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!
Bobby scoffed at his superior officer when he was told he would be running and errand. It offended him greatly. The angry, rebellious part of him wanted to snap 'I get it, I'm a fucking apprentice scout, I ain't good for much. But delivery service? You fucking serious?'
Fortunately, the mission was a little more important than the average one. The reports that Bobby now held in his slender hands were those of the current Horde Invasion. It required the attention of their private investigator, Lachlan Fraiser.
The scout apprentice walked out of HQ, toothpick hanging out of his mouth as he took on a brisk step to get him where he needed to go ASAP. 'Tch' he breathed, announce once again bubbling inside of him as the clouds overhead released their resevoir, pelting large droplets of water onto his head and the very important papers.
Bobby began to sprint. He covered the report under his arm, hoping his uniform, lined with yellow, would keep it dry enough. He reached his location, stepping inside two glass sliding doors and giving his hair a shake.
Grumbling to himself, his heavy boots clanked up the cement floors to a quaint, Victorian-esque house. It was in the worst part of town, where Bobby himself lived. He'd never remembered this particular place to be of interest, but the kid was somewhat impressed to see a dump like this held a PI's office.
Without so much as a knock, the apprentice opened the door, calling out a, "Hello?" As he did so. It didn't take Bobby long to find the Investigator's office, the instructions had been clear, after all. It even had a little map sketched on it, courtesy of his trainer.
He probably just thinks I'm an idiot.
Walking towards the office, the floor board underfoot creaked, and Bobby tripped into a wall. "Where are the fucking lights in this place?" He grumbled, feeling the rest of the way to the office before throwing the door open.
There, in the middle of the room, was a little girl. She was transparent, and, obviously, dead. "Uh... cool." Was the first thing he said, staring at the spirit without even looking for this so called Lachlan Fraiser.
There was a steady determination in Lachlan's eyes as he gazed over pages of tiny font that provided him with the information on one of his numerous cases. The file was about average, although, a majority of suspects were gradually getting removed from persistent investigating. Choices were narrowed down within moments as the various individuals that associated with justice gained a determination to solve the murder of a little girl. Naturally, the community was attempting to provide all possible information considering their intense sympathies for the family and their murdered child. Carefully, Lachlan ferried a warm cup of tea to his lips, draining the last morsels before placing it back onto the coaster. The reaper's eyes returned to his notes, mentally repeating the young girl's name.
Elizabeth Armstrong, a mere 9 years with short, black locks of hair and big, innocent eyes. There had been numerous crime scene photos, each analyzed by his observant eyes. They lacked direct conclusions to end the case, but the opportunity to discover the killer's identity remained a possibility. An extensive sigh escaped the investigator's lips as he gazed pensively over the erratic words written inside his personal notebooks. Any outsiders that gazed on the random words would find them rather useless, but the investigator remembered the meaning behind each. The numbers marked down were based in injuries and suspects, injuries possessing abbreviations while suspects was always a tiny number written in the corner; constantly erased and re-written when changes arrived. Small sentences formulated speculations and discoveries, checkmarks deducing correct statements from false ones; although, the notebook's lined paper was constantly ignored. When somebody caught a glimpse of his messy notes, they only viewed the random garble, unable to decipher the various abbreviations and made-up words that were worked into the investigator's mind.
Besides, the confusion occasionally stumped him which was another few moments spent fixating on work instead of his inner misery. After minutes of staring at the various notes, verifying statements and beliefs, the investigator silently rose from his dark wooden desk, notepad in hand. A glance was spared around the office before the reaper exited and began flicking down the light switches in a smooth process. It began with the furthest reaches of the house, Lachlan gradually working his way back towards his office. The door was closed, the reaper speedily walking towards one of the drawers where he grabbed several candles alongside their holders. Each light was arranged in a large circle before the lighter was fetched and flame sparked into existence.
With a steady hand, the wicks of each tall, wax pillar were lit, the flames quietly flickering from the tops of the candle. Once satisfied and assured that the candles would continue blazing, the investigator walked towards the light switch of his office and turned off the remaining lightbulb. The room was plunged into a muted darkness, the gentle flames from the candles acting as the only light source for the time being. With cautious steps, the reaper returned to the circle; the new eerie appearance of his office not bothering him. Gradually, he eased himself down in one end of the circle, crossing his legs as he stared at the distance candles. There was a brief moment taken to rub his eyelids as weariness insisted on rest instead of continuous working, however, Lachlan refused as usual. A deep breath was taken, the reaper bating it while he straightened his posture and rested his hands on his needs.
His eyes were shut when the air was released slowly, his mind clearing as he fixated on the objective. In his mind, he visualized the young Elizabeth Armstrong, fixating his magic on her. Summoning her from Purgatory was an unfortunate necessity considering the circumstances of the case. Quietly, he murmured the little girl's name and maintained a strength in his will. When the reaper's eyes opened, a young girl radiating a blueish glow sat with her knees to her chest on the other side of the circle. There were tears that dribbled from her eyes, leaving lines of wet while she stared at him.
"W-who are you? She inquired anxiously.
There was a hesitation from the investigator as he steadied his tired mind. Days of restlessness had resulted in Lachlan finding difficulty in focusing himself.
"A friend who wants to help you, okay?" He began softly. "You don't have to worry, I am all alone, see?"
The investigator gestured to the room around him, the little girl's eyes flitting around in response. There was a tension that remained obvious in the air, Lachlan's ghostly guest finding difficulty relaxing given the circumstances. A few moments of silence passed, the reaper attempting to appear friendly.
"Okay... b-but wh-why am I here?" She spoke in a nervous squeak.
"I want to find the person who hurt you, Elizabeth, but I need your help. That way we can lock him up," Lachlan responded, maintaining a soft facade.
From years of mistreatment, the investigator rarely allowed for true warmth and gentleness to slip into his voice. Faking those emotions was only a necessity during delicate interactions; besides, how could he simply trust anybody? People were twisted and evil and oftentimes only cared for themselves; his life in Omaha made it obvious. There was a countenance of fear etched into the girl's face as the tears increased.
"I don't want to talk about it!" She screamed, the surrounding's reacting.
There was a flickering in the candles and rustling from the papers on the desk, almost as though a faint breeze had entered the office. Seancing a spirit against their will allowed them to cross into the living plane of existence for a brief moment. During these instances, the surroundings could be affected by their emotions which naturally became a concern for the summoner on most occasions. The reaper appeared unphased by the sudden reaction as he managed to maintain a calm vestige.
"It's alright," he began softly. "But I need the information. That way I can protect other people from the meanie, right?"
It was an attempt to level with the spirit in hopes the information would be provided. There was silence as Lachlan watched the girl's face change, displaying a sense of responsibility in sharing. The investigator grabbed his pencil, preparing for the possibility of answers until the door slammed open. The reaper tensed in surprise, his eyes immediately flitting towards the door where they noticed the apprentice scout; the darkness made it difficult to distinguish details. When his eyes returned to the girl's, they were wide with fear before she narrowed them at him.
"LIAR! YOU SAID WE WERE ALONE!" She screamed, her voice possessing upset tones.
There was already panic entering the reaper's eyes as the wind increased, knocking a few papers from the desk. The situation was becoming transforming into a horrible one quickly.
"I swear, they weren't-" the reaper attempted to defend himself, but the girl suddenly screamed.
The loud pitched scream entered the air, forcing Lachlan to cover his ears while the candles were extinguished and the papers thrown around the office. For an instant, his eyes closed, and when the wind ceased they opened to notice the girl was gone. Irritation touched the investigator's face while his gaze returned to the newcomer.
"Thank-you for your wonderful performance in frightening her away," Lachlan muttered sarcastically.
With an annoyed huff, he rose from the floor, narrowing avoiding the candles while he crossed the room, flicking the light switch and pouring light back into the room. Attempting to summon her again was futile given the current situation, but the reaper planned to try again after granting Elizabeth a few moments to calm down. For a moment, Lachlan's eyes remained fixated on the light switch before glancing at the disorganized mess his office had transformed into.
"Now, why exactly are you disrupting me?" He inquired in an emotionless tone. "Most individuals wait outside and don't simply barge in after all."
Finally, his gaze returned to the teenager who interrupted the seance, although, found himself surprised. For a few moments, the investigator's hazel eyes lingered on the apprentice. While he would refuse to admit, the adolescent was surprisingly attractive; unfortunately, stunning looks would not provide enough defence against the mild anger that flickered behind the investigator's eyes. He despised interruptions, especially during delicate moments like dealing with a murdered little girl.
Do not use drama to get attention in the chat. Nobody appreciates it.
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A Chatango account is not required, but it is encouraged.
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You may use the in-character chat prior to acceptance.
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Be respectful to anybody who enters the chat, including guest, fellow members and staff.
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Guests may speak in chat at anytime to ask questions or get a taste of our community~!
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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.
