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!
Commands had been distributed throughout the Assembly, words being exchanged of current affairs and arrangements. Locations were specified, the requirement to damage the opposition becoming a primary target. It resulted in Octavio leaving home during the earlier hours of the morning and travel down towards the glorious Starlight Beach. The destination was congested with people flowing through the bland walkways, ignoring the smiling redhead with an old dark green bag strapped to his back. There was always pleasure discovered in being capable of hiding amidst the crowd, similar to a wolf in sheep's clothing. Smiles, laughter and general displays of happiness was heavy in the air despite the brisk weather that mother nature provided. Nobody was aware of the hidden work being done by the Assembly members as they orchestrated their plans, the preparations almost completed.
Movements were slow, the informant straying from the crowds to an isolated warehouse, rundown and long forgotten. With TRS agents being prominent in the coastal area, caution transformed into the utmost importance which forced the young man to temporary ditch his usually reckless behavior. The warehouse itself possessed numerous broken windows and the walls looked overgrown with plant life and sported numerous pieces of graffiti. It remained separated from a majority of the action, people oftentimes ignoring the structure and leaving it for the criminals in the area. The door was approached, a large, heavy thing with rusted over hinges which threatened to squeak should they be disturbed. Instead of risking the noise, Octavio rounded the corner where he discovered a broken window where the glass had been cleared. The redhead vaulted it with ease, landing in a silent crouch once across, his bag only making the slightest hints of noise.
A few moments of silence ticked by before he felt confident to rise to full-height. Numerous shelving units covered in water-stained boxes occupied the space alongside some conscientiously placed unscathed ones; presumably left by other occupants of the warehouse. The first few steps were taken slowly, Octavio listening to his surroundings to make certain the previous inhabitants were vacant. There was a steady silence as he smoothly surveyed the remainder of the warehouse, finding himself pleased by the current affairs. Once safety was discovered, the young man slipped into an old office hidden among the shelves where he opened the forest green bag. The required clothing, ammunition, guns and daggers occupied his bag alongside a trio of small weaponized dolls; a common trademark for his alias. The darkly coloured underclothes already covered Octavio's body, loosely hanging from his body in order to hide his shape. Hastily, the man began working towards hiding his identity which was a requirement for an informant who doubled as a soldier.
Tugged around his shoulders was a large, black long which reached down to his calves while the collar rested just below the chin. Afterwards, a mask covered in shades of black and grey was retrieved from the depths of the bag, Octavio staring into the familiar face. The design was similar to gas masks, possessing large, glass-like area for the eyes. There was only a single lens which was darkly tinted, making the wearer's eyes unbeknownst to those who witnessed him. Meanwhile, the right eye possessed obvious alterations, appearing to be a blacken circle, almost like a miniature hatch. Most would consider the alteration a design flaw or something cosplay related, but there was a significant purpose behind the peculiar appearance. Cautiously, the man removed the eye patch that oftentimes covered his branded eye which held the hand with strings dangling from the fingers. The symbol of the puppet master.
The lower portion possessed the usual ventilation mechanisms, certain sections being removed for a specialized voice modifier. Smoothly, the mask was placed upon his face, pushing away the locks of red hair as the sturdy straps tightened the hefty mask to his face. Once completed, Octavio's facial features were completely concealed which caused a thin smile to touch his now hidden lips. A minor struggle was given as Octavio reached back into the collar, hands searching for the hood that remained beneath the heavy, old trench coat. Eventually, they managed to grab the soft fabric, pulling upwards and over his red hair before carefully tightening the bands. The assortment of weaponry were distributed, the pair of guns being strapped to his thighs while the daggers were strapped to his waist. Ammunition was stored in the coat's numerous pockets, prepared to reloading once it was required. Once the disguise was completed, Octavio retrieved his eye patch and the felt bag, storing them into the jackets inner pockets.
Shortly, the room was exited, the trio of dolls following behind with their right, glass eyes possessing an eerie blue glow, the brand appearing in each. Waiting was required before the anticipated mayhem, the redhead still required for his teammate to arrive and for harrowing sound of the city's alarms. Bearing those thoughts in mind, Octavio stationed himself in a darkened corner of the warehouse, leaning against the wall and allowing his dolls to slump beneath his feet.
The beach was a bustling place; especially during these warmer seasons now coming into play for the year. From early morning to midnight, the warm temperatures, sandy shores and popularly expensive boardwalk attracted crowds of all kind to this domain. This was why the Murder Doll had to make his way here during the earliest hours of the morning, incognito to the eyes of the people. Despite only the name of this infamous slayer of all being a familiarity to the public, his face and necessary choice of garb compelled him to maintain complete discretion to who he is or his very existence in such a bright, sunshiny place like the beach during the day.
Around the early hour of 0500, the being had vanished from the headquarters of the organization which he was indirectly but nonetheless aligned to. Jaxx was fully assembled and weaponized for the purpose of conducting the operation of which he would be one of many to participate in, only that he and a certain someone had their own roles to fulfill.
When he had arrived at the beach, it was the break of dawn. The beaches, usually dotted and squirming with activity, were barren and desolate. Such a sight gave off an aura of serenity and tranquility, a usually busy place being quiet and occupied by the music of the sea reaching out across the sandy shore. It's almost unfortunate that these beaches will become the epicenter of mass panic, he commented mentally, tilting his head and shrugging beneath his cloak, that was tugged back from the sea spray riddled breeze. Perhaps my master and I may walk these beaches together one clear morning.
Brushing such trivially sentimental thoughts aside, his mind returned to utter numbness and his artificial feet, protected by thick sandals designed for effective mobility, carried him forward in the direction of the abandoned warehouse he could spy up the coast. Almost immediately, an eerie sensation had been detected by the magic core of the garbed individual's. The being stopped suddenly, staring off at the warehouse over the bank bordering land from shore. "This is inconvenient," he whispered to himself.
A few moments of stagnant action went by, occupied by calculation, before his jaw shifted and dropped beneath the veil of his facial mask. The most subtle glint of light, teasing the dawning sun, and his jaw closed once more. My suspicions were correct, he mulled to himself. As was my judgement in distance, time, angle and accuracy. Complacently, he proceeded forward; but there was a bit more haste in his movement as he was eager to see the results up close.
The front door to the warehouse was barred closed from his immediate observation, approaching closer to the old neglected structure. The windows were in tact for the most part; at least, enough that there wasn't exactly a man-sized hole. Magical means of entrance, he ruminated. After circling the building twice, he confirmed that a signature existed within still. Without any other means of entry that wouldn't be inconspicuous, he decided to vault through the window. Glass was smashed in, shattering in a violent spread similarly to shrapnel from an explosive. The interior was dark, but far from dark enough to cripple his senses. Almost immediately, he was met with a muzzle and the slightest of flashes. On top of this, a bullet that had been caught between his two long digits.
Jaxx's eyes analyzed the captured ammunition closely. "Thirty caliber, magic infused for penetration and channel-negating effects for arcane incapacitation. Clever, however ineffective on me," he explained aloud, before fixing his dead orbs on the disgruntled TRS initiate who spied on him from the loft between the railing. A cock of a mechanism echoed, but unfortunately for the man his prey had already fled.
"Bolt-Action. Only useful at a distance," a voice came from behind him, prompting him to sit up in horror at the cloaked monstrosity that stood over him. The sniper was unable to speak, as a long needle had puncture his throat yet failed to leak blood or air; therefore keeping him very well alive but in pain. "You want to scream, yes? You want to utilize that radio at your side but cannot?"
Frantically, they reached to unholster their firearm now only to have a three-foot blade cleanly impale his arm and the old wood beneath. A ghastly look stained the initiate's face with horror, tracking the source of the blade to be sliding out of the palm of his predator. "Typical human reaction is the fight or flight mechanism. It seems you chose fight. Interesting, considering the foreboding odds. Now what is your reaction?" Nothing. There wasn't a sound of response, which disappointed the Phantom member. Neither fight nor flight, only pure overwhelming amounts of fear. "A frozen subject is unsuitable for testing, and provides inaccurate results. From what I have learned, this is when I dispose of the faulty subject and seek one anew."
With a effortless reel of his hand, he unsheathed the blade from his opponent in a spray of blood, the scarlet fruits painting the figure of the blade and making more obvious the lacerated edge it adorned. Noticing the twitching muscle in his prey, a hand shot out and clutched his fleshy face, slamming his head against the hardwood surface underneath him. "Shhh," he hushed him tenderly, his melancholy eyes deeply engraved in the other's. Slowly, the blade receded back into Jaxx's arm, shaving off the blood from the mechanisms refusal to accept so much as fluids into it's tight domain. "Trust me, it's better that you submit to release rather than hold onto it... like I did, and could."
For the next few minutes, he watched his victim slowly succumb to his fate. The whole period and even after, Jaxx wondered if they had perished from the bleeding to the very end or from giving in to the inevitable; whether they would have uttered a word if he released their face, or merely maintained silent acceptance. It was a subject that meant enough for deep thought to him, and so afterwards he had sat next to the fresh cadaver and spent the next few hours pondering over the faint sound of blood dripping onto the wood of the first floor below.
So enveloped in contemplation, over the lifeless corpse next to him and his past collection of culled souls, he hadn't even detected the magical signature he knew so fondly loitering the outside of the building until his ears and the corner of his eyes caught a shadowy bundle clambering through the same mean of entry he had used hours ago. Ah... yes. Master, he thought to himself, idly swinging his leg between the railing above and silently observing the behaviors of his partner. It appeared to him that he had not been detected yet, nonetheless a special perk of this covert form he had been built into for this mission.
Once the male below had relaxed from preparation, Jaxx finally decided to make his presence known in his own way. If the male hadn't taken notice before of the dripping blood, they'd find a corpse plummeting from the upper floor onto the floors below; followed shortly by the perpetrator himself, descending and landing into a kneel. Slowly, he rose to his feet. "I took care of this for you," he informed him, as though it were not obvious. "I trust your venture here was safe, my dear Master?"
There was a lurking foreboding feeling that Octavio discovered while he remained leaned against the cold, stony walls. Death was a heavy scent, acrid scent throughout the facility, initially believed to be a result of possible criminal affiliation, however, it smelled particularly fresh. Scents of decay were lacking, suggesting the chance of somebody recently being disposed of. Constantly, the puppet master's eyes flitted around the numerous shadows, expecting an individual to appear randomly from the darkness. The subtle sound of liquid dripping down and smacking into the concrete floor was apparent; perhaps a connection? A nervous emotion crept over Octavio, causing the teen to bristle at the thought of hidden assailants preparing for ambush. The isolated location was designed to allow for his ally to arrive and wait safely, the person who bore the face of a familiar individual now twisted into an entirely different image.
Imagining the face always resulted in Octavio flinching as curiosities were made towards what happened during those years of separation. The transformation into the weaponized golem had become obvious, allowing the redhead to realize the meaning of those notes of pain sensed throughout the remainder of his high school years. The thoughts were forcefully shoved away, the Puppet Master attempting to fixate on today's task. Those who did not affiliate with Zeredah needed to be destroyed and the TRS' strength required some diminishing. An eerie contemplation was taken towards the massing number of TRS agents who remained ignorant to the wonders of Zeredah's future world. The actions of the Assembly were designed to bring forth the positive ideals of Zeredah's society and enforce the true meaning of nature. Only those strong enough to survive deserved to continue living, it was obvious and displayed by numerous other species.
For an extensive amount of time, Octavio's partner remained undetected until the sudden shifting in movements. When the corpse fell from the upper level, blood leaving the hole left in the unfortunate victim's throat was when the Puppet Master became aware of the other occupant. The dissatisfying thud of the limb body smashing into the concrete below echoed through the warehouse. Instinctively, the dolls stood from their position around Octavio's feet as the teen prepared for an unscheduled fight. Shortly, the perpetrator followed, landing gracefully onto the floor with a trained amount of ease. Suddenly, the Puppet Master soothed as realization touched his hidden face as of the individual's identity. While being familiar with the man's former name, Octavio referred to him as the current alias of Jaxx, the renown Murder Doll to citizens.
There was silence from the redhead, his green eyes staring at the familiar face through the dark tinted lens of the mask. The usual analysis was made, Octavio noticing the distinctive similarities of his former crush and friend. Naturally, differences were bound to be apparent from the transformation of a mere boy into a terrifyingly capable, self-aware weapon who considered him the master. The changes remained surprising, currently catching the Puppet Master off guard whenever he spared a glance at his partner; growing acquainted with the concept was taking time. Somewhere, feelings had become a confusing mishmash considering Octavio remained uncertain to the similarities this man held with the young teen he secretly adored. After realizing the hesitation, the redhead glanced away mildly embarrassed from his absurd amount of staring.
"My travels were safe," he answered, the voice changer distorting his regular tone. "Considering the... person you took care of, I am guessing your travels were a little more dangerous?"
In complete honesty, Octavio doubted that Jaxx was truly in danger considering his adept skills and merciless attitude towards others. The recently added victim to the extended list of casualties alongside the unscathed Jaxx made it rather obvious. Closer analysis of the deceased revealed the TRS affiliation, the colours contrasting against the dark uniform the enemy wore. Naturally, agents of the Terror Response Syndicate deserved the horrible fate for believing negatively of Zeredah's perfected world.
"Excellent job disposing of the enemy," Octavio stated coldly.
Destroying a TRS agent required appraisal from the person referred to as the master; murdering TRS agents and affiliates was the primary objective. Carefully, Octavio crouched down and retrieved the dolls that had fallen limp at his feet and placed them into the numerous pockets of the black coat. They were a necessity for the attack, but manipulating in order to transport them was a waste of precious energy.
"Have you been given a summary of the plans?" The Puppet Master asked, prepared for business.
There was still time to explain should it be required considering the alarms remained silent currently. When creating arrangements to meeting prior to the attack, Octavio had made certain to leave time for possible explanation should it be required alongside more obscure preparations that included possible retreat concepts and general layout analysis of the coastal area. Everything needed to progress smoothly, and the redhead was determined to make the notion possible.
Jaxx was not even fazed by the spark of life in the dolls, as it had been a all too familiar process and sight, this male having been his master for a while now. Instead, he rolled his shoulders casually as a basic act of function checking his mechanisms parts to ensure his innards and nerves are properly working. "Apologies for startling you. I will make sure to make my presence better known next time," he assured him, leaning against one of the pillars holding up the blood-dripping catwalk above. The doll had his own away of making entrances, introductions, and impressions that rather defied the laws of formality and appropriation. Censorship was not something he had attained a fond understanding of.
"My travels were safe. Considering the... person you took care of, I am guessing your travels were a little more dangerous?" the redheaded master had responded to his inquiry, his voice vastly distorted. Nonetheless, it was fully interpretable for Jaxx, easily recognizing the vocal patterns as he had spent much time of accustoming to every vital detail of Octavio. "I would not use dangerous as the world. I would rather describe it as not completely disinteresting." The walk was uneventful up until he had actually reached the beach and began following it to the storehouse. Things became interesting the second his eyes had caught the slightest glimpse of that TRS marksman stationed here, who he knew would become a nuisance and so he had quickly took action. The hours that followed were ruminated with idle, dreary thought and inactivity.
The praise Octavio had uttered had not gone unnoticed nor unappreciated, as Jaxx had acknowledged with a mere nod of his head having no other more reasonable way to take a positive comment. "I do what is necessary... most of the time." Awkward silence ensued that statement, and he glanced over at Octavio momentarily before looking away without a single change in his unimpressive expression. "I meant to say sometimes, admittedly," he corrected himself in consideration of his inflated words.
"Have you been given a summary of the plans?" the king had inquired of his pawn, which the pawn was obliged to respond to in the most voluntarily honest manner. However, said devotee had to take time to ruminate over his experiences to ensure that he had evidence to support his response. After all, his response was "No," to his subtle shame. "I am afraid I have not been enlightened with that information. However, it is not difficult to deduce that there is bloodshed to be committed if I am the piece being moved into play." Jaxx possessed a consciousness for his usefulness in the art of murder. Very few could equal him in his efficiently broad flexibility in the art of killing; a masterwork that you could say he was born to exemplify.
Behind him, the sniper rifle that had previously been dangling off the catwalk above finally lost to momentum, and tumbled down to hit the first floor below; an event of which Jaxx was unfazed by and treated with complacency. Casually, he turned around and picked up the sniper rifle and studied it's mechanics and workings closely. From what he could tell, it was magical; enchanted, specifically, and thus not utilized through the channeling of magic specifically hence why a mere weakling could work it without effort or skilled unrelated to a marksman's eye. It contained a enchanted magazine requiring no solid ammunition, meaning it could kill without a trace; lacking magical residue even.
Jaxx put the enchanted component away for later use, and began to peruse the marksman's lifeless cadaver for more ammunition types. Surely, a marksman wouldn't go with only a magical source of firepower. "If you don't mind, master, would you entrust me with our objective? I cannot work with what I do not know."
The unfazed appearance captured in Jaxx's face when confronted by the movements of Octavio's weaponized creations made the familiarity between the individual's obvious. Unfortunately, the Puppet Master still found himself lost in the radical transformation that had occurred to his dear crush. There were constant thoughts wondering if the golem remembered him remotely, however, Octavio doubted the notion considering the manner of their interactions. He prayed for remnants on familiarity between them, but the redhead remained uncertain in the amount of knowledge that Jaxx could be withholding. Questioning his crush over the idea was difficult since despite the extreme alterations to his appearance, Octavio found it impossible to place suspicion of secrecy on Jaxx; he could not resist trusting his love. The apology was responded to with a casual shrug.
"Don't worry about it. Making your presence known can already be risky," Octavio responded.
Admittedly, it was incredibly difficult to chastise Jaxx despite the redhead's awareness reasonable demeanor. Furthermore, the Puppet Master remained concerned that forcing his doll to maintain a known presence around him could result in injury; even if Jaxx was built like a tank. The dripping blood echoed through the factory, gradually ebbing due to losing the source and the air held the stench of fresh gore. The explanation towards his partner's voyage was sensible, Octavio nodding in acknowledgment towards the statement of the journey being 'not completely disinteresting' opposed to dangerous. The brief summary was viewed as ample enough to the master. While he stole a few moments of silence, Octavio wished he could have walked alongside Jaxx, maybe even witnessed the incredible golem in action despite the stomach churning his brutality caused. The response to the appraisal was proceeded with an awkward silence, resulting in the redhead lifting an eyebrow beneath the mask while he listened to the correction.
Another shrug became the response, a playful countenance marking his face alongside a soft laugh. The redhead saw little difference in the exchanging of words, resulting in him finding it mildly amusing that Jaxx felt necessity in correcting himself. There was a peculiar charm to his partner's requirement in correcting himself, the subtle need that was held for smaller sentences and formalism maintaining a small smile on Octavio's lips. When his doll responded to his inquiry, a note of concern entered through the master's mind; why were they always hesitant to inform his partner? Initially, Octavio had found himself immensely shocked by Jaxx's sudden change in appearance, but never driven to absolute terror; although, he was familiarized with the man prior to the transformation.
"I see," he stated in a drawn out manner. The tone was accompanied by annoyance from the Assembly not keeping Jaxx informed, but it shortly faded while Octavio proceeded. "Your presumption would be correct."
Silence fell on Octavio, the young man momentarily pondering why nobody had at least relayed vague information to his precious doll. While he remained skeptical, the redhead presumed that those various individuals were fearful of his partner; that was how their classmates responded before Jaxx was transformed into a golem after all. When the rifle dropped, it smacked into the concrete floor with an abrupt bang that made Octavio jump in surprise. Immediately, his head turned, eyes flitting until resting on the shape of the sniper that had fallen from its perch; a long breath of relief proceeded. Silently, the master watched as Jaxx interacted with the gun, listening to the inquiry.
"Of course, I do suppose it my job to keep you informed," Octavio began. "Right now, we're waiting for Lorsette's alarms to go off, that signals that the terror horde has moved in. Once that occurs, its all just elimination before we're forced to retreat, plain and simple." There was a moment of hesitation. "Although, I request you do not stray far from me. The enemy outnumbers us. Either of us being alone out there could be deadly, no matter how skilled you are."
There was was slightest hints of concern touching the redhead's voice, now distorted by the mask, making it nearly inaudible. Constantly, thoughts whirled about the numerous dangers that Jaxx would be facing via affiliation with his persona, the Puppet Master. It always brought anxieties about his partner being injured, the faint memories of vivid emotions and deep care receiving life at the notion of Jaxx getting destroyed.
Jaxx was unfamiliar of the concept with being outnumbered, as his background suggested discretion in his unlawful, even heinous acts against humanity- indiscriminately and therefore justifically, against the criminal underworld. Jaxx began as a fleetable, advanced assassin class. He could face three fully armed opponents at a time and cleanly carry out a self commissioned assassination. More than that, in the heat of engagement specifically, could pose a slight workout for him in assassin form.
Compared to who he was back then, he has evolved as though he were formerly a bud blossoming into a carnation. J.A.X.X was a project to make the ultimate weapon, born from human, that could destroy any race of humanity and even adapt to odds. The time he has spent with Octavio exposed him to many weaknesses and still does even now, to which he functions to learn and adapt. A part of the beings confidence stems from this knowledge, and so will be his alternate ambition if he is unable to find his own humanity in the mechanical monstrous specimen he’s become.
Amusement was what Octavio’s words gifted him. Octavio, as a conscious and functioning piece of humanity, often expressed the curious emotion of worry. Anxious energies cloaked him whenever it came to even the briefest idea of Jaxx’s role and action in battle or even covert missions. One would look at his feelings as doubt for another’s power and ability, yet Jaxx does not see this as so. It is the product of the even more curiously complicated perspective of care; or perhaps, even love. That ‘L’ word is one that he knows by dictionary definition and yet cannot fathom the fiber of that supposed feeling, even though it’s a power which draws him to his determined master. It is a disappointment to him that he cannot shed his ignorance… yet, hopefully.
Jaxx’s amusement for their concern isn’t to be mistaken for cold mockery. Rather, a impressionable quirk of confidence… with a yet to be realized wish to console the redhead. "I am the least of your worries, you should know this well. The likelihood of me faltering against an opponent is very low considering the experiences I have faced prior, and even lower with this function to learn and adapt to any situation," the creation explained to him technically. Despite being in what is named his "assassin build", Jaxx showed a strong confidence in his capabilities even in this form when going into direct combat.
At first there'd be civilians, which this form would be good for due to their susceptibility to danger and inferiority in combat unless there so happened to be a plausible vigilante. After that, it was likely that the TRS would come pouring in, which is when he'd unveil his true potential in this form to execute as many of the opposition as possible. However, there was one issue that he had found surprisingly vexing compared to all else- a small issue that most would think wouldn't be an issue for a monster like him.
"There are many children on this beach, are there not?" he suddenly piped, looking beyond a crevice between the nailed boards of a window. "Young immature souls, whose destinies are yet to have developed nor have been molded against their consent." If only I could relate, he mused to his own subtle dismay. "I am an infamous hypocrite, but such opportunity shouldn't be met with blood. Your organization seems to think more of the now than the future... but again, I'm infamously hypocritical."
There were perpetual concerns taken towards Jaxx despite the awareness of the individual’s endless capabilities all stored within his small body. After witnessing the numerous spectacles displayed through assassinations and battles, Octavio easily noticed the golem’s adeptness towards combat. Despite the observations, surprised remained from Jaxx’s gruesome behavior on the battlefield; sometimes the Puppet Master wondered if defeating him was even plausible. While preparations were required to make certain Jaxx was ready for the following brawl, his abilities never ceased to amaze Octavio. There was no doubting the golem's skills, but the gifted teen still fretted over Jaxx. Years of mourning the loss of the boy who wore a similar face kept the redhead attached and completely mesmerized by his personal feelings towards the golem. Even as the Puppet Master remained in his doll’s presence, there were those lingering feelings of intense affection towards him. The redhead wished he could convey those emotions, yet, found it difficult.
When Octavio had first attempted to confess his love, the boy had disappeared for years, possibly returning in the form of Jaxx. The notion confused the redhead, creating an uncertainty towards the lingering feelings that entered his mind. There were numerous romantic concepts that filtered through his mind daily, but he found himself unable to mention them despite the connection he felt towards the Murder Doll. The response provided by Jaxx was sensible, although, a small frown touched the redhead\s lips, obscured by his mask. A low likelihood of ‘faltering against an opponent’ failed to sooth Octavio’s nerves alongside the mentioning of adapting; his intense care for Jaxx maintained anxieties over him getting injured.
“Either way, stay close. Once the TRS start flooding in, we will be struggling against them alongside the citizens who chose to fight back,” Octavio stated. “Later on we will be required to retreat to avoid hefty casualties on our end, so I do not imagine the battle with rage on long.”
Slowly, Octavio’s eyes checked their surroundings, his mind counting down the minutes until they would be required to get started. The alarms would be blaring shortly, and once the terrors had taken the field, the Assembly members would be expected to follow. Damage and eliminate was the objective with plans to hit hard and fast before retreating to safety. The sudden question resulted in Octavio’s gaze flitting back towards Jaxx, the redhead flinching beneath his mask.
“I believe there will be,” he paused, listening to the explanation. “I understand your concerns, but I imagine unless any children decide to pose a threat you should be fine. Besides, a few members may consider kidnapping to give the Assembly new blood. Although, it is difficult to say how much Zeredah and everybody else thinks of the future… I mean, I am aware of their shadier means to gain members, but I am unaware of their other methods.”
While Octavio remained unfamiliar with most methods of gaining members, he was plenty aware of kidnapping being among the more illegal activities. He narrowly avoided being a victim of the concept, himself alongside his twin being adopted by Assembly members after the grisly deaths of their parents; he simply accepted. His parents were weak, the Assembly was where strength truly was. After a few moments of thought, the sound of the alarm entered the air, earning the Puppet Master’s attention.
“We best get started,” he murmured.
Without another word, Octavio began walking towards the smashed window. The redhead’s steps were cautious as he listened to the activity outside, even detecting distance screams of distress and growls from terrors. The chaos was here to create destruction for the citizens of Lorsette.
Jaxx agreed with Octavio's words. The Assembly of Phantoms seemed to be wholly irrational; lacking purpose, goal or aim in their actions and choices. The operations they conducted and tasks they commissioned had no underlying strategy or reasoning for their investments other than to merely shorten the lifespan of people and their imminent threats. The living experiment was not fully familiar with their ambitions, but whatever it may be, it was being kicked into action in a pitifully unimpressive manner.
Regardless, Jaxx did not consider himself a hand of the Assembly that do their bidding. Instead, he was the pawn, the knight, the rook, the bishop and the queen for his king Octavio to utilize as he pleases. There would be no one else that would attach their strings to him, for he is a doll of a single master. Without his master, he is without purpose; and so he exists loyalty to serve and slaughter, while seeking the answer to his existence and the solution to the hollowed space inside him.
The Murder Doll neglected to respond, since there was nothing he could say that would possibly get through the heads of the other Assembly of Phantom members even if he were to voice it through his master. However, he would move on his own terms aside from Octavio's in order to do what he feels would be best unless specifically ordered otherwise.
Suddenly, the atmosphere of the coast was bursted by a shrill alarm. He could already hear the shrieks of several hundred people in response to what he would assume to be the appearance of the Assembly. "It seems it is time to move," he suggested, before hearing the male's comment. "Very well. Remember what you are to do if yoou are in need of my assistance in any specific location... or even here, should your position be compromised." With those words, Jaxx had fled in a blur straight through the window, moving across the sand into the settling clouds of rampage.
Jaxx was among the most capable in the art of killing. Not only could he kill single targets effortlessly and discriminately while remaining incognito, he could also massacre groups at a time with ease. There was not much means of bringing a life to an end that he could not do, and very few conditions or complications he could not handle. After all, this was what he was born to do. For this operation specifically, Jaxx determined it was best that he prioritize intercepting enemy units rather than civilians. For this reason, he chose to position himself closer to the dunes that lifted the beach up towards the boardwalk so that he could react to TRS interference as soon as they'd arrive.
Flurries of shining metal flashed across the sand as he moved, leaving behind after images of himself due to speed at which he was working. Crimson danced through the air and settled into a mosaic on the grainy beach as he had artistically performed to the expectations of his master. For a moment he had paused then to observe his surroundings, standing straight up. Jaxx was a marvel of horror, with his arms spiny with foot-long extendable curved blades, sharpened to cut a falling feather. Corpses surrounded him like a magic circle of blood, yet he was moved by not a single thing around him; not even by the frantic people fleeing for their lives.
"This is fear," he stated observantly. "Such an extreme emotion. I wonder how it must feel, to be afraid... perhaps I once knew it." Jaxx averted his attention to a man who had been desperately and heroically yet pointlessly fighting off against the lackies of the Assembly. It was a pitiful sight to him, to see one fight for their lives so stubbornly. It's a wonder why anyone would wish to live so badly as to struggle against hopeless odds. "Perhaps fear can compel one to fight, yes? Fuels and invigorates one to rebel against unfavorable odds... or would that simply be bravery?" he wondered further. To Jaxx, this beach was a test chamber; and these innocent civilians were test subjects. The test that was being conducted was their reaction to misfortune and the imminent appearance of death. From what he saw, there was no correlation. It was a variable. "I suppose it is to be expected. Mortal humanoids are naturally complicated."
The blaring of alarms echoed through the coastal area, Octavio easily imagining the mass of terrors proceeding towards the area. Once again, another battle for the war against the TRS was being instigated, the Assembly certain despite the dire odds. While there remained no proper order, the attack was coordinated with the primary objective being to harm the opposition. The massing numbers of TRS supporters were something that required dealing with. There was confidence that the damage could be accomplished sufficiently on account of his doll’s incredible capabilities. Underestimating Jaxx could easily become a deadly error from what the Puppet Master remained aware of. The man was designed for being a murderous soldier on the battlefield, the spectacle of gore always surprising Octavio or even reaching lengths of disturbing him from the sheer brutality. Despite the merciless manner Jaxx disposed of his prey, the redhead never feared the golem.
Between them, there was a loyalty that forged them together, allowing for both parties to create a bond; Octavio was even passive about Jaxx witnessing them mask-less. While the Puppet Master remained wary of most Assembly members, he always found an odd sense of safety around the serial killer. Was it perhaps that face? The familiar face of his crush, the wonderful psychopath who he discovered a strange connection with. The outsider he fell for, perhaps from sympathizing and later discovering an enjoyment in their one-sided conversations still captured Octavio’s heart. It became the likely reason he trusted Jaxx wholeheartedly despite his lax morals; even going lengths to still view the golem as human in some definition. Promptly after the alarm began the high-pitched screaming as terrified citizens realized their lives were not in danger.
The redhead gazed towards the window for a moment, pondering what it would be like to be on the other end of this catastrophe. When Jaxx spoke, his attention returned to the golem, watching as the man fled after providing his piece of what to do in emergency cases. Usually, Octavio was plenty capable to protect himself against a couple of TRS hunters, all it required was some caution, but anything higher led to concerning situations. The Puppet Master stared towards where Jaxx had exited before sighing and glancing around the warehouse. With a soft sigh, he retreated back towards, carefully grabbing his dolls to place them onto the ground outside. The door was shortly closed and locked, the redhead sitting in a corner, his back leaning against one of the walls. A single extensive breath escaped his lips, his eyes closing a moment to fixate on the weaponized dolls outside the room.
Suddenly, his creations came to life, standing on their feet with a frightening ease. A small portion took hiding places inside the warehouse itself while the remainder quietly escaped through the window to assist in the efforts. The outside world has transformed into a chaotic hell, Octavio's dolls managing to catch a glimpse of Jaxx who was conducting his research. Citizens were fleeing, attempting to escape the deadly hands of Assembly members or frightful terrors. A few became stragglers, running frantically under the false assumption they would shortly be safe from the slaughter. The dolls noticed a few, a woman who possessed a face of possible relief shortly realizing the doll climbing her clothing. She attempted to shake the creature off with a scream of fright, but the weaponized creation easily dug its claws in, proceeding. Eventually, the woman collapsed, the dolls proceeding to finish her off with a horrifying ease.
Minutes passed, Octavio flickering through the sights of his dolls, which granted him an expansive view of the area around him. The Puppet Master could sense the movements of his dolls, their patrols in the area being conducted with an efficiency, but suddenly something disappeared from his radar. A brow lifted, the redhead continuing to flicker through the dolls on the battlefield. A grimace crossed his face, the eyes of one of his hidden dolls inside the warehouse noticing the dark colours accented by red; the signs of an elite TRS hunter. Consciousness returned to Octavio's body, his hand reaching for the gun secured on his thigh while he inched towards the door. Suddenly, the dolls ambushed the pair of agents, fending them off while one reached for a radio. It reached his lips, but before the button could be pushed, the door was unlocked and a round of bullets embedded into the agent's chest, leaving a single one remaining.
The retaliation arrived, Octavio ducking behind the wall while fire burst forward. Without hesitation, the distress signal was sent, a single one of the Puppet Master's dolls retreating to fetch Jaxx.
Jaxx was slowly becoming more and more dissatisfied with this event as minutes and even seconds went by of him spilling blood. No matter how deep a red he dyed the sand, or how creative he tried to make his kills, he couldn't quench the boredom even temporarily. To kill so many targets at a single time without enough resistance to at least make him dance was merely dull. The Murder Doll's kill count was already beyond twenty five in the very little time he's been here on the beach and it wasn't rising at any slower of a pace either.
"Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty eight..." he counted aloud, until he finally caught a glimpse of resistance from the corner of his eye.
TRS had arrived in full force, agents determined to snuff out the offense that the assembly had commissioned. The cloaked serial killer watched as his master's comrades and lackies engaged in battle, either falling victim to the retaliation or achieving victory over their opponent and moving on to the next.
Jaxx was not discriminated against, as a dragon-blooded foe headed straight at him in an attempt to trample him with a bull rush, only to receive a mighty slug so hard from the speed of their lunge and the force behind his punch, it tore their chest and ribs apart. The living ultimate weapon, for just a brief moment, could read their eyes and measure the amount of regret they had in having assaulted him so recklessly.
"Nothing personal," he commented, as his victims eyes drew closed.
No sooner after the warrior perished, one had attempted to assault him from his blind spot only to find themselves being slammed into the ground and bludgeoned by the bloody dead corpse of their own comrade and finished off with a stomp on the head, blacking out his lights as instant as his solid foot slammed onto him.
After these two brutal kills, it seemed as though he had been purposely avoided merely for the obvious lethality he presented for the TRS. While Jaxx would normally appreciate this, he couldn't bear to do simply nothing while the beach was a dance floor of blood, gore and death. He wanted to participate in one way or the other, especially since he had specific orders from his dear Master.
During his warpath of butchering TRS agents over regular civilians and supporters, he noticed that something had happened to crawl onto him. Unfazed, he looked down to see it crawling onto his ankle beneath his cloak. The design of it was more than recognizable to him, but also fondly.
"Octavio's toy. If it is clinging to me, then..."
Something in Jaxx had completely changed then. The killer's eyes had lost all of their shine, leaving only pits of darkness. Consumed with determination and bloodlust, the Murder Doll practically flew in the direction in which he had originally came: straight towards the vacant beachside warehouse. Anyone, AP members, TRS members, innocent people, who got in his way were either slaughtered swiftly or trampled by him in his unstoppable rush to ensure the safety of his beloved Master.
Octavio is the only person that ever was able to reach into Jaxx and make him consider them, their well-being, their worth and their feelings. That man was also the only one to have ever accepted him for who he was; regardless of how he looked, what he did, what he thought of, his inconsistent and hypocritical perspectives. Jaxx was born a monster, a ultimate weapon meant to replace the human race as an army.
There was no intention to make him feel a single thing except the will to pay loyalty to whatever command or ambition of his creator; yet poor treatment of him made him sour. The lack of appreciation turned him against them, and he made his birthplace into a bathhouse of blood. However, Octavio's first reaction to him upon meeting him was nothing but fascination and wonder in the abomination he was. Every part of him was a beauty to behold; and this was how Jaxx came to feel such a tight connection to him that he'd name him "Master."
Jaxx swore himself that he'd be the sword, shield and armor to Octavio. Jaxx would fulfill the man's commands, demands, desires and realize his dreams into fruition. No one would ever sever this bond between them. The indescribable sensation the seemingly numb living-puppet had was still to be fully determined, and he was set on discovering what it was that his Master was bringing to him.
The warehouse was rattled by the wall all at once being completely broken through, leaving behind a humanoid-sized hole. Jaxx found himself in, but as always in an obnoxiously excessive way. One turn of his head, and he found a man dressed in colors that were not so foreign to Jaxx as they were colors that he often took pleasure in dyeing a new crimson hue.
Ignoring whatever unattractive squeal had left their gullet in sheer horror of his sudden appearance, he had already been lunging at them and preparing to counter whatever desperate attempt they'd make to save their hide. This attempt turned out to be a swift kick, which Jaxx took the pleasure in catch his foot mid-flight and twisting his wrist in a robotic manner, completely breaking his foot and separating it from the joint.
A shrilly pained squeal for the second time, and in order to stifle his obscene sounds, he violently ripped the male's color coded outfit apart and crammed them along with his fist down his throat.
"You're an unattractively noisy one, aren't you?" he coldly remarked, slamming him into the cold floor.
Jaxx grabbed him by the back of his neck due to the lack of hair on their buzzed head, and dragged him to the wall to begin slamming his face repetitively against the hard wall until the wall started to receive a fresh coat of red, along with denting, breaking and finally the development of a hole. The man's face was becoming more and more unrecognizable, caked in what should be the essence of a living being's life. Even when the man was long lost consciousness from asphyxiation plus blunt force trauma he continued, until his master's offender was rendered braindead. Jaxx couldn't find the ability to stop still.
"I don't appreciate anyone threatening the life of my Master. You deserve worse than this, but you're so pathetic... yes... oh, so pathetic. I would have enjoyed making this death longer," he mumbled lowly.
Flames proceeded to file through the open door as Octavio pressed against the wall beside the threshold. A grimace touched the Puppet Master's features, his hand accidentally being too close to the fire entering the small room. He pulled his left hand away, bringing it closer to his torso as he inched away from the door. The stinging sensation was intense, his hand throbbing painfully as Octavio attempted to think of an escape plan. Desperately, his eyes flitted around the small, windowless office for something he could use to defend himself. There were a limited amount of options, the redhead discovering his best to be attempting to possess the fire manipulator; the idea made him flinch. While his abilities in controlling others was impressive, he still risked the man managing to break free during the brief moment of being open.
Smoke started to accumulate inside the tiny room, Octavio being forced to lower himself to the floor while everything started to burn. Through the subtle crackling of the fire, he managed to hear radio static as the hunter relayed his location and actions. The redhead remained quiet as he listened, rolling his eyes at this hunter's genius plan to capture him for questioning. He wanted to keep him trapped in the room through the usage of flames, but Octavio believed his possible death to be sooner than capture. The ever-increasing amount of smoke alongside the dangerous nature of fire already made it difficult to escape, but the redhead believed he faced possible death from burning alive or smoke inhalation. The Puppet Master sat on the floor, knees to his chest as he continued to glance around the room until his eyes managed to catch glimpse of a fire extinguisher.
In the far corner, the red canister was secured to the wall, likely in case of emergency situations to avoid any cargo or various other implements from burning. Whether the ancient piece would work was an entirely different question, but it appeared to be one of Octavio's few hopes for escape. Unfortunately, the torrent of fire rushing through the door would be near impossible to pass without risking a nasty burn. A sigh escaped the Puppet Master's throat as he rallied his courage to attempt to cross the raging flames in hopes of survival being possible. The reckless warden of this prison would either become his murderer, or he would manage to sooth the flames and control him to cease. Suddenly, something rattled outside the room, Octavio hearing the sounds of debris hitting the ground. A shrill squeal of horror filled the warehouse, obviously arriving from the manipulator attempting to keep him inside the room.
The flood of flames ceased as the high-pitched yowl of pain echoed through the warehouse walls. These noises did not frighten Octavio, considering he could already imagine the beautiful culprit committing the atrocity in his name. The wooden furniture in the room proceeded to burn while the Puppet Master inched towards the other side of the room, glancing out the door to watch the gruesome killing of his assailant. Hastily, Octavio grabbed the heavy canister from the wall in case the man attempted to set his precious Jaxx ablaze. The fire extinguisher was held by the upper section of the handle, the pin remaining inside to avoid any unfortunate accidents. Another peek was taken out of the door as the redhead heard the loud slamming, Octavio slowly exiting the room, leaving the furniture to burn. His location was already snuffed out, thus saving the warehouse from the flames was unnecessary.
Surprised touched the Puppet Master's face, his eyes widening beneath the mask as he witnessed his partner repeatedly slamming the man's face into the wall. The violent action was disfiguring the TRS agent, making it impossible to notice the features the previously had. The fire extinguisher was set down as Octavio hurried towards Jaxx, slowing down to a walk once he grew closer. The words Jaxx mumbled were barely audible to the redhead's ears as he ceased motion, standing behind him. The grotesque sight of his ally handling the TRS hunter was disturbing, Octavio glad not to be the golem's enemy. He enjoyed being Jaxx's master for multiple, happier reasons, but also because he could avoid these cruel fates.
"Jaxx?" He inquired softly. "We should go..."
The redhead prayed the golem would listen before they risked possibly being in the fire of more TRS agents. While Octavio was beyond confident in Jaxx's abilities, their stronghold of a location was gradually burning and the agents could easily take their time to create a plan of capture should they arrive in time.
Jaxx had not offered any reaction in the slightest to the approach of footsteps, which at first were hurried but had then slowed down to a careful approach. Jaxx was accustomed to the mannerism which Octavio portrayed when he mobilized on foot. Jaxx read this, and understood that it was him. Most things that Octavio did out of habit, even in only select situations, Jaxx had completely studied. The Murder Doll saw it as his duty to carefully observe and analyze anything that his Master did for future reference.
Though, what disappointed him was that they had happened upon him brutalizing his victim to a unrecognizable bloody pulp. Immediately when he had spoke, Jaxx had halted almost instantly as the head of the former living had nearly struck the hard surface once again."... yes, you are correct my dear Master." The place was crumbling around them. The being had nearly forgotten that his master was far more mortal than he was on a massive scale. Jaxx could survive the collapse of this building, but his master wouldn't.
He brought himself to a stand, and looked over at Octavio to observe his features. There was a difference in him that he could not label nor place as it had involved those feelings he so direly wanted to sense even once. Jaxx recalls his master not being so keen on his methods of dispelling the lives or security of their foes. Perhaps this caused a more disturbing feeling for the other, to witness him commit such acts? Honestly, the serial killer had no idea what he was doing nor why he did what he did in such a manner. Next time, he will remind himself to be careful as to not allow Octavio to witness his ruthless methods.
"Forgive me for assuming if I am incorrect," he began as he approached him, tenderly wrapping his arms around him in a manner that showed he acknowledged the difference between the textures and compositions of their bodies. "I have violated a preference of yours to not lay eyes on such inhumane acts and revolting imagery. I apologize deeply. As it is my duty to be your blade and your shield, I protect you from all danger; and now I will protect you from the grotesqueness of demise," he told him, sweeping him from his feet in his instant into his arms, and lunging down the hall towards the end.
At the last moment, he rose into a leap, and twisted around, holding Octavio close enough so that he would appear uninjured as they smashed through the wall and saw the light of the clear sky and summer sun once more. Jaxx had dexterously skid to a stop when his feet reached the sand, leaving tracks in his wake.
With care, he had set the young male down upon his feet and proceeded to brush him off of any debris and ash that may have stuck to him. Jaxx turned towards the risen sand clouds away from the warehouse, analyzing the current situation. The sand was spotted with crimson, and the only ones who remained at this point had been the TRS and the Assembly members, engaging in heated combat. From what he sees so far, they have claimed the victory by a landslide. It'd be mere foolishness to stay and continue to battle. All should end while they are ahead.
Despite this personal assessment of his, he had considerately set his eyes on Octavio and inquired of him.
"Are there further orders for me? It appears our goal has already been met. However, that's merely a selfish assumption."
Hesitance graced Octavio's steps as he ventured closer to his beloved Jaxx, green eyes assessing the gruesome situation created by the golem. Concern touched the hidden expression of the Puppet Master as he approached. The protective attitude Jaxx exhibited was interesting, disturbing, albiet, endearing considering the actions taken to defend him against the vicious fire manipulator. Admittedly, the redhead was thrilled when the dark-haired golem shielded him from danger. Whenever these situations occurred, Octavio felt important to Jaxx, which he supposed was something he craved immensely because of his close resemblence to the boy he adored in school. Slowly, the redhead inched closer, noticing the frightening display of the unfortunate man's brutalized form. There were no doubts towards Jaxx's gruesomeness, but Octavio always found himself surprised methods he devised to despose of his prey; it was astounding, but perturbing.
When Octavio spoke, everything seemed to pause for a moment. Flames proceeded to snap and crack behind the redhead, gradually consuming the office. After receiving a burn to the hand, the Puppet Master was concerned over the growing flames, even glancing behind him. Flames licked towards the ceiling, the old sprinkler system failing to function and soak the rising fire. The moment Jaxx spoke, the Assembly informant fixated his gaze on him, listening as he confirmed Octavio to be correct about leaving. Besides the possibility of arriving TRS agents, the building was quickly being consumed by flames, suggesting it would eventually crumble. When Jaxx stood to his full height, Octavio remained still, the redhead being fearless in the presence of Jaxx despite the disturbing scene from earlier. As the golem approach, stating an apology, the Puppet Master remained stationary. Before he could gain the opportunity to respond, Jaxx's arms wrapped around him.
Suddenly, Octavio's heart thumped against his sternum, surprised by the gentleness the golem suddenly displayed. A blush touched his pale cheeks, although, was hidden by the large mask he frequently wore. While Jaxx spoke, the redhead carefully reciprocated the embrace, wrapping his arms tight around him. The words stated, the informant frowning at the golem's apology; his precious servant should not be required to apologize after protecting him.
"Your job is to protect me, so don't worry about it," he murmured.
There was a limited amount of time to enjoy the tenderness of the moment as spontaneously, Octavio felt his legs get swept out from beneath him. The action resulted in the Puppet Master being held in Jaxx's arms, an unexpected circumstance of the moment. The blush increased, the redhead's face becoming extremely warm beneath the mask. Never had the Octavio pondered the possibility of being held close in this style. When the golem lunged forward, the redhead understood the circumstances of being carried; Jaxx was transporting him out of the building. As the wall approached, Octavio shrugged down against the golem's chest, the pair crashing through the wall. A large hole was left in the wall, rubble crumbling around it while they safely skidded to a stop on the sand.
Afterwards, the redhead was placed on the ground and brushed off, Octavio easily finding his footing. Once Jaxx generously brushed off the debris, the Assembly informant peeled away the remnants of the glove. A flinch touched the redhead's face as he removed peeked beneath the glove to catch a glimpse of the ugly burn beneath. While a majority would believe the action to be reckless, Octavio knew Jaxx could easily protect him from harm; he had faith in the golem. The Puppet Master's attention returned to the golem when the question was asked. The throbbing sensation in his hand was ignored since the healers could attend to the injury later. A quick assessment of the area provided the redhead with his answer.
"I say we take our leave... we have done plenty of damage," he murmured.
The evidence was displayed on the beach, their success was evident by the bodies and blood that littered the shores. They accomplished their objective and with TRS on the scene, retreating was a better option. It would be a simple task for the TRS to gain reinforcements as needed considering Lorsette was crawling with them.
Jaxx looked back to feast his eyes upon the work of they and their allies. It had been a bloodbath; carnage wreaked the beaches, and they had minimal casualties if any at all. The benefit of thoroughly disciplining their forces. The Grim Reaper had a busy schedule today due to their success.
Trails of scarlet weaved through the sands, and splatter art polka dots garnished the grains in an abstractly inconsistent pattern. It was obvious which kills were Jaxx's though, as he had mutilated and disemboweled his opponents in a mere passing of his and their bodies. ”It appears the Assembly is triumphant today. Our enemies must have been completely ignorant to our plans for them to have offered little in the way of resistance or response,” he mused aloud. ”I would have liked to have planted traps on the bodies of the deceased, knowing well they will thoroughly investigate the beach. There is little time now unfortunately.”
Jaxx had held nothing personal against the the TRS, but he knew they were a threat to his Master, therefore he would treat them as a mortal enemies worthy of becoming an extra number to his death toll.
Scrutinizing Octavio briefly, he observed the blood that rubbed off of his own body onto his master’s attire. The garments would definitely be stained, as blood was a substance that was not easy to remove from fibers. Jaxx opened his mouth to offer an apology, however his words were stalled by his master’s suggestion- to which he had solemnly nodded his head in agreement. ”Reinforcements will arrive shortly, and I am ill equipped for overwhelming numbers at the moment. What is our next task?”
The decimation of human lives was easily evident across the beach, the signs of Jaxx’s merciless annihilation of the enemy forces being both incredible and frightening to Octavio. Anybody who believed the Murder Doll was nothing to be worried about were definitely the foolish sort considering the havoc he could wreak. There were dozens who were murdered by his teammate’s capable hands, the redhead finding the damages to be a stupendous success for the Assembly of Phantoms. Unfortunately, the Puppet Master doubted the TRS would leave the situation alone for long. Reinforcements were probably already heading to their location, and Octavio assumed it would be a mass of elite hunters who were capable and familiarized with these dire situations. When those forces arrived, the variety of abilities and warriors could become problematic to the Assembly, thus the redhead sighed softly beneath his mask as their time was gradually coming to a close.
After a careful inspection of burn on his hand, relief flooded through the masked man as he realized there would be no scar tissue. Locating a healer to mend the injury would wield similar results, but Octavio was constantly nervous about his identity possibly being revealed; even trusting some Assembly affiliates with the crucial information was impossible. A survey was accomplished of his clothing, the redhead being unphased by the blood Jaxx accidentally coated him in. After being in the Assembly for an extensive amount of time, the Puppet Master learned strategies to remove blood stains from his clothing.
"You did an excellent job, Jaxx," Octavio praised the golem.
Obviously, the golem worked hard on eradicating their enemy, which pleased the Puppet Master since the assigned tasks were carried out with absolute excellence, however, he expected nothing less from Jaxx. His precious ally was capable and loyal, accomplishing objectives merely because he wished it. There was a pause as Octavio frowned, his eyes slowly turning to lock onto the murder machine. A question referring to their next task entered the air, but the Puppet Master remained silent for a few moments. Constantly, Jaxx worked relentless to carry out his wishes, however, there were rarely times those things were reciprocated.
"I say we retreat... Then... maybe we could do something you want to do?" Octavio decided, offering a new activity for afterwards.
The simple offer was an attempt to reciprocate the loyalty and devotion Jaxx provided him. These were small things the redhead could accomplish in hopes of maintaining the golem's happiness. Despite being referred to as master, Octavio genuinely considered Jaxx his teammate, the man mostly providing the unparalleled combat skill while the masked man did reconnaissance.
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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.
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