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.
I'm pretty sure it is literally impossible to faze him
I play the leading man, who else?
Balthier had never been much for prisons.
He remembered his first arrest on the streets of Nabudis. He’d been nothing more than a petty thief at the time, stealing what he needed at gunpoint and using the extra proceeds to upgrade his ship. He’d been terrified as the guards had folded his arms behind his back and led him to that dark and muggy pit below the city proper. That first night, he’d hardly kept his wits, but once he’d composed himself the whole affair came to him with sudden clarity. The prison was a machine, and like any machine, it needed its parts in place and its gears oiled. It had its stress points, its weaknesses, and its cracks about to break. The place was a puzzle -- the stakes, his life. He had only to solve it.
Balthier hummed to himself as he tested the bolts of his cell door. It was a makeshift prison set below the streets of Torensten in a labyrinth long forgotten. Not two days ago, he’d slipped inside the subterranean manor with his eyes set on the valuables within. As it happened, the estate belonged to a faction of zealots worshiping their own draconic god. They hadn’t taken lightly to intruders.
The bolt was rusted. The one above was too tight. Balthier sighed and rested his wrists against his knees. His cell had once been a spare room of some sort, and its former opulence still reflected under the dismal overlay. The walls were adorned in crown molding, the floors were made of smooth tile, and empty candle-holders were bolted into every corner. They’d removed the bulk of the furnishing leaving only a table, a chair, a pot, and a pile of linens behind. The door they’d removed and replaced with slat iron bars inset into a metal frame. Apparently they’d made a habit of hosting unwilling guests. Balthier didn’t care to wonder why.
He’d had worse, he thought. The cells of Nabudis, the desert pit of Dalmasca, and on board the ships of rival sky pirates who hadn’t taken to his meddling. Even their interrogations were weak in comparison. He’d been taken alive to reveal the name of his employer, and he’d come back with only a few violet bruises for his trouble. Of course, he hadn’t had a benefactor, but he wouldn’t let on that easily. He knew the exchange well enough. It wouldn’t do to show his hand.
”Quite the puzzle,” he sighed. He thought he could pry the candlesticks from the walls. The rusted bolt was weak enough to break under pressure, but the ones above it…
Footsteps. Balthier froze before pushing himself away from the door. He sat with one knee pulled up, leaning back casually on one palm. As the footsteps rounded the corner, he glanced towards the door, one eyebrow pricked in mild interest.
It wouldn't do for his hosts to see him rejecting their hospitality.
Oh, he didn’t mind being called in to deal with a threat necessarily, but he’d come all the way out here only to be told that they’d already handled the problem. Ugh. Why even call him in the first place if it clearly wasn’t serious? He had half a mind to complain to X herself, but he doubted that she was even present in the underground right now. He’d been told that the prisoner was locked up in the west end after all, and if Genesis had learned anything of X so far, it was that she was nothing if not efficient. The man would likely already be decomposing in a river if she were around. Unless she wanted something from the thief alive, of course.
It was the second possibility that drew Genesis’ curiosity.
There were two guards at the end of the hallway, but if they were alarmed at Genesis’ approach, it was only for the black wing trailing out behind him. The silver dragon mask that he wore mirrored the two that they had after all, so while they stopped him, they didn’t seem to be suspicious that he shouldn’t be there. Being X’s new favorite had its perks, it seemed.
“I’m to try my hand at him seeing as you lot haven’t had any results yet,” he said dismissively, with a dramatic wave of his hand. It was a pure bluff based on speculation of course, but it seemed that he’d guessed correctly. After a litany of Loveless quotes to follow his explanation, they seemed exasperated enough to let him pass. It wasn’t as if he and the prisoner were going anywhere anyway.
Genesis approached the makeshift cell, scoffing a bit at how the metal bars had been placed over a doorframe. Amateur work. Genesis himself had managed to install an entire cell block in an underground cave, so this room was really a poor showing with all of the cult's resources “So this is what passes for a cell here? I had wondered,” Genesis mused aloud, trailing one finger over the iron as he peered inside to lay eyes on the thief. The view wasn’t what he’d expected.
Styled hair--if a bit rumpled--fell into piercing hazel eyes. The man sat in a casual position that suggested he was refusing to show weakness, and Genesis’ eyes drifted from the jewelry at his ears to his tight-fitting vest and pants.
No one had told him the thief was handsome.
“Ripples form on the water’s surface. The wandering soul knows no rest,” he said with a laugh as he reached up to remove the dragon mask from his face. He flicked his red hair behind him to smooth it back before leaning casually against the cell door, his mask held under one arm.
“Seeing as you’re not anonymous, it hardly seems fair if I get to be,” he explained with a faint smirk, watching the man with some interest. “So you must be the thief that has them so up in arms. I’d be curious to hear what you stole. They appear to be keeping it rather on thedown-low.”
More than that, he was approached by someone entirely new. Balthier’s eyes pricked from his windswept hair to his heavy jacket to the straps of leather crossing what seemed to be a black sweater. Then he saw the wing. Balthier’s eyebrows raised.
Well that was new.
”So this is what passes for a cell here?” The man ran a gloved finger down the bars, and Balthier perked with interest. What was it that he could see from the outside? A weakness no doubt. Perhaps if Balthier examined it with a new pair of eyes…
The man only had eyes for him.
Balthier’s brow pricked higher at the man’s interest. Rather than being looked at, it felt as though he were being looked through with a kind of smouldering intensity that Balthier couldn’t quite recognize. After a moment, the man laughed.
“Ripples form on the water’s surface. The wandering soul knows no rest.” The man removed his mask with one hand, eyes glinting with his mysterious amusement. Balthier wasn’t particularly fond of the ambiguity. Not when he was in such a precarious position that was.
”I didn’t think your lot much for candor.” Balthier watched him carefully. Whatever the man intended, he only intended him as a pawn in his game. Balthier intended to play it well. ”You’re not high among the ranks, I take it. I’d be careful unless you’re fond of treachery.”
Balthier uncurled himself and stood, stretching his neck first one way then the other. In truth, he’d grown rather stiff perched at the edge of that door. The conversation would do him some good.
”They're called Bahamut’s Eyes,” he said. ”I took them from an effigy in your altar room. A lovely place -- if you’re taken to blood that is.” Balthier crossed his arms, hip cocked to one side. ”Needless to say, your friends didn’t much care for the loss. It seems their eyes have more worth than the gil they’d take at market.”
The man seemed content to merely eye him in suspicion for a moment, but when he finally spoke, it was with a rolling accent that Genesis wasn’t able to place. Unsurprising really, since it was impossible to say whether the man was even from Zephon or whether he was from some far corner of the multiverse like Genesis himself was. Regardless, he rather liked the brunette man’s voice. It somehow completed the package by making him sound quick-witted in addition to his handsome appearance. Whether he was actually anything more than a striking face remained to be seen, of course.
“Oh, I wouldn’t rely on me much if you’re looking for candor,” Genesis said as he continued to inspect the iron bars separating them. “But you’re right. I’m rather new to this whole affair.” He could have laughed at the man’s warning—he knew very well that he’d need to tread carefully here. X was certainly not a person to be crossed lightly, but Genesis didn’t intend to do anything blatantly against her yet. Still, he couldn’t resist the ironic smile that rose to his lips when the man asked if he were fond of treachery.
“My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment to find the end of the journey in my own salvation and your eternal slumber,” he quoted fondly before tilting his head as the man finally rose to his feet with a mild stretch. It seemed that he’d finally decided to make this a face to face conversation. It was about time, really. Genesis hadn’t removed his mask for nothing.
The prisoner started to explain what he had stolen, and Genesis felt his eyes light up in interest. Bahamut’s eyes? Perhaps they were quicker along to summoning the great dragon than X had led him to believe. Genesis wasn’t really surprised if he'd been misled. She was no fool. If she had any ounce of observation skills, she had probably seen that his interest in their operation had far more to do with the summon’s power than with any pious devotion or scholarly pursuit. There was only one goddess that Genesis served, after all, and he’d seen no trace of her here.
“Oh yes, pity that,” Genesis waved aside the man’s obvious concerns about what went on in their altar room. He had never personally stepped inside it yet, but he could guess as to what kind of rituals were performed. It hardly bothered him though. Genesis generally had a hard time caring about things that didn’t immediately affect him, and he was far more interested in these eyes at the moment.
“I imagine we were livid. I’m amazed you’re still alive,” he said with a slight laugh. “Luckily, I can guess as to their use.” He shifted his position a bit to support the wall near the makeshift cell instead. “I take it you were simply in it for the gil?” That somehow made this situation even better, and Genesis glanced down at his silver dragon mask a bit thoughtfully before he spoke again. “Tell me, what do you know of Bahamut?”
“My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment to find the end of the journey in my own salvation and your eternal slumber.”
Balthier’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the sound of that, and he didn’t like the sound of the mysterious man before him. He seemed haughty and unpredictable. He had his own agenda -- there was no doubt about that -- and he relished in it. For some reason, he found riddles to be the best means of expressing his pleasure.
’Corrupted by vengeance.’ Did he mean to avenge himself upon his leader or upon Balthier himself? It remained to be seen.
But the interest in the eyes. That was promising.
”A matter of luck.” Balthier’s hip tilted to the side. In truth, luck had little hand in his current survival. Instead, he placed that honor more accurately upon his fortitude and general lackadaisical demeanor. No matter who the man sought his vengeance against, the cult had landed it squarely upon Balthier. They’d break him before they ended the game. ”A delicate profession, thievery. My patron pays the gil, and I pay the price.”
Balthier tilted his head, watching the man with a careful eye. He was, as he said, unreliable in candor. It was just as likely that Balthier was dealing with some manner of the cult’s tricks as he was with an honest traitor. He would have to play his cards carefully.
”A lovely fellow, this Bahamut. In truth, I haven’t quite taken to him.” Balthier crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one side. ”A kind of idol, I’d imagine. They seem absonantly fond of dragons.”
Just his luck, running afoul a bunch of zealots. That was one hazard Ivalice had been blessedly free of. There, the only true gods were power and gil.
”My interest pales to yours, it seems.” His eyes flit to his captor’s. They were vivid -- an almost unsettling blue. ”A deal, perhaps?” He turned away, head slightly tilted. ”I propose a reallocation. The Eyes for your generous hand.” He watched the wall without interest. ”If you’re so inclined.”
“And what a price you’ve paid,” Genesis murmured, though he suspected that the brunette man’s misfortunes were really only just beginning. He seemed to have acquired only mild injuries up until this point, but Genesis had a feeling that might change once X returned from whatever venture that she was currently on. He couldn’t imagine that she would leave him alive at any rate. He knew too much.
It would be a shame for that chiseled face to be marred.
The thief hadn’t seemed to have ever heard of Bahamut before, which confirmed that he must not have been from around here, or from Gaia either for that matter. He seemed dismissive of the entire concept of what they were doing here, which made Genesis laugh under his breath when he referred to Bahamut as an idol. “Well, close enough. I wasn’t aware that he had a following before meeting this group.” He paused to tuck a strand of his red hair back behind one ear before continuing. “As it happens, he’s a summon. A rather powerful one. The king of summons if they’re to be believed.” Genesis rolled his eyes to show how much he thought of what they believed before spreading out his arms in a gesture. “But I’ll let you connect the dots from there.”
Genesis had a feeling that he would. He seemed sharp enough. Especially when he didn’t waste anymore time in trying to make a deal with him. He must have seen that Genesis was his best chance of escape.
“Oh?” Genesis tilted his head to consider the man, a line of Loveless rising to his lips. “The wind sails over the water’s surface, quietly but surely.” He paced a few steps to the side thoughtfully before turning back to the prisoner with a laugh. “Well, I’ve no real hope that you’d actually hand them over…” Not that he could blame him, but even if he did abscond with the eyes, the idea was appealing. Seeing them scramble around while wondering how the man had escaped would certainly be amusing. And if Genesis wanted them for himself, then one person was certainly easier to track down and slaughter than an entire organization.
“Such risk for me, as well…” Genesis lightly grasped one of the iron bars, a slight smirk on his face as he looked it over. “But for curiosity’s sake. What would you require?”
Balthier’s eyebrows raised. ’A summon?’ He’d never heard of such a thing though to his captor it seemed self-evident. Balthier could only imagine it as a type of god. That was a strange word for it, wasn’t it? He supposed that was their goal. Its summoning. He wasn’t entirely certain what dots he was meant to connect, but that was his conclusion at any rate.
They meant to summon a draconic god through the use of relics and idols. A troublesome idea. Perhaps Balthier would make certain to steal them away.
The man took interest in his proposal. His head was tilted. His strange eyes glinted with curiosity, and then came those same riddles. Balthier watched as he paced, performing his own quiet thoughts before he stopped and laughed. ”Well, I’ve no real hope that you’d actually hand them over. Such a risk for me as well...”
Balthier shifted his weight. ”They hold no value for me. I acted on a client's behalf, and at present, I’ll take freedom over gil.” A lie. He had no client, after all, and he had no intention of returning the idols to their dark rituals. It was most moral of him to do away with them. The gil he’d pocket was entirely coincidental.
His captor touched at the bars. His eyes flit over Balthier with that same, heated interest. ”But for curiosity’s sake. What would you require?”
”Tools for one. A wrench more specifically.” The man was curious, and curiosity was a start. It had a way of binding one to its quarry. Balthier tossed him an off-handed glance. ”And a word on the status of my weaponry if you would. I’m not keen on losing them.”
The man protested that the jewels held little real value to him, and Genesis leaned against the cell bars as he contemplated those words. Truthfully, the attractive brunette man had little reason to stick around to hand the eyes off to Genesis once he was free. It could be dangerous for him even. X had spies everywhere in the underground, so staying anywhere in Torensten was just asking to get caught again. Genesis was more than aware that he was just being used, and yet…
Well. It was always much more gratifying to see a group like this scurry around, wasn’t it? And much better for a clueless thief to hold the eyes than someone other than Genesis who knew how to use them. He could always retrieve them later if he had to. He wouldn’t mind paying the thief a visit.
“Just a wrench and weapons? My, how self-sufficient.” Genesis shot the man a wink before he pulled back from the cell door to examine his silver dragon mask instead. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you that the armory is two floors above this one. From the nearest stairwell, it would be your second door on the left. Naturally there may be a guard or two wandering around though. Do take care.”
Sweeping his red hair back over his ears, Genesis pulled the mask on over his face until everything above his mouth was once again covered. “Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return,” he promised with a slight laugh. “Perhaps I’ll have some gifts for you tonight if you’re patient.”
With that, Genesis turned away from the barred door and swept his way down the hallway, his coat and wing billowing out behind him. Truly, he enjoyed fascinating people like that thief. Whether or not he followed through with their deal, the world would be a far less interesting place if someone like him vanished from it.
