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.
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year 5, quarter 3
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Such a peaceful place, Provo. Yes, it bustled with activity, people shopping and going about their daily necessities and indulgences alike from day till long past sundown, but something about that felt like it was part of the girl, Iris. The city life came so naturally - The habit of stopping to wave at someone you knew, or sometimes at someone you didn't. The smiling apology when you bumped into another when navigating a particularly crowded road. Indeed, Provo was very much home.
At least, she thought it was home.
Iris wasn't entirely sure, but she assumed that she'd obviously spent time here, seeing how quickly she became acclimated to such a heavy environment. Nonetheless, the lack of memories didn't leave a gap in her being... She had barely noticed, in fact. Even so, she was lucky the young couple that ran the local (And undeniably popular) cup noodle stall of this particular market had found her and given her board, on the condition she work for it. She couldn't complain - They treated her like family and it wasn't exactly hard work, running the stall for a few hours a day. If anything, the interaction was fun. All sorts passed by the city.
She handed the last customer in the queue their order, smiling as she did. When they turned to depart, she shook her head, gently rubbing her eyes. Despite all the good she'd had and the work she'd been doing, sleep had been a little elusive lately. Dreams visited her in the dead of night, those odd ones that straddled the line of a simply strange dream and a nightmare... She wasn't sure if she was comfortable with the clarity with which she recalled the images, either.
She stood on an empty desert road, expanse for miles and naught but a seemingly empty, age-old fuel station behind her. The sign read 'Hammerhead', though some of the letters had fallen. A cold wind whipped around her arms and legs and yet she still wore her normal short dress. She seemed unfazed by the weather, as something darker loomed in the distance. However, it was not the distance she looked to. It was the sky, held aloft in which was a glorious, white moon. She stared straight at it. Her ankles ached, like she had been static here for hours. She stared and stared, but the moon never moved, never traced its way across the sky.
The daybreak never came.
Even the thought of the eerie images brought with it an odd sense of tranquility, followed by an uncomfortable shiver. She shook her head of the thought, returning herself to the glaring daylight of Provo. She had run out of queuing customers, it seemed, so she decided to call for more. Hands to her cheeks to amplify her voice, she called over the racket of the shoppers and other salesmen, hailing any hungry stomachs in the area.
"Best noodles in the city, and it'll hardly cost you a gil! We're running low, so come get them fast!" They weren't running low, but that was advertising for you. There didn't seem to be any immediate interest, so she waited, leaning against the wall behind her with a relaxed smile on her face.
[attr="class","itsover"] It had been a very long time since Ardyn had been lost. Very long by both mortal standards and his. He could scarcely remember what it was like to wander without knowing where his feet would take him or to listen for conversations that meant almost nothing to him. Yet, as he sauntered into town, he could hardly guess what would await him beyond its gate, and the sign posted beside it was anything but helpful.
"Provo." There wasn't a town in Lucis, Accordo, Tenebrae, or Niflheim by that name, nor had there ever been. Something twisted inside of him at that uncertainty This place hadn't existed when last he'd lived, and there was nothing to suggest that it as newly constructed. How long would it take to build something of this scale?
How long had it been since he'd last drawn breath?
Hatred. That's what had twisted his stomach at the sight of this place. He hated the bustling crowds that pushed through the streets in currents. He hated the unwavering walls and the cheerful cries from market stalls. They were a mockery of his revenge and of the two thousand years he had spent plotting it. He'd twisted the world until he'd given the gods no choice but to take notice, and yet, they had not ended him. The world, it seemed, had recovered. He couldn't sense a trace of the Infernian's blight for miles. Even so, the gods had forgotten one glaring oversight.
Their pestilence lived on inside of him just as it had since the day the Glacian had cursed him with her blessing. If they refused to accept his soul, then he would have no choice but to force their hands again. The world might have been cleansed, but Ardyn certainly hadn't been. And that which was clean could always be corrupted if touched by twisted hands.
He let his fingers trail across the products of a fruit stand. Gleaming apples. Lush berries. Soft plums. He hummed quietly to himself, an old song that stirred with the malice in his heart. The crowds parted around him, a swarm of uneasy and questioning eyes. He'd been told that his presence could unsettle mortal hearts, though he couldn't personally see why. For all he knew, it was his eccentric sense of fashion. Still, the eyes he caught would quickly glance away as he contemplated his revenge against the gods.
Once he'd infected the first victims, the blight would spread as rapidly as in the days of Solheim. Without an Oracle, he gave this town a few years at most to survive. The infected would be spurned, feared, and cast out into the wilds, but then they would be granted death, or at least their humanity would die.
Ardyn didn't pity them.
The marketplace reminded him of Lestallum with its chattering crowds and enticing smells. All around came the shouts of shopkeepers eager for hungry eyes. Ardyn paid them little mind as he sauntered past. That was, at least, until he caught the call of a young girl selling noodles. He glanced at her reflexively, blinked in surprise, and then stopped in his tracks.
The girl before him...But it couldn't be...
She was the model of teenage youth in her bangles, belts, and irregular patterns. By all accounts, she seemed an unassuming girl despite her tall boots and rebelliously short hair. And yet, Ardyn was certain he'd seen her before. Yes, she'd joined Noctis for a time at the campsites leading to their hidden port. If memory served, she was the younger sister of Noctis' most fearsome guard. Iris Amicitia, though she had gone by a different name at the time of his death.
Iris the Demonslayer. His eyes trailed over her now, lacking all the ferocity and experience that had granted her such a formidable title. The girl before him was not only helpless, but physically younger than before. Ten years younger if he had to hazard a guess.
At another time, Ardyn would contemplate the implications of the impossibility before him. He would lament the cruelty of the gods and postulate matters of time, reality, and the crystal. But that time was not now, and for now he refused to let confusion ruin this opportunity.
She stood before him like an offering -- lost, oblivious, and helpless. How would her fate hurt her brutish brother? How would it hurt Noctis?
A shiver ran through him at the thought. Certainly, Noctis must have died if this world knew sunlight, and yet if she still lived and Ardyn himself still lived, then there was no way to know for certain. At best, her ruin would give the prince a renewed reason to grieve. At worst, Ardyn could enact vengeance on a hunter he'd ignored for too long.
Oh, everything was going swimmingly.
He approached the stall with a casual swagger, eyes bright and grin as sly as ever. He hailed her with a single raised hand, pointed up in attention. "Ah, yes. Over here, if you wouldn't mind." With nothing but the stall between them, Ardyn let his eyes slide over her again. If Ardyn had harbored any doubts, they evaporated now. This girl was the spitting image of Iris the Demonslayer, and she was alone.
His head tilted in interest as he felt his grin widen. "I wouldn't want to miss my chance."
And there it was, the awaited cry of her next customer. Alas, only one, but one was always more than none, and one always inspired more. She grinned as the stranger approached and signaled for a cup, spinning almost as soon as he did. In doing so, she hadn't caught a good glimpse of him. She did however, note his rather eccentric fashion sense. Dealing with the pans of boiling water and cooking noodles, she spoke back to him over her shoulder.
"First time in the city?" She asked. "You look a little... addled?" She chuckled, tossing the pan's contents a few times before continuing. "Or did you just have a bit too much to drink last night?" She switched from the pans to fetching the container for the food, tossing it up and catching it as she began to load it full of noodles from the water with a pair of tongs.
She heaped the last of the food into the cup, fetching a pair of chopsticks from the side table and snapping them apart before sticking them into the noodles, standing upright. Finally, she turned around, presenting the meal to her customer with a grin, but upon seeing him, she flinched. Blinking twice, her body froze, examining him as if there were something not quite right. She buckled forward slightly, slamming the cup down on the counter as she felt a metallic tang on her lips. "-- Sorry-" She spoke, lifting a hand to her upper lip and wiping a thick smear of blood from beneath her nose.
Without warning, the noise started to fade from around her. All she could focus on was the man in front of her and a series of intermittent, ethereal images that flashed through her mind, too broken to make sense, but oh, so... Familiar. She looked up at him, her hand still stemming the bleeding and eyes full of apprehension. "I... Do I... Do I kn--"
Her legs crumpled, buckling beneath her as her voice cut off and she collapsed to the ground. Several horrified gasps echoed behind Ardyn, some simply standing in shock while others called for a healer. Iris' body remained still on the floor, her eyes open but devoid of emotion. She still breathed, but it was erratic.
Suddenly, Iris found herself somewhere else. She was dreaming again, it seemed, back on this same, dark highway, the middle of nowhere.
She stared up at her eternal quarry in this place, the moon, as if willing it to give way to the sun. Instead, she found the clouds drawing over it, shutting out its light - the only light - entirely. Terrified, she reached a hand out, for all the good it would do, shouting for it not to leave her in the dark. For some reason, the darkness here made her uncomfortable. She knew it wasn't safe. But her efforts were in vain. Within minutes, even her hands couldn't be seen in front of her face... And then she heard a voice.
"Iris..."
A man's voice, sickly familiar. It seemed to be weeping. She stumbled back, but tripped on something. Falling on her rear, she helplessly glanced around her, sensing something drawing closer. The clouds parted just enough to reveal what she could feel stalking her. A huge figure, human in stature and again, painfully familiar. A word began to escape her lips even if it harbored no meaning to her shattered memory. "G-Gla-"
"I'm sorry."
It spoke again, as if choked with tears, and then she felt the grasp of hands around her neck. Even at this range, the shadows made it impossible to make out any features. She tried to cry out, but all it did was starve her further of air. Desperately slapping and clawing at the wrists, she grew frenzied. "Stop it... Stop... It... Stop!"
With a strength that was not hers, that was not human, she lashed out and felt her bare fingers shred through muscle and sinew, destroying her aggressor entirely. She looked at her hands, reddened with blood... But whose?
Back in Provo, the unconscious body of the girl gritted its teeth and balled its fists, as if in resistance.
Notes / Tags
696 words
Ardyn Izunia That got a bit abstract... There is a meaning to it, swear.
[attr="class","itsover"] The girl hardly looked at him as he made his request. On his signal, she'd thrown herself into her work, busying herself with pots and thin rows of noodles. Ardyn's eyes slid over them -- waiting, exposed, and just out of his reach. He glanced to her, judging the distance between them. He would only need a distraction...
"First time in the city?" she called to him, stirring the pot vigorously. "You look a little... addled? Or did you just have a bit too much to drink last night?" She laughed at the joke and grabbed for one of the noodle bowls. Ardyn tilted his head and smiled in a way that showed nearly all of his teeth.
"I'll let you decide," he said. He looked again to his noodles stacked along the right side of the stall. It would have to be done quickly before she turned around. He slipped his hand into his pocket and slid his thumb along the blade of his dagger. He felt the warm slip of blood and then the release of a dark miasma. He jammed the tip of his nail into the wound to keep it from healing.
She turned, and he froze, hand half-pulled from his pocket. The sight of him stopped her where she stood, blinking without comprehension as her eyes filled with fear. Ardyn smiled back at her casually, fingers around his dagger and nail firmly plugging the miasma from his thumb. Would she make a scene, or allow him to accost her quietly? She stumbled forward, bowl slamming on the table as she gripped the walls of the stall. "Sorry-!" she coughed before reaching up to touch at her lip.
Her nose was bleeding. Ardyn raised an eyebrow. Had he done something to her? He hadn't thought so, but her body was failing, and he had cut himself. "Are you alright?" he asked for politeness' sake, but she was too far gone to answer. She was staring at him, pale, unsteady, and trembling.
Their eyes met. Hers widened. "I... Do I... Do I kn--"
And then she collapsed. Ardyn blinked as she fell. Her body crumpled against the ground, eyes sightless and mouth gaping.
'Well. That was...easy.'
All around, the crowds had stopped, staring. Several people gasped. A few rushed forward to help. Ardyn lingered, uncertain whether to approach her or to slip into the bustle of the crowds. A man knelt at her side and checked for her pulse. After several seconds, his face flooded with relief and he cried out, "She's alive!"
"Oh!" Ardyn clapped his hands together. "But what good news! Someone must send for a medic!" He turned to look at each of the girls' saviors in turn, gesturing emphatically. "A medic! Could it be you...Or you? Won't someone aid this poor girl?"
Several of them did, scattering in every direction after doctors, healing potions, and anyone who might know her. Ardyn wasn't left alone, but he was at least spaciously ignored. He ambled through the stall door then stopped to consider her. She was as lifeless as a corpse except for the short, fluttering gasps in her throat. Her nose was still streaked with blood. He knelt beside her, head tilted in interest.
"How tragic." He glanced from the girl, lips still partially ajar, to his thumb. It was smeared red -- the skin, flawless. He gave a faint scowl and slid it back into his pocket. There was a pinch of pain, the warmth of blood, and he'd stoppered it again with his nail.
Hurried footsteps sounded behind him. "We've found where she's been staying! Let's get her inside!"
"Yes, yes. Allow me." He bent over her as though to pick her up, angling so as to hide her face from the crowd. In a single swipe, he touched his thumb to her lips. His blood mixed with her own as the miasma wafted past her tongue. Once the wound had healed once more, he shifted his hand beneath her shoulders and lifted.
She stirred at the movement, making half-muffled noises in her throat. Her eyelids flickered. "Oh!" Ardyn let her go, laying her back gently on the ground before glancing back at her lingering aid. "She's waking up!" he told them before looking back to her, leaning forward slightly.
"How do you fare, my dear? You took quite the fall."
The girl fell to her knees, staring at the blood she'd torn from the nondescript figure that attacked her. The clouds that blotted the dreamscape's only light cleared, bathing it in silver moonlight once more, but she dared not turn. She feared to see what... Who she'd done this to. Who they were, what was left. She cradled her head, not caring for the scarlet smears it left on face, dragging her fingers down like claws in frustration. What was this place? Had she done something before that left these ghosts in her head? The more she thought, the more she came to the conclusion that maybe she didn't want to remember who she was.
Now was all so perfect, so bright. She was scared that what came before would be dark and tragic... Was it?
The conflicting thoughts caused her to growl with rage at he own indecisiveness. "Dammit! Dammit all!" She cried into the empty roads, sighing, feeling a tear roll down her face. Even her weeping felt wrong. The tears were cold, devoid of life. She didn't try to wipe the off as they fell from her chin and onto her open palms, and it was this indifference that showed her the main fault in these tears.
They were black.
Her breath caught, hitching at the back of her throat, and she held them under the light to make sure it wasn't just her eyes playing tricks. Truly, her tears ran black. The patch on her palm evaporated under the moonlight, into black smoke. At least, she thought it was the tear, but she became aware of a different sensation. It wasn't just the tears vanishing in these dark wisps, it was her. She shot to her feet, frantically flailing like she was on fire, trying to get the strange smoke away from her, but to no avail. The last thing she could do was scream as she finally saw what she'd been waiting for in this dream. The day broke, and she wished it hadn't.
---
With a sudden start, light returned to her eyes and she coughed, choking on her own breath. Unlike the haphazard rise and fall that her chest had done while she had been unconscious, it now heaved, devouring as much of real air as it could. She was awake. She was awake, and she was fine. She gave herself a moment to calm down, slowly rolling onto her side. She heard a voice from above her... The man who had ordered from the stall. Shakily, she sat up, rubbing her head with one hand.
"Did I just... Ugh... My head..." She wiped the blood from her lower face, unconsciously smearing the plagued stuff even more, inevitably to the delight of Ardyn. "I'm... Fine. A little lighthead. Did you...?" She took a long, even breath, then smiled up at Ardyn like she had earlier, albeit a little weaker. "Thank you." She spoke, leaning forward a little. For just having such a harrowing experience, she was remarkably good at masking any kind of shaken she'd been. She held out her hand to the eccentrically dressed individual, giving an awkward chuckle. "Sorry, would you mind giving me a hand? I'm a little unsteady."
[attr="class","itsover"] Iris woke with a start, choking as she rolled over onto her side. She was still pale and trembling. Her breath staggered as she gasped for air. In short, she was pitiful, though Ardyn could hardly say as to why. Some part of him wondered if he should feel insulted. The sight of him had never caused someone's nose to erupt in blood, but then, a much larger part of him hardly cared. At least she'd survived her strange episode. Otherwise, Ardyn couldn't have taken pleasure in her degradation.
"What luck. You gave us all a scare. What a tragedy it would be to lose you here."
The girl's eyelids fluttered as she searched for words. "Did I just... Ugh... My head..." She wiped at the blood on her lip, pulling back her hand to stare at the red smear. "I'm... Fine. A little lightheaded. Did you...?"
Ardyn smiled at her placidly, tilting his head inquisitively. "Did I...?" he repeated, but she'd already forgotten her train of though. Ardyn wondered what she could have meant. Had he awoken her? Had he caused her ailment? Had he done something terrible to her?
He could only answer yes to two of them, so he didn't presume to answer.
The girl took a long, steadying breath before looking up to meet his eye. She smiled uneasily. "Thank you," she said, to which he answered, "It was hardly a problem." Another few breaths, and the girl looked good as new -- albeit covered in blood. She truly was as resilient as the rumors said. Resilient enough to stare down a daemon, it seemed, though not perceptive enough to notice one in front of her.
She laughed under her breath and held out a hand to him. "Sorry, would you mind giving me a hand? I'm a little unsteady." He gave a chuckle of his own before taking her hand in his.
"Of course not, my dear." He stood, lifting her with him. She swayed on her feet, but not enough that Ardyn needed to help her balance. "Do take care not to hurt yourself in the future, hm?" He gave her a tilted half-smile. "We were all so worried."
With that, he turned and stepped out of the stall, edging back around to the front. The remaining bystanders rushed forward to check on her health -- Could she remember her name? Would her pupils dilate? What was her heart-rate? Meanwhile, Ardyn fished through his pockets until he found a handful of coins. Imperial coins, but it hardly mattered. He slapped them on the counter before taking the forgotten bowl of noodles in one hand. His fingers warmed against the rim.
"Have a lovely day," he said with a glance towards the girl before smirking and starting off into the crowd. He moved where his feet would take him, ambling along without any real direction. After a couple of paces, Ardyn took the chopsticks, twirled a few noodles around them, and placed a few them in his mouth.
"Oh my," he muttered as the salty taste hit his tongue. It seemed his short stop hadn't been a waste of time in the least.
