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.
The current skin was made by Pharaoh Leap of Pixel Perfect. Outside of that, individual posts and characters belong to their creators, and we claim no ownership to what which is not ours. Thank you for stopping by.
[attr="class","bsbody"]Polished glass and sterile concrete. Clusters of cots and cubicles. An urban jungle of suffering and mediocrity, deficient of color, absent of merit or worth. Towers of steel cast an illusion of false prosperity over a land stripped ruthlessly of its precious resources, land that has long since been left to bleed dry until nothing remains. A mixture of halogen and neon pollutes the firmament, forcing this blemish upon the earth to glow as a luminous dome beneath the slate gray night sky. Life and death have become commodities in equal measure. The inhabitants are but insects here, numb to the banality of it all, mindlessly droning through every day of their worthless lives as if there were a higher purpose behind the drudgery. As if there were a reason to hope.
If only the fools were so fortunate... But there is no hope. There is no reason.
Only nothingness.
The poisoned air of Sonora stirs with ominous portent. Some can sense the subtle change, and shiver under the false notion that winter's touch had become harsher, more intense. Most do not notice the shift, nor could they even fathom the possibility of such a thing occurring. Ignorance serves as blessing to these primitive creatures, for they are unburdened by the curse of greater knowledge, thus unable to comprehend the full scope of every horrible thing that sits beyond the threshold of human perception.
Only a small few, the pariahs and the outcasts, who sit beyond the fringes of civilized society as spectators looking inward; they are aware of what is to come. Premonitions. Paranoid delusions. Horrible visions. Nightmares. The gnawing suspicion that something is coming, and that it cannot be stopped. Only the most fragile minds collapse under the weight of this inviolable truth, reduced to a gibbering mess of tears and nonsense, but even those with the fortitude to resist the jaws of madness can no longer eke out their lives in normalcy, for they have been changed, warped, by their experience forever.
They, too, know the cosmic truth. The one answer. That which cannot be denied no longer.
Post by Alexander Sorel on Jul 25, 2022 11:56:21 GMT -6
[attr="class","ohlove"]
[attr="class","lacking"]
[attr="class","eyes"]✎ tag: @cloudofdarkness
Stories Sown Along the Way
tales of loss and fire and faith
As the chill in the air picked up, Alex stopped on the sidewalk for a moment, people passing him by. Some deftly weaved around him, some accidentally bumped against him and muttered a quick excuse. Some seemed to deliberately shove into him, which always got an instinctual shove back. Alexander, even when focused on something else, didn't like being pushed around. Literally. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again, the hair on his neck standing on edge. No, this wasn't just some cold front coming in. This was that feeling that would creep into him when shit was about to hit the fan, when danger loomed on the horizon and there'd be too much at risk as always. It was a feeling he'd become well familiar with his life, and there was a part of him surprised that even after his time here, that instinct hadn't dulled at all. The only question was, what could be causing it? He looked to the sky for a moment, as if expecting something, before looking around. How many to get out of the way? Was he overpreparing?
Shuffling his shoulders somewhat, he muttered to himself. "I have a bad feeling about this." It felt odd, to be honest, being back in this state of mind. Ever since coming to Zephon, there hadn't been anything that caused this. He told himself to push it down, just a little. This was Sonora, and while the place in itself was crazy, it was well defended, with plenty of capable warriors, Outlanders or not, that could rush to its defense if need be. He tried to think of other possibilities, mist coming from his lips. Well, considering the past few times he'd been here. "Alright, then. Is it Nald or Thal?" Maybe Noctis or Prompto had gotten themselves into trouble again and he was going to have to step in. Again. Though neither of those situations, chaotic though they were, had the feeling of dread looming on the horizon. They just... happened. "Or maybe Ignis and Gladio broke out and I'm about to go four for four." Though that'd be nice, even if it meant dealing with Sonoran law enforcement. Again.
Nothing, and he pursed his lips. He still felt it within, a predator rising from its slumber to position itself, ready to lunge and destroy. It still bothered him that he didn't know the cause, but he'd been through it too many times to ignore it. Quietly, he began to prepare spells, unneeded, he tried to tell himself, but he could feel the aether welling up within, spreading it through the ground, the air, seeing if there was something he'd brush against with that magic to tell the tale. He didn't have his gear, that would be an issue. Quietly, with a face hard as stone, he finally began to move again, hoping to head toward whatever the source of this dread was, but it felt more like fumbling in the dark. He really hoped this was just some kind of bad memory flaring up bringing back horrid feelings, and not actually something about to hit the fan.
[attr="class","bsbody"]A single body among the crowd takes pause at the sudden change in Sonora's ambiance. The prey senses peril, but cannot identify the root cause; neurotic anticipation of the worst outcomes render the organism unable to move, but only for a moment. Paranoia compels the mortal to keep a vigilant mind, and though he tries to glean the swirling arcane powers for signs of impending danger, he is given nothing to anchor his suspicions against. Only quiet mnemonic recitations seemed to give the human any peace of mind in the face of uncertainty, if only because knowledge of magic allowed for a convincing assumption that one could assert control over their own lives.
Magic. Control. Barring any mutual exclusivity between the two terms, they almost always go hand-in-hand with one another: spells can permit the caster to bend the laws of nature, of reality, to their every whim. To summon the elemental powers at your fingertips. To induce poison, sleep, or confusion against your foes. To heal wounds and restore life to the dying. To shield and protect the ones you love from harm. Are these not methods of control, or means of exerting one's will upon the world? Upon others?
It is certainly accurate to say that this pitiful creature, desperate as he was to presume competence before an unforeseen disaster, was fumbling in the dark.
Rushing footsteps on the sidewalk, splashing through the melted snow. Hurried and exhausted breathing. A look of infathomable horror, drowning beneath an endless sea of tears and sweat-soaked blond hair. He cannot look to be older than five or six, yet he runs for his life, agaianst the flow of foot traffic, driven by some primal fear to escape its cause. Instinct keeps his feet moving, but also guides the boy to turn around, as if expecting there to be distance between himself and his invisible pursuer.
He only shrieks aloud, triggering shocked expressions from the crowd, which then turn into collective panic as the frightened child stumbles his way into the center of a four-way crossing, trying desperately to fend off something that did not exist.
The fear reaches a crescendo as soon as two beams of light suddenly approached from the east, illuminating the scared boy's form and growing brighter with every passing microsecond. The telltale blare of a horn signaled that the approaching vehicle was a truck of some nature, and that it was coming in too fast to properly apply the brakes and slow down!
Only one person among these civilians could save the child's life before this could turn into a tragedy.
Post by Alexander Sorel on Aug 25, 2022 20:53:34 GMT -6
[attr="class","ohlove"]
[attr="class","lacking"]
[attr="class","eyes"]✎ tag: @cloudofdarkness
Stories Sown Along the Way
tales of loss and fire and faith
Really, it's the shrieking that pulls his attention, the magic dissipating for just a moment. Amber eyes dart to the source, a worry growing in his stomach. The feeling was all too familiar, and if it were the same as the Final Days, then the boy would be his own undoing by panicking. The transformation into a Blasphemy didn't discriminate. The memory of Thavnair made that all too clear. There's only a moment of relief however when he sees that it's just that the child is about to be run over, before Alexander realizes that the child is about to be run over. Fortunately, there's a spell for that. Being a Purple Mage may have meant he wasn't the most powerful of Magi, but he'd eat his shoes if he could find one with a larger spell book than him. The Ascians did not count, he reminded himself. They never counted. Reaching an arm out, an orange tendril shoots forth, wrapping around the child's waist and yanking him over to Alexander. He only hoped the boy didn't scream like Prompto did. Though he wasn't exactly sure what that would say about Prompto if this boy, terrified as he was, kept it together better.
So Alexander knelt down to get on the boy's level. How hard could that be, right? Sure, interacting with Prompto might have been a disaster, but this was just a kid! How similar could it be? "Get inside, somewhere safe." It comes out softly, soothingly. Just to get the kid out of harm's way. Unless some magic nuke landed on wherever he went. That'd be his luck, really. Instead, he gave the boy a smile. A really stupid, dorky looking smile. Honestly, it probably didn't occur to him just how embarrassing he looked like that. "Don't worry, I got this. I'm a superhero. The Great Azuro. Just got caught in my secret identity is all." It wasn't... entirely wrong. He'd been the Great Azuro back home, and as part of things with Cissnei, it looked like that would be coming back. Now, whether he'd go around doing heroics like some costumed idiot was... yeah, that was actually exactly what he'd be doing, and he was lying to himself if he insisted otherwise.
Standing back up to his feet. He took a deep breath, and looked to the skies. They weren't burning at least. It seemed people were just in a panic over something causing that feeling of dread and doom. An oncoming storm. It was too familiar for his liking, but it wasn't the Final Days. The Endsinger had needed time to really ramp things up though, and he wasn't sure if this was the same. Was this as dangerous as it would get? Or would the skies bleed, the earth cry, and the people of Sonora turn to baleful fiends. He summoned his magic again, trying to find some kind of explanation as to what was going on. Simply drawing his weapon and charging forth would get him nowhere. One thing was for certain though as his eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed. Whatever was causing this had to go. Alex had no intention of letting this get anywhere, not if he could help it. His eyes again scanned the area, determined to keep as many safe as he could. For as much as a grump he could be, he wasn't a villain, at least.
Though one thing did occur to him. "No, I haven't heard Meteion yet." She had tipped her hand last time. But he'd also had the Echo then. Perhaps without it, he was deaf to her as well. That wasn't a good thought, either.
