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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As he walked through the markets, some more reputable than others, the chill of the freshly arrived winter didn't even seem to phase him. For once, Alexander Sorel was in a good mood. Looking at the copy of the contract papers on his Tomestone, he scrolled down to take another good look at his signature, and reminded himself that it had been paid in full. Paid. In. Full. He'd gotten an amazing windfall and it took only now to truly realize it, thinking back to the reason why; a certain name in a book making his life so much easier. Exceptionalism and professionalism apparently went a long way. That, and well. Anyway, the Dragonblades could also suck a fat one. He was getting ready to be involved in a heist-like prison break, he hadn't gotten to do something like that before, so that was going to be a brand new adventure. For the first time in a very long time, things were looking up for Alex, and it reflected in his mood. Gone was the usual moodiness and irritability, and he seemed to be smiling. Smiling!
He even seemed to be humming a strange tune as he stopped and fished through his jacket. Looking at a few papers, jobs that he'd managed to pick up, he had more and more work to do. He'd gotten another chance, was the way he saw it, and he really needed to capitalize on it before it could vanish through his fingers. And well, there was an opportunity. As he was passing by, he noticed in a shed of steel, of all things, a motorcycle. All the way here in Provo, in the markets. Oh, sure, there were refueling stations, but no one brought something like that this far in without purpose. The myriad parts stowed away and tools hanging on walls made it obvious that it was having issues. And the owner... well the owner stood out. Especially his hair, spiky and blonde. Alex looked at him for a moment before static seemed to overwhelm him. Brief flashes of a ponytailed youth he recognized motioning at this guy, as if trying to make an introduction. Anything important however, was drowned out by the static. It lasted briefly, only a moment or more, and Alex grimaced, raising his head he didn't know he'd lowered. He'd put his papers away and massaged his temple as he could feel a headache coming.
Oh, hell, that was the Echo, wasn't it?
Why was he getting an Echo vision of this guy when it'd never fired on Zephon before? And why was it so... static-y? His experience with the Echo had always been exceptionally clear, as if he were there living it. This felt like a faded memory from another party. And did this guy even know Ramza? He had been certain the ponytailed youth had been the Beoulve boy. But that made no sense, the fashion didn't fit at all. An otherworldly visitor? But, that made no sense, the veil between worlds hadn't been as weak as it was in his time. He thought to the papers in his jacket, and back to the man. He was muscular and lean, an ideal heroic frame. His boots were zipped and tied, like he was fresh from military life. He looked full of determination, fixed on his goal, ready to face the challenge ahead. It was too strange to simply walk away from, not when he got a reaction like that. Furthermore, why had it never worked with Prompto? If ever there was a time where he would have really liked the Echo to show itself again, it would've been really helpful there!
Shit, his mood was going down, when it had been so good, earlier!. He took a deep breath, ignoring the growing, throbbing pain in his skull, and stepped closer to the shop, fighting down the growing agitation. If this guy new Ramza, and was as good as he looked... well, one good turn for the Rising Stones deserved another, right? And while it would be rude to interrupt, the best way to simply make one's intent clear, was to stare. Obviously. Stare, and wait. Those papers may yet find use before he even got back, if all things worked out. Besides, this guy could probably use a hand for paying for repairs, right?
Post by Cloud Strife on Jul 29, 2022 11:57:57 GMT -6
Cloud looked from the craggy grease-smeared face of the mechanic to the dead motorcycle that stood between them on its rusty kickstand. He scratched at the back of his head, Mako-eyes tracing the run of a feed line as it curved into the guts of the bike's engine. Somewhere in there was a leaking seal that he couldn't see at a glance. Parts corroded by the Sonoran winter road salt that needed replacing. All of it amounted to a price tag that, parts and labor all in, Cloud couldn't afford. He crossed his arms loosely over his chest, furrowed his brows as his available options disappeared one by one.
"Shit," he said tonelessly, and mostly to himself.
The bike itself was sold to Cloud as having 'good bones', which Cloud learned was the kind of thing people said when they really meant 'you're going to have to spend twice as much gil just to make the thing run without the fuel tank falling off'. He'd worked himself ragged pulling odd jobs in Sonora to buy the bike in the first place, but the impulsive trek all the way down to Provo had been too much for it, and the time he spent laid up waiting for the hole in his chest to heal shut had been too much for his wallet.
It would be cheaper to leave it for the scrapyard and find another way back, but Cloud was nothing if not a sucker for the sunk cost fallacy. Besides, it had potential. He could see it beyond the wear and tear. Just a few new parts and a tune up and a coat of paint.
Yeah. Keep tellin' yourself that.
"Well?" the mechanic asked, snorting a mucus drip up one nostril and down into his throat, loudly spitting it out onto an oil stain on the cracked stone floor. There was an audible splat, even above the ambient noise of the busy market around them.
Cloud made a face, then shook his head.
"I can't afford that."
"Too bad," the mechanic said, shrugging. "Road's that way, kid." He turned around. The dismissiveness of it brought a tightness into Cloud's shoulders, made the back of his neck get hot.
Asshole.
"Hey--" Cloud interjected, taking a step forward. The mechanic glanced back over his shoulder with a sour look on his face that suggested he was already over the conversation. Cloud's eyes narrowed, and the set of his jaw and the bite in his tone matched levels with the mechanic's frustration. "Just sell me the part then, and I'll fix it myself."
Cloud told himself he'd spent enough time in proximity to Cid that he could probably figure it out on his own. Probably.
"You want to fix it yourself now, huh? Yeah, okay, sure. It's 4,000 gil."
Cloud stared the mechanic down, letting a tense moment of silence stretch between them. His expression was fixed and inscrutable. Inwardly, he knew he did not have to check his pockets and count his gil. He took in a long breath and exhaled it with a sigh and a shake of his head.
"...Shit."
He turned away from the mechanic then, not leaving, but taking a moment to assess what he was left with. Nothing. His hands dropped, fists resting at his hips, and when staring at the ground in front of his feet yielded no new ideas he raised his head and saw someone standing a couple dozen feet away, staring. Like the guy was trying to bore a hole through Cloud's skull with his eyes. Cloud squinted. He didn't recognize anything about the guy. Not face, or weapons, or clothing. There was no strange tug at the back of his mind.
Alex watched with pointed interest, ignoring the growing pain as best he could. He made no attempt to pretend he wasn't listening in. After all, this was something that might be worthwhile to him. So he waited for the man to be defeated before he turned around, and well... When the man turned around and actually spoke to him. It... really did not help, causing Alex to raise a hand to his temple and softly massage it, giving his head a brief shake. Yeah, this guy was causing him brain pain. At least enough that it was enough to really trigger the Echo for the first time in... since he'd gotten here, honestly. Alex was definitely able to come to one clear conclusion though. He looked like an older, more stylish Prompto. Alex also made it a point to never actually say that out loud. Knowing his luck, Prompto would just be rounding a corner or something if he did. He'd overhear it and then get sulky and it'd just be yet another faux pas. No, he was starting to understand just the extent of sheer bad luck he had with the guy.
What'd he want? Alex quirked an eyebrow. "Sorry. Headache." He dismissed what he was feeling. Best to go with something simple. He had a feeling the fellow in front of him would not understand the idea of a memory inflicted migraine. He paused for a moment, before realizing that he was staring at the guy again. He had really pretty eyes, now that he looked. Alex wished his glowed like that. A pair of glowing amber eyes in the dark or something would be really neat. Still, as an opportunistic grin broke out, Alex found himself sauntering closer, never really one to let someone's misfortune go to waste. Used car salesman indeed. "You, my spiky haired friend, look like you're in a spot of trouble." Namely that he could not afford to fix that motorcycle, which was all well and good for the blonde adventurer. Stopping to lean against the door way, the grin grew almost Chesirelike. "Bet it'd be real nice to have someone who could help you out right now." Not that he'd front the money, which he wasn't entirely sure he had, but, well, resources.
Though then the question was how. "But you seem to have some pretty good luck. I might just be able to help with that." How, exactly, would he help this blonde haired stranger who may or may not have been from his world? Though he was certain he wasn't. He had ideas. If the allure of jobs wouldn't work, then maybe he could talk the mechanic into cutting the guy some slack. He may have had difficulties with Prompto, but Prompto could just be hard to read. This seemed straightforward enough, and well, Alex was pretty confident that he was charismatic enough to work out a deal. Probably. Either way, the other, spiky haired blonde seemed to be rather competent... looking, at least. He obviously had poor money sense, but that just gave him something to work with.
Standing up straight, Alex steepled his fingers in a manner that wasn't at all suspicious. "But where are my manners? I am Alexander Sorel, guildmaster of the Rising Stones. Maybe you've heard of us?" After all, things were on the rise! Before long he'd be able to give the Dragonblades a run for their money. Drive them out of business, even. Surely.
Post by Cloud Strife on Dec 14, 2022 23:32:41 GMT -6
Cloud watched the guy from a position somewhere between confusion and suspicion. But he recognized the hand to the temple and the shake of the head. Could have been him, not that long ago - followed up by a crippling lightning bolt through his skull, the kind that dropped him to his knees. This guy didn't seem to have it quite so bad. Maybe he didn't need the pieces of his brain taped back together. Maybe he just needed to drink more water.
As the guy approached - still staring way too intently - Cloud found the sympathy of that recognition evaporating. He didn't quite take a step away but the reflex to do so was there, in the tension of his muscles, buzzing with it like a racing chocobo at the starting gate. He held his ground, tilted his chin up a fraction of a degree like it made him taller. The combination of that grin and the too-familiar 'friend' set Cloud's teeth on edge. A handful of faces grinned the same grin at Cloud and it almost always preceded a fight. He could feel it in his knuckles.
What the hell game is he playing?
For a brief moment, Cloud's mind grabbed for the familiar paranoia - some stooge of Sephiroth's, grinning that grin on purpose. New puppet come to taunt the old. Explained the headache. The staring.
A voice that wasn't Cloud's, a voice that was more sensible and reassuring, piped up from the back of his mind.
Calm down.
He should probably listen to that one more often. Cloud crossed his arms, pushed the paranoia back down into the soles of his boots, and settled for a healthy suspicion. Maybe the guy was just a fucking weirdo come to take advantage of the situation. Charity with a catch? No, Cloud clocked a definite salesman vibe as Alex introduced himself and his guild. Neither name rang a single solitary bell in Cloud's mind.
Glancing briefly at the steepled fingers, he shook his head.
"Never heard of you," he said flatly. There were probably more elegant ways to state that fact, but Cloud had never been a wordsmith for a single second of his life.
Behind him, the mechanic made an impatient noise, the kind of sound that communicated whole sentences like 'get your trash bike out of my shop already' punctuated with colorful expletives. Cloud's eyes narrowed, but he didn't give the greasy old wrench-turner a second look.
"Rising Stones doesn't sound like a guild of mechanics. So what kind of help are you talkin' about?"
He really hoped it wasn't outright charity. Cloud didn't feel like having a stupid fight with his own sense of pride.
Didn't recognize them. No, shit, really. Alex had to be fair on that count. With the Dragonblades on the lips of everyone who was anyone and that shitshow a while back between Sephiroth and that blonde asshole, it was amazing the Stones were even still in the game. Alex looked away for a moment, before coolly responding "Okay, fair. That sounds about right. We've been having trouble getting back on our feet since that fiasco of a fight a while ago. Almost ruined us, to be honest." There was a light coughing noise. "But we're coming back. Better than ever. Inviolate. Invincible." He wouldn't deny it. Sephiroth had been the best thing to happen to them in a long time. Alex was just hoping that they had turned a corner and that things were going to get better. Maybe they could finally solidify their hold on Provo and keep the Dragonblades from expanding there.
Of course, this guy had to continue to be smarmy about it, but Alex would let it slide, just this once. "We might be. You never know. Adventurers are a versatile, talented bunch. Makes sense that a guild of them would be a guild of many talents, right?" Not a guild of mechanics, an Adventurer's Guild. A nice way to retire, seeing as his dream of getting his own island sanctuary would forever remain a dream. Back to the matter at hand, Alex unsteepled his fingers and grabbed the ads from his jacket, fanning himself as if he were warm for a moment as he moved in a step closer. "But, well, you look like a capable sort. And the Stones are always looking for that." Folding up the ads, he handed them out to the blonde man with motorcycle troubles. An excellent way to describe him, yes. "I've got a few jobs here that could use someone capable."
But as the mechanic grunted, sending a not so subtle cue, Alex moved on. "And seeing as this uh," He looked the guy up and down for a moment before he finally finished with "Guy." Yeah, he wouldn't exactly use the term gentleman for him. Besides, he'd probably never see him again. That'd be Spiky's problem. "Is getting impatient, you can keep that vehicle at the Stones in the meantime." Alex wouldn't let it get stolen, at least. He doubted he'd let it inside, but, well, if there was a place he had to put it... "Only thing you'd have to worry about is a chocobo getting curious and poking at it. But who doesn't love a friendly chocobo, right?" Well, Ragnabawk probably wouldn't mind. Maybe. He could suck it up if he did considering he'd gotten a free ride ever since arriving in this world. He'd been complaining ever since Prompto left, boy had spoiled him rotten.
Post by Cloud Strife on Feb 23, 2023 15:36:14 GMT -6
The more Alex talked - and he seemed really into that, the whole talking thing - the more Cloud regarded him in the vaguely uncomfortable way he would if he got caught on a streetcorner by someone with a stack of pamphlets and a Good Word they really wanted to tell him about. The stiff nod followed at words he wasn't really listening to while discreetly searching for an escape route. Yeah, sure, fight, ruined, better than ever. But it was just his damn luck that there was no escape. The fucking bike rooted him in place until he could get it fixed. Dirt cheap and he still overpaid for it. Piece of junk.
Reluctantly, he took the ads offered to him and flipped through the pages just enough to skim the text. None of it was outside his wheelhouse, and in different circumstances it was the kind of work he'd be looking for. But Provo was no place for him now, and he definitely didn't want to explain to this guy why. The emptiness of his wallet and the realities of capitalism didn't leave him with an abundance of choice, regardless of what he wanted. It wasn't like he could leave Provo until he had cash in hand. What the hell else could he do to get that cash? The only marketable talent Cloud could fall back on was hitting things with a sword unless somebody at the track offered him a free chocobo.
And, he had to admit, the 'friendly chocobo' part of Alex's deal didn't sound bad. But 'guild' sounded like a long term agreement, and however broke he was and however many chocobos this Alex guy wanted to bait him with, Cloud wasn't about to join anything right now. The last time he signed a contract, it ended with him in a mako tank.
"Listen, it's a nice offer, but I don't live here, man. I'm just trying to get back to Sonora," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck, "If you're hiring for the day then maybe I can take a job, but I can't join any guilds."
The word guild was awkward on his tongue, and he didn't quite know what a guild was, but he'd been operating on the assumption that it was basically a fancy name for a business and nothing so far had proved him wrong. And if he thought about it, Alex did look like the kind of guy who'd say 'adventurer's guild' instead of 'mercenary company'. Marketing, or something.
