Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
at adventu, we believe that colorful story and plots far outweigh the need for a battle system. rp should be about the writing, the fun, and the creativity. you will see that the only system on our site is the encouragement to create amazing adventures with other members. welcome to adventu... how will you arrive?
year 5, quarter 3
Welcome one and all to our beautiful new skin! This marks the visual era of Adventu 4.0, our 4th and by far best design we've had. 3.0 suited our needs for a very long time, but as things are evolving around the site (and all for the better thanks to all of you), it was time for a new, sleek change. The Resource Site celebrity Pharaoh Leep was the amazing mastermind behind this with minor collaborations from your resident moogle. It's one-of-a-kind and suited specifically for Adventu. Click the image for a super easy new skin guide for a visual tour!
Final Fantasy Adventu is a roleplaying forum inspired by the Final Fantasy series. Images on the site are edited by KUPO of FF:A with all source material belonging to their respective artists (i.e. Square Enix, Pixiv Fantasia, etc). The board lyrics are from the Final Fantasy song "Otherworld" composed by Nobuo Uematsu and arranged by The Black Mages II.
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Post by Edward Chris von Muir on Oct 14, 2021 14:36:48 GMT -6
so i followed the ghost of a king
Safe and tucked inside the tavern, far from the storm brewing outside Torensten’s port district, music flourished. Perched upon a stool, the musician sat, fair hair drawn into a half-do braid, tied with a red ribbon which matched his tunic. Behind him, a large hearth lit the room, pulsing to some unsung command, highlighting the hall in a golden hue. The harp glimmered as bright as the sound that resonated from it, offering respite from what lay beyond the room.
Another late show. Beneath long lashes, Edward counted the audience’s numbers as his fingers danced across the strings. Another uptick in numbers, judging by how many squeezed themselves into the common room. His voice intensified. He had not planned to remain within Torensten long enough to gather a reputation, albeit an arguably small one. Several patrons raised their cups, offering more encouragement by singing off tune. Edward smiled, soft and gentle. As was his nature, he was undeniably becoming loyalty attached to this small section of the city.
It would seem as if he only changed in the physical sense. At least that was a comfort in this elsewise unpredictable world.
The last note faded before the first claps hit the air. Legs sore, Edward got to his feet and bowed as the intoxicated clamoring rose in volume. Over the enthusiasm, he excused himself, voice scratchier than he would care to admit, and took his leave from the raised platform that served as a stage. Like every night prior, his exit was intercepted by folks offering praise. Offerings of patronship. Offerings of some farmland’s son to take music lessons. The smile did not reach his eyes when he said he would consider his choices, shook a few hands, and slipped from the crowd.
Ceri, the barkeep, greeted him with her signature crooked grin as he approached. She slid a concoction that soothed the throat his way. “Can’t have my golden goose going mute,” she said with a wink.
He did not voice his dislike of her referencing him as such. “Thank you.” He forced back a grimace. The wind howled and clawed like a savage beast at the door. Edward shuddered at the thought of what the night would bring.
Tseng had been in Zephon for a bit now, and he was making some progress gathering information. Since he was currently staying in Cissnei's work building, that made it a lot easier to keep information stored somewhere so he didn't have to carry it on him all the time. Plus, being able to talk to her often was great for gathering information. After taking a shower, he decided to change it up a little. It was cold out, so he had to take that into consideration as well.
He had decided on some black jeans with a red t-shirt and a leather jacket to go over it. Not much different from his all black suit from before, but to him it was different and that was all that mattered. Heading into a tavern in Torensten, he took a seat at the bar. There was a musician on stage, so he ordered himself a whiskey on the rocks and listened in.
Tseng wasn't too much of a music fan, but he could appreciate a good tune. The man on stage did well, and Tseng found himself enjoying the sound. It seemed as though he wasn't the only one, as mulitiple people approached the musician when he got off stage. The man was then at the bar, getting a drink from the bartender that would help his throat. "Good evening. That was a great performance you put on. How long have you been doing this?"
Post by Edward Chris von Muir on Jan 19, 2022 15:19:58 GMT -6
so i followed the ghost of a king
“Good evening,” Edward said, his words punctuated by the wafting steam. He did not immediately look over his shoulder, a habit that would have received a scolding from his chancellor. He smiled to himself. This tavern was not Damcyan; the stool was not his throne. Formalities were next to nonexistent. “Thank you.”
He anticipated the stranger to make his way back like the others, to meld in the crowd and become another nameless face. Much to his surprise, he stayed. Even more bewildering was the fact he had not yet solicited lessons for his child. Finally turning, Edward could guess why.
Dressed for business, Ceri had explained one night as she threw more kindling into the hearth. They’re come with propositions from patrons. Kinda like middlemen.
While this man was dressed the part, Edward sensed his intentions lay elsewhere. With that thought, a sense of calm washed over the former king. Shoulders relaxing, Edward gestured toward the stool next to him in a silent invitation. A small smile lit his features. “Years.” Short and simple, the best retort. He had started young with the harp, which was a birthday gift from his mother years ago, after he had plagued the court bard.
“Performances at taverns,” he began, “I confess began more sporadically. Fire in the blood and the naivety of youth, wanting grand adventures like the minstrels of old.” His father had encouraged outings, albeit with guards flanking him, blocking out citizens and flowers alike. Who could have foreseen the crown prince, known for his scholarly pursuits, sneaking through hidden pathways in the night to escape responsibilities? “To have a taste of freedom.”
How naïve was he all those years ago…
Guilt was a noose, threatening to strangle the moment. Anna’s last lesson hung over him, and he’d swore to live in the present. He took a slow drink, savoring the soothing sensation. “Gilbert,” he offered his alias, testing the waters. A handful knew his real name. If there was a possibility of employment, this man would know it.
If not, perhaps it would be a nice change of pace to have a civil conversation.
Normally Tseng would be keeping an eye out for anyone suspicous, or anything odd going on, but he didn't have to here. Not saying he wasn't at all, but it just wasn't as important as it was before. He wasn't looking for his target, or making sure his boss was safe. This was Midgar, Rufus wasn't here that he knew of, and he could be himself. Then again, he wasn't even sure who that was anymore. All he knew was how to be a Turk, and his old ways weren't dying off anytime soon. He was still trying to figure out his next move here, but right now, that next move was the glass of whiskey in front of him.
The man said he had been had been doing this for years and Tseng gave a nod. It was much like himself, dedicated to what he loved doing. The way he spoke was different than what Tseng was used to, but he didn't mind one bit. People in this world were brought here from different places, so it was quite intriguing to hear. Listening to the man speak, Tseng took a small drink from his whiskey.
"Sounds like you're doing what you learned to love to do, though personally I don't think grand adventures occur in taverns." Tseng wasn't a person to not say what he was thinking, but he did hope he wasn't coming off too strong. "Have you performed in other places than taverns?" The idea of adventure for a Turk was vastly different than most, but being cooped in a building to perform all the time still didn't seem like much of an adventure for him.
Maybe the man had performed elsewhere in his world? Did he travel to various cities and areas to perform in these taverns? Perhaps Tseng should have gathered more details before assuming anything, but it was too late now. Conversation wasn't something Tseng knew very well, due to the fact that it didn't happen very often. Turks were more hands on, and they really didn't interact with one another outside of missions, or at least he didn't. This was new to him.
