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 2024
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.
Since the wonderful members of TDOM enjoy the site enough to play around on it, this thread is to assist with the site's tidying! Functionality is important and we want to make the site functional even if its activity will be minimal at best!
It was a moonless night but not completely pitch dark thanks to the stars that lit up the sky. Serenity was making her usual late night rounds at the Rose Grove cemetery. As a grave-keeper, it was her job to make sure no one would come to deface gravestones or rob the graves. If anyone tried, they would meet their untimely or timely death by her scythe. It was very quiet, only sounds that could be heard were the occasional chirping of crickets. As Serenity walked around checking the graves, she kept her hunger at bay with a brown bag filled with chocolate mini donuts.
As the night went on, it was mostly uneventful until at one point, she sensed a soul nearby. Hiding her donuts by a gravestone, she skipped on over to where she sensed the soul. There was a teenage boy in dark clothing, hopping the fence. She stayed back and hid herself to wait and see what he planned to do. She took a peak at his soul, while it wasn't pitch black like some souls she'd seen before it wasn't entirely pure either. She watched the boy head over to the mausoleum. It was chained shut and only the groundskeepers and herself had keys to gain access. She watched him take out a pair bolt cutters and right before he could use them, she called out to him. "Hey mister, do you want me to unlock that door for you?" As the teen turned around to see who had spoken to him. His body was sliced through with Serenity's dark death scythe.
It was a clean and swift cut though his blood did splatter upon the top half of his body falling to the ground. Some of it got on her face the rest on the glass doors of the mausoleum. The boy's soul slipped out from the bottom half that was starting to fall to the ground. Serenity quickly collected it before it could fly off. She then wiped the blood off her cheek with her hand and put her scythe away before walking back over to where she stored her donuts. The boy only had himself to blame for his death. Had he not broken in and tried to cause trouble, he could have lived. She went back to munching on her snack and continued her rounds. She'd have to decide whether to deliver the soul to purgatory or just eat it. Oh well, there was no real rush to decide.
There was a sinister darkness that a moonless evening provided as light was dulled, only being provided by tiny stars and the occasional street light. Even the mot courageous individuals could become paranoid or worrisome on these types of nights. It always appeared to bring suggestions of terrors, Assembly members or criminals lurking around the scattered buildings in the outskirts. The oftentimes rundown structures only generated further concern, making even the most innocent sounds feel malicious. That was the general mood that these types of nights provided for Grayson as he carefully gazed over outskirts of Lorsette from his perch on one of the buildings. A metallic mask covered the lower portion of his face, hiding the constructs of his mouth and a section of his nose. Despite the disguise hex the man used, he preferred caution over regret.
The night's disguise was simplistic, the fallen angel making himself a long-haired male with slender, feminine features in order to maintain obscurity and difficultly identifying. Clothing was altered, better equipped for handling the immensely smaller size of his disguised form for the night. The cloak and dark under clothes remained, all designed with a variety of pockets meant for hiding the daggers and knives he carried. Each were specially places, cautiously avoiding the possibility of reflecting light off the metallic blades. Hilts were painted, tarnishing the once polished metal in favor for ugly, black paint. Creating these personas required plenty of time and effort, but they felt necessary for the night-time hero. Gaining credit for the heroic actions was forbidden considering it was meant to allow him to repent for the sins thousands of years prior; when his wings were tainted by the ugly, black plague of amoral decisions.
His reddish-brown eyes, one sightless, glanced back towards the black wings that nervously twitched from their master's paranoia. Close inspection revealed the scars, faint, but still visible on the delicate flesh beneath the feathers. With a gentle sigh, his wings began flapping, lifting the man off the ground and into the sky above. Once airborne, he continued to scan the ground below for signs of trouble, his intentions to help the people of Lorsette weighing heavy on his shoulders. The city was victimized by the Assembly of Phantoms constantly, allowing for criminals to smoothly accomplish their nefarious act with little to no struggle. The fallen angel could already imagine that the RCMP were overrun with criminal activity, thus he attempted to do his part as merely a nameless shadow that gained mixed opinions. Some believed him to be a genuine hero while others witnessed the black wings and believed he could possible request payment for his actions.
Eventually, he arrived to the expanse of field dubbed the Rose Grove Cemetery. In complete honesty, Grayson never enjoyed graveyards since they acted as grim reminders of the numerous lives spent; the concept of a majority of those people being more deserving of life than him. The black wings made it obvious that he remained a sinner, that in the depths of his extensive history he had accomplished an amoral act that stained the innocent white. As he continued flying deeper into the cemetery, he noticed the various movements of the world below. Two individuals in a graveyard during the night was suspicious to the fallen angel, resulting in him silently gliding down from the skies above. Carefully, he landed behind a hedge that separated the mausoleum from a small family grave. His eyes gazed through the branches, a majority of his view being obscured by the slender, leafy twigs.
Two figures were in the scene, one close to the large, mausoleum while the other, a young female, began approaching. There was only a few words before Grayson found himself stumbling back in surprise. In a singular, swift movement, the woman in the situation had sliced through the young man who has attempted to infiltrate the mausoleum. The suddenness of the heartless action caused the hero's to begin beating rapidly in fear. His wings twitched as they settled against his back, pleading for retreat, but the man remained still. Another gaze was taken through the hedge, the fallen angel immediately noticing the blood soaked ground where the man had once stood. A gruesome murder in Rose Grove Cemetery was definitely not how the hero had expected to start his evening.
While back to doing her rounds near the mausoleum, she heard a rustling in the shrubs and when she looked over, she saw what appeared to be a person in the shrubs. Serenity decided to confirm this by taking a peak at their soul. It was quite pure, one of the purest ones Serenity had ever seen. Though, she could sense this person was scared most likely because they witnessed her disposing of that intruder earlier. Nevertheless, Serenity had no intentions to harm a witness, after all, she was simply doing her job, it's not like she committed a heinous crime or anything. While it was rare, Serenity called out to the frightened individual in her usual monotonous voice. "It's okay, I won't harm you. There's no reason to. I apologize if I scared you but, I had to do my job, the boy had no one but himself to blame." She sad coldly but she did feel bad for frightening someone when she didn't intend to, that much was true. She pulled out a donut from her bag and stared at it for a moment before holding it out to them. "you can have this, if you want." It was like she was attempting to coax a pet out from under the bed.
There was a fierce palpitation of Grayson's heart while he remained still after his startling. The sheer brutality of the murder was the utmost concern, causing the fallen angel to hesitate as his thoughts churned. A girl who appeared to be incredibly young had managed to commit a horrendous atrocity, ending the life of somebody who merely trespassed and attempted to break in. It was a contrasting in moral standing, Grayson being incapable of aiming for a lethal shot against the most bloodthirsty of people. Ending another individual's life and condemning them to Purgatory or worse could never be something he could commit. The concept felt like embracing the darkness of his wings, informing himself that their colour change was splendid. The confusing circumstances of his wings changing had failed to plague his soul, leaving it white.
When the mysterious individual approached, Grayson took a few cautious steps backwards; this situation was not favorable in his opinion. Proof of the crimes committed was still required since merely harming somebody who looked this incredibly young would not bode well for his reputation. The neutral tone that she spoke with possessed an oddly chilling sense considering it displayed no remorse alongside a coldness. At the word job being mentioned, the fallen angel stiffened as concern entered his eyes. Jobs the revolved around outright murder were always concerning because it suggested the possibility of there being multiple people involved; it meant answers would not be straightforward. The offering of the doughnut failed to calm his anxious nerves as his memories replayed the gut-wrenching death that occurred before his eyes. There were various occasions where he witnessed death, but it never grew easier for him to watch.
"... No thank-you," he answered quietly.
An analysis was taken, the fallen angel wondering if words would be wasted with attempting to speak of moral reasoning. While being a rather honest individual who possessed only a few secrets (most of which revolved around helping others under his disguise), he desired a better judgement of the girl's character. Unfortunately, that arrived with the necessity to begin conversation which was already a difficult task for the rather shy fallen angel.
Her attempt to coax the man from out behind the shrub failed. It was clear to her as the moon hanging in the night sky, he couldn't fathom her actions and was terrified of her. She pulled a little back book out of her skirt pocket and flipped through its pages for a moment until she came upon an entry with her victim's picture in it. The young man she had killed apparently was on her list of souls for collecting. She had checked it earlier in the day but hadn't seen it so it seemed that it had updated between when she last checked it and before she took his soul. He was originally supposed to die from a fall after exiting the cemetery. So, either way he would have died that night. His eminent demise just came a bit sooner than it was supposed to. The kid's name was Hunter Pierce and he was a high school drop-out and petty thief. She decided to show this to the frightened man. "I am a reaper, the person I killed was going to die tonight whether I took care of it or his fate did. It just made soul collection much simpler for me." She said all this calmly and in monotone after showing him the kid's entry. "It's not of any importance whether you believe me or not, I just thought it would be more convenient for me, if you are informed of this. This world's laws do not apply to me, I'm here to do my job and nothing more. Take that as you will mister" She said as she popped the donut the man declined into her mouth and walked away.
There were no circumstances that would justify death in Grayson's eyes. Thousands of years of being witnessed, threatened and once committing the abhorrent action had created a pit of hatred and fear for the concept. The various captured criminals never received the harshest judgement of death as a result of his personal opinion related towards the topic. When the girl's hand reached for her pocket, grabbing a black book and flipping through the pages. The spectacle was foreign to the fallen angel since from his perspective there was randomness; was she perhaps a constant note taker? When the book was turned to allow viewing, Grayson flinched at the page marked with notes of death. The letters etched on the paper were read, noticing the name alongside various other factors that indicated an early grave.
There was a chilling sense to her monotone voice which seemed emotionless which resulted in Grayson flinching beneath the metal mask. Even with the information, the fallen angel found himself unable to approve of the actions. When the girl began walking away, he followed slowly. There was perhaps hopelessness in speaking against the horrendous actions, but the fallen angel wanted to at least attempt at reasoning.
"... I believe obeying the laws of this world to be a respect of sorts... I suppose after millenniums I have grown a disdain for death and the likes despite its necessity. However... I could never approve of another individual killing somebody else," Grayson responded.
The tone of his voice was soft, maintaining a sense of calmness after his heart rate had soothed. Genuine emotion remained behind his words, making Grayson's admiration for Earth's justice system obvious despite the flaws it still possessed. As naive as the thoughts remained, the fallen angel believed that peace was possible in the future. The scars of the War of Traitors healed in some small sectors of the Earth, so why would or not expand and be proven with other concepts?
As Serenity walked away, munching on her donut, she had taken notice of the man following slowly behind her. When he spoke up, attempting to reason with her, she stopped in her tracks and turned around to face the man. "I am not of this world, I'm a reaper, a bringer of death, a ferryman of the river Styx, I only come here to Earth to carry out my job. I have long since been dead. I'm sure you can't fathom my way of thinking but I see no point in respecting the laws of a world I do not live in. Especially since I'm not one of the living to begin with." Instead of her normal monotonous voice, it held anger and sadness in it, even if only very faint. How dare he try act as if she's a monster. If not for those monsters in human skin brutally killing her and her entire family, she wouldn't even be here. As she stood there looking at the man, now with a look of disdain and fists clenched. "That boy died because it was his fate, his timely death just came slightly sooner than it was supposed to." Her expression and voice returned to normal when she said this. Serenity then continued on her way.
There was the slightest hints of hope that the timid hero possessed over reasoning with the murderous, young girl. Unfortunately, the attempts that Grayson made appeared to full upon deaf ears as the explanation left her lips, anger and sorrow being mingled together. The words suggested those bindings of duty, the belief that being a specific species meant a preset occupation and journey. It was a chilling concept to witness, suggesting loyalty to the cause of death; which the fallen angel naturally disagreed with. Those years of being trapped with the haunting memories of murdering another being awakened, resulting in the disguised man taking a few small steps backwards. Should he abandon all moral practice, would he have become similar to this young girl? Reasoning was a nonexistent, it became obvious at the rebuke towards his words.
Redemption for sin would not be mended by arguing, but rather action towards salvaging the destroyed innocent that he possessed. An extensive sigh escaped his lips, inaudible because of the metal mask that covered his lower face. Other criminals had to be given justice, then he could perhaps find a proper method to deal with this young lady who appeared a mere twelve.
"I apologize," he murmured halfheartedly. "There is no possibility that I can see death as a positive."
Quietly, he turned away from the girl, his mind churning with thoughts of how to assist the situation appropriately. Currently, reasoning was procrastinating the use of his abilities; he left home to assist others. Those moments where he wanted to be a hero to finally discover retribution for the sin of murder would have to begin. This young girl could be properly handled once he possessed information about the nature of her crimes alongside the necessary proof to protect his reputation; seemingly beating up a little girl would definitely not bode well for it. In silence, he retreated from the mausoleum, going down the hill, his red eyes scanning the fence for the gate while his black wings remained stiff to his back. Based on the information he possessed, he was already near the necessary area for his patrol and sometimes closer investigations could reveal interesting discoveries.
Do not use drama to get attention in the chat. Nobody appreciates it.
2
No advertising, we have a perfectly fine board for that.
3
Please try and keep swearing to a minimum in the chat.
4
All chat usernames should be PG-13 and not break the ProBoards ToS or site rules.
5
A Chatango account is not required, but it is encouraged.
6
Please avoid spamming the chat; accidents are understandable.
7
You may use the in-character chat prior to acceptance.
8
Be respectful to anybody who enters the chat, including guest, fellow members and staff.
9
Guests may speak in chat at anytime to ask questions or get a taste of our community~!
resource sites
affiliates
credits
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.
