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!
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Amarant stood at the white-sanded edge of this dead-beach, the waters so clear and devoid of life, it almost seemed like an artificial environment. His massive arms were folded across his chest, his dread-locks swaying lightly in the gentle breeze, the man looking out across the water in silent contemplation. The Mercenary had come across few people in his blind wanderings of this world and, in those interactions, discovered little about where he even was and who he was looking for. Figures. Now he had came to this little beach... and he couldn't help but look across it's dead, sterile waters and contemplate this odd world... and how to get out of it. Unlike some who would simply give up and settle this place as their new home, Amarant had aspirations to escape back to Gaia. He would not be held prisoner here and wait for whatever was controlling this world to dictate what he'd do. He wasn't about to just sit back and allow himself to be manipulated into this place's conflicts.
...And if he couldn't find Zidane and company here? He'd find his own way out. If only he could discover the reason why he was brought here in the first place...
Amarant frowned, turning away from the ocean beyond and walking along the beach, his leather boots crunching against the sand blow them. He knew not why he bothered to linger on this beach... There was nothing for him. Not a monster to fight, not the answers or people he sought. It was best if he kept moving, discovering new locations to add to a mental map he was constructing... He had to know the layout of this place to move about efficiently, to understand what locations he had searched and what locations he had not. On the off chance he'd be here for some time, it'd be best to know the layout of his prison-cell...
"Hmph. So Gaia stands alone." Amarant mused darkly as he wandered along the edge of the water, his long arms falling to his side. "If Vivi's here then probably everyone else is. Alexandria's probably in ruins without their queen." He could just see it, the group just goofing around together, playing like there wasn't anything more important, anything of greater value to do. It was most likely that he was alone with no one to trust or rely on...
"Yeah. This is why it's better to be alone." The mercenary growled, as if reminding himself of his own philosophy. "Your own strength is all you need. You get weak depending on others."
Final Fantasy IX
27
YEARS
Agendered
Open
Pansexual
333 POSTS
Fin
Peace is but a shadow of death, desperate to forget its painful past.
Kuja’s nails dug hard into the roots of his dragon’s feathers. He'd drifted from the city in minutes rather than hours. Anything to get away and still he could feel his tormentor behind him. Zidane. Why had Kuja bothered seeing him? Why had he lowered himself to knocking on that idiot’s door? There’d been nothing to gain from it. Nothing but…
A pulse of orange light, delicate and warm. His fingertips hardly a hair from the crystalline glass. He cradled the world in the palm of his hand. Could he really do it…?
Kuja hissed a curse and grabbed at his forehead. Ever since he'd spoken with that doe-eyed puppet, strange visions had churned at the back of his mind like irritable Mist. They'd haunted his dreams, chilled him with their implications and now they rose before him in vivid colors. He’d returned to Terra. He’d killed Garland. And then he’d learned that he was…
Was…
Laughter erupted from him in bursts. He tilted his head and watched the sky through his fingers and a silver veil of hair. ”Such irony! Even you must have seen it, Zidane!” There was that name again. Why couldn’t he rid himself of it? Not now, not then, not twelve years ago when he’d thrown it into the wilderness where it belonged. Had it always been destined this way? That Zidane would live and Kuja would fall? Garland had certainly thought so.
Kuja lowered his hand and let his eyes wander to the horizon. The coast. He didn’t know where they were going -- not really. He’d let his dragon fly of her own will, and apparently she’d felt the shore. A sharp breeze struck him with the scent of seasalt.
He was alone.
”Descend,” he muttered. ”I’m done with this.”
His dragon huffed her affirmation (Irritably. Had he pulled out her feathers?) and angled herself down. Rocky beaches rose towards them at a gradual decline. Once they'd landed, Kuja slipped wordlessly from her back. His heels clicked as he approached the tumbling water. The waves were nearly deafening.
Now he knew the truth.
Zidane had saved him. No, not saved. He’d still died, hadn’t he? But he’d tried. It was incomprehensible. Zidane had won everything he could have wanted -- someone to love, a life on Gaia, endless friends that swarmed to him like fruit flies -- and yet he’d risked it all for nothing. For the chance to reach out his hand.
”I don’t understand you.” Zidane, that mage, why were they all reaching? Part of him wanted to strike them until he drew blood. What right did they have to look at him with such pity? And yet hadn’t he been the one to knock on that door?
His tail lashed where it was hidden. For that moment, there was only him, his thoughts, and the waves.
This is what happens when you let soft-hearted idiots like Zidane lead men of action like me... True enemies are never defeated.
These were the thoughts that flashed across Amarant's mind as the shadow of a very familiar dragon wash over him and the surrounding beach, the warrior's head SNAPPING up to track it, his emerald eyes narrowing in disgust... So, it was true... Kuja WAS here... It had merely been assumptions up until this point, that Kuja had been the one to send them to this place after having survived his defeat at the edge of Zero World. It was the only plausible explanation at the time but now... it seemed like it was the only explanation... As the dragon flew over the horizon, the Red-Headed Man caught the back of the nefarious sorcerer, his demented chuckling raking against his ears and only further drawing down the lips of Amarant in a cold, hard frown.
"Its almost like every mess you make, I have to clean up." Amarant grumbled as he BURST into a sprint after the feathered, white dragon, his leather boots crunching against the hard, rough face of the beach. "I didn't think even you would let someone like him go."
Amarant would come just within earshot of Kuja as the white-haired Genome remarked how he didn't quite understand "you", the large, pale mercenary slowing his run to a slow, casual walk as he caught sight of the world-destroying threat that was Kuja once again. Unbeknownst to Amarant, the two of them seemed to be condemning the same "you" in their own personal utterances, both rivals of the same monkey with almost exact oppositions to his philosophy from multiple angles. However, such simple similarities between two men(?) wouldn't simply spark a moment of calm between them... No, there were too many factors in play for such a... Zidane-moment.
"You don't understand much of anything, do you?" Amarant remarked confidently, responding to Kuja's musing. His low, heavy voice cut across the silent hiss of the surrounding waves crashing upon the shore, breaking the momentary tranquility with an open air of cold hostility. Clearly Amarant wasn't here to exchange pleasantries with an old enemy. He didn't have to raise his claws immediately to make that clear. The air around the man practically dropped several degrees, as if Blizzard had been cast in his vicinity. his Emerald eyes peered out from under his hair like sharp, pointed lights, glaring into that empty, soulless husk Kuja sported.
Final Fantasy IX
27
YEARS
Agendered
Open
Pansexual
333 POSTS
Fin
Peace is but a shadow of death, desperate to forget its painful past.
Kuja's not making the best case for no longer being evil
Why should the world exist without me?
”You don't understand much of anything, do you?"
Kuja stiffened. His eyes crossed with irritation as he repressed a scowl. Now? He wasn’t in the mood to entertain, and for the briefest of moments he fought the urge to simply wave his hand, set the thing on fire, and be done with it. But no. That would only complicate matters.
”Did you want something?” Kuja’s lips soured as he turned to face the interruption. His dragon had at least thought to land on an elevated cliffside over the sand and consequently over any who approached from it. Kuja’s eyes narrowed on the hunched figure below. It was hideous in every meaning of the word from its jarring unkempt hair to its pointed chin to its swollen shoulders and hanging knuckles. It glared at Kuja with an intensity that promised death. Kuja’s eyebrow raised.
”Have we met?” Those grotesque features did seem vaguely familiar. Had he murdered someone the oaf cared for? Perhaps he was Alexandrian? Or Lindblumese? Kuja crossed his arms and touched at his cheek thoughtfully. For some reason, the man reminded him of Brahne. Alexandrian then, or perhaps it was just the mottled blue complexion.
But how had he found him? It seemed like quite the coincidence for an Alexandrian to simply stumble his way. Or had it been his dragon? There weren’t many who knew it. Only the Alexandrian court, the officials of Lindblum, and…
Realization struck him in an instant. ”That’s it. You’re Zidane’s friend. That useless bounty hunter.” Kuja covered his mouth as his shoulders shook with quiet laughter. No wonder he hadn’t recognized him. As far as Kuja was aware, the boor had only ever lurked in the background waiting for something to punch. How or why Zidane had brought him along was beyond him, but Kuja supposed that was his way. Between the bounty hunter and the Qu, Kuja was thoroughly convinced that Zidane had never turned anyone away in his life.
Kuja tilted his head to consider him. As far as he was aware, this wasn’t the strongest of Zidane’s allies and he relied almost entirely on close range. With Kuja’s vantage point, it would take at least a few jumps across the rocky outcropping to reach him, not that Kuja particularly cared. He had absolutely no interest in this little grudge, and he had even less interest in engaging it.
”Funny, I’ve forgotten your name. It’s almost as though you never mattered to anyone.”
"Your head." Amarant would respond flatly, lowering himself into his fighting stance. The look Kuja gave him was an odd one... First was hostile... but impersonal, as if he were interrupted by a complete and utter stranger. T'was as if someone had bumped into the foppish Genome while he was styling his hair, knocking an unfortunate strand out of place! The gaze perplexed Amarant... Perhaps Zidane had taken a little more than Kuja's dignity after all in their final battle. A memory or two lost to him, huh? That's fine. a few more blows and the white-haired doomsday weapon wouldn't have to worry about the holes in his past... or anything else, for that matter. Before Amarant could issue his signature challenge, however, Kuja then asked another question, one just as perplexing as the first!
"Don't remember me?" He remarked, a small twinge of annoyance flashing across his face. One second... two... AH, there it was! Kuja's memory finally caught up with the moment! ...If partly.
"Friend? Don't make me laugh." Amarant snorted, rolling his eyes. "You have more in common with that guy than I do. ...Except that he can actually put up and shut up." Kuja tried to stab into Amarant's heart, remarking how he couldn't even remember his name, how the lone warrior never mattered to anyone... Such a remark might've wounded someone as weak and stupid as Vivi or Garnet... but to Amarant? He might as well had just complimented him! A small smirk would curl up at the corners of the warrior's lips, his massive hands slipping on his claws as he prepared himself for battle.
"You say that like it's a bad thing." He noted with a humored snort. If Kuja wanted to trade insults... that's fine. He could accommodate him. "I guess an empty shell, a failed weapon is good for nothing except battle. Kuja, Zidane failed to kill you when he promised he would. I'm here to fix his stupid mistake."
"Fight me."
Final Fantasy IX
27
YEARS
Agendered
Open
Pansexual
333 POSTS
Fin
Peace is but a shadow of death, desperate to forget its painful past.
The boor prepared his weapons with nothing more than an amused smirk. Idiot. Was fighting really all he could think about? He couldn’t have been less like Zidane if he’d tried, and once again, Kuja wondered why Zidane had bothered keeping him around at all. Kuja had assumed that the man’s brooding silence had been some kind of facade hiding a deeper will, but no. Apparently he was just as oafish as he appeared. What interest he could have possibly had in Zidane eluded him.
And then he returned the insult.
Kuja’s eyes cooled. The laughter died from his lips. 'Fight me?' He looked down at him with every bit of disdain he could muster.
”No.”
It was one word, simple and cold. Kuja pushed his hair over his shoulder and turned away from him, striding instead towards his dragon. He stroked her side and combed through her feathers with his fingers. He didn’t so much as look his way. ”A weapon?” he echoed. ”Good for nothing but battle? I have no idea how you came to that conclusion.” Her feathers parted easily beneath his nails, silver and soft. ”The mind is far more formidable than any sword. Or fists in your case. I hardly had to raise a finger.”
Hardly a finger and the Mist Continent had fallen. Hardly a finger and he’d led them along like puppets. A smirk danced at the edge of his lips. ”You want a fight, find Zidane. I’ve better things to do than entertain a moron.”
Kuja vaulted his dragon in one fluid, practiced motion. She’d chosen her perch for this very reason -- to avoid any monsters or marauding idiots that lurked below. It would take the man time to climb the distance between them, and he wasn’t a dragonknight when it came to reaching him through the air. His dragon spread her wings and took her first few flaps, gathering air beneath them. Kuja spared the boor a cool glance.
”He’s in the city,” he said. ”Do tell him I spared you. A token of my newfound good will.” Kuja’s smirk deepened. ”I’d so hate to provoke his ire.”
Amarant was actually visibly surprised that Kuja would outright refuse his challenge. Kuja, the arrogant spellcaster, who thought his power almighty and absolute would refuse a chance to flex his muscles? Perhaps he should've expected this... After all, for all their destructive potential that he and the rest of Zidane's troupe of misfits had learned of, the race as a whole seemed to lack the stomach for it... Except Kuja, of course... and here he was walking away from a chance to prove it. Images of that fateful night many years ago flashed before Amarant's eyes, that night where a mere 18 year old warrior first encountered the monkey-tailed thief... With only a few well-spoken lies and he was made a wanted man. Amarant could've killed Zidane right then and there for that... but he didn't...
...Unlike that day, however, he wasn't going to Kuja fly away, not after he surely had brought them all here. Much time had passed since their final battle at Zero World, much more still since their encounter at the Lifa Tree. Amarant had grown substantially in that time, honing his skills to finally make things even against the white-haired Genome's kin... And now, he wouldn't be denied using those skills in using them to finish Kuja.
Amarant said nothing as Kuja jabbed at him with his insults like he would with a dagger, trying to stab into a personal place to invoke anger.... None would show. If anything, resolve shined in the hard, emerald gems gleaming out from under the flaming hair of Gaia's Bandit King, the warrior watching as Kuja took flight...
"I'll get to him later... You, though..."
SUDDENLY, Amarant's hands SHOT forward, twin pairs of CLAWS shooting out from each hand: Kaiser Knuckles and Poison Knuckles! Each weapon was Thrown with a LONG, thick chain attached to the interior grip of each, Amarant intending to dig their curved, sharp blades into the WINGS of Kuja's dragon! Should his weapons LATCH onto their targets, Amarant would DRAG the massive dragon BACK down onto the sand with his incredible strength, forcing Kuja too to land atop his wounded beast!
"...You're not going anywhere."
Final Fantasy IX
27
YEARS
Agendered
Open
Pansexual
333 POSTS
Fin
Peace is but a shadow of death, desperate to forget its painful past.
It seemed the oaf had no intention of letting him go unscathed. Typical. Had Kuja the inclination, he could have spurred his dragon in seconds, but such urgency was best saved for a more dire situation. The boor below was not a raging eidolon, fangs bared at its master’s command. No, he was nothing but a moron with a death wish, and Kuja would treat him as such.
Still, he couldn’t help a twitch of irritation at the glint of blades flashing in the sun. Punching daggers? He wasn’t aware of the severity of the situation until his dragon howled in pain. A sneer crossed his lips as blood showered from her side. Had he always tossed blades around? Kuja had honestly forgotten.
His dragon fluttered her wings before twisting herself to the side and giving a forceful flap that shuddered the air below her in a cyclonic wind. It had the duel effect of thrusting her skyborne and engulfing the imbecile in a gale that struck like blades. Chains hung loosely from where the daggers had embedded themselves in her side. She must have ripped them from his hands.
Was the retaliation a tad violent for Zidane’s tastes? Perhaps, but it had been his dragon’s doing rather than his. And really, the idiot had brought it on himself.
”Lost something?” Kuja touched at his lips and trembled with silent laughter. ”Send Zidane my regards.” He tossed him one last mocking look before stroking his dragon’s neck. Her feathers bristled with rage. He could sense bloodlust coursing through her like electricity, but she heeded his command. Now ascended out of range, she spread her wings and soared towards the water. Kuja glanced back at the scene behind him.
Pointless, he thought, but still he couldn’t help a faint swell of unease. Of all the people at all the times, it just had to be one of Zidane’s allies shortly after they’d visited. Kuja’s lips pursed. He had no loyalty to Zidane. Nothing owed. Whatever Zidane had done for him, he’d done on his own volition and to his own consequences. Still, the question hounded him in a frightful echo.
Why had he come? After everything that Kuja had done. After all the pain he had caused him…
Well, if Kuja could point a lost ally in his direction, he supposed that was something like a payment to debt. Even if the company of said ally seemed more a punishment than a reward.
Kuja looked up to the clouds in softened musing. ”Lost alone in Misted skies, song from silent waters rise. Shadows hide amongst the dead, drowned in lights of blue and red.” Kuja combed his hair behind his ear. ”Zidane, your day will come.” Come for what? He couldn’t say, but he felt their song building to crescendo. Perhaps it had always been playing too softly for him to hear.
His dragon angled her wings towards the sun. He had nowhere to go.
