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.
His blade flicked easily in front of him, slicing through the air with pinpoint precision. Sephiroth grounded his stance, readied his center of balance, and then took to the sky, jumping off the edges of a cliffside until he’d reached a tree dangling off its edge. He shattered it in two easy strokes and then flipped backwards, landing solidly in the sand. His heart rate had quickened if only slightly. That was a good start.
With nothing to occupy himself with in town, Sephiroth had taken to mapping the surrounding areas for strategic vantage points. The coast, it seemed, was riddled with abandoned beaches and hidden coves rife with monsters but quiet enough to provide him the isolation he craved. The wind struck him with bitter salt. The sand shifted beneath his feet providing resistance and difficult terrain. This wasn’t the perfect place to train, but it would do for now. Sephiroth readied his blade, balanced its weight on his wrists, and shot forward again.
Zack had explained everything he needed to know at the docks. He’d informed him of the missing gaps in his memory, of Shinra’s twisted nature, of the fate of his friends, and of this world at large. Sephiroth still didn’t quite believe it, but given no other plausible explanations he had no choice but to accept Zack's explanation for now. The only question remained what to do next.
Sephiroth closed his eyes and let his sword dictate his movements. His blade created its own wind and he followed it instinctively, stepping like a dancer to its rhythm. For the first time since his arrival, his thoughts came clear and sharp. The panic had left him as had the shock, disgust, and anger. Now there was only him, his blade, and the rolling waves.
Finally, he could think.
His mind drifted to Angeal. To the friend he knew now to be dead. Zack had taken on his likeness perhaps as tribute or perhaps merely by coincidence. Either way, it was jarring every time that Sephiroth saw him from the corner of his eye. It was one of many reasons Sephiroth had taken to avoiding him even as they shared the same living space. Sephiroth didn’t need the reminder, and Zack’s endless conversation exhausted him anyway. How much better would it be if the city was empty and there was only this silence forever?
Still, he supposed that would prove impractical.
His sword clashed against stone, chipping it with the force of his blow, and Sephiroth leaped back again, hand at his temple. This was pointless. Everything here was pointless when he had no direction, no objective, no mission. He’d tried studying the civilians, noting how they passed their time without purpose, but it ended in nothing but awkward glances. Here, he was unknown, unimportant, worthless.
In short, he was himself a civilian. The word rolled like bile in the back of his throat. No. Sephiroth steadied himself, stretched his sword out to the side, and arched it forward until he gripped it in front of him with both hands. Later when he sat at the edge of his bed watching the moon outside the window to the sound of Zack’s snores, that was when he’d let the pain overtake him with thoughts he couldn’t control. But now was not then, and now he would sink into his movements rather than his mind.
And so Sephiroth released his pain in a breath and dashed forward again.
Local blind man shows up to ask stranger why he's being an idiot with his sword.
One, two, three--
Ignis could feel the weight of the old dock shifting under his feet, one step at a time, creaking with each small movement. He tapped the wooden steps with this walking stick, attempting to keep long, powerful strides, despite the uncertain movements and steps. A time or two, his guide failed to tap onto something and he paused, sighing with discontent, moving the stick until it bumped into something else. How many steps was that? Twenty? He’d lost count.
Having only been in this strange new world for a few weeks, and in this city in particular only a few days, Scientia had not been allowed the luxury to become comfortable with his new condition. The doctors in Provo had been able to help him begin his transition into unseen territory, literally, but the living conditions there were difficult to adapt to. The city was too loud, too crowded. Despite Ignis striving to learn more about the unknown place he’d landed in, he could barely attempt a conversation with most. Everyone moved quickly, and worse yet, he suspected them of avoiding him.
Some doctor had thankfully taken pity on him, or at least an interest in his strange injury, and had attempted to fix what was left of the skin around his eyes. Though he couldn’t see the damage for himself, Ignis had a feeling it didn’t appear particularly well for others to look at. His vision, however, appeared to be entirely lost, despite all the physicians attempted. The doctor he’d been working with had contacted another physician in the city of Torensten, and so Scientia was off -- transported to see yet another person who poked and prodded his injuries, and attempted to assess what had happened to him.
At least, Torensten seemed a little easier for him to adapt to, so far. There seemed to be many side streets that were much less crowded, and the people appeared to be somewhat friendlier. Every day, for as long as he could stand it, Ignis was up and moving, walking every which way he could. Many times he’d run into objects and walls, tripped over sidewalk ledges and occasionally smacked people’s legs with his white cane.
He was determined to master his blindness, however, the harsh reality of the situation made itself clear day after day; this was not something easily conquered.
Perhaps it wasn’t wise, but Ignis found it much easier to attempt to relearn how to walk at night, when there weren’t others around. He could focus much easier without the constant hum of activity, and the sounds of a peaceful night at the shore flooded his senses. The gentle crash of the waves against the sand and rock, the occasional hem or haw of a nearby shorebird, and the ricketing of wood and metal in the water, as ships balanced on the waves. He was beginning to understand the difference between sounds -- he could tell where the water hit rock instead of sand, for instance.
It was odd and unnerving to re-learn everything he’d ever known the world to be, but Scientia was determined to get it figured out. Every aspect. He would learn to exist in this world as if sight had never left him, by the end of it. Aside from the occasional, dry humor, that is.
Ignis soaked in the salty smell of the ocean as he departed the dock, walking in the sand, following the trail that he knew led to a rocky outcropping. The scent of algae became stronger as he approached, and suddenly, a sharp sound broke the otherwise calm silence of the night air.
What was that? Scientia wondered to himself as he straightened the dark tinted glasses on his face carefully, straining his ears to catch the sound once more. It came again, the ring of something metallic drifting over the waves. Ignis furrowed his eyebrows -- it sounded like a blade chipping at rock. The way the wind crossed over sharp metal, it had its own subtle, high pitched whine. He could just barely make it out over the sounds of the ocean, but what was more odd was the location. Ignis prodded the rocks in front of him with his sight stick a few times, tapping all around the edges. The sound was coming from beyond that point, but it would involve climbing over the rocks to find it.
… He hadn’t attempted such a feat since he’d become a blind man. Ignis chewed over the thought for a minute. Was it wise, to attempt to find the source of the noise? Clearly, whoever it was had sought seclusion, picking a difficult to reach location. Would he earn their ire by finding them? Yet, at the same time, it was an inviting challenge. To be able to find a person by simply locking onto a sound, then climbing over the rocks to pinpoint it, it would be excellent practice. The need to better himself overrode the more sane voice in his head, advising him that interrupting someone in isolation was likely a terrible idea.
Ignis folded his white cane into itself and slipped it securely into his pocket. He reached for the rocks, managing a decent grip despite their slickness. Slowly, one foot at a time, he climbed the small summit, listening carefully for the sounds of metal in the wind once more. The rocks weren’t overly stable, and they often shifted in his hands or under his weight, but he was managing decent progress. The sounds of steel on rock guided him close enough, as Scientia found a decent spot to begin his descent. Far enough from whoever was there, but close enough to be able to touch sand once more.
Unfolding his cane, he tapped around the edge of the outcropping, finding that he was likely around a corner from the person on the other side. Perhaps a secluded cove of sorts? There was definitely an echo from the other person’s movements and strikes, but he found it likely that his own footsteps over the rocks had likely been hidden by the sounds of the waves. Ignis took only a moment to pat himself on the back for not plummeting into the ocean or breaking his leg -- it was the little things -- before he dared to cross out from behind the rocking outcropping where the other person was still … practicing?
“Pardon the intrusion,” Ignis began, stopping only a few steps past where he’d come from, his sight cane barely tapping the sand in front of him, “But I must ask; why are you causing such potential harm to your blade?”
It was something that had begun to bother him, the more he heard the sword strike against the rock. It was something he’d have admonished anyone else for, and it felt like he had before. Striking a blade against stone did nothing good for it, it simply made it dull. The way the metal had struck the rock made him believe it may have been a greatsword of sorts, or something else with an equally long blade. The person behind it had to be quite strong.
And there he was, admonishing them for it.
“I would imagine having a sword re-sharpened in this place may be difficult, or expensive,” Ignis muttered, more to himself, tapping at the sand until he found the rocky wall once more.
But its too late, to go back. I can see the darkness, through the cracks. Daylight fading, I curse the breaking. The day is gone.
Sephiroth felt at peace with the night. He knew every crash of its waves, every rustle of its leaves, the exact shifting of sand beneath his feet. He kept his eyes closed, his focus centered. In that moment, there was nothing but him, his thoughts, and the night.
Then came the footsteps.
They were clumsy and loud, scratching over stone with an inexpert scrabbling. Sephiroth felt his eyebrows twitch. How had anyone found him here? To anyone of average balance, climbing those unstable cliffs would be suicide, and yet, the scrabbling came ever closer. This was not Zack -- at least, not if the soldier had any semblance of self-respect. But if not him, then who?
Sephiroth paid it no mind. Whoever had chosen to risk their life to reach this place had no business with him. Still, those footsteps scraped against his focus like a droning insect. He felt his jaw clench with every passing second. Then they stopped at the level ground behind him.
Sephiroth readied himself for the inevitable reactions. Would it be awe this time? Confusion? Fear? His focus slipped and he swung it two centimeters out of place. Perhaps if he merely ignored them. Perhaps then he would be left alone.
“Pardon the intrusion.” The voice was sharp and controlled. Sephiroth stopped without turning. What did he want? Advice? Directions? Protection?”But I must ask; why are you causing such potential harm to your blade?”
Sephiroth paused. Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn’t been that.
”I would imagine having a sword re-sharpened in this place may be difficult, or expensive,” he went on before the strange tapping continued. Sephiroth hesitated, considering his words, before a soft laugh escaped him. He touched at his brow, laughing into the flat of his glove.
Perhaps this man was worth his attention after all.
He turned slowly to face him, glancing him over quickly. The man had a certain poise to him, a certain restraint in both voice and stature that Sephiroth couldn’t help but respect. He leaned on something that Sephiroth thought might have been a weapon, but was actually a cane. It was then that he noticed the man’s unsteady balance, the scar stretching around his eye, and the tinted glasses despite the veil of night.
This man was blind.
”I sharpen it myself every night.” The shadow of a smirk trailed at his lips. ”My blade wouldn't break so easily.”
He drifted past the man towards the cove’s entrance until he stood only a few feet away, facing out towards the ocean. He hadn’t yet decided if he’d have preferred the quiet, but this was a promising start. At the very least, the man knew something of swords.
”Why did you come here?” Their ledge dropped to a sheer cliff face at the edge of his heels. The ocean crashed against it. ”There's nothing worth finding.”
