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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out here in the garden of angels, i felt what it was like to be free
For days Yazoo had visited the house, exploring every nook and cranny, mapping out the interior, delving farther and farther within the abandoned abode every trip.
Now, he sat within the study, clearing off the many shelves. Lifting another book he espied the remains of a spider long squashed. Or, so he assumed spider, given the many he had stirred alongside dust motes. Unfazed by the find, Yazoo set the book on top of the growing pile and dusted the built-in shelf.
White puffs punctuated his breath as he worked. Though mild, winter had arrived in Torensten. Far from the best season for a move but Yazoo was persistent; his want for independence began as an itch in spring and blossomed as the seasons marched on, driving him to action, even as fall gave way to winter. Apartments held little promise, given the proximity of neighbors and cramped living spaces, hence his current location nestled near a small thicket, the city close by for him to continue freelancing and working in Vivien's shop.
With the bookcase now cleaned, Yazoo brushed the books off, returned them to the shelves, and stood, dusting his hands against his dark washed jeans. His stomach gurgled. Brows knitted, he glanced the window, saw the sun sinking behind the tree line and cursed. Grabbing the broom, he swiftly swept up. Tomorrow he'd mop.
In his haste, he skipped every other step down the stairwell. From the newel post, Yazoo snatched his leather jacket, tossed it on, and extinguished the lone candle as he exited the house. Gravel and hoarfrost crunched beneath his boots as he made way towards his motorcycle, fishing for his keys.
A low growl made him cease his actions. His eyes, long adjusted to the dimming light, widened. Two wolves, almost as large as his motorcycle, blocked his path, their hackles raised, baring fangs and snarling. He almost dropped his keys. "Damn," his whisper was hoarse, punctuated by a white stream. How had he missed them? Had he been that blind?
"Seems like you're having some trouble." The fine hairs on Yazoo's neck stood on end. From the timberline, a man approached. Ruddy and brawny, scars littered his hands and arms. Garbed in a wolf pelt only amplified his rugged look. "I could help, you know. For a price."
Yazoo did not miss whip at his hip. Help would not come from this man, for he was the threat, the one controlling the wargs, and if Yazoo wanted to make it for dinner reservations, the beast tamer had to be dealt with immediately. Lifting his chin, Yazoo faced the intruder. "Leave."
The man's smile bared too many teeth, much like the creatures he mastered. "Cocky, ain't you?" Seeing as Yazoo hadn't flinched, his eyes narrowed. "Nah, it's deeper than that"—his smile fell as he scratched at his fiery beard—"you're like a territorial kitten. Possessive of what you think is your place. Ready to throw down to defend it.
"That's greedy," the man said, tsked. "Unfortunately, so am I. You've trespassed on my turf, boy." He wrenched the whip free.
It cracked like thunder in the cold air, landing a strike near remnant's feet, upturned soil dirting Yazoo's boots. Around him, the wargs pressed closer, foaming from their mouths. Instinctively, Yazoo smirked. The prospect of an outmatched battle sowed unnatural confidence he could not explain. Perhaps, tempting fate did make him too cocky. Not that he cared.
At the man's barked order, the first warg lunged. Yazoo skirted back, narrowly dodging the large claws, before beelining for the junk pile (he was grateful he hadn't sold the scraps yet, more so once he dragged the metal rod from it). It weighed awkward in his left hand, giving Yazoo the impression he never wielded a blade, let alone a metal rod, prior. He hadn't much time to ponder over it, for already the wolves were closing the distance he had gained.
Adjusting his grip, Yazoo timed his swing when one of the wargs leaped. The strike rang true, evident by the canine's yelp. Taken aback at the sight of the now lifeless heap of flesh, Yazoo almost missed the other beast bounding towards him.
Almost. Swiveling, he brought the rod up to block the large animal's advancement. The beast bit down on the metal, wrenching its head that nearly tore the weapon from Yazoo's hand. By a stroke of luck, he kept control. With the great jaw still clamped over the weapon, Yazoo shoved against the beast, forcing it back. Inch by inch he gained ground.
He didn't respond in time to deflect the whip. It struck his calf. Pain seared up his leg, causing Yazoo to stumble, his advantage slipping like water between his fingers.
He cried out as fangs sank into his flesh, tearing through leather and cotton alike. Anxiety rose in his throat, choking him. Yazoo thrashed, clawing desperately at the wolf's snout, finding no purchase as blood slicked his fingers. He couldn't go down like this. His remaining blood boiled at the sound of the man's scathing laugh. He wouldn't go down like this! By any means, he'd win this match!
Movement. The color drained from his face as realization dawned: A hulking mass of black, with milky-white bones molded to its body, emerged from the wood line.
"What the hell?" the man hissed. "What the hell is that?" With a crack of his whip, the warg let Yazoo loose, rounded to charge at the other canine-shaped creature. Bloodied fingers groped for his makeshift weapon, fingers wrapping around the metal rod once he located it. Albeit a struggle, Yazoo managed to sit upright.
Just in time to see the beats duel conclude. Maw agape, the larger beast discarded the warg as if it were nothing more than a toy. The creature turned its unseen eyes on Yazoo. Sweat beaded on his brow as a shiver ran down his spine. Swallowing, Yazoo wasn't sure if he could take this creature.
To his astonishment, the mass turned its attention on the mediator. It was as if he could sense its intentions, Yazoo hissed.
"No," Yazoo rasped, "he's mine."
As if to stake his claim, the remnant rose, adjusted his grip, and crossed the distance between him and his opponent, rod poised for the blow.
Metal on bone vibrated in the evening air. A body fell in a boneless heap. Yazoo turned on his heel, ready to square off one more time. To his astonishment, the hulking mass had vanished like mist to the rising sun.
Despite his heaving chest and rapid heartbeat, he managed an eerily collected, "Was this fun for you?" Listlessly, Yazoo nudged the unconscious man with the tip of his boot; the beast master’s head lolled as he gave a pitiable moan. Crimson stained the snow and upturned frozen soil, stained the bent in the middle, rust flaking rod slipping from his boneless grasp. “No?” His hands shook; his arm bled; his legs ached. Yazoo sank to his knees. “…pity.”
He'd never make his reservation now.
OPEN. Yazoo, make sure the place you've picked isn't inhabited by squatters. Also, yes, convenient Shadow Creeper for the win. Also! Currently, Yazoo cannot summon Velvet Nightmare but he will soon enough!
Final Fantasy X
19
YEARS
Female
Tidus
Heterosexual
294 POSTS
Erin
I live for the people of Spira, and would have gladly died for them, but no more!
The people and the friends that we have lost. Or the dreams that have faded. Never forget them.
Yuna jerked upright, fresh terror coursing through her as she looked around and tried to take in her surroundings. She was lying on the cold dirt, and the way the sun dipped low on the horizon made her press a hand to her mouth in concentration. How had she gotten here? What had she been doing before this? She couldn’t remember, and panic almost blinded her for a moment before she forced herself to calm down and take a slow breath. She would find a way out of this. She just needed to slow down and think about it.
She should have been on Besaid. She was almost sure of it, but her memories seemed hazy somehow. She couldn’t remember any specifics of what she would have been doing to end up lying on the grass. Not to mention that it was too cold here to be her home. There wasn’t any water or a grain of sand in sight either. Clearly this wasn’t Besaid.
Carefully rising to her feet, Yuna took a step back to check herself over for injuries until her boot bumped into something solid. Glancing down, she saw with some relief that her staff was sprawled across the grass next to her. “Praise Yevon,” she murmured as she bent down to retrieve it, but she paused as her fingers touched the familiar shape. Something about that phrase left a bad taste in her mouth, even though she must have said it thousands of times before at the ends of prayers.
“What’s wrong with me?” She murmured, before quickly chiding herself for her moment of weakness. This was no time to break down. Surely she’d be able to find someone who could explain or direct her back home. Collecting herself, she pulled herself to her feet again and set off across the grass towards the setting sun.
Yuna had been walking for a few minutes when she first heard the howls. Pausing, she gripped her staff tighter to herself and cautiously peered forward into the dim lighting. She was used to wild animals on Besaid, and she knew she could handle those if she had to, but she had no idea what kind of fiends might dwell in this strange place. It was best to avoid them if she could. Yuna started to veer towards the right to avoid the direction of the howls, but then the sound of a pained yell echoed towards her. It was unmistakably human.
Without hesitation, Yuna ran towards the sounds now, her heart pounding in her ears as the sounds of a struggle and animal whimpers grew louder. A large, abandoned looking house came into view around a cluster of trees on her right side, but she barely looked at it in her hurry.
Rounding the corner towards the front of the house, Yuna froze, her eyes darting around as she took in the sight of two men. The larger man was groaning and stirring on the ground, while the smaller man had fallen to his knees with one hand pressed to his shoulder. There were no fiends to be seen, but the light of the setting sun glinted off flecks of liquid on the ground. Blood.
Yuna spurred into action. “You’re hurt!” She called as she rushed over to the first of the men. He had long silver hair that almost reached his waist, and as she knelt next to him, she noticed that his green eyes almost seemed to glow in the dim lighting. “I’m a summoner. I can help you.” She quickly explained before reaching out to take his bleeding arm without waiting for permission. Calling her magic to her fingertips, she quickly set about trying to heal the bite wound she found there. The man on the ground was likely in worse shape, but she could at least stabilize this silver-haired man first. “Is there anyone else here? Just you two?” She asked while she worked.
out here in the garden of angels, i felt what it was like to be free
Fingers brushed his upper arm. Yazoo snapped alert, eyes alit with forcefully concealed ire and pain, his attention towards the newcomer just as familiar glow pulsed and a tingling sensation arose from the location of her hand. Slow as the tide, Yazoo’s visage softened. He had come to recognize white magic anywhere, given his hospitalization in this world. She was gifted with the same power some of the doctors and nurses processed; of the magi that often visited Torensten, handing herbs over for medication or directly offering their services to the direst of patients.
Summoner, though, momentarily confused him. Was she like the character in Jeanne’s favorite graphic novels? She always prattled about it, going on and on about how the main man was good looking, or how he narrowly escaped death, or how he could hail monsters from other dimensions. In fact, Yazoo was certain she had called him a summoner once.
If she spoke the truth, it would explain the beast’s sudden appearance before it merged back to the shadows without a trace. And, if he were to go by those stories, then the creature fit the mold. She did not. Unless Jeanne forgot to mention other powers summoners could possess…
Yazoo hummed, thoughts difficult as the white magic thrummed through his veins, making his head swim as it warmed and comforted him, making his muscle relax. She seemed to carry a gentle nature. Whatever It was held a heavier and darkened aura. Not hers, then.
“…it is just us.” He froze. He hadn’t anticipated on answering her question. Had he not been so exhausted, had the magic not made him lax in judgment, he wouldn’t have wasted his already taxed energy. If she had looked, she’d have her answer.
Despite wanting to point that fact out, a new sensation gnawed at his stomach, raw and uncomfortably twisting his insides. Beneath the veil of his hair, he snuck a second look at the woman and found he needn’t the caution. Though he could make out her appearance—dark hair, slim built, eyes seemingly different colors—it seemed as if she could not. A moment later it did, truly dawn: Unlike him, she couldn’t see as well in the encroaching dark. If not for the faint glow of her magic, she might not be able to see at all. What he felt was guilt.
He worked his jaw in contemplation as the magic faded, as the light dwindled by the minute. Arrogance placed him in this position; wounded and tired and need of care from a stranger. Would he let history repeat so soon, and not give gratitude? Decision made, Yazoo breathed: “You have my thanks.”
Soon she'd turn toward the other man and would begin healing him. Yazoo worked his jaw again. Though he did not want the man to live, Yazoo knew there was little reason to barter. A healer at heart would always be just that. Perhaps, to help pay off his debt to her, he'd remain by her side. The pipe was nearby should he need another concussion. But first, she needed light to give her ample time to respond should the beastmaster resort to aggression.
Slipping from her touch, Yazoo rose. He brushed the hair from his eyes, before fidgeting at the tear in his leather jacket, stalling to find the right words with minimum effort on his part. Soft as the snow around them, he finally said, “There is a candle inside.”
He did not wait for a reply. The crunching of gravel and hoarfrost announced his retreat. Effortlessly, Yazoo pushed open the door, ignoring the prolonged creak it produced in his wake. Within minutes he was before the corner stand, fished about for the matchbox, located it, and lit the candle. A single wisp of smoke made his nose scrunch up. How he hated the smell of smoke; it smothered and needled memories just out of reach, shrouded in a haze of their own...
Shoving his thoughts aside, Yazoo exited the house and knelt by her side. “Be alert.” His eyes held the chill of winter with an unspoken warning: He may strike like the beast he commands.
Yuna felt the man stiffen under her touch when she first started healing him, but he slowly started to relax the further she got into her work. He didn’t answer her questions at first, which worried her a little. She hoped he wasn’t hurt so badly that he was going into shock. Yuna renewed her focus on trying to close his wounds, and she was so intent on her task that she was a little startled when he finally answered that they were alone. She was relieved both to hear him talk and that there was no one else. She should have enough magic to heal two people, even if the wounds were bad.
The silver-haired man had a light, smooth voice, but he sounded like the type of person who never said two words when one would do. Yuna nodded in acknowledgement of his answer and shot him a small smile before going back to her work. Eventually, she let out a short breath and sat back on her heels as she let her cure spells fade. “I hope that helps. That was a bad wound,” she said, shaking her head when he thanked her. “No, it was no problem at all. I’m just glad I was close by.” She still had no idea why she had woken up here, but at least she was able to save someone. Maybe two people.
The thought made her remember the second man on the ground, and she turned her attention towards him, squinting and feeling for him in the dim lighting when the silver-haired man suddenly rose from the ground and mentioned a candle inside. It seemed he was going to go get a light. “Thank you,” she tried to tell him, but he had already turned away and gone most of the way back to the house. It looked like her initial assessment of him being quiet was correct. Yuna fought a small laugh, but it quickly died in her throat when she glanced down at her hands and noticed that her fingers were sticky with blood that wasn’t hers.
Casting a worried glance back at the house, Yuna leaned over the man on the ground, noticing with some relief that he was breathing. What had happened between them? They were both pretty badly hurt. The uneasy thought occurred to her that maybe they had gotten in a fight, but the silver-haired man was back before she could dwell on it. The glow of the candle illuminated the small space around them, and she gave him a grateful smile before scooting closer to the unconscious man and calling on her magic again.
“Alert?” She asked in response to the man’s warning before shooting him a startled glance. “He attacked you?” She supposed that she’d heal the unconscious man either way, but she wanted to know if he was dangerous. “I’m sorry. If he hurt you, then don’t feel you have to stay here.” Yuna said, turning to look at him. The light of the candle let her see his face better, and she sucked in a quick breath of air before she could stop herself as she noticed his eyes. The pupils were slits, and they almost seemed to glow green in the dim lighting.
“Ah...I’m sorry,” Yuna said quickly, knowing that she was being rude as she quickly focused on the man on the ground again. Stealing a glance back at the silver-haired man, she shot him a weak smile. “I’m Yuna by the way. Do you live here?” What she really wanted to ask was what had happened to him, but he didn’t seem like he would be inclined to answer that.
out here in the garden of angels, i felt what it was like to be free
He did,” Yazoo admitted, frowning. When she gave him leeway to leave, it was tempting. Ditch the candle, rise, walk, and never look back, abandon her to wander in the dark and to an unknown fate. It sounded so simple. It should have been so simple.
Yet he lingered. Working his jaw, Yazoo glanced between the woman and the man. Despite her granite resolve and prowess, some part of him couldn’t…leave. Perhaps it was her kindness, and how he should repay it honorably.
Honor. Somehow Yazoo couldn’t believe he was an honorable man; the sheer notion felt as if he put shoes too snug, making him uncomfortable even as goosebumps rippled across his skin. He shifted, uncomfortable. The flame danced and, within the haze, a town emerged. He visibly flinched. Before him, the town burned until the flame sputtered and the vision wafted from his mind.
She had spoken softly as the breeze that stirred the flame, grounding his attention before he let sought the shadows of—his?—memory. He gave her a faint smile, the flickering shadows cast from the candle hollowing it. “Yazoo.”
“Let him have it.”For now. Yazoo faced the house. He’d have to stake his claim later. If the man any self-preservation, he’d leave once he gained consciousness, beaten and bruised, tail between his legs, accepting a fair (enough) defeat. For now, it was best to heal and address this afterward.
After waiting of Yuna’s assurance, he gingerly maneuvered, lifting the man as if he were a ragdoll. Bracing the man’s weight against his side, Yazoo waited to see whether or not Yuna would before slowly yet surely made his way towards the house. He held the candle aloft in his right hand, lighting their way.
Crossing the threshold, Yazoo directed them to the left, heading towards what was once the living room. Dust motes tickled his nose as he laid the man on the couch. Once free of his burden, Yazoo placed the candle on the nearby stand, wincing when the wood strained even under such light strain. Without thought, he made haste to find something that could keep the unconscious man warm.
He set the threadbare blanket on the back of the couch, lips pursed, on guard despite the exhaustion seeping into his muscles. Though he could not say for certain, Yazoo had a hunch Yuna may want to at least cover the man, in hopes to give him some warmth. His eyes drifted to the small fireplace. The outdoor storage box, though spider-ridden and beaten from years of exposure to the elements, held some wood. Or, Yazoo inhaled sharply, it was so the last he had checked. If the beastmaster had been staking out the place, who’s to say he hadn’t taken advantage of the house while he was away? It wasn’t like Yazoo could lock the place up (yet).
Shaking his head to dislodge the thoughts, Yazoo knew action was the best course. “Firewood,” he stated, far too sharp against the tranquil room. Shifting gracefully to conceal his nerves, he added, “might be in storage. I’ll go check.”
This time, he’d wait a moment for her affirmation before making his way outdoors. Soon enough, he returned, a meager load in hand. Arranging the kindling, Yazoo turned his attention. “I…can’t use magic.”And the candle might not light it. It almost hurt to admit that. Instead, he offered the only asset he had: “When you’re ready, I can get you to town.”
He worked his jaw while he waited.
Final Fantasy X
19
YEARS
Female
Tidus
Heterosexual
294 POSTS
Erin
I live for the people of Spira, and would have gladly died for them, but no more!
“Yazoo,” Yuna echoed, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as she finished up healing the injured man on the ground. It was an interesting name, but then he didn’t look like anyone she had ever seen before with his long silver hair and green slitted eyes that glowed softly in the dim lighting. She wanted to ask where he was from, but she wasn’t sure if that would be rude. He’d certainly know why she was asking at any rate.
Sitting back on her heels, Yuna blinked slowly as Yazoo picked the other man up without any difficulty and threw him over one shoulder. He was a lithe man, but he must have been stronger than he looked.
Let him have it.
Yuna frowned in understanding, her brows furrowing slightly as she followed Yazoo to the entryway of the house. “You’re...letting him have it?" She asked in confusion, but she thought that she understood a little better once she had crossed the threshold. The light of the candle flickered over dust-covered surfaces, and the faint scent of mildew was in the air. This was an abandoned house. Yazoo must have just been squatting here for a while. No wonder he was so uncaring about whether or not his attacker took it from him.
Following Yazoo to the living room, she smiled faintly as he took care in laying the man on the couch and draping a thin blanket over the back of it. Despite how abrupt and soft-spoken he was, Yazoo seemed like he was more thoughtful and observant than she would have guessed. Somehow Yuna didn’t think he would appreciate hearing that from her though, so she kept her thoughts to herself.
“Alright,” Yuna nodded to him when he mentioned that there might be firewood out back, and her attention was drawn to the cold grate off to the side. He was right that in the falling temperature, the injured man was liable to freeze unless they did something to keep him warm before they left. As Yazoo left the room to go collect the firewood, Yuna groped for the blanket that she had seen earlier in the dark. She pulled it over the injured man before stepping back to wait for Yazoo. She didn’t have to wait long before he returned with a small load of wood that he proceeded to arrange in the fireplace.
Yazoo turned to her and admitted in a quiet voice that he couldn’t use magic, and it took Yuna a moment to realize that he was asking her to light the fire. “Oh, I can’t-” she started to protest before trailing off. She was no black mage. That was Lulu’s specialty. She’d hoped to branch out and learn some of her guardian’s tricks when she was further along on her pilgrimage, but as it was, she hadn’t even left yet.
Still, something about that line of thinking felt wrong. Saying that she hadn’t left for her pilgrimage yet felt wrong. Saying that she didn’t know how to cast Fire felt wrong.
Feeling a little dizzy, Yuna stepped forward and knelt by the fireplace, reaching out a hand towards the stacked wood. Lulu’s face flickered in her mind, and her chest burned hotter than it usually did when she was casting white magic, before a few small flames sprang up where she had touched the wood.
Jerking backwards, Yuna stared at the blooming fire with her heart pounding in her ears. What was that? A memory? A delusion? She could swear that she could almost hear Lulu’s voice in her ear instructing her on the differences between black magic and white magic. But Lulu hadn’t taught her a thing yet. She had promised that she would during their journey, but it hadn’t happened yet. But then how did she explain that she had managed to cast Fire for the first time?
She needed to find her guardians. Nothing was adding up, and it was scaring her, though she tried not to alert Yazoo about it.
“Town?” She looked up at Yazoo before nodding quickly and rising to her feet. “Thank you so much, Yazoo. I’m so glad I ran into you.” She wondered privately what island they were on, but she supposed that it would become apparent soon enough.
As they walked back outside into the waiting darkness, Yuna was glad for Yazoo’s company. He didn’t seem to be much for words, but she was just grateful to have someone leading the way. Hopefully they’d meet again someday. She’d like to repay him for his kindness.
