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.
Post by Violet Vayne on Dec 19, 2023 11:49:27 GMT -6
"Got a story for me?"
Violet pushed open the door to the Dragonblades headquarters with slight trepidation. She looked at her manicured fingers as she withdrew them from the door and wondered if there was anything to wipe them on. Even the doors here were messy compared to back home. She missed the comforting buzz of an automatic door that she didn't have to touch. She took a breath, and straightened out her blazer. She was a little nervous, yes. An institution of mercenaries was a little outside of her comfort zone. But that never stopped her before! She was always ready to step outside of her comfort zone. Like that time she headed down to the Sector One slums. And had to be rescued. Or that time she headed into the ruins of the Sector Five reactor. And had to be rescued.
But this was different, surely? She was sure it would be fine.
The bigger challenge would be figuring out what to talk to them about. Violet had no idea what a mercenary's life was like. But then again, that was the fun, wasn't it? Asking obvious questions, getting obvious answers, and learning. She was sure lots of people in Torensten would love to know all about their resident mercenary group. When she thought about it like that, it was kind of exciting. And so, with renewed excitement, she stepped through the door into the Dragonblade headquarters, managing her best PR smile.
Her high heeled boots clicked on the stone floor as she entered, and the expensive perfume scent that surrounded her like a cloak no doubt marked her out from the presence of grimy mercenaries. She did her best not to make a face at the training accommodations. Gym class and physical education had never been her thing, even in school, less so now. Call her a priss if you liked, but she thought sweating was gross and something to be avoided.
She glanced down at the bell on the counter, and gave it a ring, noting as various string pullies seemed to make sure the bell rang throughout the area. Well, it was no intercomm or cell phone, but she supposed it would do. And then she stood, crossing her arms and trying to look as professional as she could as she waited to see if one of the leaders would arrive. After that, it was just trying to persuade them to sit down for an interview...
[attr=class,bulk] Celes was in one of their side rooms, a plain, bare-bones kind of room with just a bed and a half-open window when she was startled awake by the sound of a bell.
Celes sat straight up, breathing heavily, heart pounding as she tried to take in her surroundings, one hand at her chest and the other grasping uselessly at her hip for a sword. Once again, she found herself in the deep humidity of a tropical climate. Once again, she heard the twittering of colorful birds out the window. Once again, she wasn’t in a ruined world of cracked earth and poisoned water, but instead, in a vibrant one that she had sworn years ago to protect with her life.
Celes held her breath, counted to ten, and then let it out slowly, pressing her forehead into her palm. She must have fallen asleep again. She had a habit of doing that lately whenever she wandered off to a quiet room to rest her eyes for a while. She was still fully dressed in her civilian clothes, boots on, legs halfway off the bed to keep the sheets clean. Her yellow jacket was slightly askew and her undershirt had slipped slightly, almost to the point of indecency. Not that there was any reason to be decent here. She was alone in the loneliest of spare bedrooms, one converted from what she thought had once been a maintenance closet.
There’d been a bell. Right. Which meant that someone ought to handle that. Celes groaned, cursed under her breath, and forced herself back on her feet, straightening her clothes as she did so.
The Wyvern’s Rest was closed today. Or at least, they were closed to mercenary business. The trainees had the day off. So did Tomoe, the receptionist. That left only the permanent residents to wander the halls. Who was that now? Mid? Terra? Clive? None of them could handle a bell ring at the front desk because a bell ring at the front desk could only mean one of two things. Either a potential client or a potential recruit. That was Celes’ business and so she did her best to run her hands through her bed-raggled hair, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and started out towards the front lobby.
She had to admit, the Wyvern’s Rest felt strangely empty without the sound of swords clashing in the courtyard. There weren’t many sounds at all, really, which wouldn’t have bothered her except that she’d grown used to them. It made her feel like she was the only one left in the entire world which happened to be her least favorite feeling despite her rather standoffish demeanor. She blamed the trauma. She was almost certainly correct.
When she came to the lobby, that feeling of loneliness dissipated to be replaced by a mask of professionalism when she saw the overdressed young woman waiting there for her. A client. She had to be. And so Celes nodded to her politely and started towards the desk, ready to take out a pen and paper to write down whatever the girl wanted and start haggling on a price.
”Welcome,” she said though in truth she wished that she hadn’t been woken from her midday nap and that this girl had stayed very well away. ”I’m Celes Chere of the Dragonblades. Is there anything I can help you with?”
Post by Violet Vayne on Dec 19, 2023 12:57:34 GMT -6
"Got a story for me?"
Violet smiled as the commanding looking woman appeared. She looked tired, to Violet's eyes, and she noted that perhaps this wasn't the best time. This would be a whole lot easier if Zephron would hurry up and invent cellphones so that she could call ahead. However, despite that, she was greeted with professionalism, and it surprised her just how... ordinary the woman was. Oh, she looked tough. Like she could break Violet in half using only her pinkie (not that that was saying much), but she wasn't the kind of gruff, growly, heavily scarred mercenary that she had imagined. Maybe this would be easier than Violet had thought. She was actually quite pretty. Violet bet she cleaned up nicely in some stylish clothes, but thought better of asking about that.
She was about to answer when she noticed the woman, Celes, heading for a nearby desk, apparently to get a notepad and paper. She let out a very small laugh, and quickly stifled it. "Sorry, that's a first," she smiled. "Usually I'm the one with the pen and paper," she added as an explanation. And then paused. "Violet Vayne. I'm with the Torensten Times," she said, taking a step forwards with an audible click-clack and extending a well manicured hand. She had at least heard of Celes Chere. She knew that she was the leader of the Dragonblades, along with another one. Yes, she had done her research. She was a good journalist, darn it. Even if research in Torensten meant asking around, since, hey, no Shinra Net to check, which made life harder.
There had been some claims about a third leader of the Dragonblades, but everybody said that was just some mouthy kid who was making things up. "I know that you must be really busy, and I'm sure this is totally not something you'd usually be interested in," she began, before remembering she was meant to sound a bit more professional and a little less 'high school'. Back in Midgar, her youth had been used as a selling point, as she was the cheerful teenage face of Shinra's youth orientated propaganda, but now, she had to sound like an adult. "...but, uh, well, I'm doing a series of articles about people transposed from their homes. I'm trying to highlight all the good that's done by them. It could really help public perception of both the Dragonblades and how everybody views those of us who got sent here," she explained, trying to make it clear that she was one of them.
"I'm sure my readers would absolutely love to hear from the leader of the Dragonblades. Would you be free for a little chat?" she asked hopefully, offering her sunniest smile whilst also trying to physically manifest an aura of professionalism through her will power alone. She wasn't sure that latter bit was working as well as she had hoped.
[attr=class,bulk] ”Hm?” Celes paused, a quill already in her hand. Had this girl… laughed at her? Surely not. But she was certainly smiling as Celes glanced up from her work at the desk to hear the girl’s formal introduction.
”The…Torensten Times?” Celes repeated, the cogs in her mind still rusty with sleep. Then it clicked. ”Oh.” That was all she could say. ’Oh. This was a reporter. With the local newspaper. Which meant she wanted a story.
Celes felt her professional smile slip as her mouth twisted into a look of absolute horror. A reporter wanted a story. And here Celes was, the only available one to give it. Oh no. Oh no no no no no.
Celes was no stranger to stories being written about her. She’d been the ice queen soldier of the Geystahlian Empire, the first successful magitek knight and the youngest general in its history. Some of the stories she’d read. Others she’d tossed aside because she had better things to do than worry about some local gossip. But never, not in all of her life, had the reporters come directly to her for a statement. She’d had people for that. The army had people for that.
Now she was alone. The co-founder of the Dragonblades with the other founder inconveniently away. And here was a reporter for the Torensten Times looking for a story.
The reporter, Violet Vayne, extended a hand and Celes simply stared at it for a moment before she remembered proper etiquette and took it in her own, giving it a hard, assertive shake.
Violet’s hands were soft against Celes’ well-worn callouses. While Celes kept her nails short and practical, Violet’s were long, painted, and carefully filed.
How was she supposed to talk to someone like this?
The reporter gave her speech. Or was it more of an advertisement? Celes watched her the entire time she spoke, uncertain whether she still wore a look of terror or if it had morphed into her usual cool gaze. She’d been told that her resting face was rather intimidating.
What did it matter? As long as she was listening properly?
”We’re not busy today,” Celes started slowly, realizing all the while that she was digging her own grave. ”The Dragonblades don’t need more publicity, but if you think it would help other Off-Worlders…”
Oh no. There was only one answer she could give, wasn’t there? This girl with her precisely buttoned vest and immaculate blonde hair and soft hands had somehow managed to trap her with her own good will. Damn it all.
”I don’t usually give interviews,” Celes said, perhaps a little sterner than was necessary. ”But…I might as well make an exception.” Celes bit her lip, feeling suddenly small and uncertain as she waved a hand towards the sitting area of the lobby near the unlit hearth. The couch was, unfortunately, broken by that oversized mutt of a dog that Clive kept around and Celes hadn’t gotten around to replacing it and so it drooped sadly, nearly touching the floor.
Celes really, truly hoped that the reporter would take one of the other armchairs instead.
”You can take a seat if that’s easier. I don’t know how long this usually takes…” Celes followed her own advice, taking one of the two armchairs that didn’t have wolf drool stained into the cushions. She sat perched on the edge of her seat as though ready to spring into combat at any moment. It was a subconscious effect of her nerves.
Usually when she was this tense, she was about to be eaten by a monster or stabbed by some enemy combatant. Celes made a conscious effort to unclench her fists as she looked at the reporter expectantly. ”Well? What do you want to know?”
Post by Violet Vayne on Jan 1, 2024 16:35:49 GMT -6
"Got a story for me?"
Violet had many flaws. Even she knew that. She was prissy, she could be snobby, she was vain, she was physically weak and incapable, she had the combat skills of a wet paper bag, and she thought 'tactics' were something to come up with when a store had a sale on and you just had to get to the cut price purses first. But, if there was one thing she was pretty good at, even at her young age, it was reading people's emotions. And so, she saw in Celes the blind terror that came with her being a reporter.
She wasn't going to lie, there was the teensiest tiniest thrill to it. Celes was, after all, the head of a super tough mercenary team, and here she was, acting like she was scared of Violet! Oh, sure, she knew it wasn't physically scared, and Celes could crush her with her pinkie in a fight, but there was still something a little exciting about it.
It was a feeling she squashed down under her professionalism, and she offered Celes a gentle smile. She had noticed the rough hands. So very, very unlike her own. Maybe she could recommend Celes some moisturiser when this was all over.
"Don't worry," she smiled delicately. "I'm not writing some big shock exposé or trying to catch you off guard, or anything. I'm not that kind of journalist. I write about people. Just stories about them. I don't write anything you don't want me to write, I'm not out to write some character assassination piece. It's just, human interest stories, so I promise you, there's nothing to worry about," she smiled politely. OKAY so maybe in the past on certain celebrity articles maybe Violet had a history of twisting them into gossipy shockers, but that was different. Here was a whole new world, and Celes wasn't a celebrity. She was just after a human story, and to see if she could make any good connections.
She looked at the available seats. A broken sofa. A dirty chair. She opted for the chair, doing her best to maintain professionalism and not make a face as she sat down, trying not to wince at the possibly dog hair currently sticking itself to her skirt. It wasn't that she didn't like animals; it was just that she thought animals should be admired from afar. Where they couldn't get fur or slobber on you. Still, she did her best to make it look like she wasn't TOO uncomfortable with the seat. But she was held in a very poised position, clearly not sitting back.
"Honestly, these things take as long as you want. You can tell me as little, or as much, as you feel comfortable. Like I said, there's no pressure. It's not an interrogation. It's just a chat. And if you mention anything you don't want me to print, you just tell me, yeah?" she smiled her sweetest smile.
"Well, why don't we start off with a little about where you're from. What your homeworld was like and what you did there. Were you always a mercenary? What was it like? More or less advanced than Torensten? We have a real mix here. My world was a lot more advanced, and by the Ancients do I miss cellphones..." Violet sighed longingly.
[attr=class,bulk] Celes sat. The reporter sat. They sat across from each other. For an interview. An interview for her.
Celes Chere. Co-founder of the Dragonblades. It wasn’t a smear campaign, the reporter made certain to assure her, just a human interest story. Celes was somehow less assured by that reassurance, and she could feel her heartbeat rise into her ears. Nothing to worry about? Celes was, quite frankly, worried enough as it was.
And her worries were quite founded. As the reporter asked her first question, Celes could only open her mouth and then close it again. Ah yes. Her homeworld. The one Celes had taken part in ruining. What did she do there? Why, war crimes of course! Conquering, mostly. Leading imperial armies. The usual.
Damn it all, what had she gotten herself into?
”Well, ah…” Celes stuttered and then stopped. She dug her finger into the fabric of her pants. Would it look more suspicious if she refused to comment? And what if this was a hit piece? The reputation of the Dragonblades was at stake, and it all relied on her ability to communicate. It all relied on her past.
”It was…” she started again and then stopped, biting her tongue. ”I don’t like to talk about it,” she admitted as though that wasn’t obvious enough already. ”My homeworld, it um…doesn’t have a name like I know some do. I’ve heard Eos, Gaia, Spira, Valisthea…Mine was just…the world. What other world was there? Apparently a lot, but we didn’t know that.”
She was stalling, but maybe the reporter would get something out of that. It was a start, at least.
”The world I come from was…engulfed in war. There was the Geystahlian Empire and then there was, well, everyone else. The kingdoms of Figaro and Doma. Then city states like Narshe and Jidoor. I…was born into the Empire.”
’Keep going.’ Celes closed her eyes and took a deep breath. What use was her so-called redemption if she couldn’t even say her own crimes outloud? It was useless, that’s what.
”I think I was a war orphan. There were so many back then. I…remember the needles. The vats of…magic? It must have been magic. I remember how they glowed. It was a metal room lit up so bright that it hurt to look. Then there were the doctors. Scientists? The procedure started and it…hurt. I think I lost consciousness.”
She thought she might lose consciousness again with how her head was spinning. Her voice cracked as she tried to speak. She cleared her throat and continued.
”A-anyway. In the end, it worked. I could use magic and I hadn’t lost my mind like the last man they’d tried it on. Magic is rare where I come from. Really, only the espers can use it. They’re…creatures from another realm. That’s how the Empire gave it to me, I think. They took one of those creatures and kept it in a vat and extracted the magic from it. I was one of only three people in the world who had magic. There was me, the madman, and another girl. She was half-esper. So that made me…special. And dangerous.”
Here it was. Enough playing the victim. Her mouth was almost too dry to speak as she said, ”I was raised as their soldier. I…became the youngest general in the Empire’s history. I stood at the Emperor’s side during speeches. And I…led our invasion on the free city of Maranda. I was seventeen.”
She looked away, down at the unlit hearth with all of its broken logs and unswept ashes. ”I’m sorry,” she said, almost too quiet to hear. ”I think I need a moment.”
A moment to breathe. A glass of water, maybe. She wished she could sink into the floor and never arise again. After all that she had seen, after all that she had done, she deserved nothing less.
Post by Violet Vayne on Feb 22, 2024 11:28:28 GMT -6
"Got a story for me?"
Violet felt her stomach knot a little with guilt as Celes began to tell her how much she didn't like talking about her home. Violet's question hadn't intended any discomfort, but she supposed it made sense, some people would be so homesick it wouldn't be nice thinking about it. But before she could tell Celes it didn't matter, and persuade her to move on, Celes opened up.
And when she did, it seemed like a Dam had broken, because the information that flowed out was incredible. Immediately, Violet's pen started dancing over her pink scented paper as she made notes. The information that was coming out was both fascinating, and more than slightly terrifying. At first, her world didn't sound that different from Violet's own. A mighty Empire who ruled everything? Well, that wasn't that different from Shinra, was it? Okay, so maybe this Empire was more at the forefront about it.
But then she began to speak about the experiments, and Violet paled a little, if that was possible under her heavy, professional make-up. Again, she supposed it wasn't unlike some of the rumours she had heard about Shinra, with their SOLDIER program, but speaking to a survivor of such a thing was horrific. Especially to learn she was one of only three who could use magic in her world at all, and one had gone insane. It didn't sound entirely unlike Sephiroth, although of course, anybody with materia in Violet's world could use magic.
Violet just never wanted to. They were far too big and gaudy as jewellery went. She preferred smaller, more subtle jewels, and besides, what would she do with magic anyway?
The story turned darker. Celes described how she had been a young general. How she had led an invasion into a place named the 'free city'. Violet was no expert, but she guessed if you were the invaders of a place called the 'free city', you were the bad guys. But then again, she had been pro-Shinra most of her life. And she hadn't been tortured and forced. Just give her a comfortable life and a spotlight and she had jumped as high as Shinra wanted. So could she really fault Celes as she spoke?
And besides, it was easy to see the guilt dancing across her face. The shame. Celes wasn't proud of this. She had been a child soldier. So of course she wasn't. She was ashamed, and she was upset, and Violet looked at her, her heart breaking slightly for this poor woman who had been through so much. She paused, and gave a small smile.
"Of course, take your time," she instructed. Then she looked down at her notes thoughtfully, pausing.
She took a moment, and tore the page free, crumpling it up.
"Look, don't worry. I can see how painful that was, and I'm not here to spread those stories or hurt you," she said. "People don't need to know about that. We can just... carry on from what happened afterwards," she explained. She hoped the story got better. Or at least, something Celes felt that she could share. Maybe she wasn't doing her journalistic due diligence doing that, but she wasn't sure that it mattered. Who here could judge her anyway? And besides, protecting the source was always important, right?
"When you're ready, we can skip to something easier," she said gently.
[attr=class,bulk] ”Something easier?” Celes looked up at the journalist, all prim and poised with her fashionable scarf and her vest perfectly buttoned, and she gave a short, humorless laugh. It was more of a scoff than anything, or it would have been if she could have mustered the energy. Instead, she just sounded tired. She was tired.
Nothing in her life had been easy. Absolutely nothing.
The reporter, Miss Violet Vayne, sounded sympathetic to her story. She supposed it wasn’t hard when looking at it from the outside. To those on the inside, to the people of Maranda and the people of a world her empire had conquered, she was an accessory to murder, and she hadn’t been able to see it until the moment her own life had been forfeit. They’d raised her as a monster, and after that…
After that…
Celes shook her head. ”Nothing’s easier. That’s the point. My world was conquered and then destroyed. The earth turned to dust. The water was polluted. The people lived in fear of a mad god that I helped ascend. I tried to stop it. I tried to stop him, but for what? I only know how to fight. There was too much left to rebuild.
”That’s why…I want to protect this place. I’ve seen the worst come already. When I woke up here, I thought I must have gone insane! There were trees. Real trees! With birds. And leaves. And life.” Her voice broke and her grip tightened on the fabric of her pants.
”Caius is the same. His world, Eos, it was plunged into eternal night. For ten years, there as no sunlight and these monsters he calls demons reigned. There was starvation, hunger, and fear. I remember those days. My own apocalypse was a tad more fiery, but the idea was the same. We were both soldiers without a nation because there weren’t any left to defend. Now we’re here. All we want is a second chance to do things right. We’d die to save the life of even one person let alone the world.”
It was too honest. She knew that, but she’d started with her own story, and her own story tended to get her all riled up. What would a reporter make of this? Would there be more sympathy? More notes? Or would she look up and see pity in the woman’s eyes? They must have been about the same age. Celes doubted the reporter was any older than she’d been when she’d turned her back on the Empire and witnessed the end of it all. How innocent, this girl was at the same age.
Celes vowed to protect that innocence.
”That’s why we formed the Dragonblades, in truth. We want to protect what we can, and we want to give anyone else like us guidance and purpose. It isn’t about the money. We only make enough to keep operating, really, but that’s all that matters. So long as one person can still raise a sword, there’s hope. Hope is all that stands between us and all who would see it destroyed.”
Post by Violet Vayne on Jun 3, 2024 9:41:51 GMT -6
"Got a story for me?"
Violet knew that the words 'self aware' were not often ones attributed to herself. In fact, during her time as a Shinra media personality, her ditzy, airhead, rich girl vibes had been an awful lot of what they had capatalised on, and even now, knowing what she knew, she knew she had a lot of work to do on herself. But she was trying. And she had enough self awareness to realise that Celes's repetition of her request was met with a level of disdain. Disdain that, although it was not directed at her, Violet felt. Because she was actually self aware enough these days to be aware that she was sat there, in her nice clothes, her perfect vest, her fancy scarf, the air thick with her perfume, the perfect coddled rich girl, and the people she was talking to? Less so.
Celes, in particular. Because it seemed nothing in her life had ever been easy. And Violet, while she had faced challenges, such as her realisation of Shinra's awfulness, seeing the aftermath of the terrorist attack, or coming to Zephron all alone, the worse she had ever faced was watching tragedy, writing about tragedy, and then going home to her nice, comfortable, scented bed and settling down in soft, silk sheets.
She stared at the pink piece of paper she was making notes on, like everything else Violet owned, scented. And suddenly felt very self conscious of just how different they were. She looked back across at Celes. She paused, and for a moment, she put her pen down, looking back at her and giving her a slightly sad smile. "I... know what it's like, in a way," she admitted. "Not fighting, I mean. I mean, you say, as long as one person can lift a sword? Well, I'm not one of those people. Those things look heavy," she laughed, flexing her skinny arms and showing off her complete lack of muscle. "But... my world... had its own... evil Empire, I guess. They were called Shinra. They were a private corporation, but they owned everyone and everything. And I was raised in the middle of it. I used to be a journalist and presenter for them. I helped tell the entire world how great Shinra was, to cover up all their atrocities, without even realising what I was doing..." she paused, and gave Celes a sad smile. "Eventually I realised, like you did, what my 'evil empire' were like. I realised they were killing my world. For profit. I never got to rise up against them. I never got to do anything to stop them. And I think about all those years I supported them. I helped them. So.. I understand, the guilt, the shame, the need to do something better..."
"It's why, now I'm here, I only want to help people. I don't want to print trash that hurts people, or inflammatory stuff. I want my words to make people's lives better. I have my own guilt, and my own sins to atone for, and like, let's be real, I can't exactly be a Dragonblade. So, instead, I do this," she said, waving to her pen and paper as she picked it back up.
"So, instead of worrying about who you were, let's talk about who you are now," Violet said. "Now, all of us outsiders know how terrifying it is to arrive in Zephron, without a clue where you are, how you got there, where you're going to live, or what happened to your shoe collection," she paused, and gave what she hoped was a playful smile. "Maybe that last one was just me," she teased.
"So why don't you tell me how you went from that, to heading the most powerful and well respected mercenary operation in Zephron? Because, that journey is truly inspirational. You knew you had to do good, and you set out to do it. But what were those early days like? How did you form this place?" she asked.
