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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Post by Cloud Strife on Sept 17, 2024 15:14:46 GMT -6
first middle last
"Put a quote here."
I. BASICS
FULL NAME:: NICKNAMES:: GENDER:: AGE:: ORIENTATION:: GAME OF ORIGIN:: ALIGNMENT:: (heroic, villainous, or neutral) EQUIPMENT:: (weapons, materia, magicite, summon, ect)
HEIGHT:: HAIR/EYES/SKIN:: DISTINGUISHING MARKS::
II. PERSONA
Three paragraphs minimum for personality.
III. BACKGROUND
One to two paragraphs to describe their occupation and/or fighting style.
IV. HISTORY
Five paragraphs minimum for history.
V. AUTHOR
PLAYER ALIAS:: OTHER CHARACTERS:: ROLE-PLAYING EXPERIENCE:: HOW YOU FOUND US:: NOTES FOR CONSIDERATION:: ROLE-PLAY SAMPLE:: Must be written for the character you are currently applying for. Three paragraph minimum. Third person please.
Post by Cloud Strife on Sept 17, 2024 10:38:05 GMT -6
[attr="class","shinigami"]
Blossoms of Reunion
Cloud stood there, unmoving, as Aerith’s tears fell, her smile radiant even through the emotion that overwhelmed her. Her hands, warm and real, clasped within his. Grounding him in a reality that still felt like a dream — or a cruel trick. Yet, it wasn’t. She was here .. the weight of the flower proving that fact. Even if it weighed next to nothing physically. Aerith’s voice broke through his swirling thoughts. Her words filled with joy, though the tears slipping down her cheeks betrayed the bittersweet undercurrent.
Her words echoed in his mind — a second chance. But what did that even mean? They were both standing here, alive in a world that wasn’t their own, a world where the past and the future seemed tangled in ways he couldn’t begin to understand. Cloud’s jaw clenched as the memory of her death — the memory that haunted him more than any battle — surfaced again. The way she had fallen, the way he had been too late and too powerless to stop it.
When Aerith asked her question, it hit him like a wave. Did we win? It was such an innocent, hopeful question, but the answer wasn’t simple. Cloud lowered his gaze, his eyes distant as if searching for something in the past that he could bring into words.
"We won," he finally said, his voice quiet, almost as if he were trying to convince himself. "But .. a lot happened after. The fight didn’t end when you .. when you were gone." His voice faltered for a moment, the weight of the unspoken words hanging between them. He didn’t need to recount everything, not now. The weight of their victory had come with too heavy of a loss, too many moments where he’d almost given in to the darkness pulling at his mind.
He let out a slow breath. His grip on the flower loosening slightly as he turned his gaze back to Aerith. "I tried to keep going, to finish what you started. You didn’t die for nothing."
Post by Cloud Strife on Sept 17, 2024 9:34:38 GMT -6
[attr="class","shinigami"]
Like Seeing a Ghost
That incident .. Nibelheim. The memory of it was etched into Cloud’s mind as if it had happened only yesterday, yet the way he recalled it was a tangled mess. His own memories twisted and blurred with Zack’s. Unbeknownst to Cloud even. The source of these fractured memories wasn’t his alone to bear. He had no clue that some of what he carried belonged to Zack, another mystery lurking in the shadows of his past. Perhaps, though, that was a puzzle for another day.
Cloud lowered himself into the chair opposite Oren, the weight of the Buster Sword beside him seeming insignificant as he set it down with ease. He was tired. Tired of the same old cycle, the constant uncertainty that plagued his memories. Each encounter with his past felt like he was grasping at fragments of a broken mirror, never sure which pieces were his own and which belonged to someone else. He wanted to move past it, to focus on forging new memories, ones he could claim with certainty. But even that felt like a struggle some days. But still .. he tried. He met Oren’s gaze, his expression less guarded than usual. Maybe it was the exhaustion of constantly playing the part of the soldier with the fractured past or maybe it was something about Oren himself—something faintly familiar that Cloud couldn’t quite place. He was used to keeping people at arm’s length. Especially those associated with SOLDIER, but this wasn’t Midgar. The rules were different here, and maybe .. just maybe, he could afford to drop his defenses — if only a little.
“A lot of my memories .. are a mess,” Cloud admitted, his voice steady but laced with the weight of that ongoing struggle. “There are pieces missing, things that don’t line up. It’s like some of them don’t even belong to me.”
He looked down for a moment, his gloved fingers tracing the edge of the table as he gathered his thoughts. “But your name. Oren — there’s something familiar about it. I can’t explain it, but maybe that means something.” Cloud wasn’t one to openly express his emotions, nor was he particularly skilled at being personable. Aerith, Tifa, and the others had always been far better at reaching out to people. But here, Cloud was trying in his own way. There was something in Oren’s presence, a warmth or maybe just a recognition buried deep that made him feel like there was some history, even if it was one he couldn’t fully recall.
Post by Cloud Strife on Sept 14, 2024 16:36:51 GMT -6
[attr="class","shinigami"]
Into the Dragon’s Den
Cloud stood with his arms crossed over his chest as his sharp gaze followed the recruits as they filed out battered but visibly united. There was something about their camaraderie — rough yet undeniably solid — that struck him. He wouldn’t admit it outright, but it was a refreshing sight compared to what he was used to in his own life. Here, at least there was a sense of purpose among them like a shared goal.
When Caius turned to him and posed the question, Cloud’s mako - infused eyes met his. There was a moment of silence before he spoke, his voice low and steady.
"Call me Cloud. I’ve heard talk of this guild while I was out doing my own jobs around Torensten and thought I’d check the place out."
His words were as simple as always, but there was more behind them. Truth was, Cloud was still trying to make sense of this strange world he’d found himself in. He wasn’t here just to satisfy curiosity, he was looking for answers. Figuring out how he had even come to be in this world was at the forefront of his mind, though he knew that wouldn't be solved in a day.
Maybe having a guild like the Dragonblades at his back wouldn’t be so bad. It wasn’t his style to depend on others, but this place felt different, and he couldn’t ignore that. The thought of working with others toward a common goal instead of wandering aimlessly from job to job was something he was starting to consider. Unbeknownst to Cloud, Caius had his own origins tied to another universe as well. Maybe, in time, their paths would be revealed to one another. But for now, Cloud remained as guarded as usual .. though the slight softening of his stance showed he was open to whatever.
Post by Cloud Strife on Sept 10, 2024 0:09:06 GMT -6
[attr="class","shinigami"]
The Truffle Shuffle
The scent of rain lingered in the air, a soothing balm that always calmed Cloud's restless spirit. It reminded him of days long past in Nibelheim, where he'd sit atop the old water tower, watching the world blur beneath the curtain of falling droplets. His mother would often scold him for coming home drenched, but those were moments he cherished. Fragments of a more simpler time now lost to the currents of fate.
Sheltering beneath a sprawling tree, Cloud found refuge from the rain. The canopy of leaves and intertwined branches above provided a patchwork shield, allowing only the occasional stray droplet to reach him. He leaned against the sturdy trunk, the rough bark pressing into his back. His eyelids had grown heavy, lulled by the rhythmic patter of rain and the distant sounds of the world around him. For a moment, it felt as though the weight of his past was lifted, just long enough to let him drift into a light, restless sleep.
Time slipped away unnoticed, the rain gradually easing into silence. When Cloud finally stirred, blinking groggily as the rain had passed, leaving the air thick with the earthy smell of damp soil and fresh greenery. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake off the drowsiness when a sudden jarring sound shattered the tranquility — the angry sound of a boar and the frantic shouts of a nearby farmer.
Cloud snapped upright, immediately on high alert. The serene world he had fallen asleep in was now replaced by chaos. In the distance, a massive boar was tearing through a pumpkin patch, its tusks glinting under the faint light of the clearing skies. The beast had been enraged, destroying everything in its path as the farmer desperately tried to fend it off. Cloud knew all too well what would come next. In a heartbeat, Cloud was on his feet, dashing across the field with remarkable speed. His boots hit the now - softened earth as he closed the distance. The boar, sensing the farmer’s panic prepared to charge, but Cloud moved faster. Before the beast could barrel forward, Cloud leapt into action whilst drawing his sword with practiced precision.
With a swift deliberate strike, his blade sliced through one of the boar’s tusks, sending the severed ivory spinning across the ground. The boar reeled, its fury growing, but Cloud remained calm, positioning himself between the animal and the farmer.
"Get back inside." Cloud ordered, his voice firm but calm. The farmer, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and relief, scrambled to obey. As the man retreated, Cloud tightened his grip on the Buster Sword. Eyes narrowing at the still - raging boar.
The boar snorted angrily, pawing the ground as if readying for another charge. Cloud stood firm. The weight of his sword comforting in his hands.
Post by Cloud Strife on Sept 1, 2024 16:03:18 GMT -6
[attr="class","shinigami"]
Like Seeing a Ghost
As Cloud stared at Oren, a flicker of confusion crossed his features. a subtle tightening around his eyes that betrayed his inner thoughtss. Oren spoke to him with a familiarity that Cloud struggled to reciprocate with him, each word pulling at the frayed edges of his fragmented memory. The man before him seemed to know him somewhat at least, speaking as if they shared a somewhat common history, yet for Cloud, those memories were distant .. hidden in the fog that clouded his mind.
It almost made him feel guilty — the years of trauma, the experiments, and the countless battles had left his memory a maze of fog and shadows, where familiar faces often lurked just out of reach. He wanted to remember, but it was like trying to grasp smoke. Intangible and elusive.
He could sense Oren’s earnestness, the genuine familiarity in his tone, but Cloud’s own mind refused to cooperate. Every time he tried to push through the haze to force the memories to the surface, it was as if a wall of static slammed into his consciousness. A blaring, relentless white noise that sent a sharp jolt of pain through his skull, threatening to split his mind in two. It was a sensation he had grown all too familiar with as a cruel reminder of the past that he could never fully escape.
The pain was like an electric current, sharp and sudden, searing through his thoughts and leaving a lingering ache in its wake. Yet, Cloud had grown accustomed to it by now. A dull throb that he had learned to endure. The shock of pain was nothing new as it barely registered as he flinched, the reaction so slight that most wouldn’t even notice. It was just another burden he carried, one more scar etched into his psyche.
But the struggle to remember was there, gnawing at him even as the pain receded. He forced himself to stay in the moment, to focus on the here and now, where Oren sat before him. Even if the past was a blur, Cloud owed him his attention — owed it to whatever bond they once shared, even if he couldn’t fully recall it. If there evn was one at least.
Cloud’s gaze softened slightly, a rare moment of vulnerability seeping through his usual stoic exterior. “Sorry,” he finally managed, his voice low and tinged with regret. “My memories… they’re not what they used to be. Let's just say they're a little foggy.”
He wished he could say more, explain the confusion that plagued him, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could offer was his presence, his willingness to listen, and perhaps, in time, some part of the past would return to him. For now, he would take things one step at a time. Starting with Oren and the here and now.
Post by Cloud Strife on Aug 2, 2024 21:00:29 GMT -6
[attr="class","shinigami"]
Blossoms of Reunion
A part of him instinctively wanted to reach for his sword, the old reflex kicking in at the thought that this might be another cruel trick from Sephiroth. How could it not be though? But Sephiroth hadn’t been seen since Cloud arrived in this world — or so his experience had led him to believe. Still he had learned to never say never. Cloud blinked, his usually sharp, vigilant eyes now wide with disbelief. His hands, instead of grasping his weapon, found themselves clasping Aerith’s, as if needing to confirm her existence through touch. The warmth of her skin, the softness of her fingers .. it all felt too real to be a mere illusion.
“It’s you…” he murmured, his voice a mixture of awe and confusion. “But you died… You died right in front of me.”
His words were heavy with the memory of that heartbreaking moment. The sight of her life slipping away while he was powerless to stop it. Now, standing before him, she seemed as vibrant and alive as ever, a opposite to the grief and guilt he had carried since her death.
Cloud’s grip on Aerith’s hands tightened slightly as if fearing she might disappear if he let go. The world around them seemed to blur and even almost coming to a stop, the bustling city fading into the background, leaving only the two of them in this surreal reunion. His heart pounded in his chest. A chaotic mix of relief, confusion, and a flicker of hope he hadn’t dared to feel in a long time.
“How…?” he managed to ask, his voice barely more than a whisper. The question hung in the air, filled with the weight of all the pain and longing that had built up over time.
For a moment he allowed himself to believe in the impossible. to hope that perhaps, in this strange new world, miracles could happen. Aerith’s presence was a beacon of light in the darkness that had surrounded him for so long, a reminder of the goodness and beauty that still existed despite the battles and losses. He gazed into her eyes, seeking answers, but also finding solace in the familiar kindness that had always been her hallmark. This unexpected reunion, this chance to see her again, was a gift he never thought he’d receive. And for now he held onto it, refusing to let go.
Post by Cloud Strife on Jul 3, 2024 12:38:55 GMT -6
[attr="class","shinigami"]
Into the Dragon’s Den
Ah! Yeah. The venue indeed wasn’t imposing from an outside view, a modest facade belying its significance. For Cloud, who still grappled with the notion of finding strength within a group, stepping through those doors took a measure of courage. Solace in the company of others was not something he sought easily or often. The banner of the Dragonblades fluttered gently in the breeze. It was a symbol of camaraderie that Cloud had yet to fully embrace.
As he made his way into the hideout, the warmth of the hearth and the crackling fire muted the cold steel he carried within. The interior was cozy almost homely. One could almost forget the turbulent life of a mercenary. The aroma of hearty stew mingled with the scent of burning wood, creating an inviting atmosphere that seemed at odds with his solitary nature. A young woman of eastern descent greeted him, her smile a gentle balm to his unease.
“I’m here to join,” he stated simply, his words as straightforward as his intentions. Her welcoming demeanor eased his tension slightly, and after a brief discussion about policies and formalities, she guided him to Caius, the group’s leader, who was diligently training new recruits in the courtyard.
Cloud watched with a discerning eye as the recruits stumbled and faltered, their efforts clumsy and uncoordinated. It was a poor display for someone considering joining their ranks, but yet it didn’t deter him. He knew all too well that mastery required time and practice. He had once been a recruit himself. Alittle fledgling warrior striving to prove his worth. In truth many would dismiss him as never having been a true SOLDIER, if they knew his full story that is. But that was a tale for another time.
His mako - infused eyes followed Caius’s movements noting the precision and control with which he dispatched the recruits’ attempts. Caius moved with a grace that belied his strength, each motion calculated and efficient. Despite the recruits’ fumbling, Caius’s prowess was evident, a beacon of strength and discipline. Cloud couldn’t help but imagine himself in their place, but instead of fumbling they had, he'd wager he'd pose a challenge. Surely, Caius would recognize a formidable fighter when he saw one.
The sounds of clashing blades and Caius’s authoritative commands filled the courtyard, blending with the ambient noise of the tavern. The recruits, though lacking coordination, showed potential, and under Caius’s tutelage, they would undoubtedly improve. Cloud’s mind wandered briefly to his own training, the grueling sessions that had shaped him into the warrior he was today. He had faced countless adversaries both external and internal and each battle had left its mark on him.
For now though, Cloud kept his introduction brief. He approached Caius, his presence commanding attention even without words. Standing there, with the weight of his history and the promise of his future, he felt a strange mix of apprehension and anticipation. In his typically succinct manner he offered a simple “Hey.” His voice was steady, carrying the weight of unspoken resolve and a willingness to prove himself once again.
Cloud knew one thing for sure .. he was ready to face it head - on, with or without the support of the Dragonblades.
Post by Cloud Strife on Jun 13, 2024 8:29:17 GMT -6
[attr="class","shinigami"]
like seeing a ghost
Cloud sat quietly at a table in the dim corner of the tavern, the flickering candlelight casting shifting shadows across his brooding features. The low murmur of conversations and the clinking of mugs created a symphony of background noise, a soundtrack to the solitude he sought. His sharp, mako - infused eyes roamed the room with a detached vigilance, observing without truly seeing. He preferred the comfort of anonymity, blending into the shadows like a wraith.
Yet, the persistent sensation of being watched gnawed at him, unsettling the fragile peace he clung to. His gaze lifted, pinpointing the source of his unease. Oren, a man whose face stirred vague memories of the SOLDIER program, was staring intently. The recognition brought a cascade of emotions, memories of dreams unfulfilled and paths untaken. Cloud had never made it into SOLDIER, but he could still recognize the telltale signs in others. The disciplined posture, the haunted eyes — marks of a shared, if not fully understood, experience.
The intensity of Oren’s gaze was enough to push Cloud past his usual restraint. With a quiet sigh, he rose from his seat, each movement deliberate and purposeful. His boots echoed softly on the wooden floor, the crowd parting instinctively as he made his way across the room. The tension in the air was palpable, a silent testament to the storm brewing within him. Patrons whispered among themselves, casting curious glances at the unfolding scene. Even in a place where brawls were not uncommon, Cloud’s presence demanded attention.
He stopped in front of Oren’s table, his presence casting a long shadow over the seated man. The tavern’s warm glow flickered over Cloud’s stern face, highlighting the contours of his determined expression. Cloud’s eyes, glowing faintly with the eerie light of mako, locked onto Oren’s with an unyielding intensity. The noise around them seemed to fade, leaving a bubble of tense silence.
“What’s your problem?” His voice was low, a growl that rumbled with barely restrained irritation. The words were simple, but the weight behind them was undeniable. There was no mistaking the challenge in his tone, the demand for an explanation.
The memories of his time trying to get into SOLDIER resurfaced, mingling with the present tension.
The tavern’s atmosphere felt heavier with each passing second. Cloud’s presence seemed to press down on those around him, a silent testament to his strength and the battles he’d endured. The subtle shift of patrons moving further away didn’t escape his notice, but he kept his focus on Oren. Whatever this was about, he was ready to face it head-on, just as he always had.
Or it could genuinely be a harmless stare and Cloud is just being an unintentional douchebag.
Post by Cloud Strife on Jun 6, 2024 8:23:57 GMT -6
[attr="class","shinigami"]
Into the dragon’s den
Ever since Cloud found himself in the unfamiliar realm of Zephon, he’d been catching whispers .. more like continuous comments from peeps around .. about a group known as the Dragonblades. Rumor had it they were a diverse band of mercenaries who banded together to navigate the treacherous landscape and seize opportunities as they arose or so he heard. Normally, Cloud wasn’t one to be fond of groups. His past experiences had left him guarded and self-reliant due to Shinra, but also hopeful whenever he thought of AVALANCHE. But in this strange world, the realities of survival loomed large. Maintaining his gear alone was a costly endeavor, and without a steady stream of jobs, his resources were dwindling.
The city of Torensten was a bustling hub. The streets were alive with a variety of people and creatures, each with their own stories and struggles. Cloud maneuvered through the crowded avenues, his sharp mako tainted eyes scanning for the Dragonblades’ headquarters. The building eventually came into view, an imposing structure that stood out even among the grandeur of Torensten. It was a place that radiated strength and camaraderie, qualities Cloud both admired and mistrusted.
As he approached the headquarters, Cloud couldn’t help but feel a twinge of unease. He hadn’t been invited. In fact, he didn’t even know if the Dragonblades accepted outsiders so readily. But the alternative was struggling alone in an unfamiliar world which seemed far less appealing. He took a moment to adjust the strap of his massive sword, a comforting weight on his back, and steeled himself for whatever lay beyond the threshold.