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.
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year 5, quarter 3
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BATHED BLACK IN SILENCE, OUR SURRENDER A SOMBRE REVERIE
Somnus's reaction told him all he needed to know. "I spoke too much, it seems." Cat was out of the bag. Perhaps that was his weakness, he simply could not help but remember wistfully the days of Amaurot. That sort of reaction shouldn't have been too surprising. What was more surprising to the Architect was simply that he was speaking of it to begin with. Perhaps it was a healthy thing, ah, what was it; processing what had happened and letting go? For what else could he do? So far, this world offered no concrete way to save those he loved. No, there were no known solutions like the Great Rejoining. Still, how best to answer; but he decided that ultimately the truth would suffice. The truth rarely lived up to the fantasies quickly building in one's head.
Pointing to his eyes, they narrowed, just ever so slightly. "Mine is only unusual in how keen it is. Even then, I was not the greatest. But most of my people had such abilities to an extent." No, that title had belonged to Hythlodaeus, sight keener than his. Despite his tendencies to wreak havoc for the Convocation by willingly enabling and indulging Azem's rule breaking excursions, there was no denying his brilliance. And yet those thoughts brought more memories to him. It was funny, in its own sad way; at the time, those two, who at the time he begrudgingly called his friends, gave him headaches and aggravate him to no end. But now? With the passing of eons, he'd surrender everything if they would do so again. He'd surrender everything if, for just one dream, they did not all go their separate ways, sundered and set adrift across the myriad reflections of their star.
But, for someone who was likely new to this sort of magic, well, there would likely be further questions. For a Founder King and warrior like Somnus, Hades already had a good guess what one was; "Now, my animancy is not without limits, and I will answer the obvious question--no, I cannot destroy a soul." Simply put, a soul was exceptionally resilient. Destroying one was possible but it was simply beyond his own power to do it. Plus... "Nor would I if I could. The death of the flesh is one thing, but the destruction of a soul? There is no returning from that, I'm afraid." There was the moral considerations to take in. Killing a fragmented being was one thing; if they were never truly alive, one could not commit murder. But destroying their soul denied them reunification, rendering them permanently incomplete, and the Ancient they were but a part of, permanently lost.
And that was a sin most grave.
He folded his fingers together, contemplating if he should. "But all of my people knew the workings of their soul, inside and out, and had such mastery over it." He shouldn't, he really shouldn't. But this was a golden opportunity, and it was one of those moments that he'd probably not get another chance to spring on someone for a very long time. He reached down, opening his drawer as he coolly looked to Somnus. "Observe." It was in such a casual, unassuming tone. And then, with no ceremony whatsoever, he pulled what was in the drawer; a revolver, pressed it against his temple, and pulled the trigger. As the now deceased body of Galvus flopped over, it was only a few seconds later that in a dark flash, he reappeared just behind Somnus, none the worse for the wear.
That was a bad idea, he knew it. Somnus would likely be curious about the immortality. Most rulers like him were, but come on. When was he gonna get another chance to drop that on someone like that? "To us, death was nothing to fear." Death was better than being gone. Oh, those meant very different things in his world. He weaved his magic to repair the damage done to his previous vessel. It was still dead, or about as close as it could be with no soul currently inhabiting it, but he'd at least make sure it didn't look gruesome. That was just uncalled for.
Post by Emet-Selch on Sept 27, 2020 21:23:12 GMT -6
all our splendour
BATHED BLACK IN SILENCE, OUR SURRENDER A SOMBRE REVERIE
Tonight, he would find a play. A lover of the arts, Hades always enjoyed watching actors on a stage, stepping into roles they sometimes had no relation to in reality, and giving it their all. Even if they were critical of him in particular, he never really minded it. It also doubled as a way for him to relax and collect his thoughts, and in truth, he had quite a bit to think about. The Starscourge thrummed throughout him, "threatening" or perhaps desiring to tear its way through him and turn him into one of those misbegotten creatures. He ignored it and contained it. For Hades, the plague could not hope to mar him. It was darkness, pure and simple, and something like this, he knew how to control. It almost disgusted him, honestly, just how that man had been using what could have undoubtedly been a force for good if properly applied. Even with this "plague" he could already think of several, more constructive uses for it, especially when paired with its opposing element. But, alas, that wasn't the only thing that had been bothering him, no, for the Ascian, there were plenty of other things on his mind.
Most tellingly, his recent discoveries regarding this world. Time held no meaning. Space held no meaning as well, but time was the true thing worth noting. Whatever this place was, it existed outside any regulated flow of time. No matter the era, no matter the timeline, this world, and whoever pulled its strings, could pull anyone or anything from their own respective streams and bring them here. That other Warrior of Light had been proof that the myriad branches could be plucked and used as desired, and his interaction with Venat, however brief, proved that it was possible to pull from any point, even if that point was from the days when his Star was unsundered, and his people were whole and hale and healthy. Especially, if that point was from before the Final Days.
For Hades, that changed everything.
That opened up the possibility of salvation, of being able to save his people. It presented a solution that he and the other Paragons had never even contemplated. They had always striven to save both their people and their Star. However, for Hades, his people, his loved ones, had always come before the Star. As much as he loved his home, he would sacrifice it to see his people whole again. For such a miracle, he would gladly pay any price. This world would need work, of course. An underworld would have to be created, and these others... well, he hadn't gotten an accurate gauge on them just yet, but all the concern about foreigners and outsiders in that monthly magazine he read gave him his doubts that his people would be freely welcomed in this world.
He found himself strolling down the streets of Sonora at night. Despite their hostility to outsiders, the guards never gave him much trouble. Mostly because he had money. A productive and lucrative outsider was a welcome outsider, it seemed. The street lights shined a way forward as he continued, hands in his pockets. He couldn't well keep wearing that regalia, no longer being an emperor and all that, even if this body could still claim as such. He'd have to craft a new one, eventually, but that was an issue for another time. For now, he looked at the signs as he passed through, their neon lights announcing to the world what lay within, and well, he was looking for a theater. Hmm... plays were nice, but maybe an opera? He'd find something.
Yes, she was definitely from a different time, far before where Alexander had come from. She knew so little of the Ascians, how they worked, how they functioned. In all honesty, part of him doubted if she even knew what a Rejoining was, aside from "Calamity." He waits for her to finish, gauging what else she is saying, and he's finding that this conversation is beginning to quickly go nowhere productive for him. Oh, it's nothing against her. He holds all the cards in this case and she is sorely uninformed, but well, in this world, that's not his problem. In this world, all are equal, somewhat. Mostly in their situation. Bereft of home and sometimes their memory, from what he had heard, many found themselves in the same situation these two were in.
Still, turned away. Not quite, but at the same time, yes. "I thought I was rather clear on that. I'm retired because the mission of the Ascians cannot be carried out here. I'm out of a job, as you may put it. I cannot cause a Rejoining on a Star unsundered." It was a matter of practicality. The Great Work could not be done here. But could his people be saved? Another thought for another time. "And, well, you already know my thoughts on you keeping others away from the Eye. But as for me, I shall do what I desire. For the first time in so very long, I have that luxury." Yes, free from the burden of duty, at least he had thought, but this woman wound up raising questions about that, questions that needed answering, questions that needed more information.
So he stretched, twisting his body a tad as he lifted his arms up with a yawn. "And right now, that may be a nap." Whenever he found he had time to kill, naps were often a favorite of his. Passed the time quickly, which when you spoke in terms of eons, was quite helpful. It also allowed him to live, if only briefly, happier days, with those who he loved, those who he cherished. How often had he dreamed of them? His dear friends Hythlodaeus, Azem, even his colleagues? How often had he found himself taken back to his home, to spend time with his beloved Persephone, only to open his eyes and be reminded of his situation? Too often, too many.
But! That was dread for another time, as he simply turned away and began to walk wistfully and lazily away. "Mind your manners, be in by bed time, and make sure you eat all your vegetables." He called over his shoulder, as he raised his hand up to wave. Well, it was somewhat of a wave, more a lazy flapping of his hand that could also be taken as a "shoo" as well. There would be no more questions and prattle with him today, if he could help it!
Post by Emet-Selch on Sept 26, 2020 8:32:14 GMT -6
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@somnus
He listened intently. Starscourge, plague. In truth, a plague didn't bother him. Assuming he couldn't just remove it from his vessel, it'd simply be a matter of abandoning it and taking another, or perhaps simply dying and recreating the body. Two brothers, entwined in the destinies of their own world; one playing the savior, the other playing its destroyer. Funny, it seemed even with different stars entirely the same plotlines played themselves out time and again. "That does make sense, Your Majesty. 'Twould seem that he's quite intent on avoiding you." Puff up the ego just a little bit with a small observation. "A pity, though, I rather like Provo." And adding some small chat. But Somnus had his own questions.
What did he do in his world? Different answers flashed in his mind. Different hobbies and tasks flooding him with memories both joyous and sorrowful. A time when the world was whole, and he simply dabbled in magic, being teased by his dear friends for being such a layabout as he simply wiled the days away with his dear Persephone, the memory of whom always filled him with simultaneous love and despair. A time when the world was at the brink and he came on to the Convocation as the Honorable Emet-Selch, striving to save his Star from disaster, with all members but one never faltering at the gargantuan task, no matter the sacrifice. A time when the world was sundered, everyone he knew scattered into pieces amongst the stars, spending incalculable years, passing through the eons themselves, striving to rejoin the worlds and save the ones he loved.
But, he simply settled on the easy answer. No, it wouldn't do to bare his soul to Somnus. "Ah, I was an Animancer, Your Majesty." He had been, somewhat. Not a lie, but it may have been more accurate to say he'd been a guide for recently departed souls to the Underworld, or the Lifestream, as it had become to be known. But Hades knew what answering with that may have done; oh the figure who handles the afterlife and the souls that enter it. In the sundered worlds, many considered such a position to be reserved only for the gods. In truth it was more janitorial, but there was respect that was carried with it. "That is to say, the matter of souls. I have rather keen soulsight. If you wish for a small example, yours is blindingly bright, so I am to assume you have a very strong affinity for the light." Vauthry, but not... Vauthry.
Oh yes, the potential was there.
"Now do you see why I do so well as a matchmaker, Your Majesty? My sight allows me to quite literally find your soul mate." Soul mates, existed, somewhat. Normally it had been Amaurotines who had pledged themselves to each other, and the phenomenon was what happened when the sundered fragments of those two souls came across one another throughout the ages. But the concept still existed; souls were shaped by their nature and experiences, it was simply a matter of finding two that meshed together very well.
The drain stopped, at least for a moment, as the sword landed right between Hades's eyes and for Hades, time slowed for a moment. And yet, Ardyn would pick up no fear, nothing of the sorts. In fact, if his sight in the dark was good enough, he'd probably catch an attempt at an eyeroll before the blade finished rocketing through, effectively obliterating Hades's skull. Amaurotine completely flopped over onto his back, dead as dead could be. However, despite dying, there was only one thought in his mind; Oh, bother. He thought as his spirit left his body. He'd been hoping to save that card for later, but well, at least Ardyn would get that satisfaction. Instead, there was another small burst of darkness as Hades appeared a few feet away. "Oh, to be stifled by vessels of flesh..." He sighed.
Still, must have been weird. He was right there, and yet you still had the corpse lying a bit away.
He shrugged a little with that smirk. "Very well, my beast with poor fashion, I hate to break it to you, but I'm immortal. Until I'm not." Hint hint, Ardyn, hintedy hint hint. "You'd best have a plan. It took the raw power of an entire star to slay me the first time, and that is slipping away." Boy, wouldn't it be convenient to have the power of an entire star? And bit by bit, Hades began to conjure the blades behind and above him as they began to form in the sky. Bad Faith was always so convenient when you were just going to carpet bomb something, and well, he was pretty sure this monster could take it. Probably. But, well, a thought occurred to him. "You know, I don't think I ever asked your name. Do you even have one? Can you even remember?" It was an honest question, but for someone as attuned to the darkness as he, Hades had no doubt that this man would feel every blade imbue with power.
Shadowflare, a basic spell of destruction for the Ascians. With it, he could take carpet bombing to a whole new level. He didn't fire, yet. No point. But the threat might do well. But, well, there was still the matter of the draining. Namely, Hades switched targets; the man had opened himself up so much, there was no need to saw and sunder away. Instead, he simply pulled the darkness that Ardyn was so readily releasing, turning what was a trickle into a flood. The scourge flowed through him, and he saw now how a lesser being might be overcome. But for Hades, it was a simple matter to contain and control. If not for his natural affinity for the dark, then for the innate strength of his soul.
Post by Emet-Selch on Jul 31, 2020 19:51:30 GMT -6
[googlefont="Comfortaa"]
♡
@somnus
Travesty. That word alone told Hades all the world. See, in such an event, the loss of an entire family, words played such a pivotal role in interpretation. Even with their brother as the perpetrator, travesty was not the word Hades would have used. Tragedy, travesty, two similar sounding words, yet the usage of one or the other spoke all the world of the speaker's compassion. So he was dealing with that kind of lord then, was he? One who could watch his family perish and simply write it off. But of course, that was something to work with. Men like Somnus enjoyed flattery and justification, excuses for their action. A way to humanize themselves while making themselves seem superior in one aspect or another. But he continued to write down what Somnus told him, the following words just confirming more of it. Driven, a way to soften the blow that the word ambitious would bring to mind, and yet that was what it was.
Perhaps Somnus was right, but Hades knew enough that this "older brother" was likely the true heir, if things worked the same as they usually did. Then, ambition took hold and... well, he only truly wondered whether or not Somnus believed his own version. Still, he'd exposed enough heartstrings that Hades knew where to pull. "An understandable reaction, Your Majesty. Duty demands much of those who swear by her. Bitterness is easier to swallow than sorrow, as bitterness can grant strength. For when does a Founder King have time to grieve and mourn for all those he has left behind? He cannot, for it falls to him to lead those who walk after, and if he looks back, then he, and all those that follow, are lost. He must accept, bury his heart, and persevere. Such is his sacrifice."
Yes, Somnus wasn't an ambitious git who wanted the throne, he was merely a poor soul, forced into the role of savior by cruel Fate. What had happened with his family was merely a tragedy, and Somnus only acted out of duty, truly if it could have been any other way, Somnus would have done so! Surely that was the case, right? What Somnus had to do was not ambition in action, it was a valiant sacrifice! Pfah. Still, this was enlightening; the way he spoke of later generations, he was pulled from another time, speaking as if he was not a witness, which likely meant he wasn't immortal. But his brother, well, that was a fascinating topic. "Is your brother here in this world?" He asked plainly. it was more of a matter of curiosity, but really, he supposed it could be argued that there was some manner of public safety to it.
Well, that was quite the reaction, wasn't it? Of course, it likely would have been rather violent, but to simply say to hell with it and go full ham. Well, mostly people had the good graces to build it up, Rising Action and all that. He was heading straight into the climax! Though one could take it as a compliment. If nothing else, it meant that this lad wasn't messing around and considered Hades to be an actual threat. That was nice! What wasn't nice was that twisted, mutated sword headed right for him. Oh he could get diced up, die, and reappear. But... that was a trump card best saved for a better moment, don't you think?
So up the barrier went as the Mutated Rakshasa Blade slammed into it. He had to give the man credit, he could very easily feel it straining under the pressure of his blows. Alisaie at her best could do nothing, and Thancred could push, but this was, well this was different. He could only stare at Ardyn for a moment, what a wretched beast he'd become. In truth, perhaps this was more an act of mercy than anything. Such a rabid beast utterly eclipsed and devoured by his own pettiness and hatred. A long finger traced down Hades's face as the barrier strained, a shining red glyph formed over his features. If this man wished to unleash his full potential, he could understand that, at least.
Of course, despite the man's appearance, it'd been a simple slash and slice. Shall he answer with a most simple spell, then? "O' Mournful Voice of Creation! Weep for your wayward son!" The aether gathered in front of him for but a moment before the End of Days came straight for Ardyn before Hades vanished, reappearing only a few feet away. A wave of pure energy that splintered even rock, scarring the land and leaving colors of black and bright orange in its wake. And yet at the same time a plan was brewing; such a radical transformation gave him an idea, and so he continued to pull and rip at those seams that made up the man's crude additions. He just needed to push, push, push...
Oh, of course. The others had been showing up one by one, he supposed that it was only a matter of time. He'd first picked up on Alexander and his bride. And his chocobo. Really, the fact that only his chocobo made it here was rather surprising. Then it had been Cassandra. Then others related to their world began to appear. In truth, he should have expected her to arrive sooner or later. Admittedly, there was that temptation. His appearance flickered for a moment, to a tall Elezen wearing red, blonde hair, blue eyes. He wondered if it would actually work on Seyka, unlike Cassandra. Seyka helped blow a hole in his chest and kill him. Surely a little jump scare wouldn't have been too much to ask for as some manner of recompense, right?
With his hands folded in front of him as he sat on a leg, legs dangling over the sigh, Hades contemplated his options. However, before long, he had made up his mind. There was a long sigh as he watched the greenette, before the glamour fell, and returned to his simple guise as Solus. May as well greet the newcomer, yes? Especially when she was specifically asking for him to reveal himself. Yes, the epic joke would have failed. Boo. There's a flash of darkness, and just like that, he's gone. Well, at least for a moment. It doesn't take long, more like an instant than anything, before Solus zos Galvus reappears in front of Seyka, very clearly unphased by the tiny white mage's potent magical talent. In fact, he seems rather bored.
His feet touch the ground as he raises up a hand. He already knows where this is going. He went through this song and dance with Cassandra as well, after all. "I'm alive. You're in a world called Zephon, different from the Source and Shards. Alexander, Lycoris, and Cassandra are already here. No, I haven't seen any sign of your husband. Have I missed anything?" He probably has. She's notoriously curious and inquisitive. So there's probably something.
Well, at least this one was willing to word fight with him. It was something new, at least. Most others simply backed down the moment he started spitting some nice fire. "Oh? You are saying then that the only type of gaze a man my age can hold for a young woman is a lustful one? Excellent job generalizing an entire age group. A good effort, but relies too much on assumption." Ah, but even he paled in comparison to Lahabrea. Or, at least, Lahabrea as he used to be. Amaurot's finest Orator. At times he wondered if Zodiark could temper how much tempering He gave. Hades had managed to escape with his personality relatively intact, but whatever had happened to Lahabrea over the years, the man had clearly degenerated. A man once known as the Speaker lost that title to the Warrior. How tragic. And funny. But mostly tragic.
Her words are not something he expects, and it surprises him ever so slightly. Not enough to really let the brief moment of surprise show on his features. His hand instinctively reaches up to gingerly touch where the wound should have been. The words he said to Alexander that moment are called to his head; Remember us. A simple plea, really, and one that he himself had taken care to follow. He would remember, he would always remember. He would not allow the loss of his people to be forgotten, even if he tried to let go of the anguish which he could yet feel in his breast. Letting go was easier said than done.
Still, she describes her ability, and it's rather similar to his. Of course, hers sounds more limited if he is hearing right. "Animancer." He corrects. It was a profession in Amaurot, true, and he was one of the best, even if Hythlodaeus had the better sight. "The term you are looking for, is Animancer." Working with souls, or being able to at least perceive them, was one of the more basic levels of such.
The green hair, the bubbly nature, the small stature, the resemblance was uncanny. There were some differences, and ultimately the soul tipped him off, but still, it was a little eerie. The observations were interesting, to say the least. No, he'd never really considered his height all that much. After all, physical features had ultimately been meaningless in Amaurot, so her guess about his lack of care for physical appearances was accurate. Besides, if he absolutely had to use the importance the fragmented beings who came after put on height, he was also thirty feet tall. But her advice was sound, he had to admit, as he eyed the outfit. Goodness, he really couldn't help but wonder if that buffoon had managed to find his way to Zephon.
But a rose? That was a new one. "A swimmer's build, you say." He looks at her; swimming was never really his forte. He could do it to survive, but it was something that he'd really rather not have to do; too much work. He perks his brows before shrugging. "Oh, very well. Have it your way." Not like he really has much else to do besides that, and it was what he came for to begin with, so, on it went. It takes a few minutes, and some privacy, but on it goes.
He did take some of the advice, the sleeves in particular are rolled down. But he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. It was something that definitely emphasized his upper body, but he wasn't a muscular man. At least not in this body. Instead, he looked at Terra with an expression that couldn't quite decide whether it was boredom or "well"?
