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 Jun 5, 2024 8:19:30 GMT -6
"Got a story for me?"
Violet Vayne was many things. A talented reporter? Most who read her articles would agree, at least in the sense that she had a certain flair and passion for the gossip columns; her strength. A fashionista? Anybody worth listening to (in Violet's mind) would definitely agree; she never went anywhere unless she looked absolutely perfect. Wearer of too much perfume? Literally anybody who had been in the same room as her would say so.
But the one thing absolutely nobody would ever say Violet was in a million years, the one thing that you could survey every single person on every single world and not a single one would suggest about her, is that she was an 'outdoors kind of girl'. Violet was the type of person who considered an open air market 'the great outdoors', walking across a manicured lawn 'rough terrain', and could count on one hand the times her elegant footwear had ever made contact with something that wasn't stone, concrete or steel.
Which was why she was having so much trouble on the outskirts of Torensten. There had been reports of bandit groups gathering nearby, and she thought it'd be a good news story. Oh, sure, she was making headway with all of her 'outsider interviews', but they were, in the eyes of most, essentially puff pieces. If she wanted to earn a reputation as a real reporter, she had to find some real news. (Of course, some might say, also not dressing in extremely pink, extremely frilly outfits every day, constantly spritzing perfume, and using all pink accessories including scented paper to turn in her assignments might have helped there too, but Violet wasn't willing to entertain such nonsense).
She stopped, breathless, fanning herself with a hand fan as she continued to look. Walking on sand was difficult, she was finding, although that might have been due to her insistence on doing it in high heels. Worse yet, she hadn't seen any signs of the bandits at all. And yes, she wasn't completely stupid, she was aware of the danger, but she had nothing of value on her, so she figured they wouldn't hurt her, even if they spotted her. Which they wouldn't, because she'd be stealthy! (Violet was unaware that being as pink as she was and wearing as much perfume as she was, as well as her constant grunts of 'eugh' and 'ew' at the sand meant that stealth was a pipe dream).
As if to emphasise, it was at that moment that Violet put her foot on a damp piece of sand, where some water had gathered. Her high heel perfectly slurped into it, causing her to let out a squeal of disgust. It took her a few tugs to pull her foot loose, and apparently, this squeal and delay was the perfect time for the ambush, because before she knew it, a burlap sack was thrown over her, and she was being hoisted onto somebody's shoulder.
She shrieked and kicked completely ineffectually. Apparently, she had failed to find the bandits, but they had not failed to find her...
Post by Renitra Starspear on Jun 5, 2024 18:04:25 GMT -6
“So by this map there should be a chest around here…” Renitra said. She had recently taken up a small side job as a miner, a common side hustle for Ul’dahn adventurers back home. She figured she needed to do something to keep her busy and to find some sort of ‘exercise’ because she was fond of movie exercise. A gym, training dummies and drills could only get her so far.
It just so happened she had found an old worn treasure map in a bottle during her last little foray of rock and stone and had decided to follow it out of a sense of adventure. Unfortunately for her, the map was a dud, or she misread the map. But she did find adventure. She heard the loud squeals of disgust and distress and quickly dove behind a palm tree. She peeked out slowly to see bandits making off with a pink haired female. She didn’t look like an adventurer. “Oh hells…” Renitra put two and two together. It was a kidnapping. She had to hide her time otherwise that girl could end up in worse situations. Renitra was steadfast. She had to help. If she didn’t, who would?
Eventually she pulled her spear and Astrometer off her back and just for certainty, she grabbed the first Astrology card that orbited the piece. She flipped it over. The Arrow. Cognition. She frowned. She needed more information so she grabbed another card. The Spear. A trial. One more… She pulled it out and looked. The Ewer.
“Maybe… she is a bit clueless… or trying to find answers to something… and the trial, me rescuing her… ewer however… I was good as practical. Not actually reading the dang cards… maybe she or I may gain knowledge for this…” she nodded and put the cards back. In reality she was just wasting a few minutes to make sure she could follow without being seen, again, out of fear of the pink haired girl coming to harm. If they let her down, she could safely step in to rescue her.
Post by Violet Vayne on Jun 11, 2024 6:50:49 GMT -6
"Got a story for me?"
Violet kicked and screamed and struggled, but she'd have lost a fight with a toddler, who could then have gone on to beat up four further Violets, let alone a hardened mercenary, and she couldn't do anything but kick her legs about as she was hoisted over the bandit's shoulder. Inside the burlap sack, she couldn't see anything, but trapped with the dark sack around her, even she found herself almost choking on her own perfume, and she was close to conceding that maybe, just maybe, people were right when they said she should wear just a teeny, tiny bit less. Maybe.
She kicked and screamed, but her keen journalistic instincts told her that they wouldn't have kidnapped her without gagging her if there was a chance anybody would be around to save her. So after a few shouts for help, she decided to try another tactic. "W-wait!" she begged. "Please! Listen, I don't have anything to steal! And this bag is ruining my hair!" she shrieked. And then she paused. "Listen! I just want to write about you! I can't write from inside a bag! Let me see!" she asked, but her cries went on deaf ears. They probably figured somebody dressed as fancily as Violet might not have money on her, but would easily be worth money to the right person.
She gave up with a huff, and resided herself to being carried. Well, getting kidnapped was a fine journalistic tradition, wasn't it? At least in the stories she had read as a kid. She just, wished it wasn't happening for real. She fidgeted and wished she still had a camera, before realising taking a photo of the inside of a burlap sack would have been worthless anyway. This stuff was itchy, and she was hoping it wasn't getting in her hair.
She resumed her struggling for a moment, but it was futile, so she gave up again with a pant and decided to wait, moodily.
Post by Renitra Starspear on Jun 21, 2024 16:05:52 GMT -6
Renitra snapped back to reality when she heard the pleas and protests coming from Violet. She peeked out of her hiding place to see her get pulled into the sack after he futile kicks and screams. “Savages…” she muttered. Renitra had a similar experience when she first arrived in Zephon. However in her case she was mistaken for an opera singer named Maria.
Enough was enough. She had to be rescue. Renitra followed discreetly as the bandits took Violet into a small tent and left her there to stew. Renitra watched and waited for the coast to clear. During this time she heard Violet protesting about her hair. Renitra eyerolled. She sounded like a child of an Ishgardian noble who didn't know the hells of combat. Then she said she was a reporter. “As if they'd understand that… but… she might be helpful…” Renitra thought that if violet had connections she might know of ways to leave Zephon. But that was neither here nor there. She cleared her mind, tensed herself, crouched down and focused her energy into her legs, pushing off the ground and into a majestic Dragoon style jump, arcing over the encampment and behind the tent Violet was in.
She slipped inside and found the sack. “Psst..” Renitra whispered to it. “reporter girl. Are you ok? Keep quiet. I'm going to get you out of there… don't scream. And don't panic if my pet meerkat peers inside.” She pulled out a dagger and slashed the top of the sack, opening a hole. She peered inside. “Your hair is the least of your worries by the way.” She said before instinctively putting a hand in, and covering Violets mouth, gagging her as well as warning herm Violet would have felt her hand as cold because she was wearing gauntlets after all. Renitra put a finger to her lips to warn her not to draw attention to themselves before carefully withdrawing her hand off Violet. “Did they hurt you?”
Post by Violet Vayne on Jul 17, 2024 8:34:30 GMT -6
"Got a story for me?"
Violet was aware that she had stopped moving, and seemed to have been dumped somewhere. For a moment, there were no voices around, and she knew that this was her chance to escape. Like a real investigative journalist! Breaking free, sneaking around, finding information! It was exciting! It was thrilling! It was-
-impossible, she realised, as she struggled and tried to free herself, but was hopelessly tied up in the bag, and unable to move. Hm. How did intrepid journalists normally rescue themselves in these situations? She struggled and pulled, but only ended up wincing at the feel of ropes burning her soft, adventure-inexperienced skin.
But then she heard something. A rustling, and a voice. And before she knew it, she could see again, as the bag was cut open. Trying not to spit out too much burlap, and if she did, manage it in a dignified manner, Violet slowly struggled free of the now cut bag, to spot her would-be-rescuer.
Before she could answer, she just let out a small muffled yelp as the woman's cold hand covered her mouth, preventing her from talking. She waited, until she removed it, and then whispered back.
"Oh. Uh, hi. Thank you," she whispered, immediately fussing with her hair despite the other woman's warning. Violet found it was very very rare indeed that her hair was the least of her worries. Her hair was vitally important, and she even produced a small compact mirror to check herself, smoothing out her hair quickly, and becoming irritated when she saw a stray burlap strand had stuck to her lip gloss, which she had to remove delicately. Fortunately, the woman's hand over her mouth hadn't smudged her lip gloss too much. She doubted that she would let Violet stop to fix her make-up before they escaped...
"N-no, I'm not hurt," she insisted quietly. "Although I think they ruined my dress," she added in a quiet huff.
