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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Ever since the wings appeared, ever since the memories came flooding back to his mind, Angeal hadn’t been able to stop running. He landed occasionally, always making sure it was somewhere secluded where no one could see the monstrous wings sprouting from his back. Yet, he could never keep his boots on the ground long, becoming flustered and upset by the surging thoughts in his mind, the constant, guilty memories.
Genesis. Sephiroth. Zack. He’d abandoned them all, because he could no longer take the suffering.
It never took long for him to begin cursing himself and taking to the skies once more; a Soldier caught in an endless nightmare. In the air, his mind felt clearer. Angeal could process everything that he was -- a monster, a human experiment, a failed mentor and an even worse friend. But with the wind in his hair and nothing but blue and clouds as far as the eye could see, it somehow felt … lighter. He couldn’t focus on the past as long, when he was in the sky. Though his heart ached, though the flashes of those terrible memories passed through his mind -the tears spilling down Zack’s cheeks as Angeal took his last, shuddering breaths, no- they never lasted long.
It felt good to fly.
The earth represented reality, and everytime he landed to catch his breath, it reminded him. He gasped for air through the memories, of abandoning Sephiroth, of turning against Genesis, the truth about his birth, his mother’s dead body on the floor. The Buster Sword on his back felt like a farce. Why did it come back to him in the first place? Angeal felt like he was drowning as he fought the memories down, as he relived the pain. Was this some sort of Hell?
Exhausted, he took flight again and again. Angeal lost track of the time, the days, the direction. He flew high above the villages and towns, avoiding people for as long as he could. Hunger pried at his stomach. His mouth felt dry from dehydration. His eyes were heavy from lack of sleep. The only thing that kept him going was his experimental body; always keeping him on the cusp of living. The suffering was held at bay, the longer he flew. The less he slept. If he didn’t close his eyes, he couldn’t see their faces.
In a daze, the Soldier never saw the coming storm. The white clouds turned grey and angry. The wind began to whip and the rain fell heavily. Blearily, Angeal navigated the storm best he could, unable to see through the downpour in the clouds. The sky rumbled furiously, and lightning flashed. The wind pushed harder and harder, and Angeal felt what little control he had in the sky suddenly ripped from his hands. Knocked off balance, he tried to right himself, yelling out against the storm. The rain stung his face and the wind whipped him again and again.
He was torn from his safe space high in the sky and thrown down … down …
Crash.
Angeal landed amongst a lot of heavy crates stacked on the side of a building, leaving splintered planks in his wake. Barely conscious, he groaned in obvious pain, blood weeping from his cuts and scrapes. The rain still fell heavily around him, soaking him to the bone, plastering him to the concrete pavement. Blinking his glowing eyes, Hewley found it difficult to think straight, to will his body to move. His fingers twitched against the broken wood, his chest rose heavily with each gasping breath. His wings hung heavily under his body, soaked and white feathers askew.
He needed to get up … and leave, before anyone saw him. But it was …
Was it his sight that was blurry, or was it simply the rain? Were there voices, or were they all in his head?
Did he even want to get up at all?
How long can you swallow the pain? Before it comes round again, And a shadow in the valley will lead you to them, So don't follow.
The day had started like any other day, busy and bustling marketplaces and vendors selling their wares. There was no thought in her mind that a terrible storm would be brewing. She had no idea the casualties it would cause.
Rosa meandered through the market with a wicker basket in the crook of her elbow. There were already some ripe fruits and fresh baked bread, among some small trinkets for one of the children she was tending to. Little did she know, the orphanage would probably gather even more inhabitants...
A few of the children skittered behind her, their focus never on one thing for too long. There were lots of fun things to see, and many pleasant smells to stop and experience. A pleasant smile remained upon her pink lips as she went about her day.
And then she felt a small droplet on her nose. A glance up to the sky, and she realized that maybe it was time to wrap things up. What was previously blue and bright was now becoming darkened and violent. The wind began to pick up, and she had to hold the towel stop her basket to keep it from blowing it or any of her goods away. Rosa turned her gaze toward the ground, noticing small specks of wet dirt slowly increasing. "Children," she called to the group, "Let's finish up and hurry home."
A few of them ran ahead while one or two clutched onto the fabric of her cloak. The rain was starting to pour now, and now her cloak was a makeshift umbrella for them. The torrent continued to increase to the point where she and the children were now running in the muddied streets to get home. The boom of thunder lingered in the distance, but steadily grew closer.
Then suddenly, she heard a crash. And it was not thunder.
Rosa slowed herself down as she peered around, ushering the children to keep moving. However, one of them had stopped by an alleyway and was staring. "An angel..." she said softly as Rosa approached. When she laid her eyes on him, she gasped.
A small crowd had gathered as Rosa made her way to the fallen man... With wings... Mesmerized as she was, she did not let that cloud her thoughts. She hastily placed the basket on the ground and immediately pulled a small stave from the confines of her cloak. An ethereal, green glow burst forth and enveloped him as she closed her eyes to concentrate. He'd soon feel a relief of the pains he felt, but his injuries would not be immediately healed in this situation. There was too much going on for Rosa to completely focus.
When she had determined she had spread enough healing to at least get him conscious again, she leaned over him, blonde hair sopping wet and falling past her shoulders. "Hello? Can you hear me?"
Angeal is dumb and doesn't think anyone would want to help him
Angeal closed his eyes as the rain continued to pour down on top of him. His body ached too much to move, and he truly lacked the energy to keep his eyes open. No matter how hard he’d crashed, no matter how much he was bleeding, it would all be for naught. Nothing so simple could kill him, one of Shinra’s monsters. The urgency he’d felt initially to get up and fly away slipped through the Soldier’s mental grasp as he sighed, his breathing slow. Each breath was painful, keeping him just on the cusp of truly passing out.
The patter of hard rain blocked out the sounds of footsteps. Perhaps, if he’d heard them, he would have found the energy to rise and run, just as he’d been doing for days on end. However, it wasn’t until he felt some sort of warmth that Angeal began to realize he may not have been alone. A fleeting feeling moved through his body, taking away the edge of the aches and pains and restoring a little bit of his lost energy. The Soldier groaned, shifting in the mess of planks and wood he’d made during his crash. His eyes flickered opened, gaze initially only on the sky until he heard a voice.
Hello? Can you hear me?
Angeal sat up, wincing in pain and gritting his teeth to keep from making a ruckus. He stared forward a moment, blinking his glowing, blue eyes to clear out the blurred images before him. As the scene came into focus he saw a blonde woman, dressed in a soaked, black cloak, leaning over him. The Soldier opened his mouth, but initially, no response came out. Instead, his gaze fell, seeing the small crowd located behind the woman. A group of children, staring at him in a mixture of curiosity, concern, and wonder.
An icy fear gripped Angeal’s heart in that instant. All of those little eyes, staring at a monster half-dead in an alleyway. He turned his eyes back to the blonde woman, wondering if she was the one who had given him just enough energy to wake back up. However, curiosity quickly gave way to panic as he attempted to sit up further -- to put distance between himself and the woman with her children.
“Yes, I’m --,” Angeal hissed in pain as he moved his legs, getting his weight back underneath of himself as he attempted to stand. He pressed himself against the stone wall of the structure in the alley, slowly bringing himself to his feet. The Soldier took a few quick, harsh breaths to fight back the pain in his extremities, “I’m sorry. I’ll be -- be on my way. You and the kids should … get out of the rain.”
The words came out weakly, strained by the exhaustion of no sleep for days on end. Angeal folded his wings as close to his back as he could, not wanting to potentially terrify the children anymore than he already had with his presence. Behind him he spied his sword, laying pathetically in the busted boxes, soaked by the rain. However, as Angeal turned to approach the Buster Sword and rescue it from its place on the ground, he stumbled, losing what little energy he’d had to move coherently. He threw his gloved hands against the wall to catch himself, but still fell to one knee, breathing raggedly as he cursed inwardly.
He needed to get out of there … He’d already inconvenienced a kind woman and her gaggle of children. Angeal stared at the concrete under his boots, his dark hair plastered to his face. Logically, he knew he was in no condition to fly anywhere out of view of other people. The wind howled, and the sky lit up with nearby lightning. There would be nowhere outdoors that would be safe for him …
Should he just let the storm claim him? Or should he stand strong and protect the little flame that still burned inside his heart -- the one that wanted to live, and make things right?
His arms trembling with the effort to keep himself upright, Angeal turned his gaze back to the blonde woman. Something inside of him was finally giving way; a dam crumbling, and releasing his humanity, his pride.
“Is there anywhere … I could go?” He asked her quietly over the rain. The Soldier didn’t want to be a burden to an already overburdened woman, taking care of children and soaked to the bone. She’d already woken him up, helped him in some way. But, maybe she knew of a shelter or something nearby.
How long can you swallow the pain? Before it comes round again, And a shadow in the valley will lead you to them, So don't follow.
Every movement made Rosa flinch; but not out of fright, and she didn't flinch away. She wanted to reach out to the injured man, to help his attempts at standing. And so she did; he struggled to stand and she was right there beside him. Though she might have been shirt, she could still offer some stability for him to try again. She gently nudged herself beneath his arm and hooked it across her shoulder. "I know of a place you can stay," she offered with a small smile. "Just lean on me.
Rosa motioned toward the large sword, which looked rather heavy and would probably be a burden for him to carry, being so injured. But the orphan boys, who watched on in awe and not fear, were eager to help if they could. "Be careful with that," she warned as they attempted to grab the hilt and drag it along. Once they were moving at a slow, albeit steady, pace toward the orphanage, Rosa looked up through her soaked blonde strands of hair and smiled softly, trying to ease any unease he may have been feeling about all of this. She could sense the pain he still felt as his body tensed every so often. They were almost to the orphanage, with warm blankets and a soft bed to rest in. He just needed to trust her.
Angeal is dumb and doesn't think anyone would want to help him
As Angeal struggled to hold himself upright, a presence came to his side. He glanced down, rivulets of water streaming down his face as he took in the sight of the small, blonde woman propping herself underneath his side. She gently hooked his arm over her shoulders as if she’d done it a million times before, and gave him a reassuring smile.
The Soldier stared at her for a moment, in complete disbelief. He was clearly in pain, yes, but he was a monster who had crash landed in an alley, made a mess of things. She was soaked to the bone, with her own little burdens to consider, and yet … She stepped in to help him, immediately, without a second thought. If he had the energy, Angeal wasn’t sure if he’d thank her or admonish her for being so naive.
Don’t be ridiculous, a little voice in his head growled, You’d do the exact same thing, monster or not.
“Thank you,” the appreciation came out as a hoarse whisper over the heavy rain. The boys that were with the blonde moved to grab his sword, and she warned them to be careful with it. If he’d had the energy, Angeal would have cringed at the thought of his sword being dragged across the concrete -- but in the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He could fix it later. If it was worth it.
The blonde woman moved with him, and Angeal only used her to balance himself when the aches and pains became too much to bear. Otherwise, he kept all of his massive weight to himself, not wanting to cause the wholesome young woman any pain or struggle. He kept his head down for the most part, and his glowing eyes caught sight of her reassuring smile once more. It was like a ray of sunshine parting through the miserable clouds, both literally and metaphorically. She provided a wonderful distraction from the mental torture and anguish he’d been putting himself through.
They passed a window on the outside of the building, and Angeal took a brief glance at the inside. Light. Warmth, probably. There was still the little voice in the back of his head that told him off, --you don’t deserve this help, you should leave and just let the elements take you, don’t burden this woman--, but for the moment, he quelled it.
“Who are you?” the Soldier found the strength to ask as he dragged his boots along the pavement.
How long can you swallow the pain? Before it comes round again, And a shadow in the valley will lead you to them, So don't follow.
The humble orphanage was soon in her sights, and whatever fatigue she may have felt melted away and she was ignited with vigor once more. He questioned who she was; she did not respond just yet. "Just a little bit more," she cooed softly, a light frown furrowing her brow as she felt him tense and twitch next to her. She could only imagine the pain he was in. If she could help shoulder some of it, she would.
A few of the children had ran ahead to open the doors for the pair. There were a few steps they needed to walk up, in which Rosa prepared herself to stand firmly and take on more of his weight. "Careful, there's a step-- and another," she mentioned softly. Her gaze tore away from him for a moment as she turned to one of the little boys. "Luca, please rest his sword against the wall. Corinne, will you get a kettle on the fire?" she turned to one of the young girls as Luca had set off to his task.
Inside the cold stone building, there was light, and there was warmth. A lit hearth was in the back corner of the room, a place where most of the children gathered on a tattered, moth-eaten sofa. A small kitchenette with broken plates and cupboards was off to the side, next to a hallway that lead to a room filled with beds. She had half a mind to lead him to that room, but the heater in that room was not yet ready for anyone to rest in it. The storm had come so suddenly, no one had prepared for such alarming weather. However, it was as if some of the older children had read her mind, for they set to work on carrying a few logs to the furnace in the next room.
Rosa, however, continued to hobble toward the hearth and she, as gently as she could, ushered the man onto the couch, leaning into and over him to guide him with as little pain as possible. She eyed his wing, which would prove to be an obstacle about how to lay him down comfortably and without squashing it. After he got as settled as he could, she smiled and tenderly touched his shoulder. "Please, try and rest. Do not move too much. I'm not going to leave you." The reason for her words would become apparent as she left his side, and a rustling could be heard coming from the kitchen area. In just a few moments, Rosa came back with a stool, a warm cloth and her ornate stave. She settled herself on the stool right beside him, gently pat his forehead with the warmed cloth. "I'm Rosa," she finally spoke her name, a nurturing smile on her lips. Yet there was also the tiniest hint of concern. "Where does it still hurt?" she questioned, placing the cloth in her lap. The sudden warmth made her shiver, and reminded her that the rest of her was still absolutely soaked, and her wet clothes were beginning to feel quite cold. She would bear it, though, for she had to see this task through and help him however she could.
The woman gave no immediate answer as to her name. She only encouraged him further, helping to pull him along through the downpour and toward the humble little building. Angeal let his head fall for a moment; right, why would she give her name to something like him? A monster she felt forced into helping, because the children had mistakenly attributed him to something holy rather than something born from true sin.
The thoughts were ridiculous. A part of the Soldier knew that. Thankfully, he couldn’t dwell on them long, not with the pain and exhaustion so heavy in his limbs. He grunted with effort as the blonde woman helped him conquer the stairs, feeling the sharp pains in his legs from his collision with the boxes and concrete mere moments earlier. Again, he attempted to keep as much of his weight off of her as he could, yet he found himself leaning in for help more than he’d wished. The door was opened by the children, allowing them an easy and swift entrance.
The rain stopped pounding against his skull, but the errant thoughts did not. As Angeal dragged his boots along the dilapidated floor, he kept his glowing eyes down. He couldn’t bear to look up and see the gazes of the children in the room, nor could he meet the eyes of his savior. His large, white wings were weak and stretched out fully, bogged down with water, feathers being dragged along behind him. The young woman murmured orders to some of the children, but Angeal was unable to focus on her words.
Around him the world warmed, if only a little. The light was dim, but present, flickering. The sounds of footsteps moved around him as the woman led him further toward the warmth -- to a blazing hearth. Hewley glanced forward and noticed a sad-looking couch, which he was being slowly taken to. It was awkward and difficult, and not without a few pained gasps from Angeal, but somehow he managed to lay down on the bedraggled couch. His right side, where his two wings protruded from his back, stuck on slightly on the edge of the couch, allowing the appendages space to lay uselessly on the floor.
The Soldier let out a long, steady breath as he settled into the lumpy cushion, his hands trembling as he forced them over his chest. Angeal blinked his glowing eyes once, twice, before the young woman appeared in his line of sight again. She smiled at him, warmly, and lightly touched his shoulder, before getting up and wandering away.
I’m not going to leave you.
Those words kept Angeal grounded to his spot on the couch -- not that he could have lifted himself up easily, anyway. The thoughts swam in his head, most self deprecating, but many wondering how he could quickly leave, as well. The woman was kind, but she didn’t need to be wasting her time on something like him. There were children around who needed her, and many of them, if the sounds of the footsteps in the home had indicated anything.
The longer she stayed away, the more his senses returned to him. Through the aches and pains he felt the sting of a frigid cold from his soaked clothing. His hair was ungracefully plastered to his face. Angeal could hear the steady drip, drip, drip of water falling from the feathers of his wings as it hit the ground. He was soaked to the bone, trembling like some sort of back alley dog left out in the rain.
The young woman returned, and with her came a warmth he hadn’t felt in quite some time. She pressed a warm cloth to his head, causing Angeal to shudder violently. It felt leagues hotter than the rest of his body. How long had he been flying in the frigid air before he’d gotten into that storm..?
Rosa, the young woman finally identified herself with a kind, nurturing smile. Angeal stared at her, speechless, nothing but a storm of conflicting emotions hidden deep within his blue eyes. He swallowed dryly as she asked about his pain, struggling to find any words, as if his mouth were filled with cotton.
Finally, he managed something, the words coming out as barely more than a hoarse whisper, “I’m … fine. You need to go change … out of those clothes.”
Angeal was clearly far from fine, as he trembled on the couch, each breath hurting a little more as it moved his aching back. But, he couldn’t stand the thought of her risking her health for him. Those eyes … Those, kind, caring eyes. The pain squeezed at his limbs, and he grit his teeth. Still, he persisted.
“You’ll get sick. You have children to worry about. I’m fine.”
How long can you swallow the pain? Before it comes round again, And a shadow in the valley will lead you to them, So don't follow.
Rosa continued to gently press the cloth against his forehead, moving slowly to his cheek and slightly to his ear and neck. When the towel had begun to cool off, another was waiting in the hands of a patient and curious child. A brief nod was given in thanks, and she motioned with her head toward a stack of clean, dry towels. He expressed she needed to get dry; the same could be said for him.
To appease him, albeit briefly, Rosa shed her cloak from her shoulders and wrung out her hair. Blonde tresses flipped back over her shoulder and stuck to her back, a few strands that were shorter than her shoulders fell forward as she leaned over him. "You'll need to get dry too. But I'm not sure if we have any clothes large enough..." She bit her bottom lip softly as she thought. The oldest boy she had in the orphanage was still just a young teen; his clothes would not fit even if they tried. She'd have to think of a solution in due time.
His concern for her made her smile softly, and she fought back a small chuckle. "The children will be fine for a few hours." They were stuck inside, anyway, so if any of them needed her immediate attention, she wouldn't be far.
Rosa wrung a bit more water from her clothing before she settled back onto her stool again, picking up her stave once more. She breathed deeply as she began to focus on her thoughts within. Before she got too deep, however, her green eyes cracked open to smile down at Angeal. "Close your eyes, and relax. This might get bright."
Before long, an even bigger and warmer green aura erupted from her stave. She had healed him slightl in the alley before; but with her stave able to harness her energy into healing, she was able to produce a much stronger heal. Soon, she hoped, he'd no longer feel the crushing of his ribs, how difficult it was to breathe. His wings would be able to soar; his legs able to run. After a few moments of concentration, Rosa's stave dropped to her lap and she exhaled deeply. She had not put that much energy into her White Magic in quite a long time. But it was necessary for today.
Rosa looked down at the strange man in front of her. She slowly reached out to push some of the wet, matted hair away from his forehead, to get a better look at the man she had invited into her home so freely. She wanted to see his eyes, remembering how they had seemed to glow among the darkness...
Realizing she might have overstepped a boundary, Rosa quickly pulled away as a bit of color went to her cheeks. She looked away briefly, and began to rise to her feet. "Please rest while I change, and make us some tea. When you've gained some strength, we will need you out of those wet clothes..." Her face flushed again. Thankfully she was turned and he wouldn't see. "I'll hang them up to dry, and in the meantime see if I can find something suitable..." She dared to turn just enough to peek at him through the corner of her eye, before making her way to her own private quarters to change.
Okay now that he's feeling better he can start being cute
No matter how many times he attempted to sway her way, it seemed, the young woman continued to circle back to helping him. She simply refused to let him suffer and die out on the street. Angeal’s eyes stayed on her for a few moments, tracing the rivulets of water that dripped from her hair down her face, his own expression dismayed. Again, she continued to worry about him, rather than herself. That he needed to get dry as well, that he needed rest. Nothing he said seemed to dissuade her.
A part of him wanted to ask; do you not see what I am? Do you not care that there is a monster on your couch, near your children?
Rosa removed her wet, heavy cloak from her shoulders. It was hardly a help, obviously, as the downpour had soaked through every layer. She pulled her hair close, wringing it out on the floor. Had he the heart in the moment, Angeal would have been amused. Her hair was ridiculously long, and though not silver, it reminded him of Sephiroth, looking like a soaked dog in the rain.
The brief joy of such a memory was gone in an instant, however, as the cold seeped into Angeal’s very bones. The warmth of the nearby hearth was alright, but the longer he was still, the more the chill settled into his clothing. The only distraction Angeal had was Rosa moving, grabbing the stave she’d set nearby. Confused, but with little energy to fight it, the Soldier did as he was instructed.
He closed his eyes. Relaxing was near impossible, his muscles locked up from cold and pain, but he tried to focus on relaxing them.
A few moments passed, and Angeal could see the hint of some green light even through his closed eyes. Whatever was happening, only for a few moments, must have been quite bright. The light was quickly forgotten, though, as the Soldier released a small gasp of surprise. His body suddenly felt warm, a tingling sensation across his skin. The next breath he took was less painful than the one before it. His back stopped its howling complaints. Even his wings relaxed, feathers righting themselves. Angeal opened his eyes, his mouth slipping open just a bit in absolute shock.
There Rosa sat, concentration leaving her fair face as she slid the stave across her lap, before looking at him with those gentle, calm green eyes. He could do nothing but stare in surprise as she reached toward him, moving his wet hair from his face with careful fingers and a barely-there touch.
Just as quickly as it happened, Rosa pulled away, her own eyes wide. Angeal could do nothing but watch and listen as she told him, once more to simply relax while she changed and made them some tea. He didn’t catch the hint of embarrassment she shed speaking about drying his clothes, however. The Soldier barely managed to get any words through his lips before the young woman departed.
He scrambled to get one arm up on the couch, in order to lean up enough to see her retreating figure. Though he didn’t hurt much anymore, there was still some residual fatigue and ache that made it hard to twist and turn as quickly as he’d wanted. That, and his wings awkwardly bashed into the side of the couch.
“Rosa, wait--,” Angeal finally spoke, finding his voice through the mire of his emotions and thoughts, “I … I never told you…”.
He looked down for a moment. How long had he just … wished to die? To be forgotten? And now he …
“I’m Angeal,” the Soldier murmured, reclaiming his name, the one thread of life that he had seemed unable to cut while he’d been wallowing in his misery, “... Thank you. For helping me.”
How long can you swallow the pain? Before it comes round again, And a shadow in the valley will lead you to them, So don't follow.
And so she did. Rosa stopped herself just before she passed the threshold that separated the living space and her private quarters. Soft green eyes landed gently upon him, receiving his words with a light smile. The smile grew just a bit wider as she realized... He had given her his name. Angeal... like an angel, he had fallen in to her life...
A hand lifted to be a barrier between the frame and her face, as she leaned her small frame against the door. She nodded, eyes closing. "There is no need to thank me." Like an ethereal being, she slipped gracefully from the wall and turned to enter her room.
When she reappeared, she had changed into dry clothes, a simple, flowing dress and her hair was pinned up and out of the way, yet pieces still found themselves becoming untucked as they dried out. Rosa glanced to her company as she made her way to the kitchen area. One of the children had prepared a kettle, and it was steaming nicely. She placed a dried bag of herbal tea inside and let it steep for just a few moments as she flittered about, cleaning and tidying things up. There was no way she would have guessed she'd have company, and the orphanage looked it... It was difficult to keep up with things and look after a dozen or so children. But she perservered.
Humming softly, Rosa carried the cup of hot tea over to the hearth and handed it to Angeal. "I hope you like tea," she smiled before settling herself on the stool in front of the couch, sitting with her side to him. In her hands was her own cup, which she held with both hands. She gently blew the steam and took a very small sip.
After feeling the warmth of the liquid run down her throat, a pleasant hum escaping through her lips, she turned back to Angeal. She glanced over him, taking a few extra seconds to admire his wings, before she finally spoke once more. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"
