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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[attr=class,lyric1]infinite in mystery is the gift of
[attr=class,lyric2]the goddess
[attr=class,bulk] Maybe the knowledge that he had been dead for four years was a lot to drop on Angeal. Genesis saw it in the way his friend’s entire body tensed and the way his fingers clenched around the rag until water was spilling out between them. It wasn’t like Angeal to not pay attention like that. He was normally so careful about not making a mess--probably because he knew that he’d be the one to have to clean it up. Household chores weren’t really Genesis’ thing.
Angeal didn’t say anything for ages. In another time and place, Genesis would have told him to stop malfunctioning, but as it was, he just watched the dark-haired man with tight lips. At least out of the corner of his eye. In theory he was focused on Sephiroth.
Angeal finally let slip that he had been in this world for about a year now, but his face closed off entirely when he very nearly said what the last thing he remembered from Gaia was. Genesis thought that he could fill in the blanks anyway though. He hadn’t been present for Angeal’s death since he was off dealing with his own injuries that Zack had dealt him, but he’d heard the details later from Hollander. It had taken him a long time to believe the news and even longer to come to terms with it. If he ever had come to terms with it.
“A year ago is around when I showed up too,” he said instead so that thought wouldn’t be left hanging. He didn’t think it made any difference though. The man still wasn’t meeting his eyes, and Genesis bristled at the statement that he wouldn’t want to hear anything that Angeal had to say. Of course he didn’t want to hear! Genesis had been so wrapped up in his own degradation that he hadn’t even noticed how much pain his friend was in until he’d felt the need to kill himself. He didn’t need to hear about how he’d failed Angeal. He’d had four years to stew in it.
Angeal stood up to refill the bloody bowl of water that he’d been using to clean Sephiroth’s wounds, and a weak smirk danced around his lips as he lurked by the door. “Besides, I’m not looking to get a bottle thrown in my face right now.”
“Is that supposed to be a joke?” Genesis asked sullenly, but he wasn’t even sure if his friend had heard him or not as the dark-haired SOLDIER vanished into the kitchen. Genesis slumped back in his chair once Angeal was gone, rubbing at his eyes tiredly before scowling down at the silver-haired man on the bed. “This is all your fault. What made you think bringing him here was a good idea?” Sephiroth didn’t have much of an answer for him beyond his shallow breathing, and of course he didn’t because he was dying. Again. And once again, Genesis felt like he had kicked him towards the finish line.
Something dark and angry rose up in his stomach, and suppressing a scream, he stood up and hurled the rolling chair that he’d been sitting in against the wall. It left a sizable hole in the drywall before it fell to the floor with a crash, and Genesis could only laugh a tad hysterically at that before sliding down Sephiroth’s dresser and burying his hands in strands of his own hair. A Loveless quote rose to his lips and then it was gone. For once, he couldn’t find the right one. Not this time.
The longer Angeal stared at the bowl in his fingers, the sound of running water filling his ears, the less the words he needed to find seemed to come to him. It felt like any and every attempt to come up with something to say was met with resistance; quickly washed away and down the drain. His movements to clean the bowl were more robotic than well thought out, his heart and his mind fighting for what to do next. The room behind him contained his two closest friends, two of the souls he loved most in this world -- and yet, he couldn’t seem to do them the justice of apologizing. Opening up to them. Telling them how much they meant to him, and how relieved he was to see them again.
Hewley could blame the circumstances all he wanted, but the truth was; he wasn’t ready. He never would be.
A loud crash jerked Angeal from his thoughts as he scrambled not to drop the bowl in the sink from the surprise. The silence following the noise was filled with a sad, familiar, hysterical laugh -- coated in its own misery. Angeal didn’t have to be in the room to picture Genesis in that moment. He quickly filled the bowl and grabbed his freshly cleaned rag, boots marching back to Sephiroth’s room as if pulled there directly by his friend’s shared misery.
There were a lot of things in the world Angeal had been able to ignore over the years, but pain wasn’t one of them. A thousand images flew by in his mind in an instant, all the years, all the times he’d seen pain in Genesis’s eyes. Genesis felt emotion harder than any other human being Angeal had ever known. Something as beautiful as it was dangerous. From true elation and peace at seeing Loveless performed to perfection, to rage and sorrow at the truth of their existence in this world.
Angeal glanced at the damage as he re-entered the room, seeing the hole in the drywall caused by the chair Genesis had likely hurled at it. Fixable. The black-haired Soldier moved further into the room, carefully placing the bowl of warm water and the rag on the bedside table. He gave the unconscious Sephiroth a brief, apologetic glance; continuing to clean his wounds would have to wait a moment or two.
Instead, he took the few steps needed to close the distance between the bed and the dresser. Despite his body’s many protests, wounds angry as they stretched and seared, Angeal bent down and took a seat next to Genesis, the dresser barely moving as he put his weight against it.
Just like when they were kids. Genesis would be upset about something, but not always ready to talk about it. Opposite of Angeal, who tended to wear his heart on his sleeve and spill his feelings when prompted, if he wasn’t feeling like a burden. Usually, Angeal would be patient and wait -- nothing but a comforting presence for when Genesis felt like opening up, if he did at all. Sometimes they sat in silence and life continued on. Other times, they vented and talked.
Everything always turned out okay, back in those days.
Angeal was the one to break the silence, his voice unsteady and unsure -- so unlike him in nature, “I … didn’t think I’d finally find you under these circumstances.” So much blood and grime, their other dear friend barely holding onto his life, with no time to talk and process what was happening, that they were together again.
“There’s a lot I need to say … that I need to apologize for,” Angeal muttered, his head hanging as the words left his lips. He needed to look Genesis in the eye, but he couldn’t do it. Not yet.
Instead, Angeal gestured back to the limp form of Sephiroth on the bed, “After we’re sure he’s going to be okay."
A brief pause hung in the air as the guilt tugged his heart further and further down into the depths, "Unless there's something I can say right now."
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.
[attr=class,lyric1]infinite in mystery is the gift of
[attr=class,lyric2]the goddess
[attr=class,bulk] The clink of a bowl against the nightstand was the only thing that told Genesis that Angeal had returned to the room. His friend normally had heavy footsteps--it was sort of inevitable given his bulky frame--but Genesis was either too wrapped up in his own spiraling thoughts to notice or maybe Angeal was trying to go slowly. Like Genesis was a wild monster that he wasn’t entirely sure how to navigate yet. Really, that metaphor wasn’t too far from the truth if he thought about it.
Angeal was quiet for a while after placing the bowl down, and Genesis kept his eyes on the carpet. It was a dull brown color that had come with the apartment, but there were a few flecks of Sephiroth’s blood trailing in from the door now that brightened it up. He somehow didn’t think their landlord would appreciate that, but maybe it was a moot point now that the front door had been kicked in and Genesis had put a hole in the drywall with a chair.
Angeal finally spoke, and Genesis felt his lips twitch slightly in agreement when he said that he didn’t expect to meet under these circumstances. There was too much that there wasn’t time to say or react to because they were both too focused on their friend. Stupid Sephiroth. It was almost like he’d planned this. Genesis was absolutely planning to slap him once he was conscious and upright.
“Apologize for-?...” Genesis finally turned his eyes up towards Angeal, a scowl on his face as he processed what the man was saying. He had chosen to die because of what they were, and he was still trying to be a martyr? Angeal always did manage to be the better person, but he wasn’t having it right now.
“Unless there’s something I can say right now.”
Genesis was on his feet before he’d really thought about what he was going to do. “Do you have to be so-?” He gesticulated wildly in the air as if that conveyed everything. “And stop being all injured and pitiful or I can’t be mad at you! Cura!” He spared another healing spell directed at him and stalked a couple paces towards Sephiroth’s bedside as the spell took effect. Afterward, he whirled back towards him accusingly.
“You could take a swing at me! That’s where we left off, isn’t it?” He had chosen to side with Zack when things had gotten a bit too real for him, though Genesis had expected that he might leave eventually. He had done things that had made himself a little uneasy, let alone Angeal and all his honorable intentions.
“My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains. The arrow has left the bow of the goddess.” The lines at the beginning of Act IV from before the two friends were destined to fight. He expected Angeal would remember that much. “You know how many people I killed, so fight me like you wanted to then! Don’t pretend you’re the one who’s the villain!”
That wasn’t difficult to do with Genesis, but typically he was fairly decent at dodging them. The redhead flew up at him at a speed that shouldn’t he shouldn’t have been capable of, considering his size, and Angeal took a startled step back in order to dodge his friend’s suddenly wild, gesticulating hand gestures. He could barely open his mouth to protest before another cure spell was thrown at him; the warm, gentle feeling of wounds closing up and healing over a stark contrast to the fire the Soldier felt he was currently under.
Genesis stalked off in the opposite direction a few paces, and Hewley wasn’t sure if it was safe to go after him or not. He stood still, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the continuation of the blaze. His gaze fell to the floor, unable to watch the ravaging emotion that surely flew across his friend’s face. Angeal had always intensely felt shame, ever since he was a young child. It never got any easier, with age or even death.
Two friends, destined to fight.
Yet, Genesis knew how to press every single one of his buttons. It suddenly felt like they were back in Modeoheim, at the end of the road, with a chasm between them of all that had gone wrong, and all that was wrong with the world. Instead of building a bridge to rescue Genesis from the other side, however, Angeal had turned and walked away that day. He’d given up. Fled, and forced Zack to deal with Genesis and then himself.
The coward’s way out.
The shame combined with the still-existent anger -- not with Genesis, but with himself. Angeal looked forward, back to his furious and dearest friend, his own eyes blazing as he unintentionally raised his voice as he pointed at Genesis, “You don’t get to tell me how to feel! You weren’t the only villain in that story!”
The pain seared across his chest, like opening an old wound that never healed right. Hewley stepped forward, intent on making himself heard, “I forced Zack to fight you instead of doing it myself. And then I forced Zack to kill me so I wouldn’t have to live with everything that happened -- with the knowledge of what we were and what I'd let happen!”
Angeal’s pointed hand trembled as he curled his fingers into a fist, swinging it back down toward his side. Fury burned brightly and coursed through every part of his now-healed body, eager for release, “I left you to suffer alone, instead of staying to try and stop you, to try and help you like I should have.”
He turned away, cursing under his breath as he ran a frustrated hand through his dirty hair. Angeal knew this day would come, he knew this very moment would happen, but he was in no way prepared for it. The urge to run away was just as powerful as it had been back then; so much easier than facing what he was.
Angeal kept his back turned, but glanced over at Sephiroth, seeing Genesis out of the corner of his eye only, “I hardly deserve to be here for either of you considering what I did to you.”
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.
[attr=class,lyric1]infinite in mystery is the gift of
[attr=class,lyric2]the goddess
[attr=class,bulk] It wasn’t the first time by far that Genesis had yelled at Angeal, but he could count on one hand the amount of times that his friend had yelled back. It looked like he had cracked Angeal’s composure today though as the man stepped towards him angrily. Genesis was startled enough to just blink at him in astonishment as Angeal shouted out how he felt. He didn’t often descend to Genesis’ own level, but it looked like he wasn’t going to linger there long at any rate. He finished by turning his back on Genesis, his fists clenched and his back tense.
There was a beat of silence, but Genesis wasn’t going to let it stay. He’d never been any good at keeping quiet.
“Fine! Then we’re all villains here, aren’t we? When the war of the beasts brings about the world’s end, the goddess descends from the sky.” The Loveless quote was spat a lot less eloquently than he would have prefered, but he didn’t have the time to perform it how it deserved. He had a point to make, damn it.
“I don’t even know how to begin to unpack what happened. Of course I was furious! You think it didn’t hurt that you’d rather die than be like me? Especially when I was doing everything that I could to stay alive.” Genesis tried to keep his voice from cracking, but yelling about it brought back all the years that he’d spent just biding his time in the Banora underground while his body degraded. He’d had too much time to just think about Angeal’s final choice then.
“I spent four years blaming you for it until Zack bested me and my fight was over.” He hadn’t even admitted to Sephiroth yet that Zack had managed to cut him down, but maybe it helped that Angeal wasn’t infuriatingly infallible in battle like Sephiroth seemed to be sometimes. Before today at least. “He made me think about everything. About the three of us. What you did wasn’t right, but...you were in pain.” Genesis felt his voice get quieter, and he suddenly had a hard time even looking at Angeal from behind.
“...And I couldn’t see it. My whole life I’ve been...focused on myself.” That hadn’t changed. Not really. But if there was anyone to admit his sins to, then Angeal’s back seemed like a good place to start. “You aren’t the only one who lost your honor as a SOLDIER. We’re all monsters here.”
Hi sorry it's been a thousand years, have a tired Ang
Genesis’s fury burned as hot and wild as Angeal remembered it; whether fondly or guiltily. The red head was always filled with passion for everything that he did, and with it, that very same passion spilled out and spread like a fire spreading over an accelerant. Terrifying, powerful, fast, and fascinating to behold – from a distance. Instead, the flames licked at Angeal’s skin and righteously burned him. He was the rightful target for this anger. He expected it. He earned it. Every piece of vitriol, every rising note, every jab and insult.
So, when the fire began to suddenly, and quickly, wane, the Soldier found himself confused. Hewley furrowed his brows as Genesis continued to speak, about Zack, about the years in-between, about …
How Angeal must have felt.
Slowly, the Soldier turned back around to face his dear friend. The distance between them was so small, and yet, it felt like they were fields apart. Angeal’s shoulders fell slack, exhaustion taking the place of frustration, bitter sadness creeping into the corners of his heart. To hear Genesis admit that he’d been selfish, well, Angeal couldn’t rightfully admit he hadn’t wanted to hear that at one point or another in their lives. Genesis was inherently selfish, but it was as much a quirk as a character flaw. In a way, they’d always balanced one another out. Angeal, giving too much, and Genesis, giving too little. Genesis helped to stay his hand when Angeal was stretched thin, and Angeal helped encourage Genesis to lean into the small, simple gestures that could make someone else’s day at very little cost.
Now, here all three friends were; broken, beaten, with hearts as raw as open wounds. Were they all monsters, truly? That remained to be seen. But, they were certainly all a mess in more ways than one.
“Maybe we’ve all been monsters at one point or another,” Angeal spoke softly, as if raising his voice any higher would disturb the fragile tranquility that came after their tempers had simmered to a still pool, “But … we don’t have to be. Not unless we choose to be.”
I never thought you were truly a monster, were the words left unsaid across Angeal’s heart, unable to escape his lips, We were both scared and in pain. I know that.
He didn’t want to push his luck with Genesis. It was hard enough for his friend to admit any mistake, no matter how large or small, and they’d certainly put themselves through the ringer during Angeal’s admittedly so-far short visit. Wanting to shift the pressure off of Genesis, Angeal moved the few steps back to Sephiroth’s bedside, grabbing the wet rag and wringing it out to go back to tending to his friend’s dirtied skin.
“Everything you said just now … I know that wasn’t easy for you to admit,” Hewley muttered, rubbing the rag gingerly against a particularly soot-laden area around Sephiroth’s temple, “Thank you, Genesis.”
Through the pain, through the emotional exhaustion, under the grime and blood, brimmed that little bit of hope. His own ridiculous optimism. The next time Angeal spoke, he spoke from the heart, breathing life into that tiny, insignificant blink of hope.
“Second chances are rare, almost impossible to come by. I know I’d like to use mine to … make up for lost time, more than anything else. If you think you can stand me after all this.”
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.
[attr=class,lyric1]infinite in mystery is the gift of
[attr=class,lyric2]the goddess
[attr=class,bulk] Genesis wasn’t sure how Angeal would take his admission of guilt. It hadn’t been a strict apology—he hadn’t said the words at any rate, but it was as close to one as Genesis was likely to come. And from the way his shoulders slumped forward, Angeal understood that more than most people would have. His friend had always read him too well. Genesis had used to think he could read Angeal reasonably well too, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.
Loveless was far easier to interpret than either of his friends, as it turned out.
Angeal broached that maybe the three of them had only been monsters because they’d chosen to be, and Genesis grimaced a bit in response. A part of him still wanted to protest that Shinra had made them monsters, but it was hard to argue the logic of what he said anymore. He could have gone against Shinra without making so many copies or alienating the other two. Genesis knew that on some level, even if he didn’t like it. So instead of protesting, he shared one of his favorite lines from Loveless as he crossed his arms in front of him.
”My soul, corrupted by vengeance Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey In my own salvation And your eternal slumber.”
Angeal grabbed the rag so he could continue cleaning some of the dried blood off of Sephiroth, and that felt less threatening somehow even though he was still yelling at Angeal’s back. But it was his friend thanking him that left Genesis at a real loss for words. A part of him wanted to do something incredibly irrational like flip a desk over. Something that would put them back in their usual dynamic but instead he opened his mouth. “You’re welcome.” It wasn’t a sentence he normally said, so he wrinkled his nose afterward as he grabbed for his Restore materia again. “Now stop that. I hate being mature.”
His childhood friend had one more thing to share though—and Genesis couldn’t do anything but stare at him as he spoke of second chances and how he’d like to use his. That simple sentiment cut deeper than Genesis cared to admit, and he turned his face away slightly to hide his pesky mako eyes that were suddenly all watery. He must have developed allergies while on Zephon.
“Don’t be stupid,” he said brusquely, laying the materia back on Sephiroth’s chest so he could continue working on their injured friend. Sephiroth seemed to have turned a corner during their shouting match, because his coloring was much better than it had been. Trust Sephiroth to come back from the dead just to stop them from fighting.
Glancing at Angeal out of the corner of his eye, Genesis’ lips quirked upwards into something like a smile. “You’ve always been hard to stand. It’s not like that’s new. But somehow we’ve made it work.”
Genesis replying back to his kind word of thanks without an immediate attack or sass was beyond rare. Words so precious, they were worth their weight in gold. But, words from the heart were fleeting, and within seconds, his dear friend had adapted back to their typical dynamic.
Angeal couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips as Genesis chided him for forcing him to be mature. He didn’t dare look at Genesis though – that would be pushing his luck. If there was one thing his childhood friend detested more than being forced out of his own element, it was dealing with his own emotions. Genesis, who hid what he felt behind a mask. Sephiroth, who didn’t know how to express the differing emotions he felt. And Angeal, who wore what he felt on his sleeve. What a strange trio they’d made over the years together.
It would take work from all three of them to not let the bonds of their friendship fracture again. Angeal could only hope that Genesis and Sephiroth were as willing to give that a try as he was, despite the searing pain it caused them to confront what happened in the past.
Genesis drew Angeal from his heavy thoughts, saying in his own dramatic, chiding way that yes, he could continue to stand Hewley after their traded, angry words. Angeal dared a glance out of the corner of his eye, catching his friend’s near-smile over the flow of magic that radiated through Sephiroth’s body. A lifetime of memories between them flashed through Angeal’s mind in an instant, and he couldn’t help the small, quiet chuckle that escaped him.
“Yeah. We’ve made it work for a long time.”
Emotionally spent, Angeal kept quiet as he continued to clean the dirt from Sephiroth’s skin. Perhaps it was the mental exhaustion, but he could almost swear Sephiroth felt a bit warmer under his fingers, his color a little darker than he had been before. It was likely just from Genesis’s magic, he reasoned, but the desperate part of Angeal hoped that, perhaps, their conversation had soothed their seriously injured friend. All three of them had long roads of recovery ahead of them, each for differing reasons. But, perhaps this time, they’d travel those roads together.
Angeal could only hope. But, he was feeling more optimistic now than he had in quite some time.
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.
