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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Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
’Do it for the mission.’
It became a kind of silent mantra. She’d said it as she’d pulled a dress from its rack and slid it on, wilting in front of the mirror. It draped off her in a slim fit. No dips. No cuts. Only a slight curve where it cinched at the waist. The fabric was overlaid with a ghostly chiffon, and the top was embroidered with lace in the vague shape of a butterfly. All in all, it wasn’t the worst she could have done. In fact, it was nearly unassuming, but it felt wrong. Not just wrong, but delicate in a way she’d always hated. Still, she’d gritted her teeth and had Caius zip her into the thing no matter how she felt on the matter.
’Do it for the Dragonblades.’
He’d come with her of course. She’d have given him a piece of her mind if he hadn’t, and maybe a piece of her sword while she was at it. They’d both received their invitations together, and once they’d finished reeling (and she’d explained the poem to Caius’ understanding), they’d met each other’s eyes with a grim understanding. This was a ruse. They’d decided it at once, and couldn’t be dissuaded. Who, after all, would care to invite them of all people to a formal ball? No one but their enemies in a ploy to catch them disarmed. And they had far too many enemies to count.
’Do it for Caius.’
They’d needed masks. Masks and the accessories for a formal disguise. For Caius, that meant running a comb through his hair. For Celes, that meant tying it half back with a thin braided rope from behind her ears and plating it in silver jewelry where it tied together. Her bangs she’d curled. Her lips she’d lined with red -- her cheeks brightened with rouge. Even her eyelashes she’d blackened clumsily with a miniature brush. She’d grabbed for her sword on instinct, cursed, and then left it in favor of a pair of glinting blue earrings. They were charmed to enhance her magic. Once they were under attack, it was all she’d have.
’Do it for Torensten.’
The garden had spread before them like a fairy tale. Here was the winding cobblestone path. Here were the stringed lights and the silver gates topped with spokes that curved like ivy. The path was lined with hedges and bushes dotted with flowers that led to a three-tiered fountain. Crickets hummed among the leaves illuminated by passing fireflies. Celes stood struck by its beauty, and in the back of her mind rang the words ’this shouldn’t be real.’
’Do it for the people.’
They drifted past her carelessly, chittering like birds. They wore gleaming silken dresses, ruffled suits, and golden bangles. Celes stood to the side, failing to find something to do with her hands. Under attack, these people would be helpless, and the party’s ‘no weapons’ policy would strike even the most battle-hardened in the back. These people were innocent. Irritating, maybe, but innocent and she’d do anything if it meant standing between them and the wrong side of a blade. She kept her eyes peeled for trouble and her fingers where her sword should have been, and yet…
They were too close.
Too close. Too loud. She felt them press in around her. Saw the squares of dancer, the migrating crowds, the laughter she could’ve heard from a block away. It was like an itch at first. She edged away, her eyes flashing danger to any of the half dozen men who approached her offering their hand. It itched, pulsing with every clink of a glass or shoulder brushed across her bare skin. The lights were blazing in the darkness like a bullseye target. With every pulse, her thoughts tinged with color.
Red flames. White light. The blue of the ocean rising to meet her. And above, the hum of magic as it gathered its heat to-
Celes shuddered. These people were wide open -- just asking for his judgment. Kefka’s judgment. If they were too loud. If they were too bright…
There was the squeak of a heel, a laughing cry, and a man stumbled into her. Celes shoved him away before she could think, skittering back so fast that she hit another wall of flesh as a woman tripped and fell over her own heels. Someone told her to watch herself. The man was apologizing.
Why couldn’t she breathe?
Celes squeaked something about needing air as she darted away. She had no direction in particular -- just away as her cheeks heated and her heels clicked madly against marble floors. She dashed through one door and then another until a cool wind met her and the tiles switched to cobblestone. The garden. She wound her way through narrow paths, wincing at every couple she found giggling over each other along the way. Finally when her space was her own, she stopped.
The dry earth. Kefka’s judgment. The blood on her hands.
Celes gave a shuddering breath as she lowered herself to the ground. Her dress tangled around her. Her mask smothered her cheeks with white lace. Verdant leaves pressed in on her with a heavy perfume. Roses.
”This shouldn’t be real,” she muttered -- the words she hadn’t let herself think in ages. ”This shouldn’t be real. This is all-” She swallowed and pressed her eyes into the back of her hand. Beyond her, the manor rang with the distant trill of violins.
Seymour had made his preparations for the Masquerade Ball in a swift manner. His robes were elegantly woven and neat, dawning a navy blue color. It wasn't the usual robe he normally would wear, however it made the Half Guado look extravagant nonetheless. Hopefully there wouldn't be people who would gawk over him like the people of Spira would normally do. Seymour could be humble in appearance, however it was all a mere facade to what he was truly like. Even though he was not in Spira anymore, his plans had not changed. He still felt it was his duty to rid people of their suffering by means of silencing them into sleep eternal. He had wished that Lady Yuna would have come to see reason, however his previous defeat by her hands had proved otherwise. He did not believe his coming back to life - his rebirth was made out of luck, but rather by divine intervention of some kind. He believed he was destined to see his plan be completed. He needed strength as well as information. Those were the two key reasons he had decided to come to the Masquerade. It was rather easy for him to walk in plain sight since he had not encountered anyone from Spira. The thought of others appearing in this realm from his homeland did cross his mind. But if he were to encounter anyone and they show defiance, he would simply kill them.
He had thought that by being unsent, his plan would near completion flawlessly. However he had come to terms that being unsent clouded his judgment. No, he decided he would go about his plan by means of a ... Different approach. Looking back at it now, being Unsent wasn't actually planned. He had actually hoped to kill Lady Yuna and her Guardians at Macalania. However they somehow bested his power. In order to prevent that from happening again he needed to forge a group of the strong who would crush the world of Zephon's suffering. It did not matter if it was Spira or not. What mattered to him was to form pillar that supported his plan. Even if he did not make progress in that regard at this event, he would wait for the opportune moment. He was a very patient man. Hastening his plan would only result in more failure and that cannot happen.
After showing the guards his invitation to the event, he was allowed to enter. There were many people attending the event. Most were dancing in the center of the gigantic room, smiles lighting their faces only to hide their suffering. Seymour found it a pity. Then there were people who hid there suffering by eating the food as well as those who drank alcohol to hide their aching hearts. Truly, such a pity. If only they could see what his plan truly meant for them all. It would lead to peace, never having to suffer ever again. As Seymour walked into the room more, he had noticed a woman who was ... Different than the others. She wasn't having a great time like the others. A moment later, she had ran out towards what had seemed to be the Gardens. Seymour was curious to what was ailing her so feverishly. A woman had come up to him as he had made his way to the Garden, however he had politely declined. This was because he was moreso interested into the woman - namely what was troubling her. In the half Guado's twisted mind, him being the one to end all suffering by ending all life was to understand one's suffering. This was why he was interested in her.
However, no one knew what Seymour was truly thinking, nor would they ever understand his devotion to his plan. However, there was still hope people would one day understand. He had stepped slowly out into the Garden area, a path of cobblestone laid about before him. He began to search for her, beginning to walk the path. A few moments later, he found her on the ground sensing her dismay. He didn't mean to make it seem like he had stalked her, however he simply couldn't resist coming to her aid. Even though his ideals were not that of an actual savior as one would think, he still believes he is one. "Are you alright, Miss?" He asked gently, his words creating a sense of tenderness. He stayed where he was, not wanting to cause her more alarm. "I saw you in the Ballroom as I had entered. I could see you were troubled and where I come from, it's a duty of mine to help others who are hurting." He explained briefly. He walked to her, creating a gentle smile on his face. He outstretched his hand in order to aid her to get up from the ground. "Such a beautiful woman as yourself shouldn't wallow in sorrow alone," He said. He wasn't expecting her to be forthcoming, however he just simply couldn't allow her to suffer in her own pain.
Final Fantasy VI
22
YEARS
Female
Complicated
Heterosexual
429 POSTS
Fin
Use your own eyes and see for yourself whose side I'm on!
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
”Are you alright, Miss?”
Celes froze. In that moment, time stopped cold. What was she doing? Someone had seen her. So, so many people had seen her, and here she was collapsed in the middle of some strange garden like a mad woman. A silly mad woman at that, too blind with hysteria to think straight. Was she crying? Her hand came back dry. There was still that, but that was all there was. Her dignity had been shot from here to the moon.
”I’m, uh.” Her voice cracked. What was she supposed to say? She winced and added a weak, ”Your duty?”
She looked up at him sheepishly. He was, well, to say he wasn’t what she was expecting would be an understatement. He was dwarfed in strange robes even as he towered over her in all his beading and silks and embroideries. His hair was a vivid blue slicked back except for a corkscrew fixture in front and two impossible curves out to the side that she swore were antlers. He offered her his hand, and her eyes flicked to a set of spindly fingers like talons.
The whole effect should have been monstrous, but there was something else about him too. He had a slight face and a lithe figure that was exceedingly exposed. She felt heat rise to her cheeks as she met his long-lashed eyes. Violet.
”Ah?” She froze, staring at him. Beautiful? For the longest time, her voice was stuck her throat -- any words strangled as she struggled to find a response. ’Wallow in sorrow?’ Was that what she was doing? It was like something that Edgar might have said with a bow and a cheeky little wink, but there was no sign of irony here. He meant it really and truly.
Here was a woman in distress. Here was a woman wallowing. Here was a woman -- beautiful.
”I don’t need help,” she said. She cleared her throat. ”I was-,” What? What was she doing? Running away? Feeling sorry for herself? Her cheeks reddened further. ”I needed air, that’s all.”
She pressed her palms against the cobblestone and pushed herself upright. She tottered a little in her heels, and she waved her hands for balance. The stupid things. She was used to the heels of her own boots, but these were thin, fragile things with long stems like champagne flutes. Perfect for a silly damsel like herself.
”I’m fine,” she said, and then met his eyes again with a weak smile. She supposed it wasn’t his fault for checking up on her. It was sweet, really. Even if she hadn’t needed it. ”It was just a little much. All the people. I’m not used to it.”
The half Guado had expected the woman's reaction towards him. She seemed confused as to what he had stated earlier; not in the sense one would normally think. It seemed that she was moreso confused as to the 'why'. She had a sheepish glow about her, which Seymour had also expected. "Forgive me. I do not mean to frighten you," he said, taking a step back, giving her respect for her space while also doing the prayer of Yevon to her as a sign of greeting. "My name is Seymour Guado. It is a pleasure to meet you, miss," He said, standing up straight once more after doing the prayer. Even though he was not a Maester of Yevon anymore, he still followed the teachings of Yevon. Or at least ... The way he had envisioned the teachings to be. He held his gentle smile to the woman, beginning to speak once again.
She had reassured him that she was alright, however Seymour knew very well that she was not. However, Seymour would not continue to pry. That would make her more uneasy than she was to begin with and Seymour had a sense of respect in that regard. "I understand how you feel," he said, looking up at the starry sky. In a way, he actually did. It wasn't the exact same, however Seymour never liked people praising him so casually when he was the leader of the Guado as well him being a Maester. He was but a simple man whom was making sure his duty was fulfilled. However, he kept his agenda to himself still. At least for now. "If you would prefer, we can stay out here and enjoy the beauty of the Garden and the starry night." he said, reassuring her that he won't drag her back inside. Seymour also found the garden to be more peaceful as well as appealing rather than inside where everyone was dancing and drinking.
Seymour had seen colored roses alligned on both sides of them. One particular colored rose had caught his eye though unlike the others. It was a winter rose. It's pale bluish color glowed from the moonlight coming from the sky above them. Seymour had picked one of the winter roses from the bush. He had made sure there weren't a lot of thorns on it's stem before plucking it from the bush. He then returned his gaze back to the woman offering it to her. "A winter rose that glows so beautifully deserves to offered to a woman such as yourself. A winter rose, despite it's fragile looking color, is a symbol of strength. Please, accept this winter rose as a token and know that you have strength in your heart," the Half Guado had said to her. His words were gentle, but yet there was passion that had burned brightly from them. It was a means to comfort the lady so that she would find the strength she had all along. Seymour had only just met her, but if Seymour knew anything about people, it was that such words would give people like her strength.
However, Seymour was not actually the man this woman presumed he was. However, what she did not know would not hurt her. That was what he had thought at least. He wanted to ask her what her name was, howevee he thought asking such a question after her being in such distress would be offensive. For now, he would simply keep her company in the garden away from the other guests. Seymour had actually thought of killing her in order to ease her suffering. However, doing so would be too risky. Instead, he decided to play the role of a simple kind-hearted gentleman who was but a guest to this event as she was. There would always be time in the near future to carry his vision, but now was not the time.
Final Fantasy VI
22
YEARS
Female
Complicated
Heterosexual
429 POSTS
Fin
Use your own eyes and see for yourself whose side I'm on!
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
’Frighten?’
”Oh no, I’m not-!” Celes started, but what was she supposed to say? Did he mean he'd startled her? Or had he noticed how she’d looked at him?Shame heated her cheeks mixed with her own embarrassment. She must have been blazing red by now. Nothing but a damsel. She wished she could sink into the ground.
”Oh, I’m…” She almost said General then stopped. ”Celes. Thanks.” He spoke so eloquently that her words sounded stilted in comparison. Or was that the nerves? She watched him do some kind of strange motion with his hands ending in a formal bow. Was she supposed to return it? She smiled awkwardly.
”You don’t have to stay with me,” she said. ”I’m fine. Really.” It felt strange, standing beside this man who spoke like honey. She’d never seen anyone so composed or anyone so graceful. Where had he learned it? Celes couldn’t help a curious glance.
Mysterious. That was the right word for him. He was mysterious and exotic and unknowable. Was he flirting with her? Honestly, she found it hard to tell.
At least until he handed her a rose.
”Oh.” Her eyes flicked from the flower to his eyes then back down again. Beautiful? Fragile? Strength in her heart? Her stomach turned with something nauseous and she felt her cheeks blare again. ’Don’t correct him. This is your cover, isn’t it? You’re supposed to look weak.’
”Wow.” Her lips turned into something like a smile. ”It’s nice.” She took the rose and looked down into its sweet perfume. It really was pretty if she told the truth. It was white and blue and the petals were like velvet. Was this how women acted? Was she being wooed?
”I’m not used to this kind of thing,” she said. ”The parties, the people, this dress.” Celes glanced at him sheepishly. ”Where I’m from, there’s none of it left.”
Really? Was that the best she could do? The truth felt better than some girlish fluff.
”Are you from around here?” she asked though she knew he couldn’t be. ”I still find it strange.”
Seymour listened to the woman's reaction. Perhaps he was mistaken as to his assumption of him starling her. In all honesty, there were some Denizens of Spira who would be starled at the appearance of a Guado, although the conflict between man and Guado had ceased in his world. It was then that the female had addressed herself as Celes. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Celes," he said with a gentle smile still there on his face, his violet eyes showing kindness. Yet, behind those eyes as well as the smile he held, there was a hidden darkness that he naturally would hide. Doing that was second nature to him. Quite frankly, this natural ability of his to hide his true self from others allowed Seymour to kill to birds with one stone and hide it soon after.
He was a wolf hidden under the wool of sheep that he had slaughtered, and to be frank, Seymour embraced that about himself. If not, how would he ever achieve his goal to rid the world of it's sorrow? To him, the answer to that question was rather simple. He wouldn't be able to. In his opinion, no one would achieve their goals if they did not accept their true self. Soon after, Celes had began to explain how she had felt about being here in this place - the masquerade namely.She confessed to him that she wasn't used it all, and that was when it had started to make more sense to him when she had explained that she too was from a different world.
"Aah, I see. It can be quite disquieting when someone is in a situation like this." Seymour had said. It was then that Celes had asked the half-Guado if he was from Zephon. Seymour, still holding his light smile, shook his head gently. "No. I am not. I come from a place known as Spira," Seymour said, not afraid of telling Celes where he had originated from. After all, there was no harm in telling her.
Final Fantasy VI
22
YEARS
Female
Complicated
Heterosexual
429 POSTS
Fin
Use your own eyes and see for yourself whose side I'm on!
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
”Spira.” Celes frowned. It wasn’t unusual in the slightest. If Seymour had claimed to be from around here, Celes would have laughed, but there was something about what he’d said that caught her interest. A word. She’d heard that word, hadn’t she?
”That’s...somewhere.” Celes bit her tongue. ”Somewhere without a lot of cities, isn’t it? Where did I…?”
Hear that? The thought buzzed just out of reach like an irritable fly. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to catch it. What did it make her think of? It was a different world than this. Somewhere with temples. And swords. And magic…
Magic. Her eyes lit up in recognition. ”Yuna!” She turned to Seymour with a new sense of interest. ”I know someone from Spira. Her name’s Yuna. I’ve been working with her for a while now. She’s a brilliant mage.”
And she didn’t give compliments lightly. Yuna was a healer who could show even Celes a spell or two. She’d been kind and meek and, well, brilliant as far as Celes was concerned. As a medic at least. Celes had never quite had the same gentle touch.
”It’s funny. I don’t think she’s met anyone from there since she came.” Celes shook her head. What were the chances they’d meet someone at a party of all places? Then again, Celes didn’t put much stock in odds anymore. ”She said something about needing to get home. Well, don’t we all? But I’ll have to tell her you’re here. Seymour, wasn’t it?”
It was then that Seymour had gotten quite a useful bit of information from the woman that would have never had expected to here. This woman ... She knew Lady Yuna. A smile had formed on her lips, deciding to continue this little charade of his. Just for a bit longer at least. There would always be a time and a place to reveal his inner canvas, however this exact was not the time to do so. It's a good thing I did not kill this woman then ... She will be the pawn for me to get to Lady Yuna. Seymour had begun to speak acting slightly surprised. In all honesty, to say he actually was would truly be a lie in its own right.
"You know Lady Yuna?" He had asked Celes. He made it sound as if it were dire importance, while continuing to hide his true nature. "Lady Yuna holds the fate of Spira's Future in her hands. Nothing bad can happen to her. Please, tell me. Is Lady Yuna alright?" Seymour had asked. From what Celes had said to the half Guado, it had seemed that her and her Guardians had separated from each other upon arriving here in Zephon. In all honesty, this made Seymour's task easy as well as difficult all at the same time.
With Lady Yuna being alone and away from her Guardians had made her vulnerable, however if he knew her Guardians well enough, they would randomly appear like moths would to a flame. If Seymour more could play his cards right, his goal of revenge would play out splendidly. What's more it would all be thanks to the woman before him. He would definitely be sure to return her the favor once his revenge had been enacted out. However, even though this turn of events was big for his intentions, Seymour was not blind from the fact that this was just a mere stepping stone nonetheless. "What of her Guardians? Why are they not with her?" Seymour had asked as if he sounded concerned.
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
”You know Lady Yuna?” His eyes lit up at her name. Well wasn’t that a coincidence? ”Lady Yuna holds the fate of Spira’s future in her hands. Nothing bad can happen to her. Please, tell me. Is Lady Yuna alright?”
Celes felt her eyebrows prick together. She had questions. Somewhere between five and fifty of them, actually, but she didn’t know where to start. Was Yuna really that important? How could she hold the future, and how did they know each other? Yuna hadn’t seemed like anyone special to her. Well, not more special than a skilled healer and a kind woman. She’d tried her best to teach Celes the finer points of white magic, and Celes was grateful no matter how much she’d fumbled. No matter how skilled her magic, Celes could never learn Yuna’s gentle touch.
”She’s fine,” Celes said. ”Well, as fine as she can be when she’s as lost as the rest of us. I got the feeling she was in trouble when I saw her, but I think she’s safe now. She seemed happy about the-” Celes’ tongue caught. About the party. Yuna was here somewhere, but did she really want to let on about it? She didn’t know this man. She’d never heard his name from Yuna either. Celes glanced towards the mansion’s glass doors. Could she slip away to find Yuna in time to ask? Surely, the man could wait an hour?
”Well, she seems happy.” It was a lame answer. She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
”I don’t know about any guardians,” she said. ”I guess that would be me and Caius now? She came through alone. Like I said, I don’t think she’s met anyone from Spira.” She didn’t ask why she’d been guarded. Something about having a future in her hands, she guessed. Was she some kind of noblewoman? It wouldn’t have surprised her.
”Well, it was nice meeting you.” Celes gave him an awkward smile. If she wanted to find Yuna in this crowd, she couldn’t waste time. "I'll be sure to tell her about you.”
