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
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Post by Prompto Argentum on Sept 11, 2020 6:23:40 GMT -6
[attr="class","oneword1"]
[attr="class","fromyou1"]@reno
I love this dumbass so much it hurts
I'm gonna keep on keeping on the only way I know how
Prompto didn’t know how long he laid there, flat on his back and shivering with a hand over his eye. Maybe five minutes. Maybe an hour. He listened to the howl of the wind through the mountain pass, feeling more sick with each passing second. Noct. Gladio. Iggy. Where were they? And how was he…?
An engine. A car engine. Prompto’s eyes shot open and he sat up in time to see it -- a slick silver convertible barrelling down the road. For a moment, he was too stunned to move, simply watching the thing shoot past him like a bullet. Then his thoughts kicked back into gear, and he raised a hand. ”Hey!”
It was weak. Honestly, Prompto would have been surprised if the driver had even heard him over the rush of wind and the engine’s mechanical purr. Still, it came to a stop not far down the road, and Prompto’s breath caught. Another second and it swerved into reverse. It stopped in front of him, and for a moment, Prompto could only stare at it stupidly. Then the driver came a begrudging wave, and it all clicked into place.
Oh his sweet vehicular savior!
”Seriously?” Prompto scrambled to his feet, laughing. ”Ah man! I owe you one! You’re the best! Seriously!” He jogged towards the car, placed a hand on the top of the door, and leapt over the side, settling into the passenger’s seat. ”I can’t tell you how many cars just kept going on! It’s a cold, cruel world.”
His savior wore a suit. That was the first thing that struck him as he finally looked the driver over. He wore a clean black suit with the collared shirt only buttoned halfway down. His red hair burst out into styled spikes not so different from Prompto’s own (he knew the struggle of morning hair gel!) and then into a long ponytail down his back. A pair of goggles were pushed up onto his forehead. Maybe for driving? But then why wasn’t he using them?
Didn’t matter. Didn’t care.
”So uh.” Prompto tapped on his thigh, bouncing it a few times before he settled back, hands folded behind his head. ”Where are we going?”
Post by Prompto Argentum on Aug 17, 2020 14:12:56 GMT -6
[attr="class","oneword1"]
[attr="class","fromyou1"]@tag
Enter, my ray of sunshine
I'm gonna keep on keeping on the only way I know how
“Hey! Heeeeeey!”
Prompto ran, tripping over his own feet as he sprinted beside a speeding bus with the windows tinted. He pumped his arms. He breathed in short bursts -- in and out like a steam train. He pressed himself forward, waving his arm wildly over his head, yelling, ”Wait! Wait for me!”
He thought he might have seen a shadowy face behind the window motion towards him. Or maybe it was just a glint of the light because the next second his ankle caught on an uneven weed patch and he went flying face first into the dirt. He yelped, throwing his hands out to catch himself as he rolled, tumbling head over heel as the skin scraped off his elbows and he landed with a sharp, ”Oof!”
When he looked up, he was just a heap on the ground, and the bus was speeding out of view.
”Ah man…” Prompto leaned his head into his hand, wincing as he rubbed at his hair. ”Guess they’re not picking up today.”
Whatever that meant.
It had been hours since he’d first woken up here in the middle of nowhere. And not just any nowhere either -- it was a kind of nowhere without any pit stops or diners or signs he could understand. It wasn’t his nowhere with its vast tracks of plains and forests and cracked dirt. Not his endless skies and open, Lucian roads. This was a place he’d never been before, and after all he’d been through, that was saying a lot.
”Okay. Okay, Prompto. Gotta think.” He looked around him from the road to the cliffs to the...more cliffs. It was a great rocky wasteland not too different from the Leide region except for the weather. Cold gusts of air blew across the rocky plateau, and he couldn’t help but shiver as he grabbed his arms tight. ”Don’t know where we are. Don’t know where we’re going.” He looked towards one empty horizon and then towards the other before he groaned, falling back flat into the dirt.
”Let’s face it. We’re totally lost.”
The dust tumbled over him in thick, dry clouds. Above him, the sky was an overcast gray. Dull, dreary, depressed. Perfect for him, except…
Except there shouldn’t have been any light at all.
That’s the world he’d left behind. The one during that long, long night in Niflheim. He could still see that ghostly green sky. It had felt like he’d been a fish, swimming deep in cold water. He’d wondered if that’s what they’d felt like, looking all that way up into the sun. He’d wished that someone would throw him a line and maybe, just maybe, he’d be drawn back to open air.
They hadn’t found Noctis. Not after nights and nights of searching. There were only daemons in that streets of Graelia now, and the city never slept. After what had felt like ages, Ignis had suggested they return to Lucis: ’They’ll need us now more than ever.’
Which meant leaving Noct. Leaving everything they’d fought for. And now…
”Just like you, huh? Ducking out when the going gets tough?” Prompto threw his hand over his eyes, laughing weakly to himself. It seemed like just a few days ago, he’d nearly taken a poker to the back of that hand. Had it been days? He didn’t know anymore.
Post by Prompto Argentum on Aug 17, 2020 7:33:15 GMT -6
Prompto Argentum
"I can't choose where I came from, but I can choose where I'm going."
I. BASICS
FULL NAME:: Prompto Argentum NICKNAMES:: GENDER:: Male AGE:: 20 ORIENTATION:: Bisexual GAME OF ORIGIN:: Final Fantasy XV ALIGNMENT:: Harmonious EQUIPMENT:: Cocytus (gun w/ ice), autocrossbow
HEIGHT:: 5'8" HAIR/EYES/SKIN:: Blonde, blue, pale DISTINGUISHING MARKS:: Prompto isn't going to win any arm wrestling competitions anytime soon. He's small, but quick and hard to get a hold of with his tight t-shirt and skinny jeans. His hair is consistently spiked with gel, and his freckles brighten his smile. He has a bar code tattoo that he keeps hidden on the back of his left wrist.
II. PERSONA
Prompto is extroverted, talkative, and always quick for a bad joke -- or even more often, a pun. He gives off a kind of adorkable aura that will light up a room even as its occupants groan. In that way, Prompto is almost shameless in the unending barrage of words that flood from his mouth at any given time of day. Whether this is an observation, an idea, or just bemoaning a long walk, Prompto has no filter. Even mortal peril can't slow the unstoppable engine of Prompto's mouth. In fact, his nerves just add more fuel to the fire.
All of this, however, is nothing more than a deep rooted act. In truth, Prompto is deeply insecure about his worth, his friends, and his own likability. His jokester persona is a cry for attention when he feels that the real him isn't worthy of it. As Noctis' best friend, he often feels outclassed by someone so royal, important, and cool. So he'll keep playing the clown for as long as they'll let him, joking, groaning, and generally acting as Noctis' bro. His best bro. There's nothing else he'd rather be.
That's why he'll follow his friends wherever the path might lead. Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio are the only people who've ever really cared about him, and he'd do anything if it meant he could stay by their side. In the end, Prompto doesn't really care much for his own life. He'd give it up in an instant if it meant he never had to lose the only people think his life really matters.
III. HISTORY
Prompto knew exactly three things about where he came from. One, he'd been adopted. Two, no one ever wanted to talk about it, and three, it had given him a bar code tattoo. Prompto hadn't known what that had meant growing up -- just that he was constantly told to cover it. Only when he was older did it start to give him some seriously bad vibes. Like sci-fi vibes. Like monster vibes.
He decided then and there that whatever it was could stay in the past. He was Lucian. He was human. And he wouldn't think about it a second longer -- no matter how often he found himself staring at it in the moonlight.
In the meantime, he had his house in Insomnia. He had his two adoptive parents though they were never really around. Prompto often imagined what it would be like to have parents who tucked him in at night. How would it feel to have someone cook dinner for him or help him with his homework or read him bedtime stories like they did on TV? His parents never did any of that, and though they'd say otherwise, he knew they didn't really love him. It was probably because he wasn't their real son. Not that he blamed them or anything. Prompto knew he wasn't really worth the effort.
The rest of the world seemed to agree. He didn't have many friends at school. He spent his days in the back of class, snapping pictures of the world he wished he could be apart of. The other kids made fun of him for his weight, for his freckles, for his glasses. He hated all of it, but he hated himself more. Why couldn't he be more like them -- athletic and confident and cool? Every day, he walked home from school and grabbed the snacks in the fridge, wishing he could be anyone but himself.
And then he met Noctis.
As soon as he saw him, it was like a light turned on inside him. There Prompto was, twelve years old, ugly, awkward, and there was Noctis -- the epitome of cool. Prompto couldn't stop thinking about him with his cool black clothes and his distant eyes. Then Prompto remembered how he'd made a fool of himself, and he wanted to dig a hole and die in it. Someone like Noctis couldn't care about someone like him. Not clumsy, gross Prompto -- a loser. There was no hope for him and there never would be.
Unless...
No.
That shame turned into a fire. He would get Noctis' attention. He would be worthy. It didn't matter how long it took. It didn't matter how hard it would be, Prompto was going to make himself into someone that people would like. Someone that Noctis would like.
Oh gods, please let him like me!
For two years, Prompto worked out. He dieted. He practiced his jokes in the mirror and all of his expressions that he thought would look cool. With every haircut, with every new outfit tried on, he'd tilt his head and wonder -- would Noctis like this? Finally, when he was fifteen, Prompto was ready. Or as ready as he'd ever be. He worked himself up, practiced exactly what he'd say, and talked to him.
Turns out, Noctis was a pretty chill dude. Too chill. Just the chillest. Once again, Prompto was in awe of the prince, but he tried not to show it. Noctis was talking to him. Noctis wanted to hang out. Were they friends? They couldn't have been friends. Could they? Noctis forged his own path, and Prompto was just happy to be behind him.
For once in his life he thought that maybe, just maybe, somebody actually liked him.
He stayed by Noctis from that moment on, befriending his two guards after that. In his dedication, Prompto even joined the Crownsguard so that he never had to leave his side. On the day that they were set to leave Insomnia for Altissia, Prompto didn't really mind. There was nothing for him in the city. Not if it meant he wouldn't see Noctis again.
What was supposed to be their ultimate road trip ended in disaster. Niflheim invaded. Insomnia was conquered. Lucis had fallen, and the four friends were stuck in the middle of nowhere -- pursued by imperial troops wherever they went. Noctis had a plan to collect the royal arms, make his pacts with the astrals, and gain enough power to fend off the empire and save Lucis. Prompto was just happy to come along.
Even that quest was fun in its own way. It felt like an adventure in a blockbuster movie -- or maybe a videogame. But everything changed when they made it to Altissia. Noctis and Lunafreya worked together to subdue Leviathan as the empire attacked. In the end, Noctis was wounded, Lunafreya was dead, and Ignis was blind.
It stopped being fun after that.
It was like the whole world had gone to hell at once. The sky went dark. The world was conquered. Daemons roamed loose and soon even the empire fell. All of that paled in comparison, however, to when Noctis turned on him.
Prompto didn't know what was happening. One second he was babbling about the sky and the next, Noctis had attacked. He tried his best to get away, he really did, but eventually Noctis had him cornered. 'It's all your fault.' Did he really mean that? Even if it had been a trick, it still hurt -- hearing him say that.
And then he fell off a train.
He learned about his past. He learned exactly what he was and where he came from. It had been a while since he'd thought about that little bar code tattoo. For everything he'd ever guessed about it, he couldn't have dreamed up the truth. He was a clone. A clone made in order to serve the Niflheim empire. Was he even human? He wanted it gone -- that terrible tattoo. Aranea stopped him. She was great like that. She always had a way of talking sense.
But then she left, and he was found by someone else. Something else. He blacked out as soon as Ardyn laid his hands on him, or at least, he wishes he did. What happened next, he doesn't like to remember. Not until Noctis came to save him.
They worked together. They fought their way towards the crystal. Noctis ran ahead. They didn't want him to, but he did, racing to find some way to save their home. By the time that Prompto reached him, he was gone, and Ardyn stood in his place. Prompto shot him in the back of the head. It didn't do a thing.
And that was that. How he lost it all. Daemons had overwhelmed Eos. The world was cursed with eternal night. And worst of all, Noctis had vanished. They spent what felt like days searching Gralea for him, but it all came to nothing. In the end, they decided that Lucis needed them more. Prompto curled up at their campsite, throat tight and tears at his eyes.
He woke up to sunlight.
He doesn't know where he is. He doesn't know how he got here. He doesn't know much of anything, really, but since when has that stopped him? No matter the world or the time or the reality, Prompto will find his friends, and he'll never, ever leave their sides.
IV. AUTHOR
PLAYER ALIAS:: Fin OTHER CHARACTERS:: Kuja, Celes, Faris, Sephiroth, Balthier, Cecil ROLE-PLAYING EXPERIENCE:: Hahahaha HOW YOU FOUND US:: HAHAHAHAHA NOTES FOR CONSIDERATION:: Prompto is taken from directly after losing Noctis in Niflheim ROLE-PLAY SAMPLE:: How about no?
