his own distraction and the obscured psychic link between himself and his dragon. He wondered what on earth someone was doing here (a young girl, if the voice was anything to go by, didn’t she know it was dangerous?) and why they thought it wise to interrupt him. Magic sparked at his hand, but he didn’t dare cast it – not yet. Instead, he straightened, cleared his expression, and turned to face the intruder.
To find…nothing. Kuja blinked, glancing first to his left then to his right, wondering if he’d perhaps imagined it or if the Mist was playing tricks on him before his eyes landed on something lurking in the shadows at less than a foot in height.
Kuja was, in fact, being watched but not in a way he’d suspected. Standing at the other side of the room with its hackles raised and its eyes blazing was a small tuxedo cat.
Kuja raised its eyebrows at it. The thing was obviously someone’s pet from its collar to its bell (how had he missed the sound of it?) to the fat and rather ridiculous bow tied gratuitously around its neck. Kuja glanced around again for its owner, but found nothing hiding in the shadows. His lips thinned. How had a defenseless housecat managed its way this far into a monster-infested forest, and why would anyone have brought it here only to abandon it now?
”Is there someone there?” Kuja tried to keep his voice light and nonthreatening. If there was a lost child somewhere, she certainly wouldn’t show herself if he seemed intimidating. And if she did show herself, well, he’d deal with those consequences when the situation called for it. ”This place is dangerous. You shouldn’t be hiding.”
Sherlotta had to look away to straighten out her face for a moment upon seeing the mage's reaction. He clearly had no desire nor expectancy to be disturbed, and now believed himself to be dealing with a child, of all things. Oh, this would be a fun one. Lingering around in this form meant forgoing the use of her crystals, meaning the fog could get to her... But she could put up with its putrid presence for a little while longer.
The cat noted the shimmer of poised magic between his fingers, even though he made to hide it. When he turned around, however, she suddenly felt a little... Uncomfortable. His dress left even less to the imagination than she had thought and briefly considered whether she should be covering her eyes. In the end, though, she settled for shaking her head and returning to the matter at hand.
"I can't help but think that you don't appear dressed for the weather." She spoke once more, snidely, seeing if he'd actually catch on or continue scanning the corridors for a phantasmal girl. "Although, functionalities aside, a dragon is quite an interesting pet. Pair that with the whole skulking-around-in-cursed-ruins thing and well, don't you just scream nefarious?"
Sherlotta paced into the room, eyeing him cautiously but without dropping her haughtiness, tutting as she saw the eager magic he clutched. "My, my. Were you honestly going to blast away a little girl with that? How cold." Before another word could be said, she darted out another corridor and vanished into the dark, winding around a few corners and transforming while out of sight. Her palm glowed faintly as she formed a new crystal above it, and took what felt like her first fresh breath in several hours.
Reinvigorated, she finally decided to show herself once more, her shoes clacking on the tiles as she re-entered via another corridor and leaned on the archway. "Clearly, you must know what you're doing around here. Or, you're just really, really dumb. Care to tell me what shadowy dealings your doing down here?"
you won't believe your eyes
words: 347 - tags: Kuja - notes: It's a little bit rushed, but it was too tempting.
”I can’t help but think you don’t appear dressed for the weather.” There was that voice again, feminine, young, and hopelessly brash. Kuja’s lips thinned at the words before he realized that they hadn’t come from some distant shadows, but rather, from right in front of him. ”Although, functionalities aside, a dragon is quite an interesting pet.” His eyes landed once again on the cat. He watched it carefully, uncertain. But it couldn’t be…
But it was. The cat had already opened its mouth again, and with it came that voice, barking in time with the cat’s movements. ”Pair that with the whole skulking-around-in-cursed-ruins thing and well, don’t you just scream nefarious?”
Kuja stared at the thing, frozen, mouth almost slack. For once, he was without words. The cat was speaking to him.
It padded around him, looking him up and down with an almost haughty air. Its eyes caught on his hand. ”My, my. Were you honestly going to blast away a little girl with that? How cold.” Kuja blinked and glanced down at his fingers – still sparking with magic. Either he’d forgotten to extinguish it or they’d flared with his own unease. He quelled their power before looking back to the cat and—
Gone. Kuja stared at the empty space where the cat had once been. What on all Gaia and Hell was going on here?
Kuja let out a breath and touched at his forehead. Was he seeing things? He’d heard terrible rumors about the effect of this fog – how it induced ghostly visions in those too engrained in it. He’d dismissed it all as superstitious nonsense, but perhaps it did carry some hallucinogenic properties? It wasn’t Mist after all, and he couldn’t speak to its potency. This would require further tests. Many further tests, and he’d need to make certain the effects weren’t dangerous before he continued work here. But what on earth had he seen?
Footsteps. Kuja jerked to attention, hand raised defensively, but he saw no monster, no cat, no threat. All that approached was, in fact, a young girl. ”Clearly, you must know what you’re doing around here.” Her voice was the same as he’d heard before. The same he’d heard from the cat. ”Or you’re just really, really dumb. Care to tell me what shadowy dealings you’re doing down here?”
Kuja’s lips pursed. There was too much to unpack here and too little he understood. She certainly didn’t seem threatening with her girlish face and garish outfit decorated with far too much ribbon. At a surface level glance, she looked no more dangerous than a child but for the crystal hovering in her hand. Kuja eyed it carefully. He couldn’t be certain as to its properties, but he knew magic when he saw it. Whatever this girl was, whatever was going on, he thought it best to tread carefully. At least for now.
”Shadowy dealings?” Kuja blinked his confusion. ”I have my own reasons for coming here. Scholarly curiosity, for instance.” He waved a hand towards the runes etched into the wall behind him. He’d cleared them of debris purely for aesthetics’ sake, but they at least seemed ominous enough to catch anyone’s interest. ”I came to research the source of this strange fog. To be honest, I’m vastly more concerned for you.” He tilted his head at her, eyes wide with the most genuine concern he could muster. ”Do you need help getting back or can you manage it yourself? I wouldn’t want any harm to befall you.”
Sherlotta tilted her head and stared him through for a good few moments. So it would be the curious scholar game, would it? She'd seen it a thousand times before. It was like their go-to dismissal of any threat. A fair one, two. Most common folk simply didn't have the brainpower to contend with their knowledge and left well enough alone. She had been one of those people, before. Before the very same act tore it from her.
Of course, her stigma could simply have her jumping to conclusions. She could gauge that rather simply, though, by offering him a crystal. It would react to his intent, if he was capable of bearing it - though she had no doubts about his capabilities at this point. Then again, the large, overwhelming chance of him channeling it and assuming some monstrous, godlike form seemed too high a price for such a simple gain.
"Not that I credit my own knowledge above yours, scholar... Though the intrigues of your type have very, very rarely been the same as innocence in my experience. Then again, perhaps you can help me." She closed her hand around the crystal and stepped into the room a pace, clutching it to her chest. The core - her heart - glowed faintly in response. "I'm no scholar, as you can probably tell, though I came to do much the same thing as you. I can't help but find this stuff... Eh, concerning. With all the fuss about plague and disaster, this seemed a good place to start, seeing as the illness that has everyone so worked up is nothing natural."
She examined him further. Trying to get a hold on how he would react. He was certainly wily... He'd played this act for a long time, too many times, it seemed. In his eyes, he seemed to be constantly flitting between options and circumstances. In that sense, the analysis was running both ways. Long periods of silence where they simply stood, waiting to see what the other would do, whether they would give away a shred of their true character.
"More concerned about me?" She scoffed. "How kind of you, though I'm quite happy here. Well. As happy as one can be in a place this... Putrid. To be honest, it reminds me of home. The trees, the solitude, the creeping, highly-toxic, mirage-inducing fog..." Not to mention the countless, innocent dead and lost.
"Perhaps we should start with names?" She spread her arms, the crystal floating above her palm once more. Her free hand gestured inward. "I'm Sherlotta. Currently, miser by trade. Curious by nature. Though, the latter seems to come with the body." Her tail swished as if in response. "And you...? Mister...? Doctor...? Professor...? Maybe, pope...?"
you won't believe your eyes
words: 457 - tags: Kuja - notes: She's just messing with him now.
It had been the wrong thing to say. He knew that immediately, though he couldn't say as to why. The moment the words were out of his mouth, the girl's expression changed. Cold. Careful. Everything that Kuja had been trying to avoid. Then came her retort. "Not that I credit my own knowledge above yours, scholar," she started, eyes flicking to his distrustfully. "Though the intrigues of your type have very, very rarely been the same as innocence in my experience."
Kuja's lips thinned as he appraised her. He was really beginning to loathe this girl.
She stepped forward, clutching the crystal in her hand even tighter. Something in her responded to the touch, and Kuja had to will the curiosity from his eyes. Just who was she? What was she? He didn't have even a guess, not for this mysterious girl with the jaded eyes of an old woman who went creeping about ancient temples for fun. Kuja had never put much stock into age (how could he when his body never changed?), but she looked like she couldn't have been older than seventeen -- and that was pushing it. So what experience was she speaking from? And how exactly did she know anything of his intentions?
Hidden in its skirt, he felt his tail twitch his unease. Or perhaps his irritation. Yes, it was far more likely the second.
The girl explained that she'd come to find the source of the fog. It was believable enough, though Kuja could only wonder was to how she'd stumbled upon the source. He'd used his natural sensitivity for souls to guide him where the fog ran thickest, but what power did she hold to lead her this far? She didn't say, but told him there was some kind of unnatural illness going around that she thought might be related to it. Kuja highly doubted that to be true, but could only tilt his head in interest at the news of such an illness. What had she meant by "nothing natural?"
There was a long silence between them as they each appraised the other. A quiet, contemplative moment as thick with suspicion as the air was with fog. Kuja felt his tail twitch again at the sight of her. Just who did she think she was?
She went on as though she hadn't just skewered his attempted innocence. She said she was "quite happy to be here" or as happy as she could be, given the environment. "Putrid. To be honest, it reminds me of home. The trees, the solitude, the creeping, highly-toxic, mirage-inducing fog..." Kuja eyed her carefully. That certainly seemed...specific. And familiar. What were the chances of a Gaian being sent here -- perhaps one from the Mist-laden lowlands? What were the chances that another world existed that fit those criteria? Either way, it all seemed far too...coincidental.
"Perhaps we should start with names?" The girl spread her arms, allowing the crystal to float freely again. For not the first time, he wondered what it was made of. What were its properties? Its uses? But he banished the thoughts as quickly as they'd come. If the situation turned hostile, perhaps he'd find out. Until then, it was best to bide his time. "I'm Sherlotta. Currently, miser by trade. Curious by nature. Though, the latter seems to come with the body." Something moved behind her. Kuja's eyes caught on it, narrowing as he tried to make sense of the thing.
It swished first one way, then the other. Kuja's stomach chilled at the sight of it. That movement was all too familiar. Far too familiar in a way that cooled his eyes and brought his nails into the flesh of his palm. This girl had a tail.
Kuja's attention was so caught on the thing (What did it mean? Where had she come from? What on earth were the chances of it being unrelated?) that he nearly missed when she asked his name. It was only her mockery that wrenched his attention back to her words. "And you...? Mister...? Doctor...? Professor...? Maybe, pope...?"
His nails dug deeper into his skin. His eyes lit with cool fire. He hated this girl and her every smug, incendiary word. She was a brat, plain and simple, and one that he longed to send flying into the opposite wall on a bolt of lightning. Still, there was nothing to be gained from losing his composure. That would only give her the satisfaction of victory.
So he took a short breath, considered his words carefully, and answered. "I'm known by many trades. Sorcery. Engineering. Arms dealing. Anything that piques my interest, really." He glanced at her before touching at his chin and sending her a cool smile. "My name is Kuja." He kept his eyes on her, searching for any sign of recognition. "It's been a pleasure meeting someone as well-mannered and pleasant as yourself. Truly." He laughed quietly under his breath before waving her off with a casual flick of his wrist. "But as you might imagine, I'm quite busy and I can only guess that you haven't the time to waste either. So I'm afraid I must cut this short. If you would...?" He gestured towards the hallway behind her and fixed her with a pleasant smile that never reached his eyes.
Some inward part of Sherlotta rubbed her hands together with a devilish glee. He was livid and trying so hard to contain it. Catching n'er-do-wells off-guard was one thing, but she so, so rarely got one who was so clearly irritated by her. Still, she had her own work to do here. Well. Work probably wasn't the right word. Snooping around was probably more accurate.
Then again, she still didn't know exactly what it was she was looking for - She was hoping it was a monster. Back in the old days, it was always a big, gross, snarling monster that somehow was the cause of all local problems, usually surrounded by lots of smaller, gross monsters and a whole lot of nonsensical terrain. The point being, killing the damn thing usually solved everything.
But... There were no smaller monsters around here. She hadn't seen any of the telltale signs of a large predator lurking around, so it was looking ever more unlikely that it would be so simple. And if that was the case... As much as she hated to admit, a scholar might be the easiest way to get to the bottom of this. Damn logic. She'd take a big, ugly monster any day.
"You'd prefer I leave?" She asked, leaning against the back wall. "I could, but... We both have our motives for being here. If at all possible, I want to help the sick, and you... Well I can only hope you wish for something just as righteous, but honestly, at this point it doesn't matter." She closed her eyes in calm and bowed her head. "The long and short of it is that you probably know how to decipher this place better than I do. My way generally involves throwing things around until a door opens somewhere, but I don't know how fond of puzzles the ancients are here."
She waited on a reaction, glancing up. He was tense, irked by her preventing him from being productive, and whether he had intended it or not, he had made his stance on pests clear from the outset. So, preempting any violence that may break out, she subtly pulled a random magicite from her pouch - A deep blue hue, blizzard - And toyed with it between her fingers. Seeing as he had just generated magic from nowhere, she doubted his world worked in a similar way, so it would seem little more than child fiddling with a marble.
"The mist thickens considerably as you go deeper, though. Progress would be slow... So in return, I believe I could assist with that. Tit-for-tat, yes? And don't worry, I can be quiet when I want to be. I'll barely be a distraction for you."
Moment of truth, it seemed. Swords drawn or a mannerly deal? She didn't entirely trust him, but his machinations did not seem immediately dangerous... Whereas the plague did. She tossed the marble up twice, and missed the catch on the second throw - by 'accident' of course - sending the small sphere rolling across the floor until it came to a stop at Kuja's heel.
”You’d prefer I leave?” The girl shrugged her shoulders and leaned casually against the wall. ”Well, I could but…” Kuja’s eyes narrowed as the word trailed into implications. But she couldn’t leave without discovering the source of that illness. But she was too ill-equipped to handle it alone. And by the way, wouldn’t he help her get to the bottom of it all? Her eyes glinted with the stubborn will of a zhagnol, and he swore she was three times as unpleasant. This girl was a curse sent from the fates themselves to stand in his way, and she was enjoying every second of her accursed, bull-headed waste of his time.
She watched him as though his reactions were that of an actor beneath a rising curtain -- seeking to entertain. He watched her as though she were a particularly verminous oglop beneath the heel of his boot. Something about her irked him beyond just the scope of her words. Something about her jaded tone far too old for the voice that carried it or the subtle, twitching sway of her tail. It all felt familiar -- far too familiar -- with that smug air of forbidden knowledge beneath a mop of silver hair.
He didn’t trust it.
”You want to delve deeper?” He tilted his head, leaning his chin against the back of his hand. ”Why, I’d hardly recommend that. Who knows what kind of monsters could be lurking in the mist? Or something far worse?” His eyes drifted to the darkness behind her before lingering once again on that pretentious, insufferable girl. She pulled something from her pouch beyond all the ruffles and stripes and hideous ribbons. It glinted blue in her hand when she turned it in the light of his magic. A small stone about the size of a children’s marble.
"The mist thickens considerably as you go deeper, though. Progress would be slow…” she said as though she knew more about it than he did. Of course it would be slow. He’d dealt with it all day and his fur was already standing on end. ”So in return, I believe I could assist with that. Tit-for-tat, yes? And don't worry, I can be quiet when I want to be. I'll barely be a distraction for you."
’Too late,’ Kuja wanted to say, but he was quickly distracted as the girl made a wild fumble with her marble. It rolled towards him and stopped almost precisely at the tip of his boot. Kuja’s lips thinned as he looked at the thing. A useless child’s toy. And this girl claimed she could help him?
”It’s hard to make deals without knowing the details, wouldn’t you agree?” His eyes swept over her again. ”How am I to trust you when I haven’t the faintest idea who -- or indeed what -- you are?” The thought passed as quickly as Mist on the wind. Did it matter if she could help? If he chose to make this his workshop, then he couldn’t let her leave alive. Not someone so infuriatingly persistent. And would it not help his cause to take her deeper where she’d be far more distracted by whatever might lurk beneath?
”Hm. Though it seems you’ll leave me no room for argument, will you?” His smirk came slightly bitter this time. If she simply chose to leave, he’d leave her to his dragon and that would be that. But of course she wouldn’t. He’d somehow raised her suspicions and she’d follow him until the gates of Hell, it seemed.
Well. He certainly hope she appreciated the view once she got there.
”A truce then?” He moved his hand to capture the marble in his magic, but then thought better of it -- kneeling instead so as not to alert her to the extent of his powers. ”If you’re so insistent upon it. Tell me, is this illness really so-?” He touched the marble. Not a stone, but something cold. Something alive. His eyes widened as it flowed through him. Magic. Pure magic like the core of the planet made manifest. He’d only felt this once before when he’d held…
The eidolon stones. His eyes darted back to the girl before he enclosed the marble in the palm of his hand. He willed the expression from his eyes. The confusion, the interest, the excitement -- all of it gone as he straightened again. He’d only frozen for a few seconds. There had only been the slightest indication of his surprise. He musn’t show her he’d noticed anything at all -- but even still, his heart raced with the power of the incredible thing in his hand.
The essence of magic. How was that even possible?
”Sorry. I thought I felt something...odd.” He held out his hand, offering the stone to her again. ”Try not to drop anything on our way, won’t you? I’d hate to be compromised by clumsiness.” His breaths were controlled even as he longed to gaze upon the stone. To study it. What could an accomplished mage manage with this kind of energy? What could he do if he concentrated it down to essence? ”Now then. What were you saying about assisting me?”
There it was. A glare she was all to accustomed to giving out herself. The one shot between two entities as they came to some uneasy agreement, when both of the would rather leave the other strung up from a tree by one limb or the other. She had to admit, though, she was having just a little too much fun toying with this man - He was clearly disgusted by her stalwart refusal to leave. However, the time for such games was drawing to an end - She'd have to exercise some actual caution from this point out.
"Well, unless you've caught on to some breakthrough discovery on this level, in which case I'd be content to simply sit aside and not bother you." She replied to his... Discouragement from going deeper. She just smirked and flicked her hair dismissively. "Meh, a few monsters doesn't bother me. Chances are I've seen worse."
When he noted the marble, she scowled a little, but hid it as quickly as he hid the astonishment at touching it. She was somewhat hoping he'd have ignored it. "My, my, folktales not your forte, sir?" She chuckled. "The black cat, the shapeshifting, the stunningly youthful looks and lofty air?" She only amplified said aura when speaking of it, raising her aloofness comically high. "I'm a bona-fide witch if you ever saw one. I've even been known to boil a few children on occasion."
She wasn't (And she certainly hadn't), but she did so love that role.
Sherlotta grinned when he seemed to come around. Well, as much as one of his caliber could - That is, with the grin of a wolf in sheep's clothing. "Wonderful." She smiled, eerily replicating the look, though more as a warning than anything else. She didn't like stabbing people in the back if she could help it.
"As for the illness..." The girl leaned against the wall once more, falling deep into thought. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before. It seems to attack its victims physically, mentally, I'd even say spiritually. Like it's trying to change them into something much, much different. I haven't seen its end stages, though I'd dread to think... I'll defer to your expert opinion on such matters, but I'd safely bet that something like that must be of magical origin, wouldn't you?"
She watched him examine the magicite with an outwardly cold indifference, then extend his arm back to her to return the item. She stared back for a second, gauging him once more, before smiling politely and closing her palm over the marble, returning it to the pouch. "Thank you. I'll take better care on our way." She looked around for a second, stepping out into the center of the room and examining the surroundings for a minute as he inquired into the nature of her help.
"Oh, that part's the simple bit." She smirked, clasping her palm to her heart and pulling it away again, dragging with a string of luminescent shards. She didn't like exhibiting this particular skill directly in front of people, but she did need his help, at least a little, in this situation. As the hand came down to her side, the shards coalesced into another, shimmering crystal, which pulsed once and held the fog at bay from them. "Among other things, I can clear the air. As accustomed to it as you seem, I imagine some fresh air would do you better than inhaling this mist, no?"
