Welcome to The Duality of Man, an original animanga role-play that features numerous supernatural creatures. Unfortunately, these various species have distanced themselves because of the war that occurred thousands of years ago, plaguing some with eyes that only see their dualism. While others meddle themself with their differences, two groups fight, each attempting to eliminate the other in for their definition of worldly peace. These two groups of the Terror Response Syndicate (TRS) and the Assembly of Phantoms (AP). With individuals fighting merely over their differences, it brings uncertainty to the outcome of this war.
We happily accept all role-players as long as they obey the rules and are capable of meeting our word count of 50. This does include those who are unfamiliar with this style of role-playing. The staff of The Duality of Man are willing to happily help those who are new to the role-playing world so they feel comfortable on site. Feel free to message the staff if you need help, they can be found here or in the site Discord and will gladly answer questions alongside calm concerns. If you have any suggestions we would love to hear them; guests may use the support board as a suggestion area as well. Should you decide to join, may I say welcome to the site and we all hope you enjoy your time here.
Yours Truely,
The Staff
season
Summer 2022
Heat has broken through into a glorious summer. The snow has entirely dried through the spring, leaving to the brilliance of the warmer months. Terror activity has risen as people are brought out of their homes, leaving the TRS in a position of consistent work. Each are attempting to maintain victory in the endless struggle for power.
With April, an activity check has arrived for members to do! Please post on the AC and tag all your accounts, including WIPs and OOC accounts. Failure to post on this AC will result in your accounts being marked inactive or deleted. Please note, due to a late start, the due date for this check has been adjusted for one time and one time only.
left alone, trapped in uncertainty. can anyone love me? anybody at all? or am I destined to be alone?
❧
Socializing was significant in human culture, however, Russel could never be certain of his father's insistence. Heart still mortally wounded from the injustices bestowed upon him at the hands of his worst boyfriend, the brunette believed his father was incorrect... Everything else surfaced to the forefront of Russel's mind before any thoughts of socializing and attempting to make friends. Years ago Florence cheated on him, thus, he worried friends would accomplish similar goals should he allow them. He was guarded, merely deciding to adhere to his father's wishes to state he did.
On a day off forced upon him, the forensic roused from his bed in the late hours of the morning. Gradually, the weather was becoming cold as winter warred to conquer the autumn atmosphere as its domain until spring's beloved arrival. Cold temperatures were welcomed, especially since they provided an excuse for Russel to wear his dark-blue turtleneck. The seer moved hastily, tugging on his turtleneck before changing into a pair of black sweats. The outfit was casual, something he enjoyed on colder days where the negative temperatures attempted to seep into clothes.
Moments later, Russel grabbed his phone, car keys and wallet, shoving both into the depths of his pocket. Admittedly, the seer was forced to obey his father's orders. Yesterday, Russel had depleted his coffee supply and unfortunately forgot to purchase more at the grocery store when the opportunity presented itself. Fortunately, he could head to the grocery store after finishing his coffee at the Crescent Moon Cafe; the location his father suggested. Several goals were orbiting through Russel's mind, purchase his bitter heaven, inform his day he stayed at the cafe for a bit, then finally purchase more coffee grounds before heading home with plans of seclusion.
The brown-haired man headed down the apartment stairs with some haste. There was nothing special about the apartment complex, the usual off-white walls with a subtle tinge of blue surrounded Russel as he hurried downstairs. Purposefully, the seer turned away from the elevator, opting to hustle down the stairs. Fewer people entered those hallways, thus Russel oftentimes found himself more comfortable leaving the complex through the staircase opposed to the convenient elevator. Once downstairs, Russel hurried through the front doors, turning to enter the outside parking lot.
Without hesitation he managed to reach his vehicle, open the door of a small, black car before entering, sitting in the driver's seat. He fished the key from his pocket, promptly pushing it into the ignition, a single turn motivating the car to release a silent roar of life. Gears were shifted in a fluid motion, Russel easily backing out of his parking space before exiting the parking lot. Throughout the drive, Russel remained alert, eyes noticing the people on the streets, some with obvious significant others, which made the man jealous at times.
A soft sigh escaped the brown-haired man's lips, but he shoved those thoughts aside. They were unnecessary, relationships complicated matters and allowed people to notice the vulnerability beneath. Silently, Russel continued his drive to the cafe, mind trained on driving in hopes of avoiding the meddlesome emotions. His alert mind managed to notice Crescent Moon Cafe, the man slowing his vehicle and turning to park in the small parking lot. When his car ceased all movement, the ignition was turned off, keys taken before Russel exited his vehicle.
In a single button click, the doors locked, the car keys being returned to his pocket shortly afterwards. The bespectacled man walked around the corner, entering the building before getting in line. There, he purchased a small cup of black coffee and a banana muffin before turning to face the sets of circular tables and chairs. If he wished to please his father, Russel would be required to sit somewhere. The brunette's eyes scoped the cafe until, finally, his eyes rested on a table in the corner-most area of the cafe.
Quietly, Russel weaved through the tables before reaching the secluded, little paradise. Despite the people inside the cafe, they appeared busy conversing between the other crowds to notice him sitting at the corner table. A smile breached the bespectacled man's face. Father commanded him to social, however, Russel only planned on truly accomplishing the task if somebody spoke to him. For safety reasons, he and his father used a location tracking app, thus Forest would notice his son at the Crescent Moon Cafe, but little would he know Russel only attended to put effort into the request should somebody speak to him first; it seemed fair.
Atticus wandered around the city aimlessly. If it wasn't for the fact that Terrors lurked these streets, he might have been fine with lingering outside, though from experience, he discovered that safety was easiest indoors so he wandered towards the Crescent Moon Cafe. Slowly his hand would reach up and tug the door open before slipping inside. The month of June, it was feeling warm outside and it pleased him greatly, not that it would matter to much since he had died and come back. Slowly he moved away from the line, trying to figure out a spot where he could sit. He could hear people from all around him so he chose to keep moving, hoping to find a spot with no people nearby. Though life would have been easier if he had removed the blindfold to see who all was around him, he didn't favor such an act. At least this way if his power activated he wouldn't be able to see anything but pitch darkness, thanks to the fabric pressing his eyelids closed. There wasn't any noise that he could tell, in the corner, so he headed in that direction. Once he was there, he reached out until he found the top of the chair, pulling it out before taking a seat in it.
A few seconds of silence went by before he came to realize he could hear the breathing of another individual, Russel to be exact. How embarrassing. I managed to miss it because I'm tired of all of the walking from earlier. He thought to himself as he debated on what he could say. "Excuse me, is this spot taken?" He would ask, figuring that regardless of removing his blindfold or not, the question would be required to ensure that he could remain here. Besides it would cause more problems then it would be worth if this person figured out that he could in fact see. Thoughts entered his mind, trying to focus on the sounds around them to see if there was another available spot, should Russel tell him that he'd need to move spots.
left alone, trapped in uncertainty. can anyone love me? anybody at all? or am I destined to be alone?
❧
Peacefully, Russel remained stationed in his wonderful, little corner, enjoying every second of his black coffee in his lonely corner. Bitterness would fill his mouth, covering his tongue, manifesting warmth in the depth of his mouth. These pleasant sensations prompted a smile on the brunette's face as he enjoyed his lonesome little world. The world around him was mindless chatter, barely heard and ignored as Russel peered through his phone. The seer was planning on reading one of his books, one saved digitally which intrigued him.
The brunette's eyes fixated on the words featured on the device's screen, his ears failing to detect the ringing bell which heralded the arrival of a new face. Gradually, Russel settled into his story, a crime-based tale reporting on an interesting case. For months he wished to read the curiosities of another crime story, thus the brunette decided to feed those desires with another one. Casually, Russel would sip her coffee, enjoying the bitter heaven which covered his mouth, eyes observing the words and studying the story.
As somebody working in forensics, these instances where he could study other cases granted him insight into the minds of criminals. The comprehension of criminal traits was crucial for somebody of his line of work, therefore, he could appreciate the efforts of hard-working authors and crime documentary directors. Footsteps were ignored, somebody inching closer to his lonesome corner until a familiar voice reached the brunette's ears. The bespectacled man stiffened, enhanced memory locating the voice as the infamous Amon, a TRS hunter.
The forensic's eyes left the words, believing he would witness the obscured face of the TRS hunter, however, a different surprised graced his brown eyes. There, a blindfolded man stood, blue hair and fair skin being features of the man's body. Shock filled Russel the longer he stared at the man. This could not be Amon... it was impossible... he stayed carefully hidden throughout his service to the TRS. Hesitation existed before Russel finally spoke again.
"U-uh, sure," Russel awkwardly answered.
Uncertainty filled the brunette the longer he remained station in the adjacent seat. He straightened his posture, awkwardly sitting in his seat while waiting for the man to take his seat. Smoothly, Russel clicked the off button of his phone, the screen turning black as he prepared for a conversation with the individual who reminded him of Amon. The voice was strikingly similar, thus the brunette found difficulty in how to respond.
Atticus couldn't help but feel like possible staring was taking place, the idea made him uneasy. It was the fact Russel hadn't yet answered him, but instead of questioning it, he took advantage of the fact he hadn't been requested to move just yet. When Russel spoke up, he couldn't help but feel pleased to hear his answer. I feel really awkward right now, I mean it isn't like I bought anything. I really have no reason to be here and yet, I want to be inside. He thought to himself as he debated on what he should do now that he finally had settled in his seat. There was a noise, possible click, maybe? He wasn't aware that Russel had clicked the off button on his phone.
"Was I interrupting something?" He asked, looking in Russel's direction, of course be not mistaken, he was basing it purely on sound alone. If I had been, I'm going to feel really bad. He thought to himself as he leaned against the seat, trying to figure out what he'd do after this. More walking, most likely... I mean I want to figure out who I see when that damn power activities but most of all, I want to find out who killed my parents. He thought to himself, unaware of the dangers he was putting them in since he had failed to hide himself better. "If I had, I can always move?" He offered, not really wanting to do so but then again, it would be better then interrupting Russel's peace.
left alone, trapped in uncertainty. can anyone love me? anybody at all? or am I destined to be alone?
❧
Confusion felt endless in Russel's mind as he stared at the individual with the similar speaking rhythms of Amon, however, no other similarities could be detected. Ironically, the person he spoke to covered his eyes, meanwhile, the outfit Amon wore covered everything with the exception of those cyan hues which peered out from the darkness of his garbs. The bespectacled man was uncertain about the current situation, however, for the time being, he assumed everything was merely a coincidence.
Amon was a TRS hunter shrouded in mystery, somebody who spoke few words and never told stories of his unknown history. People told rumours, but validating those rumours were impossible unless you managed to receive an answer from the man himself. Alas, the resemblance of voices still piqued Russel's interest. He straightened his posture some more, his eyes fixated on the mysterious blindfolded man. The forensic was unaware of the stranger's delicate hearing, surprise blossoming onto Russel's face when he asked if he should move.
"Oh, no, no. It's fine. Feel free to sit," Russel insisted.
Despite the stranger being blindfolded, the bespectacled man gestured to the chair across from him. Quietly, the brunette contemplated a discussion topic, wondering if there was a way to confirm this was merely a coincidence. It was difficult to believe this could potentially be the infamous Amon. Since arriving at the TRS, the hunter never revealed his face, his history or any personal details. It made him difficult to speak to under most circumstances.
Atticus couldn't help but feel much better when Russel had told him that he was fine to sit. Thoughts were processing as he remained seated in the spot that had been offered to him. Scents could be smelled all around him, but he lacked the money to buy anything here, not that he required it to survive or anything like that. It was just for him to remain here, he really should be a customer and he had yet to buy anything. Silence seemed to come between them, unsure of what he could say to excuse his reason of being here without much of a reason. "Nice place they have here, huh?" He asked after a moment, only being able to guess since his blindfold kept him from being able to see it. Alright, well else could I say? He thought to himself before he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"I noticed you come in, I was wondering if you'd like anything to order?" The girl answered, attempting to be polite. Figuring that he wasn't aware of the location of the line, or had needed possibly assistance on what he could order. He flinched slightly, having dodged the line on purpose because he didn't have a reason to buy here, he just didn't want to remain outside anymore. "Umm, sorry?" He answered before adding, "I wasn't planning on buying anything." He admitted before slowly pushing the chair out to stand. "I've no money and I'm not required to survive." He apologized, feeling awkward because Russel was nearby hearing all of this. The girl slowly pulled away from him, unsure of what to say, on the one hand she had no reason to extend his reason of staying since it was meant for customers.
left alone, trapped in uncertainty. can anyone love me? anybody at all? or am I destined to be alone?
❧
Confusion was a swirling force, entering his head and jumbling his thoughts because of the unique trait his companion held. The voice, strikingly similar to the mysterious TRS hunter Amon kept Russel from focusing on the notion of this individual being an entirely different person. Blue hair sprouted from the stranger's head, eyes hidden by a blindfold wrapped around his eyes, hiding their colour and shape. Other facial features were hidden beneath the mask, Russel wishing he could pull the blindfold off; alas, he wished to avoid being rude.
The forensic's eyes observantly glanced over the man, noting anything which could provide hints of his true identity. Part of him wished to believe he was another person while pieces of his mind insisted he was Amon. He struggled to comprehend the identity of the individual across from him. Certainly, he could request a name, however, should this man was Amon, he doubted he would receive an actual name. When the man mentioned the place having a pleasant aesthetic, Russel raised a brow because of the blindfold covering the man's eyes.
"It's quiet and peaceful for sure," Russel responded in a quiet tone.
A small bite was taken of the muffin, the brunette quietly waiting for the stranger to keep talking. After a few moments, one of the waitresses approached, deciding to try and take his companion's order, which he declined. Awkwardness existed between the pair, however, Russel's thoughts fixated onto another thought. Similar to Amon, he stated to not require substance. The striking similarities to the blue-haired stranger and the infamous TRS hunter were striking. The bespectacled man paused for a moment in thought, curiously pondering what would occur shortly.
The forensic required more information to know if these two were connected, which he would respectfully wait for. It was crucial to make a proper hypothesis. When the stranger shifted to move, Russel rose, grabbing his wrist.
"Wait a second," he said softly.
The brunette quickly rummaged through his pocket, grabbing a chunk of change and passing it to the waitress without hesitation.
"Take it. Consider it a tip for letting him stay," Russel said with a soft smile.
He required more information, and the only way he could manage that was positive interaction.
Atticus listened to Russel's comment. He honestly found it nice in here, it was another reason why he wanted to stay indoors instead of going back outside when the girl had come over to ask her question. He wasn't aware of Russel looking at him, though he had a pretty good idea of what the girl's face expression was at this current moment. It was best to leave instead of causing trouble for them. He was preparing to leave but paused when he had felt his wrist being grabbed. Wait? What, why? He thought to himself, confused as he stood there debating on what he should do. He heard change being pulled from Russel's pocket before hearing his words. Why would you? He thought to himself, not understanding why Russel would give money to her for his behalf. "Why would you do that for me?" He asked, still standing as he remained in his spot. He was confused on why Russel would give such a kind gesture for the sake of him being allowed to stay.
Slowly he moved to take his seat once more, finding it rather comfortable here. "I suppose it is only nice when your a paying customer." He mumbled, finding that it made sense, however when he was alive he couldn't afford and despite still being unable at least now he didn't require it. What should I do now? It isn't like I can pay him back. I can't promise it because I'm not earning any money. Just stay silent about it and see if he says anything first, if he doesn't I'll just drop it. If he does, I'll apologize for not having a way to pay him back. He thought to himself. "Do you... ummm come here often?" He asked, somewhat curious.
left alone, trapped in uncertainty. can anyone love me? anybody at all? or am I destined to be alone?
❧
The chunk of change given to the waitress was nothing spectacular, but was a little over two dollars, meaning it was plenty to afford a coffee or some treat. As somebody who worked a decent job and lived inside a small apartment, Russel managed to save plenty of money. Thus some meagre coins was not considered much for the brunette, especially in the name of investigation. He was required to discover if this individual was truly Amon or merely somebody who possessed a similar tone and accent to the Terror Response Syndicate's most mysterious member.
Fortunately, the young waitress seemed content with the tip she received and probably gave the pair a nod before leaving the table. The bespectacled man watched her for a few moments as she returned to the back to divide the tip between her fellow workers for that shift. It appeared they would not be complaining about the blue-haired stranger's presence. The man seemed baffled over the actions Russel accomplished without hesitation. The mysterious man inquired about his actions, Russel's eyes slowly meeting his face.
"Well... It seemed like you needed some help. Now sit, it's a little cold. You might as well use the chance to warm up," Russel answered, trying his best to sound reassuring.
Once the man stationed himself back into his original seat, Russel accomplished the same. When settled, he reached for his precious coffee to take a small sip before following with a bite of banana muffin. He listened to the stranger's words, frowning as he swallowed.
"Unfortunately, that is usually the case," he answered quietly. "There are a lot of businesses that need to make sure they stay afloat. So... sometimes it is necessary."
The forensic leaned back slightly in his seat, brown eyes locking onto the blue-haired man. Never had Russel been particularly excellent in the realm of conversation, especially after his boyfriend broke his heart and turned him cynical. It stunted most conversations, making development through topics difficult. A curious, albeit, awkwardly spoken question escaped his lips, allowing Russel to focus on something.
"Not... too often... I'm not really good at this kind of thing. Hell, I'm downright terrible at it," Russel explained awkwardly.
The bespectacled man's hand reached back, scratching the back of his head in reaction to the question. Interacting with others in a non-work setting was immensely difficult for Russel. Communication was never the bespectacled man's strongest suit and it showed in these moments where he talked with the stranger. A soft sigh breathed through the forensic's lips, forlorned because of his inability to successfully speak with another individual. Gaining the answers he wished would be difficult because of his lack of capability with conversation.
Atticus couldn't help but feel grateful when Russel had given the girl the money before footsteps could be heard as she walked away from them, making him believe she left them alone in peace. "Alright." He whispered, once more taking a seat. "It really is cold outside, I mean not as bad as before, but still I find myself not liking it when it is freezing outside." He whispered, not really comfortable talking about his death but he viewed himself as more cold prior to his death verses now. He listened as Russel had taken a seat as well, lifting his drink before eating something. "It makes sense." He answered before adding, "It is just ashame though." It wasn't like he was required to eat after all. If he had come in here before his death, he surely would have been pained.
As of currently, he felt somewhat numb to the idea of not requiring food to survive. He couldn't help but chuckle when Russel mentioned being terrible at it. "Terrible at coming here?" He asked, looking for further information, unaware Russel meant his comment towards communication. His head titled to the side as he curiously waited for Russel to clarify his question. "I'm honestly not sure if I'm happy that I don't require food or not. I guess I have time to figure it out still though." He chuckled, feeling somewhat embarrassed he had said anything at all.
left alone, trapped in uncertainty. can anyone love me? anybody at all? or am I destined to be alone?
❧
The ulterior motives to discover the mysterious stranger's identity was at the forefront of Russel's mind, however, the forensic refused to rudely remove the blindfold to accomplish those goals. Curiosity was most definitely not considered a crime in Canada, therefore, the brunette maintained his steady bout of suspicions. Alas, retrieving those answers from somebody he suspected to be Amon would not be easy... Nobody knew anything about the mysterious jorogumo, even his TRS identification card was limited on his information.
Files on the well-known elite hunter were secured behind multiple passwords and security questions unlike most members, leaving some to believe he was perhaps an undercover agent for the TRS. It explained the limited information and the unwillingness to publicly display his face, but the man's active duties as a hunter made it difficult to believe. The enigmatic hunter rarely discussed past matters or his personal life, the reason locked inside Amon's mind. The only thing Russel knew about Amon was those cyan-coloured eyes and the hint of a forgotten Scottish accent in his voice.
When the man mentioned the cold, Russel glanced towards the window, nodding before he remembered the blindfold hiding his companion's eyes.
"Yes, it is, but that is Canada," Russel said with a soft sigh. "Are you from around here?"
The brunette returned his eyes to the stranger across from him, another bite of muffin being taken before it was returned to his plate. The coffee lover's hands enclosed around the warm porcelain mug, allowing the warm liquid to heat his fingers. Quietly, he listened to the blue-haired stranger's comments on the business requirement. There was silence from Russel as he struggled to find something to add to the topic. A grimace marked the bespectacled man's face when the stranger asked if he was terrible at coming to the cafe.
"I... I suppose I am," he mumbled with a sigh. "I meant conversation... but it took a lot to come here."
Whenever the pleasantry of a day off arrived on Russel's lap, he locked himself away inside to watch crime documentaries and do household chores. Socializing was difficult after having his heart tortured by his boyfriend's abuse and cheating. Letting people in felt impossible because of the scars that carved his heart and mind, therefore, he kept to himself, refusing to interact with others unless absolutely necessary. The brunette stared into the depths of his coffee, disappointed with his failures at conversation.
Attention returned when the stranger mentioned no longer being required to eat. Hesitantly, Russel lifted his eyes, locking them onto the blindfolded man.
"I could not imagine not eating... it would be weird for me," Russel commented awkwardly.
There was a quietness injected into his tone, a subtle embarrassment. It was difficult to detect, but existed in awkward manner he responded. The realization of his inability to interact effectively with others replayed in his mind, making it difficult for him to proceed.
Atticus shook his head no. "I honestly can't remember when I arrived here though. I guess that is the price I pay for wandering around instead of paying attention to my surroundings." He answered, feeling somewhat embarrassed that he just couldn't remember the answer to Russel's question. "How about you? Are you a local here, I mean?" He asked, returning the question right back at him. The conversation had swapped to the hardships, Russel proving he had meant conversation and not coming here, though if the shoe fit one might as well wear it. "I am that way too." He answered honestly, not able to recall the last time he had a proper conversation, it was a struggle keeping up with the time when he wore a blindfold. He listened when Russel made his comment about not being able to imagine not eating and he chuckled. "Yeah... I have moments where I find it weird." He answered, allowing that conversation to die off because he didn't know what else to add to it.
It was a few minutes later that he found himself raising a hand to his forehead, a sudden headache, no doubt from his power trying to activate, thankfully he had the blindfold on to help assist with his eyes remaining closed, it was still discomfort to experience, however.
left alone, trapped in uncertainty. can anyone love me? anybody at all? or am I destined to be alone?
❧
The simple inquiry related to where the man originated from was a genuine interest for Russel. Throughout his time in the Terror Response Syndicate, Amon never mentioned his location of origin. Based off the man's accent, people alleged he came from somewhere in Scotland, the exact location being unknown. Coincidences were still a possibility, but the brunette still desired information because of the chance. If he was correct, he could be among the few who was aware of Amon's personal information, which was oddly tantalizing.
The notion of being trusted enough to receive the locked up information was flattering to Russel. It inspired his reason to inquire about the man's past out of sheer curiosity. Alas, the answer was unexpected and nothing the bespectacled man accounted for. The mysterious blue-haired man was an enigma of a man. Slowly, he pressed the nose of his glasses, bringing them higher on the bridge. The brunette failed to notice the man's embarrassment over failing to recall the previous location he was from and instead assumed he merely did not wish to inform him.
When the question was turned on him, Russel stiffened from surprise. The bespectacled man lacked a foreign accent, therefore, he did not expect the question to be returned.
"Yes, I have lived here my whole life," Russel explained. "I wouldn't go anywhere else. I have a good job, so."
The end of his sentence was punctuated with a simple shrug. Truthfully, there was only one individual who made Russel briefly consider leaving. His ex-boyfriend resulted in consideration, however, moving would be reckless because of his good job in Lorsette. The bespectacled man was better remaining in Lorsette where his father was and his forensic occupation. Thus he remained, trying to avoid Florence whenever possible. Numbers were blocked, yet, his ex-boyfriend sometimes managed to contact him to harass him.
Calmness crept into Russel's mind when his companion stated he was similar to having a more introverted personality. It suggested an awkwardness on both sides and connected to his theory. Amon was a quiet man, therefore, the statement of being similar could potentially be referencing that. A soft smile touched Russel's face when the man mentioned finding his lack of eating strange.
"Yeah. Do you still eat sometimes then? When you can of course?" The seer questioned out of peer interest of the species group.
People stated undead creatures were supposed to be fear, however, Russel hardly cared for the prejudices of the world. Anybody could be a victim and anybody could be a murderer in his opinion. Perhaps these opinions manifested from his work in forensics. When the man touched his forehead, Russel frowned.
"Are you okay?" The question escaped his lips quietly.
Touching one's forehead tended to be a sign of a headache or migraine, thus it prompted Russel's inquiry. While the brunette could not do anything about the situation, he could take the man somewhere quieter.
Atticus had redirected the question back at Russel, listening as he answered the question. The conversation had slowly drifted into silence again before he heard Russel's question. "I haven't had time to eat." He answered, unsure on how to go about answering the question. "But I do go through moments of missing it while other times I don't." He admitted before feeling his power activate. He had raised his hand to his forehead, as if that would help sooth him. Russel's question had caught him by surprise and he slowly shook his head. "I'll be fine, nothing I can't handle." He answered, trying to ignore the power because it was bothering him. I really wish this power would stop. I recall what it did to me in the past and I'm never going back there ever again. He thought to himself, being reminded that Russel had mentioned having a good job here prior. "What job do you have?" He asked, unaware it would be a key question to Russel's curiosity about him.
left alone, trapped in uncertainty. can anyone love me? anybody at all? or am I destined to be alone?
❧
Quietly, Russel sat, listening to his companion speak about his experience as an undead creature. Admittedly, the brunette found himself enjoying the conversation both from his suspicions and the topics rising in their discussions. Undead creatures were fascinating considering they surrendered the basic necessities of the living, with some exceptions. There were species like skinwalkers who broke those characteristics, alas, he believed the man to be a jorogumo. If Russel's suspicions were correct, the man was Amon.
The blue-haired man's experiences with not being required to consume food interested Russel. The bespectacled man discovered fascination in learning and psychology, thus gaining a mere opinion on someone's experiences piqued his curious mind. With a respectful quiet, Russel listened, absorbing every word which left the blue-haired man's lips. A soft 'hmm' escaped Russel's throat upon listening to the first comment made by the man he assumed was Amon. It appeared his suspicions were logical considering Amon was an elite hunter and close friend of Lieutenant Redenbacher.
Elite hunters were usually busy considering they were among the TRS' most powerful fighters. The constant attacks conducted by the Assembly of Phantoms proved their presence was necessary for people to find safety in the bustling city. Similar to all pieces of the Terror Response Syndicate, elite hunters were required to assure the dastards would be defeated without hesitation. Therefore Russel could believe the possibility of this mysterious man being the infamous Amon, the mysterious, masked TRS hunter.
Unknowingly, Russel nodded at the following comment of whether or not the stranger missed eating. The response was automatic when one was gathering new information.
"I see," he responded, voice quiet. "It must be useful at times though. I can only imagine how much I would get done if I didn't need to eat or sleep. But... I am definitely not risking my life to achieve that."
Unfortunately, what Russel would assume was a headache or migraine befell the stranger. A frown graced the seer's lips as he watched the man handle the problem, insisting he was fine. The bespectacled man remained silent, unwilling to push until he gained some definition of closeness to the mysterious man. There was an inquiry about his occupation which prompted Russel's attention to return to the man. Perhaps this was Amon and he recognized his voice?
"Oh, I'm the head forensic of the Terror Response Syndicate here," Russel explained. "I have been there for a while."
The forensic wondered if there was a possibility he would be granted some special information about Amon. If his suspicions were correct, the man stationed across from him was an elite hunter. Thoughts manifested in swirled, Russel wondering if perhaps Amon was using this moment to have regular conversation without being hidden beneath those layers of clothes.
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The skin is created by Wolf of Adoxography and Gangnam Style. The thread and conversation remodels are by Kagney. The Strange Reality board list, Heal My Soul info center, I Remember Now mini profile and Electric Requiem profile remodel is made by Pharoah Leap. The Who's That Member member list remodel was made by Tictactoe. The Cbox.ws Shoutbox remodel was made by Trinity Blair. All templates used for claims, information sheets, applications, etc are credited to their owners; credits for these can be found in the threads the templates are use on. Images that are used on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners, however, they have been edited by Zac with a few being edited by Chibi Magician. The plot, rules and various other information pieces for The Duality of Man are written by Chibi Magician with the assistence of her co-admins, Finnegan and Dremulf, alongside other unlisted people who were kind enough to give their input. The TRS, AP and face claim were all created by Fleur for specifically the use of TDOM. All plugins used on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners. The templates my members use are credited to their maker, if you find a template that belongs to you, but is uncredited, please speak to Chibi Magician or the member themself. Characters created on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners and should not be used elsewhere without the creator's permission.
Special thanks for the members of TDOM who make suggestions to help make this site better. Even though we can not accept all suggestions, we immensely appreciate it. Thus, we give credit to any additions that you thought of and were later implimented by the staff, because we are glad you give us these excellent ideas.