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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Even as her body could do nothing to slow or stop the constricting embrace imposed upon her by this botanical threat, the High Summoner still refused to give the face-stealing fiend what it truly desired most out of this exchange of blood and tears: satisfaction. Yuna can barely wheeze out her final retort, yet she does so with pointed defiance nonetheless. The creature would have to kill her before she would ever allow its machinations to succeed.[break][break]
The corners of its grinning mouth fracture and loosen, and though it so desperately yearned to just snap the little human’s neck and limbs like twigs on a tree, something dark and sinister wormed its way to the surface of its mind, causing the plant-thing to tilt its head, ominously, in Kimahri’s direction.[break][break]
“Is that so?” the creature asked with jagged, smiling teeth. One by one, new clusters of thorny red vines sprout from below the unconscious Ronso, wrapping their way around his body as if they might stand him back up on both feet, only to then lift him off the forest floor and begin stretching out from where they emerged, bringing the guardian closer to the creature’s proximity to better display his slumped and motionless form. With a separate cluster of smaller, thinner tendrils, it took the Spirit Lance in tow. “It is a dependent weakling,” it murmurs, in transparent reference to Kimahri, “a creature that cannot live for itself, sworn to servitude until its bones return to oblivion. The last of its kind, fated to die and be forgotten by history and the world. But… if you so deeply insist...” Intent to torment Yuna still, even as it choked the life out of her, the fiend issues a domineering smile to the Ronso, then returns its attention toward its true victim, barely loosening its grip over the girl’s throat, just enough to ensure that the suffering could continue without pause. “Let us put your faith to the test, then...”[break][break]
With a dramatic wave of its hand, a pungent pink mist found itself drifting over Kimahri’s head and body. The second his fingers began to twitch and curl open, the tendrils wrapped around his weapon moved up and pressed it against his palm until they closed down and around it on reflex. There would be no more vines of bondage, no more shackles to force out the desired responses; if this girl thoroughly believed her pet to be its own creature, then it stood to reason that it, too, could make its own choices.[break][break]
And it was going to be given the most important one of them all.[break][break]
Slowly, Kimahri’s eyelids began to flicker wildly, struggling to open themselves. Incoherent thoughts swam uselessly around his mind while a veil of fatigue weighed down against every muscle in his body, ruining his sense of directional orientation until his feet made contact with the ground. Based on how uncharacteristically torpid and relaxed his expression now appeared, it was as though the Ronso had been profusely drugged by the she-witch, as the real Yuna was now about to discover for herself.[break][break]
As the last of the tendrils surrounding him released their hold, Kimahri’s head hangs, evidence of his inability to resist the narcotic effects of the haze surrounding him. Soon after, the exhaustion over his eyes lifted, and upon opening them, their glassy look had entirely vanished, as well. Trying to breathe causes his lungs and body to fill with pain, and attempting to retrace his steps proved to be its own challenge. What in the world happened to him?[break][break]
Detecting the pink mist surrounding his body, Kimahri strained his neck muscles to gaze upward, only to freeze in transparent shock. His reaction nearly causes him, a warrior always prepared for the unexpected, to drop the Spirit Lance, but it merely hangs until the blade scrapes against the forest floor.[break][break]
Standing before him was Yuna. Two of them.[break][break]
The mist obscures the truth, altering his perception of things so that he could neither observe the floral menace in its real form, nor the wounded High Summoner, or her aeon Shiva, being ruthlessly asphyxiated close by. For all intents and purposes, the creature had snared the Ronso in a devious pheromone-induced illusion, one that seemed all but impossible to escape from.[break][break]
“Kimahri!” called out the impostor, perfectly emulating Yuna’s own inflections with an extra layer of desperation. “I know you’re in there somewhere! That Yuna isn’t really me!” It points worriedly toward the clone, her captive, certain the illusion would corrupt Kimahri’s ability to sense reality around. Exactly as predicted, the Ronso glances over to her, not out of anger, but genuine confusion.[break][break]
No. This was fear. He could not tell between the two Yunas which one was the genuine article, and the thought of choosing wrong left him truly paralyzed with a terror most stunningly uncharacteristic for a Ronso warrior. He trades glances back and forth between the both of them, clenching down on the Spirit Lance even tighter.[break][break]
“Help me destroy her, please! She’s too dangerous for either of us!” It is all part of the monster’s ultimate design. Make them lose hope. Crush everything that binds them together. Reduce them to husks of their former selves. Turn them into servants of the Headstone Forest.[break][break]
It all begins, and ends, with Kimahri.[break][break]
And he was on the verge of losing hope.[break][break]
[attr=class,bulk] Yuna was starting to see dark spots from the lack of oxygen, but she still mustered up enough energy to glare at the fiend as it dragged Kimahri’s prone body closer. She wanted to tell her doppelganger to leave him alone or to refute what it was saying about him, but she didn’t have the air for that anymore. She couldn’t really do anything anymore. Just when her vision began to turn black, the tendril around her neck loosened just slightly.
Yuna sucked in a gasp of air before she dissolved into a coughing fit. The creature hadn’t released her entirely—she still wasn’t able to move and the vine around her throat was a constricting force—but she wouldn’t suffocate now. She could breathe with some difficulty, and she feared why the fiend would decide to spare her now.
“Let us put your faith to the test, then.”
A pink haze washed over the scene in front of them, obscuring the guardian from her view for a moment. As the fog began to thin out into the surrounding air, Yuna could finally see Kimahri again as a dark-blue shadow, and she gasped as the tendrils appeared to set him on his feet and then release him entirely. Her friend’s head hung low around his shoulders, and he looked confused and a little unsteady on his feet, but his expressions were his. Had the creature willingly released Kimahri from its control?
Yuna couldn’t fathom the reason why it would do something like that until her doppelganger suddenly cried out for him. Using her voice. Yuna whipped her head around to stare at the creature in shock as the meaning behind its words sank in. It was pretending to be the real Yuna so that Kimahri would kill her. Nevermind that its cracked, plant-like face was exposed and that the real Yuna was restrained and still heavily bleeding from her abdomen. Kimahri himself looked horrified and perplexed, so he must legitimately not be able to tell the difference. Whether it was something in the pink haze or not that was confusing him, Yuna couldn’t say, but she needed to reach out to him too before this ended tragically. Kimahri would never forgive himself if this ended that way.
“Kimahri!-” Yuna tried in a raw voice, but the pain in her throat made her wince and have to start over. The moment’s pause made her reconsider what to say to him. Help! She wanted nothing more than to plead for aid and reach out to him like she always had since she was seven. That was the direction that the fiend had gone for, so it must have seen that in Kimahri’s head. He had always protected her, looked out for her, and been like a silent older brother figure even when she’d taken the path of a summoner. But Yuna wasn’t a little girl anymore, and she refused to lose another friend.
“Kimahri, run! Yuna didn’t know what her voice sounded like to him when he was under the influence of magic and she was so hoarse anyway, but she had to try. “Don’t put this on yourself! I can do this!”
A white lie. She was finished if she didn’t get healed soon, and her ethers were still out of reach when she was so restrained, but it was better this way. Yuna would die before she let Kimahri kill her.
“Kimahri, run! Don’t put this on yourself! I can do this!”[break][break]
A quivering breath leaves the Ronso’s mouth. Between the horrendous pain that surged through every fiber of his muscular frame and the noxious sweet aroma coming from the pink mist that drifted all around, Kimahri could feel his willpower being suffocated by the growing weight of uncertainty, just as the real Yuna sat on the precipice of asphyxiation herself. One pleads for aid in destroying the impostor, yet another desperately tells him to flee and spare himself the possible tragedy of killing the wrong one. [break][break]
Both orders contradict his sensibilities as a guardian and a Ronso: Kimahri could not abandon his summoner to the fickle whims of chance, but neither could he muster the strength of heart to gamble with her life so blindly.[break][break]
Between the choice to run or fight, Kimahri had been pushed into a box; unable to choose at all.[break][break]
Everything was proceeding as planned. “Kimahri! She’s trying to separate us!” the fake Yuna cried out in perfect imitation of its victim, relishing in the totality of its illusion, savoring the pure control it gave this heartless monster over Kimahri and Yuna. “Please, don’t leave me alone! I need you!”[break][break]
Kimahri’s breathing turns heavy and frantic, and his xanthous yellow gaze begins to waver between the two women. He tries to lift the Spirit Lance, but his arm and body refuses to obey. The false Yuna’s words provoke old, faded memories of the Ronso’s past, tormenting his every waking moment with reminders of the High Summoner’s gentle spirit. She had always shown a kind of vulnerability to the bitterness of the world around her, and through no fault of her own. Even as a child, she could not stand the thought of being made to endure the hardships of life by herself. Even now, Yuna needed tremendous help, whether the real one wanted to admit it or not. [break][break]
But so did Kimahri.[break][break]
Frightened looks dart in every direction the guardian can think of. His right foot moved back a step, yet the rest of his form stayed firmly planted on the spot. None of his senses worked with him to perceive which among the two Yunas were real, and the injuries that stretched all over his body—inflicted upon him outside the scope of conscious awareness—continued to sap away at what little strength he had left over. Time was running out, and so were his options.[break][break]
What was he supposed to do, when all the odds were stacked against him? In this forest of abject nightmare, what separates illusion from reality? How was Kimahri to protect the person closest to his heart, when that same person also compelled him to turn away from his duty as her protector? Was he doomed to suffer the greatest failure of his entire life, without any course for a turnabout? Were either of these Yunas genuine, or was he merely hallucinating?[break][break]
After what felt like an eternity, Kimahri’s form loosened, and he turned his gaze to the ground with a pensive solemnity, fully consumed by the grip of his own indecisiveness. There was no choice to be made. Not between two figures who looked, and sounded, identical in every way. Yuna’s will was stronger than tempered steel, of this, the guardian was certain; but she was still that same little girl he had sworn a blood-oath to protect until the day his body expired.[break][break]
In that moment, an idea manifests. He couldn’t roll the dice here, not when his decision rested on the possibility that one of them was actually Yuna in the flesh. Kimahri had to presume that both of them were a product of this hollow and evil grove, and that they were to be treated with equal suspicion. He had to force both of their hands at once.[break][break]
Unprompted, Kimahri lifted his spear up, and aimed its many-pronged blade for his own throat.[break][break]
The false Yuna’s eyes widen out of purest rage, unwilling to permit its greatest prize the opportunity of denying it ultimate satisfaction. “Filthy weakling!!” A massive cluster of thorny crimson vines burst forth outside of Kimahri’s peripheral view, battering Kimahri from every possible angle to prevent him from running the Spirit Lance through his jugular. The Ronso yelps and howls with every blow that connects, causing him to drop the weapon out of reflex until the fiend, thoroughly enraged by his incompetence, telepathically sent its organic appendages to slam into his chest and send him rocketing backwards until his body collided against the trunk of an enormous tree, just before they began to snake and slither over him in a mad effort to choke out what little life remained in him.[break][break]
The great floral bulb that housed this duplicitous imitator slowly rumbled and crawled along the forest floor to close the distance between itself and Kimahri. “You are a failure to your kind, and to your pathetic human master. Become extinct, as only you deserve.” To put emphasis on the Ronso’s weakness, the monster tightened its hold over Yuna’s neck once more, while also putting extra force behind its restriction of the summoner’s aeon Shiva, aiming to destroy the conjured entity before the girl could redouble her efforts. [break][break]
Unable to so much as even struggle against this creature, Kimahri winces, trying his best to maintain consciousness. In his desperation, he glances over the advancing monster’s form, noting that the pink mist had all but vanished—revealing none other than Yuna herself, who was visibly bleeding out and held hostage by some evil thing wearing a corrupt and damaged version of her face. Nearby was Shiva, in a form Kimahri could not recognize, being strangled in much the same way that they both were. What had he done?[break][break]
With a measure of sadistic delight that bordered on the realm of insanity, the floral monster edged its way ever closer to Kimahri, yet the warrior refused to fight back. Before the vines worked their way up to his throat, Kimahri took in a breath of air, and as soon as the botanical menace closed the gap between itself and him, he used the final remnants of his physical strength to force his arms out and around the monster’s body, until they themselves began squeezing down against it to the creature’s utter shock. Both of his hands lock into one another to prevent the beast from fleeing, agitating it even further as tendrils and petals shudder and spasm with violent resistance, thrashing about as if it had gone completely berserk.[break][break]
It shrieks viciously at Kimahri, but he refuses to surrender. From over the monster’s shoulder, he gazes apologetically back at Yuna, undeniable proof for the summoner that his mind was once again his own. He did not know how this all came to happen, but the truth was now clear as day, and it now fell upon his shoulders to rectify the terrible damage that had been inflicted, both to himself and to the one he loved as a little sister. So long as he could fight, this horror would not be allowed to walk away.[break][break]
Little by little, streaks of effervescent orange light began to pour into the Ronso’s body until his blood-stained fur appeared to glow with ominous portent. Never once does he break eye contact with his summoner, his friend, the one person who mattered to Kimahri more than his own life ever did. He wanted her to realize that, even now, he would protect her, no matter what the cost.[break][break]
If it meant keeping his summoner safe, he would gladly pay the heaviest price of them all.[break][break]
A single tear shuffles down his face, implicitly telling Yuna that he was sorry. [break][break]
For everything.[break][break]
The radiance pooling into his figure suddenly flashes bright white.[break][break]
SHHH-BOOM. A mighty explosion rocks the entire forest to its very foundations, sending a catastrophic quantity of dust and debris scattering in every direction possible. A truly hideous cry of agony more animal than human rings out from the monster that dared to impersonate Yuna as its entire form bursts into searing flames, causing its tendrils to suddenly release the real Yuna and her summoned aeon from their respective holds as they flailed and thrashed with futile abandon, bashing into trees and carving out chunks of the earth in a hollow effort to put out the all-consuming fires of its own inevitable, unavoidable destruction.[break][break]
Too little, too late: the results of Kimahri’s sacrifice had proven too much for the monster to endure, and as its body withered and burned under the scorching heat, it began to dissolve into clouds of charred petals. It tries to reach for Yuna, but desperation alone cannot keep it rooted in the world, and its face eventually vanishes with one final expression of horror. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.[break][break]
The smoke eventually settles, and Kimahri is nowhere to be found among the charred and ruined remains of their battle.[break][break]
All that remains behind is the Spirit Lance, and a pall of deathly silence.
[attr=class,bulk] Yuna could see the pain and indecision racing across Kimahri’s face, and she wanted to do anything to take that expression away. She felt that this was her fault. If only she’d been smarter or stronger, then maybe she could have saved Kimahri from the creature’s influence before it had come to this. The fiend was still yelling at Kimahri in her own voice, begging for him to help her and not separate them, but the real Yuna just let her head bow forward in defeat, her eyes slipping closed as she waited for his decision.
What she didn’t expect was for Kimahri to turn his Spirit Lance toward his own throat.
Horror welled up in Yuna, and she suddenly fought back against the plant’s restraints with everything she had, one hand desperately outstretched towards him. “No! Kimahri, please! I’m the fake. You can help her, just don’t-!” The summoner had spoken in a panic, believing that being killed by her friend was still better than him harming himself to avoid the choice. But as the fiend next to her revealed its true form by screeching at him in rage and launching its vines at him in attack, she realized what Kimahri had been trying to do.
He wasn’t trying to harm himself. He was trying to force both of them to show their hands, and he had won.
Unfortunately the fiend proved itself to be too much for Kimahri just like it was for Yuna. The plant’s appendages struck the Ronso from every direction, knocking the spear out of his hand and viciously throwing him back towards a tree. It was the second time that he had struck a tree-trunk with brutal force against this creature, but Yuna still winced as he hit the ground. She didn’t have much time to react though before the tendril around her neck suddenly cut off her breath again.
Choking, Yuna could only watch with eyes that were involuntarily leaking from the pressure on her throat as Kimahri finally seemed to realize she was there. She could see the horror written across his feline face before his expression settled into something determined and steely. The next second, his arms locked themselves around the creature’s body in a death-hold. Judging from the way the plant screeched and struggled, Kimahri’s grip must have been like a vice. Yuna had no idea what he intended to do next until he looked directly into her eyes with an apologetic expression, the edges of his body starting to glow a hot orange.
Yuna knew exactly where she had seen that before. The Grenades on Mt. Gagazet.
Despite the pressure on her throat and the way that black dots were starting to swim across her vision again, Yuna threw herself forward, shaking her head emphatically since she couldn’t get any words out. Still, the Ronso started to glow brighter and brighter, and in desperation, Yuna mouthed what she didn’t have the air to say. I love you.
The parallels to Tidus weren’t lost on her. First the boy she’d loved and now her oldest friend and guardian. She hadn’t been able to keep either of them from their sacrifice even though they had both saved her from hers. And like with Tidus, Yuna had no choice but to watch as Kimahri vanished in a white-hot explosion.
The force knocked her flat on her back and left a ringing in her ears that was so disorienting that it took her a moment of gasping for air to realize that the plant had released her. The fiend seemed to be in its death spirals as it smashed into trees before going still, and Yuna wasted no time in grabbing for the bag that she’d been trying to reach this entire time. With shaking hands, she fumbled inside for a moment before pulling out a tiny glass bottle that contained an ether. Downing the green liquid, she felt the warm glow of magic spread throughout her body, and she quickly pressed both hands to the stomach wound that Kimahri had given her. “Curaga.”
The pain lessened considerably as the flesh started to knit itself back together, but Yuna still felt weak from the blood-loss as she crawled forward to examine the carnage in the clearing. “Kimahri? Kimahri!” There was no answer. The plant lay still now, and between the smoldering trees and all the blood that had been shed, the forest floor was a mess.
As Yuna drug herself forward towards the spot where Kimahri had been, her hand bumped something laying among the grass. Glancing down, her heart froze in place as she slowly gathered up the Spirit Lance in her hands. It had taken a lot of effort to acquire this spear before their final encounter with Sin. She could remember hours scouring for chests in the Thunder Plains and hunting for butterflies in the Macalania Woods, but it had all been worth it to see the pleased look in Kimahri’s eyes when he’d held the finished product in his hands.
Now though, Yuna could only clutch the weapon to her chest and cry.
As the summoner cries for the loss of her most cherished friend, so too does the world around her, a witness to his valiant and heart-wrenching sacrifice. From above the ruined landscape of their life-or-death struggle, far above the rotted canopies of the Headstone Forest, descended a great blanket of rain that would work to eliminate whatever open flames or smoldering embers left behind in the wake of Kimahri’s seemingly final attack. The droplets that fell could cleanse the earth of its wounds, wash away the dirt and grime, remove any traces of blood and pain, but they would never be strong, or forceful, enough to heal Yuna of her immeasurable sorrow.[break][break]
It is a solemn truth; not even Kimahri would get to enjoy such miraculous benefits.[break][break]
Inch by inch, the Ronso’s feet slowly moved him further away from the scene in a haggard, stumbling gait, eyes half-lidded, the whole of his body riddled with puncture wounds and horrifying lacerations that sent bolts of pain crackling through every point. The explosive force behind his attack had flung him away from the area, and by the time the dust had settled in both figurative and actual senses, muscle memory had overtaken his senses and did what Kimahri himself could not consciously do: stand up and move.[break][break]
An observer might have mistakenly assumed he was set upon by a pack of wild monsters, or that he had tangled with a warrior considerably more powerful than himself. It was not the case here. A creature of unmistakable cunning had done this, and Kimahri had pitifully fallen victim to its organic trickery. He only had himself to blame for being reduced to this sorry state.[break][break]
Step by shuffling step, the half-conscious Kimahri wandered without aim or intent, until he arrived at a breach in the Headstone Forest’s oppressive, claustrophobic confines south of where he had initially entered its depths. The skies had turned grey with the presence of storm clouds, and with every flash of lightning that illuminated the planet from above came a soft peal of thunder. His form passes the threshold, yet still it staggers onward, unable to do anything else except move.[break][break]
He ought to have died. He should have died. Kimahri had fully intended to exterminate the fiend before it could inflict further abuses upon Yuna, and from the sounds of its shrieking throes, it would seem that his technique—Self-Destruct—had managed to do just that.[break][break]
But it was too late. The damage had been done: he had served as an accessory to the vile monster’s machinations, and played a direct hand in causing Yuna undue suffering. One might argue that his actions were not his own, but a guardian cannot make these excuses for themselves. Though he had rescued the High Summoner from certain damnation, in the end, Kimahri had failed to uphold his duties. He had broken his blood-oath to her; to Sir Auron; to Lord Braska; to Rikku; to Wakka and Lulu; to Tidus...[break][break]
He had failed them all, and himself.[break][break]
The harsh, mocking words of his two fiercest rivals, Biran and Yenke, battered away at Kimahri’s heart while the rainfall did so against his body. He could feel the silent judgement of his ancestors, his tribe-kin, assessing his worthiness as a Ronso warrior. The taunting remarks of Maester Seymour follow soon after, urging him to join the ones he so ruthlessly slaughtered. After what he had done, Kimahri could no longer stand to face Yuna, as either equal or protector, and in choosing this path for himself, he had abandoned his responsibilities as a guardian, despite the knowledge that he directly ensured his summoner would survive into tomorrow. His people would never forgive him for this; he should have died protecting her.[break][break]
Now, look at him: broken in body and spirit, stripped of all that ever had meaning or purpose in his life. A life undone, by his own two hands. Deserving of death, yet denied oblivion’s embrace.[break][break]
Depleted of the last vestiges of what little strength he had, Kimahri dropped to his knees, both arms hanging limp at his sides, and his expression turned soft and vacant. Soon after, the rest of his body follows suit, with one side of the Ronso’s face hitting the wet grass and mud with an unceremonious splat, and after that slipped away his fading slivers of consciousness.[break][break]
