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!
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Come on, Genesis. Won't you be Kuja's pawn? Pretty please. =D He needs them desperately.
Why should the world exist without me?
Genesis had grown irritable. There was a certain darkness behind his eyes now and a sharpness that spoke of impatience. Had Kuja been anyone else, he might have found the obvious signs of irritation hurtful or even intimidating. As it was, however, Kuja could only smirk in satisfaction. Genesis had begun the conversation on the literal high-ground with nothing to offer and nothing to lose. He had seemed so unshakable then, but that time was not now. Now he seemed almost snake-like with his darting eyes and scowling expression. It seemed the man was not so impervious as he had seemed.
A pity. Kuja had almost thought him worth the time. For a moment, he'd even considered...
But no. That was ridiculous. Kuja would never find anyone worth relating to.
“Was it a vision, or a waking dream?” Genesis crossed his arms and mused towards the sky. “Fled is that music—do I wake, or sleep?” Kuja spared him a glance and considered those words. Such an odd question...
"I would think that it should hardly matter. A vision can prove as powerful as any known truth." There it was again, that irritable something deep in Kuja's subconscious. He lingered on them -- those visions which he could not remove from himself. Crimson red feathers. A warm crystalline orange. And...leaves? Yes, he had unearthed the smell of leaves during his last journey through the fog. Back on that moonlit hill, spurned by the words of that knight, Kuja had closed his eyes and for only a moment he could have sworn he'd heard the rustle of leaves.
Kuja could not place a single image, yet they held immense importance -- he knew. The music had fled, yet these visions remained. Like a shadow of a dream.
Kuja expected more of the man's poetry, but nothing came. Instead, the man took a step back, grasping at his shoulder. Kuja looked at him in concern, but Genesis seemed to have forgotten him. His face was awash with pain. "Genesis?" Kuja asked cautiously. The man froze, staring in front of him as though he had seen a ghost. It only lasted a moment, but Kuja felt his magic burn inside of him. 'Unstable' was the word which came to mind. 'Possibly dangerous.' The man had given him the look of a spooked animal, cornered and ready to strike. Kuja kept a spell ready behind his lips.
The man let go of his shoulder and turned back to him, grinning again. “Soldier? I’m hardly soldier material." Genesis continued as though nothing had happened, but the color had drained from his face, and his voice held less of its earlier confidence. "Me, fighting for someone else, for something that has nothing to do with me? Hardly." The words were flippant, but the intonation...
There was something more behind them -- something dark. Had Kuja hit a chord with this man? Was it something he'd said...?
"If what this insane man of yours said is true, and gods are fighting with each other once more in some sort of cycle, and they decided to bring me into to it?” Genesis left his own question unanswered, but the implication remained clear. 'If what you say is true, then those gods will face fire.' Kuja could have laughed, if he hadn't been overcome by caution. Yes, that was the reaction he'd been seeking. Of course, it was possible that his story was nothing more than fable, but if it was true...
Then Kuja would need others seeking the blood of their puppeteers. Kuja knew strength and he knew power, but he also knew that he could not fight such a battle alone. He'd prefer not to fight using his own hands at all.
“If they want me to do something for them, they should have thought better of messing with my head and tossing me in here without promising me something out of all this nonsense.”
But that was always the way with tyrants, wasn't it? Let me play with your life, toss you about, and then offer you nothing. Even Kuja offered his puppets sweet lies, if nothing else. Anyone who couldn't give even that deserved every bit their subjects' vengeance.
"That is, assuming that my sources were correct, of course. But yes. I quite agree." Kuja turned away from him then in order to observe the great, arching gate. He took a step towards it, eyes bright with focus. "There is clearly power here. I came to observe the legends, and they did not speak entirely false. Something lies beyond that gate. I have some experience in magical teleportation and rifts to other dimensions..." How odd did it feel to say aloud? Stranger than he could say, but between all of this world-jumping madness, Kuja doubted that anyone would question him. And at least for the moment, keeping quiet wouldn't help him in the slightest. "This feels much the same, though I could be mistaken. The power here has been sealed, but I do wonder: could it have opened for only a short while? The first rule of such magic is that the rift must be made in some specific place and time. Could that have been here?"
Kuja touched thoughtfully at his lips. They pursed in great concentration. "No matter the truth of that story, there remains one undeniable fact: we are here where we do not belong. That means that something called us here -- be it mortal, god, or inhuman force. I have heard the story time and time again. Awakening in some odd place here with no recollection of arrival. Stumbling along with some or all memories lost. Even I seem to have..." But no. That information held no relevance here. Genesis did not need to know what Kuja had lost. "I feel nothing for this world. The whole of it can burn for all I care. But I will not be toyed with in this way, and I will take vengeance on who-or-what ever is responsible."
Kuja turned to Genesis. The man was a poet, yes, but also something more. Dangerous, perhaps, and certainly unstable, but also confident and easily scorned. "I feel that you are the same. If I should find the source of this manipulation, would you join me, Genesis, in seeking retribution? Assuming that you are not adverse to slaying gods."
The idea felt ridiculous -- laughable, even -- and yet Kuja did not flinch from it. If there were gods and they had toyed with him, then he would seek their blood. It was as simple as that. "If not, then you may continue on your way. And I thank you very kindly for the poetry."
I chime in with a "Haven't you people ever heard of closing a goddamn door?!" No, it's much better to face these kinds of things With a sense of poise and rationality
[attr="class","vcred"]Kuja - 1000 Mutual-ish partnership? Poetry-buddies with Benefits? LOL
[attr="class","vpostb"]
[attr="class","vpostbg"] His small episode hadn’t been brought up, the other doing nothing more than continuing with what they had been discussing. The Memory-Genesis’ anger was still there, underneath lock and key where they’d hopefully not come out again, not for a long while yet. Phantoms tingled across his skin, raising the hair on the back of his neck and he inhaled, exhaled—timing each one into a rhythm until it seemed normal, and that he wasn’t about to bare his teeth and strike out in a blind rage.
Genesis knew that if that ever happened again, he’d be helpless against holding it back. The next time his mind wouldn’t be so kind; like a dam building up water, it’d gather and then explode all over the place, and anyone around him would be subjected to whatever was to come out of the cage.
“That is, assuming that my sources were correct, of course. But yes. I quite agree.” Only a blind fool wouldn’t. Or someone stupid enough to smile it off and shrug their shoulders. Kuja turned away, looking to the gate and Genesis followed suit, his head tilting back as his eyes travelled up, and stopped when they reached the sky and stayed there. “There is clearly power here. I came to observe the legends, and they did not speak entirely false. Something lies beyond the gate. I have some experience in magical teleportation and rifts to other dimensions…” He felt the same about the gate—that something was behind it but neither of them could point a finger and say exactly what. He shared more than Genesis thought he would—magical teleportation, rifts?
Genesis couldn’t claim to have done anything like that, not with his head in the state it was in. He wasn’t about to say that, though, and hummed thoughtfully as he crossed his arms once more and took a few steps back, leaning against the pillar he’d been atop of. “This feels much the same, though I could be mistaken. The power here has been sealed, but I do wonder: could it have opened for only a short while? The first rule of such magic is that the rift must be made in some specific place and time. Could that have been here?”
Magic was like that—rules and requirements that needed to be followed and fulfilled. It was apparent that they met neither, as nothing was happening and hadn’t for some time. If it had, people would know. There’d be written texts, tombs and tales, songs sung and bedtime stories to frighten children to stay in bed. He wasn’t about to add anything to what had been said, though. Nothing was to be said that Kuja didn’t already know, himself.
"No matter the truth of that story, there remains one undeniable fact: we are here where we do not belong. That means that something called us here -- be it mortal, god, or inhuman force. I have heard the story time and time again. Awakening in some odd place here with no recollection of arrival. Stumbling along with some or all memories lost. Even I seem to have..." Kuja paused, and Genesis’ eyes slanted to look at him. Yes, the story of people arriving here was everywhere. Even in snowy Sonora, but that place soaked up every piece of interesting information it could and made it the towns hot topic for months. Kuja thought, if he’d arrived, then that meant he was in a similar state to Genesis’ own. Maybe not as bad, the poet thought. He seemed to know quite a bit about himself, had memories that made sense.
"I feel nothing for this world. The whole of it can burn for all I care. But I will not be toyed with in this way, and I will take vengeance on who-or-what ever is responsible." And now he was speaking of something he could agree whole-heartedly with. The other turned around, and Genesis stared back at him still in the same position that he adopted; the other still wasn’t done.
“I feel that you are the same. If I should find the source of this manipulation, would you join me, Genesis, in seeking retribution? Assuming that you are not adverse to slaying gods.”
“My soul, corrupted by vengeance hath endure torment, to find the end of the journey…” Genesis didn’t know how to approach his offer. On one hand there was the promise of retribution, vengeance that he was craving for. On the other… Kuja, was someone that he didn’t trust. A stranger he’d met in front of a gate, one that stirred his memories and gave him the sense that he was much more than he appeared. The experience in rifts and teleportation magic only served to prove this further.
For now, though… as Genesis stared him in the eyes, peering through and in, trying to see something more—there was a way he could use this, just as the other would use him in the time it came for them to reach the climax. He was only suspicious of the ending, and what exactly this alliance of theirs would entail.
“If not, then you may continue on your way. And I thank you kindly for the poetry.”
Genesis needed to know how to get his revenge, and Kuja desired someone in ‘seeking retribution’. He wasn’t going to bend over for him, but Genesis could see the benefit in this if he remained the poet and whatever else he thought of him for a little while longer. So he smiled, spread his arms and answered, “Quite the opposite, the chance makes my heart hasten with the thrill of the challenge, the revenge only makes it sweeter.” Psychotic, maybe, but he spoke with a sort of confidence with an unsuspecting form, the mask of a poet with sweet words when his buttons weren’t being pushed.
“If there are gods or mortals that need to be felled, then I shall help you with your conquest. It goes to say that I shall inform you if I should uncover anything, as well.” Meaning—he wasn’t going to follow him around, and was going to leave after they had both tired of this location. That he was just as capable of looking around as well, and wouldn’t be dependent on the other. That would leave room for owning things, favors and debts to be repaid and Genesis didn’t want to owe this man anything.
No, I don't know what he's implying at the end. Kuja might be a bit of a whore.
Why should the world exist without me?
“My soul, corrupted by vengeance hath endure torment, to find the end of the journey…”
Kuja glanced at Genesis, a frown playing at his lips. The man's remaining memories seemed to have no shortage of poems, and he certainly had no restrains on using them. Kuja hardly minded, however, and relished in the unfamiliar verses. They spoke promisingly of the man's state of mind. 'Corrupted by vengeance.' 'The end of the journey.' These were all phrases which Kuja could more than relate to.
Genesis looked him straight in the eyes, and Kuja met them without hesitation. He had long ago mastered the art of his own expressions, and he returned Genesis' interest with a placating smile. The man's eyes stared into his own, and for a moment, Kuja lost himself in that endless expanse of striking blue. They shone with an unnatural brightness not completely unlike his own. But Kuja's had been scientifically created through genetic engineering and exposure to high doses of magic. This man, however...
“Quite the opposite," Genesis smiled and spread his arms in agreement, "The chance makes my heart hasten with the thrill of the challenge, the revenge only makes it sweeter.”
Kuja blinked in surprise. Such bloodlust was normally not worn on one's sleeve, and yet he found it refreshing. How often had Kuja felt the same sentiments, and been unable to relish in it? Truly, he had not only worked for the cathartic rush of sadism at his goal's end -- but also for the "thrill of the challenge," as Genesis had deemed it. At times, life could be like the most dramatic of plays, and yet there were times still when life resembled more a game of chess. Often, Kuja's opponents proved so weak-minded that they remained unaware that a game had been played at all. Yet, did his heart not race with adrenaline every time the pieces fell so perfectly into place? Would he not plan for months and years on end so that every circumstance was accounted for, and every pawn played its part? Oh, how he longed to muse on the poetic implications of such thrills, but to do so now would be to play with fire. While Kuja had always been fond of taking risks, this one proved unwarranted.
He would not endanger his safety for the sake of some social satisfaction. And so, Kuja merely smiled as though there was nothing at all alarming (or in his case endearing) about the man's lust for battle and revenge.
“If there are gods or mortals that need to be felled, then I shall help you with your conquest. It goes to say that I shall inform you if I should uncover anything, as well.”
There was the assent that Kuja had sought. His smile widened to a much more genuine smirk. It wasn't much of a promise, but he hadn't really been seeking one. Now was not the time for power plays, after all. For the moment, Kuja needed only to learn the rules of this game, and then to gather his pieces. It seemed he had one, anyway, or might acquire it sometime in the future. Kuja only had to learn how best to play his role.
"Thank you, Genesis. I'm certain your aid shall prove most helpful." Kuja tilted his head back to once again admire the sky. It still amazed him how beautiful it could be. The sun warmed the down feathers in his hair, and he relished the heat. Did he really wish so desperately to return to that world of conflict and chaos? Perhaps if he slowed the churning of his mind, chilled the vengeance in his heart, and ended his quest for knowledge -- perhaps then he could stay here forever. The words soured in his mind, even as he thought them, for he knew he would never stop. Kuja had not been made for peace or for his own simple gratifications. No, his soul had always been geared towards a different goal.
Kuja had been created as a vessel of death. He would never be satisfied until the world bowed beneath him.
With the man's agreement made, Kuja had no further use of him. He sensed that Genesis longed for the conversation to end, or perhaps for something more to catch his interest. Kuja let out a soft and delicate sigh. Perhaps he would give this man a taste of his own fire after all. Just obvious enough to entice, if interested, and subtle enough to ignore if not.
"I look forward to exploring the gates of Hell with you. What is that saying, again? 'Stare into the abyss, and the abyss shall stare back into you?'" Kuja laughed, but only a little. He kept his hand delicately at his mouth, and sent the man a wayward glance. "I could think of few challenges more worthy than that. Or perhaps my soul is also 'corrupted by vengeance.'" Kuja gave a wistful sigh that bespoke of deeper longing. Then he turned to face the man before him. His eyes slid from high-heeled boots to tight-cut turtleneck to windswept hair.
"If that is all, then I suppose I shall let you return to your wandering. May the winds guide you well, noble poet, as you seek the ends of your journey." Kuja turned his head away and pressed his hand closer to his lips. "Unless you desire more of my company?" Kuja sent the man a glance which could have promised anything. "If so, I would be happy to give it."
I chime in with a "Haven't you people ever heard of closing a goddamn door?!" No, it's much better to face these kinds of things With a sense of poise and rationality
[attr="class","vcred"]Kuja - 600 I DON'T APOLOGIZE NO.
[attr="class","vpostb"]
[attr="class","vpostbg"] “Thank you Genesis, I’m sure your help will prove most helpful.”
If only the silverette knew just how much. If only Genesis himself knew, but that wouldn’t end very well. His head would grow and he’d go around doing even more of what he liked, which was making people miserable. But he didn’t know; some of it he just felt. Years of forgotten battles, drilled into his muscles and marked across his skin in pale, almost unnoticeable scars.
Genesis had been something, but he didn’t know, not before he came across Kuja. Now he wasn’t the ‘Wandering Red Monster’ but the ‘Wandering Poet’. Even if their meeting had drawn something incomprehensible from his mind, he didn’t think bad of it. He wouldn’t have minded at all if it had continued.
But all good things must come to an end, and he felt the tug of the wind on his legs. “I look forward to visiting the gates of hell with you. What is that saying again? Stare into the abyss, and the abyss shall stare back into you?” The other laughed delicately behind his hand, and Genesis smirked faintly as Kuja looked back his way.
‘He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And…’
The quote continued into what Kuja had said, and Genesis found himself setting that close by his side to think about when he was alone. Yes, this man had said quite a bit that he would spend time pondering over, or maybe he’d just forget it. After all, what reason did he have to worry about becoming a monster?
He wasn’t one, he wasn’t going to be one because…
Because why? He was a poet now, that’s why. One that might have a bit of a reputation in the north, but they had brought that on themselves.
“One of the many versions. It’s been said and reused time and time again. You could gaze into your soul for quite some time, but time is precious. I’d rather waste it wandering here than looking into what is there.”
There, his forgotten memories. His past home, where he had lived and breathed like he was doing here. Time was precious, and he didn’t want to search for something that could very well not be within his grasp anymore. Phantoms that weren’t here, couldn’t explain anything to him and be there—
Genesis ran a hand through his hair, pushing the long bangs in his face back, smaller pieces falling into his forehead as he held the rest back and kept them there. "If that is all, then I suppose I shall let you return to your wandering. May the winds guide you well, noble poet, as you seek the ends of your journey. Unless you desire more of my company? If so, I would be happy to give it."
What words did he wish to impart as he began to turn away, Genesis thought of them as his mind wandered and then slowly, slowed down to a halt in realization. He replayed the others words in his mind—and near the end the little voice inside his head had begun to laugh. What was that? A proposition? Kuja didn’t seem to be that kind of—well, Genesis didn’t know anything about, really, so he couldn’t say. So maybe he was. The redheads hand covered his mouth partially, holding it as if he was thinking seriously for a moment, while underneath the corners were uplifted with amusement.
“Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return,” The wound from earlier still stung, but as Genesis drew away from Kuja, he let an imaginary hand cover all of the openings in his armor, and hold it secure. “We’ll meet again, whether it be I seeking you, or the winds bringing us together.” A finger tapped against his lips, the smirk that was underneath his hand uncovered and morphed into something more mischievous.
“If you still wish to give me your company by that time, then we’ll trade words as long as you wish.” The hand dropped and both clasped behind his back as he turned and began to walk away, not before calling over his shoulder none too softly—
“They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
NOTE: You can end it if you want, or leave it here xD
