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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She'd spent the better part of a year coming to terms with this "afterlife", living again in this new, alien world. She kept herself away from connections, from acquaintances, from attachments. It was so much easier that way. Her days had been simple; picking up contracts, going on the hunt, bringing back a trinket of proof to collect her pay in order to live out a minimal, comfortable life reliant mostly on the land. Alone.
And then she just had to run into that girl. Like a bad trip, the solid memories of the girl were fading into this blurry, messy cloud that got worse every day. She still remembered finding her, shivering and drenched from the Reignstorm, hiding from the temple guards. The small flower in her hair. The softness of her voice. The maturity of her mind well beyond her years. Her loneliness, her fear, though she'd never admit it aloud. Last week she'd forgotten her name.
Crowe let herself get close. She told the girl she'd look out for her during some hopeless search for a man she couldn't even describe fully. Guess it was cruel irony to start feeling whatever memory blight affected the precious child. Maybe it was justice. Then, she lost her. After battling beasts and scaling towers, it wasn't enough. Some force had deemed her unworthy at the top of that tomb and cast her out into the snowy ranges in isolation. Weeks went by of searching... She even made it back to the tomb; and nothing to show for it.
At the edge of Provo along a road that led into the main town, the mercenary had taken ownership of a seat within a traveler's pub in the early afternoon. The sun had long since set, but a glass remained in front of her. The bartender had stopped commenting or asking with small prods hours ago. Besides, she kept to herself, not a word and no trouble, if at the least just tense and uncomfortable to the few that had to sit around her occasionally when seats filled at the long bar.
"Oy!" a large, stumbling drunkard nearly fell over to her, glass sloshing this way and that in his hand as his other slammed without much aim onto the counter in front of her and her drink. She froze, hand on her mug and staring forward at it. His friends and those around her stopped conversing to watch, equally curious and wary. "What you doin' this all day for? Eh? I fink that's enough 'o that-," the second his slimy hand reached for her drink, a knife stabbed between his fingers into the counter and pinned his hand down. Slowly, her head turned to the man who did nothing but stare wide-eyed and blink. Intoxicated idiot.
Pulling the knife with a *thnk* from the wooden surface, Crowe looked back to her drink and returned to getting her fill. The man blinked heavily again and took a less-than-calculated step back before his friends helped escort him away to a table elsewhere in their company. The mercenary sunk back into the quiet shroud at the corner end of the bar while the rest of the pub drank and sang along with one another; a mostly-unnoticed still figure outside the rowdiness of the small crowd.
For Crowe it had been a year. For Caius it had been... Well, about the same. Though, he wasn't too sure. It all was beginning to become a blur to him, to be honest. It was as though time was much slower in this world. What felt like weeks, months, maybe even years felt like mere nothing. But maybe he was just imagining it. Maybe after spending all those years fighting daemons, he just still wasn't used to the sun coming up and the sun going down again. After all those years without it, it was still something to see it happen again, and again, and again. But it was there.
But Caius had managed to carve out something of a happy existence in Zephon. It had taken him some time to attain it, but here he was. A mercenary that could finally afford a place of his own, or at least a small one anyway. The leader of a mercenary unit dedicated to helping people to the best of their abilities... Things just felt... Right. Things felt... Okay, for once.
But people still needed help. And Caius had kept himself busy indeed. Not only was he reporting to the Dragonblades, but constantly checking in with the Chosen King Noctis as well, in regards to his activities and if any of them had seen their mutual acquaintance. They had pinpointed that he'd last been to Provo, due to the plague that had spread there, one that definitely resembled the Starscourge. Something that gave Caius bad memories.
Not wanting to rest in Provo if he could, due to the bad juju he got from the place, Caius had decided to instead settle in a pub outside of town and rest before he went in. He had left the dragon Vordun outside, letting the big guy graze and hunt if he wished while Caius cooled down. Vordun had earned his independence by now, and Caius knew he'd be safe. And would be back by the time Caius was ready to set out again. Caius missed having Vordun by his side in the taverns and bars and inns and pubs, but the little guy wasn't so little anymore.
For now, Caius had found a seat at the bar, and ordered a drink. While he did his best to drown out the people around him, he had to be wary too. That bounty was still going on, and any of this lot could see him and decide to collect. He needed a new jacket, he knew, one that had a hood. But that took time and money. Not that he couldn't handle anything that came his way wanting to collect...
-SHUNK-
The sound of a knife's contact made his eyes dart toward two figures nearby who had gotten into it with weapons involved. Caius didn't draw his blade yet, deciding to see how it would play out before getting involved. Breaking up bar fights seemed to be his forte lately. But nothing came of it, and Caius took his drink when it arrived before finding himself a seat somewhere a bit more isolated.
Another drink in and she realized that her head had stopped that slight swimmy feeling, her nose wasn't warm any longer, and her fingers didn't tingle. Whatever buzz she'd accumulated that lasted throughout the day was now wearing off; either too accustomed to it or just slowing down on her intake. Probably the latter. It was becoming increasingly difficult to have a belly full of only liquids and maintain a steady drinking pace.
Maybe she just needed to opt for straight liquor instead of this dry, warm ale. It did its job since the afternoon, but it just wasn't hard enough anymore. She forced her full stomach to down the remainder of the mug before dropping it back down to the counter and looking to the other side of the bar with a half-raised hand. It seemed to be the all-known sign for "I need another". The bartender saw her, nodded, and put down the glass he was washing with a small towel to make his way towards her before she caught something... wrong... in her peripheral vision.
The Draconian. There he was, in his silver, shimmering glory holding a majestic blade through the banner of the hearth. The patch was small from this distance, but unmistakable. Then the man leaned forward... and the "almighty" walls of Insomnia were displayed proudly across the back of his familiar uniform. There was such a shock and panic that flooded through her mind that she hadn't recalled having told her legs to stand and already start marching halfway across the pub. Those that had been seated around her watched with silent anticipation at her laser-focused bee line to the man sitting by himself, but the further away from them she got the less the general crowd minded or paid attention.
Three meters away, two meters away, one meter away- *PMMF!!!* Her balled fist collided with the side of the man's face without hesitation; from step, to reel-back, to attack. She could already hear both gasps of surprise and chuckles from the more drunken of the lot around them, most resituating to give the inevitable brawl more space. Her hands wasted no time reaching out to grab the collar of his jacket with the intention of lifting him up out of his seat. Her existence knew only torment, and it was all this literal god-forsaken crest's fault!
Caius was perhaps lucky he hadn't begun to work on his drink yet, or it would have spilled when someone had come up quietly and struck him. Preparing for another bandit who had decided to try and take the bounty on his head, it was merely a second after his assailant grabbed his coat that Caius was already up -- his gunblade materializing in his hand as he pointed it toward their throat. His finger closed on the trigger as he stared her dead in the eyes, his own expression indicating he was prepared to kill if need be. When he had been struck unawares, his mind had flashed in that moment to the long nights back in Eos... He remembered sleeping in the backseat of that old, run down car. It was there that a looter had forced the door open and struck him hard, grabbing him by the coat with a firearm in hand. Caius had barely woken up and out of instinct, had grabbed one of his own firearms and blindly fired at his would-be attacker, shooting them in the face. As their body fell limp, Caius had realized full well with the weapon in their hand and the brutality he had seen from men just like them, that had Caius been a second slower he likely would have been killed, and had his belongings looted. That was what this world had reduced people to... Something that made Caius increasingly paranoid as the years went by.
He wasn't able to shake that feeling, and it was here and now that it showed. That look in his eyes said he'd kill if need be, but as he regained his composure, he quickly saw that his attacker wasn't holding a weapon. And seemed completely inebriated. His weapon would disappear into thin air then, as he realized this likely wasn't what he had been expecting.
Instead, Caius brought both his hands up the moment the weapon disappeared and gave the woman a hard shove, as forceful as he could with both hands.
"Go back to your drinks" He ordered calmly, yet firmly as he stared hard into her eyes, his own brown irises cold as ice. It was most likely some drunken fool trying to start a fight, but Caius had no interest in dealing with that. Though he wouldn't hesitate to fight back if they tried to strike again.
Maybe she was regretting drinking now, her reflexes not nearly as sharp as they should be, but she couldn't quite decide yet. Her knuckles should've stung with the heavy hit, but instead they were numb. Pros and cons to the buzz. Besides, now there was a physical opportunity to beat the absolute hell out of something that fed her fury. Not just any opportunity; the crest that started it all. This one wasn't familiar, not to her, but there were plenty of the frontliners she didn't know outside of the inner regiment.
There was a moment when his blade materialized that something felt off, but she hadn't realized just yet. It wasn't even a second later that his hard look twisted into something of internal conflict before the blade vanished and she felt herself instead stumble backwards from his shove into a table. It knocked plenty of drinks over, wood clanking on the ground and some glass shattering with it. Most had thankfully already left the nearby table after witnessing her initial, seemingly unprovoked attack, but one or two still remained and got up with curses now that their beverages had been ruined.
"Go back to your drinks." Was that... an order? He was ordering her? He wouldn't even give her the respect of striking back, brushing her off like an annoying bug! It was gasoline on the fire in the pit of her stomach. Her hand gripped the edge of the table behind her and she straightened her fumbled posture, knuckles whitening around the fresh set of bruises that had already begun to swell from the punch.
"You-," the muscles of her jaw flexed into place, the tendons in her neck sharpening the longer she held the sucked-in air that had furiously gotten trapped in her lungs. "You piece of Glaive SHIT!" Not even quite having meant to as fast and hard as she did, the mercenary already felt the spring of her thighs release in a charge-and-tackle towards him, caring very little how hard or where it landed the both of them, heavy and obviously-trained fists reigning down at him where they could.
Caius wasn’t surprised when the woman growled and snarled and charged him with fists flying. This was common when it came to drunk and disorderly and Caius had already planned ahead for the likelihood she ignored his suggestion.
What he hadn’t expected was for her to drop the G word.
While perplexed, Caius kept a cool head and allowed her approach. He could see people stepping forward as if to break up the fight but any who had been considering had clearly been hesitant since the moment it was made clear he could materialize his weapon, not that they weren’t already hesitant after the woman had stabbed a guy earlier. By the time she charged, any who seemed to have thoughts of it had backed down, meaning he was on his own against this armed, drunk and angry wildfire. When she came close enough, he caught her hands in his, using his size advantage to keep the two locked while doing his best to hold her body at bay. He stared her in the eyes.
“Settle down, and answer me this” He spoke in a calm, yet very blunt tone. “Who are you, and what do you know about the Kingsglaive?”
Perhaps it didn’t matter. He’d left that life behind a year ago after all. But if this woman had some kind of grudge against people like him, then it was best to nip this in the bud here and now. And he couldn't help but be curious about this whole thing. Was this woman from his world? What would she have against the Kingsglaive? He doubted it was a grudge against him in particular, because why would they refer to him as his old title? And one that while he had dropped it a few times, it wasn't one he brought up very often.
Her momentum had flung her forward without the best balance, her fists caught in his grasp and used against her to lock her arms in place. All the writhing and yanking in the world wasn't pulling her hands free from him. There couldn't have been less of a care given when he told her to 'settle down', still very much struggling to break free with growls and shouts of rage. Small as she was, she was one hell of a scrapper; a trained soldier and survivor.
"Who are you, and what do you know about the Kingsglaive?" Her visibly-clenched teeth parted only for a second to spit in his face. It wasn't the answer he wanted, but it sure as hell was the answer he deserved. Even that was putting it nicely and giving him too much credit. She spent another good moment focusing her efforts on trying to break free and feeding her anger, the heat in her chest rising further and further from her heart to her core, up her shoulders, down her arms. No, not heat from the rage... Her eyes flicked to a dim, orange glow beneath his grip where her fists were seized. And then? It all made sense.
His appearance, his ability to summon his blade- the magic was back! The magic was here! The same wide surprise left her fist and looked back up to him. A beat. A low hum reverberated from her palms beneath his hands; quiet, but growing, and the glow strengthened. A new sense of hatred had her expression honing down into an angular focus. This power, this magic, she hadn't even remembered what it felt like! The Black energy slowly began to awaken within her veins, creeping back to the surface like withered vines at the taste of water.
An explosion of fire - far greater and less directed than she'd meant - combusted between then, making her retreat away from its heat as well. But now free from his hold, she looked down to the dying, hot orange glow; fingers occasionally sparking between one another with small bolts of electricity or swirling, controlled smoke from the previous fire as the air answered her command. Those surrounding them looked to the both of them now with a nervous uncertainty. Her gaze flicked sharply up to the Glaive standing before her. "You better hope I don't find more of you scum here," Her arms flexed, hands held out before her with palms facing upwards, and they began to glow yet again, her voice a low and rasping threat of passion, "because I'll kill every last one of you."
Caius was being a very patient person right now as he wiped his face with his sleeve disdainfully, but his eyes had changed. But he kept his hold, trying to settle this drunk and disorderly woman down to prevent anyone here from getting hurt. But all of that changed when she suddenly began to use magic. The rising heat tipped Caius off and the Glaive quickly let go and kicked his feet to send him flipping back onto the table to avoid it. His teeth clenched as anger finally began to boil up at this cretin's sheer disregard for the people around her. He needed to get her out of the establishment and away from where she could harm people. He would be able to signal for Vordun once they were outside as well.
He listened to her threats with a stoic, indifferent expression as he stepped off the table. He then looked to the other patrons. "Clear away" He commanded calmly, yet firmly toward them and they didn't seem all that obliged to disobey. Flames began to swirl from his free hand as he held his palm toward her.
"I don't know who you are, nor do I care about any sort of grudge you might have toward my kind. As far as I'm concerned, the matters of our old world mean nothing here" He spoke up coldly. "What does concern me is that you are a danger to everyone here, and if you continue to be then I will have no choice but to bring you harm to prevent you from hurting anyone else."
He had begun circling her as he spoke these words, subtly moving to where his back would be to the door. If she charged at him, he would be able to shift momentum to get her outside he hoped. Once there wasn't anybody in harm's way, he wouldn't need to hold back against her anymore. In truth, he was curious about her motives, but... That was nothing but a trifle compared to the matter at hand.
The human spirit needed foundation. It needed a reason, a path, a goal. Something to give it drive. Hers were all gone, bled out onto the rubble that day in the sun. They died with her. This world, this 'afterlife' - if it even was one - it had pulled her here as an empty shell with nothing left. No love, no aspiration, no sense of being alive. It'd spat her out after taking everything from her. Even her magic. But now, that was back. Her eyes had shut momentarily and her nostrils expanded with a deep and longing inhale. The smell of fresh smoke, the scent of electric heat. She felt ice build beneath her skin only to melt again at her wordless command. The elements had returned to her. Finally, at last, she was being given the chance to make them pay.
No. To make them suffer.
"As far as I'm concerned, the matters of our old world mean nothing here." Her eyes opened, thinning to him and only him as the crowd either moved further back against the walls or frantically made their ways out. "They're the only thing that means anything," the ex-Glaive's voice growled back to him lowly between clenched teeth, jaw locked in a square of rage waiting to be triggered and set free. Even in her anger, she couldn't help but fee the life-surge of the Black energy lifting what every spirit she had left. How cruel and ironic was fate? To bring her here, to strip her bare, to force her heart to beat instead of giving her peace. And now? After she'd allowed that same, damned heart to begin opening to another, tearing that away only to replace it with the means to wreak what havoc she deemed justified. The smallest of smiles raised her lips as she lifted a palm in front of her vision, admiring the warm, humming glow of fire and sparks of blue lightning begging to unleash upon her enemies.
"...and if you continue to be then I will have no choice but to bring you harm to prevent you from hurting anyone else." Her smile faded, earthen gaze flicking from the tips of her fingers to the face so many yards behind them. "You think-," her hand dropped to her side, "-you can kill a dead woman? This is what you made me." A swallow that pressed down her throat was a visible sign of the breaking point she balanced on. "You're the one I want," the look in her eyes focused, sharpening like a knife, and both of her hands extended before her to face the Kingsglaive, "and I'll tear you to shreds no matter what stands in the way!!!" The room flashed with blinding light just milliseconds before the primal, powerful crack of thunder shook the entirety of the building. A bolt meant to harm, meant to punish, rocketed towards him. Glass windows shattered, bottles crashed from shelves, and the smaller, sibling bolts of her attack spidered through the air, shredding through bits of the wooden walls like paper.
Caius knew this magic. He didn't know how, but it just felt so familiar, so nostalgic to him. It felt like magicks that he hadn't seen or felt from someone else in what at this point felt like years ago. In a way, it drew him to her. He wanted to know more about her. Looking into her eyes, he could see pain and suffering, and unyielding rage. He didn't know if he would be able to get through to her, he'd already tried. But Caius was stubborn. About multiple things, at that. Such as what he very much still considered his job.
He listened to her rant. He didn't know what he had done to do her wrong, but it had driven her to a point she didn't care what happened to the people here. While he had said he didn't care about the affairs of the old world, her issue was affecting the here and the now. And that needed to be addressed. She claimed she was a dead woman, he wasn't sure what she meant, but it was certainly ominous. He thought back to Cortez, the necromancer. Was she one of his, come to hurt him even more? If it didn't turn out that way, he wouldn't hesitate to kill her then and there just to spite that bastard. But this woman's emotions seemed real. Genuine.
But all of that vanished for the moment as he watched the magic work its way through her hands. He knew it was coming. She was powerful in magic, he could tell right away. For anyone still remaining in the bar, he called out to them. "RUN!" He barked at them, fierce, stern. Not taking "No" for an answer. He didn't know if he gave the remainder time to run, but all he could think about moments later was survival. His instincts had kicked in and he had dove out of the way as she fired. A blast that very well may have killed him had it struck hit the wall, and spread about, crashing through wood every way it went.
He knew it wouldn't be long before the ruckus awoke a beast lurking outside, and he knew it would be a very angry beast indeed when it realized its master was in danger. He needed to settle this before it got worse. Perhaps not thinking with all the tact in the world, he darted forward as he scrambled to his feet, and took her hands in his with a tight grip. Partly to catch her attention, to get her to listen... Partly to restrict her and try in some way to keep her from casting anymore, to give the survivors time to get out of there.
"Then help me understand" He spoke softly, looking her in her enraged, suffering eyes. "Sit down with me, talk with me. Help me understand how I've done you wrong. Help me understand so that I might make it right" He pleaded quietly, a far cry from the stern and rough mercenary that had been there moments before. But in truth, this was who Caius was deep down. The rest may very well just be a mask.
"I don't want to hurt you or anyone. But if you know who I am, you know that no matter what world I'm in, my job is the same -- and that is to protect. I have no desire to harm you unless you force me to in order to protect the people here. Help me understand what it is that drives you to such means, so that I might help you in turn. If I've done something to the degree that it has brought your rage to this world, I want to know."
