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!
[attr="class","game"] 791 words for @namehere notes
[attr="class","kikan"]
“
The evening had remained a lengthy and restless night for Clyde. There was a new moon during the night, thus the lycanthrope gained the fortune of being unable to transform without control, but cursed with a drain on his abilities. The realization was exploited by the Assembly, who demanded he arrived to work through the evening on the sick and injured. The summoning had been sudden, leaving the redhead with a limited amount of time to sleep and prepare for work. Furthermore, the doctor's vehicle was being repaired after some strange noises began abruptly being made. It resulted in a long, tiresome walk into the outskirts to work for extensive hours on the numerous patients supplied by the Assembly. There was fortune in being capable to have a small nap before venturing out in the early hours of the morning.
Slowly, Clyde walked with a weariness in his eyes and shuffle to his steps. His red hair was more dishevelled than usual while his professional clothing had a minor disarray. Flecks of dirt touched his white dress shirt, the vest being spared as a result of its dark shade. There was a collection of dirt on the cuffs of the man's pants from accidentally stepping in a few puddles on his desperate run to get to work. Smudges coated the lenses of his thin-rimmed glasses, thankfully, they were barely visible for passerbys. The morning itself was cold with a chilling wind blowing through the buildings, the lycanthrope fortunate to possess his temperature regulating charm; he nearly forgot it last night. Clouds speckled the sky, a majority dark and suggesting the arrival of rain once they gathered. The people who passed by dressed accordingly, Clyde noticing their warmer clothes alongside strange countanences at his untidy appearance. The gazes made the lycanthrope self-conscious as he continued weaving his way hastily through the outskirts.
Normally, he would be properly dressed, displaying a pleasant and clean appearance considering his affiliation in the medical world. An extensive amount of time would have been taken towards preparations if the Assembly had managed to contact him sooner, although, the benevolent man remained unable to blame them. What if the sudden requirement of medical personal was unexpected? There could have been inadequate phone service in the vicinity or another medic could have fallen ill and needed to be taken home for proper rest and relaxation. There was an endless amount of reasons for the delayed phone call that Clyde could think of, ultimately defending the individuals who abruptly interrupted his sleep. As he continued walking, the large man shoved his hands into his pockets in a futile attempt to create a professional composure despite his dishevelled appearance. The lycanthrope glances around, noticing some of the buildings that remained in poor condition; they were common within the outskirts.
Oftentimes, criminals conducted their occupations within this section of Lorsette, but Clyde never thought about the possibility of illegal activity. Everybody who passed by him received a weak smile as tiredness began infecting his expressions. Slowly, he continued, never wondering about the questionable appearances of the occasional citizens who hurried by. The lycanthrope's eyes wandered, curious about the outskirts from lack of familiarity; he usually limited his amount of time here, even managing to convince Assembly patients to meet him in the wilderness where lurking eyes were fewer. The gradual moving through the outskirts was continued, the lycanthrope beginning to feel an increase in his weariness. A gentle sigh escaped his mouth as he paused by an allyway, his eyes glancing down the dark and damp place between a pair of buildings. Dumpsters and boxes littered the area, a wooden fencing being a backing to it.
The large man paused at the threshold, eyes searching in a strange curiosity at this place. As he continued scanning, he noticed the green moss that settled in the shaded sections, up against one of the buildings. It suggested a consistent dampness, shortly proven as he noticed a rain barrel obscured by the numerous boxes. Timidly, Clyde took a few steps inside, wondering what other life forms could enjoy the moist allyway. The lycanthrope's eyes travelled, noticing the mixture of cement and stone that formed the allyway. There were pieces of grass poking through the cracks in the stony floor, pleading for sunlight as they reached towards the skies above. A few smaller plants remained hidden within the darkness, desperately hiding from the sun. Inside the rain barrel were small water boatman bugs that swam across the surface before hiding within the murky depths of their watery realm. A few moments were taken to watch the beetles in faint curiosity until the lycanthrope was startled by the sound of movement, the large man tensing in fright.
The young man reopened his eyes, finding himself leaned over a table flourishing with finely embroidered greenery. A hand was rested upon the firm yet soft green surface, index and thumb forming a ring around the long stick he grasped with a firm grip.
Ahh… back at it again, hehe. Yeah, got my whore ass on the stakes here. Nothing to lose! I can do this.
The only balls on the table were the eight ball, the white ball, and a single striped ball. The young man was fond of stripes, so it was easy to presume this ball was his… which meant his opponent was ahead of him by a ball. Nonetheless, he was optimistic that he could turn this around.
Around him, men who looked to range between the ages of 25-35 watched him intently with big cheeky grins plastered onto their features. It was the type of shit eating grin you’d find on only the most confidently narcissistic people. He cast a glance to them before proceeding to line up his shot.
Heh, they won’t be grinning like that when I pocket this ball—
Suddenly, big burly hands grabbed him by the waist, slamming him down against the table. It startled him so badly that he dropped the stick, flattening himself against the table submissively.
“W-What are you doing?!” he frantically asked, leering at them and puffing his cheeks poutily. It was then that he had realized that the men had no face visible to him. Shade obscured the top half of their faces, giving off an anonymity that estranged him from them.
“What ya jabberin’ ya little shit? Ya lost the game!” a voice boomed gleefully, and another hand turned his head back towards the table to feast upon the sight of one miserable striped ball sitting alone on the tabletop. The youth’s eyes widened in awe. There was no room for words, as a yelp fled him when he next discovered that his worn shorts had been ripped down from his hips, revealing him in all his dishonorable glory.
“Now, it looks like our balls are the only ones you’re gonna play with tonight!” An uproar of laughter followed, and the men closed in on him without his capability to argue or consent.
The imagery melted out of place from then on, and he found himself jostled awake by the experiences of his nightmare. He had struck his head against the brick wall behind him when he had sat up, knocking him down flat once more into a nest of newspaper.
Axel felt only numbness throughout his body, accompanied by a violent siege of numbing pins digging into every pore of his flesh. The coolness of the evening had chilled him to the bone from overexposure, and guiding his groggy eyes to his own form, he could now see why. The only fabric aside from the sleeveless tank top that covered his body was that of the thin fur which coated his black tail, spiraled around his body in desperate attempt to sanctify it with warmth- to no avail.
Disturbingly, he took note of the dried blood leaking down his legs, yet there were no wounds visible to him. This was a common sight to him, but nonetheless was it nauseating to think about. So he averted his eyes to rest of his body and looked for any newer looking bruises and scratches amongst the field of past marks on his frail flesh.
“... brr… *hic*...” he vented gas that had been trapped within him for the hours prior to his manic drinking, as evident by the amount of bottles littered around him. It was the clearest picture you could possibly paint of a drunkard whose attempting to escape reality, and yet there was a far deeper story to this drunkard than the naively critical common mind could narrate.
A whimper fled his throat, sharp pointed black ears folding back upon his head in a futile attempt toward off the pounding headache, and next his arms tightly embraced him albeit feebly to warm himself. Unfortunately, little progress was being made. “Why am I so cold…? o-ought to make a fire…” he murmured beneath his breath. Despite that, his body didn’t move any more to take action; or perhaps it ached to much to do so.
The drunken male was far too weak to even sense the approach of a large being, trespassing his small pitiful cove for the day until someone would throw him out or take him away with ill intent. In small torches, Axel spat flares of flame into his cupped hands, barely capable of being called flame.
[attr="class","game"] 786 words for @namehere notes here
[attr="class","kikan"]
“
The noises continued, Clyde's eyes fixating as a cat scurried out of the alleyway. He watched the calico flee, sighing with relief from the lack of potential threat; a dark alleyway on a cold day reminded him of horror movies. There were a few moments spent witnessing the feline leave, the lycanthrope preparing to follow suit. The delicate nature of his hearing alerted the male towards another presence as he turned around, venturing deeper into the alleyway. The sounds of hiccups, whimpers and the faint sounds of murmured words narrowly reached the lycanthrope's ears as he continued down the moss-covered alleyway. The large male's eyes searched, noticing the bottles that littered the innards of the alleyway. Upon entry, the doctor's eyes darted around the surroundings, following the trail of beer bottles with a faint curiosity towards the source of the noise. The feeble voice who murmured the words sparked concern, the lycanthrope's kind nature compelling him forward.
"Excuse me? Is somebody here?" He inquired softly.
Footsteps were light, Clyde exploring the alleyway, nose managing to smell the various scent. The strong, ugly scents of alcohol enriched the location, accompanied by garbage alongside a familiar scent. There were numerous moments were the intense, metallic scent would disturb the intense cleanly atmosphere. Blood, the iron smell reaching the lycanthrope's nostrils and automatically placing the benevolent man on edge; an instinctual reaction from the wolf within. The steps hastened, Clyde, searching for the injury or the unfortunate victim of death's cruel embrace; either way, somebody could require his assistance! After passing by a stack of boxes, his bright green eyes shortly locating the injured individual. Immediately, they widened as the lycanthrope fixated on the unfortunate young man surrounding by several bottles of liquor as he nestled in old newspapers against a brick wall.
The scent of alcohol was condensed in the location, validating any suspicions of the mysterious, young man being a drinker. Sparks of flame lit through the ravenette's hands, appearing to be a desperate attempt to gain some definition of warmth from the frigid winds. Blood was evident down the poor creature's legs, displaying the possibility of injury or something beyond the notion, although, there were no visible wounds. Various scratches adorned the young man, Clyde flinching at the unfortunate condition as he began pitying the drunken male. Exposure was obvious by the desperate attempts to retain heat, bringing a gentleness to the large man's eyes. Slowly, the lycanthrope stepped towards the man, kneeling to get a better survey of the individual. Clothing was limited, Clyde managing to notice that the young man merely possessed a meagre tanktop that covered his torso. Witnessing the individual's misfortune tugged at the redhead's heartstrings as he continued analyzing.
"You seem like you need some help," Clyde murmured. "How about you come with me? I can help you."
Afterwards, the lycanthrope offered his hand towards the stranger, thoughtless towards any possible danger. Benevolence intermingled with naivety, Clyde becoming confident to assist the individual despite his appearance. There was nobody else around displaying a willingness to assist a complete stranger and Clyde was already aware the guilt would gnaw through him should he continue walking. Ignoring the young man during these cold temperatures was risking the possibility of him dying from exposure on the streets. The lycanthrope was always inclined to assist the misfortunate, his natural kindness sometimes making him the victim of the more sinister with a frightening ease. There were thoughts taken towards what exactly Clyde could accomplish at the moment, his green eyes flitting around and noticing the bracelet. A temperature regulating charm, a piece of magic that could defend the unfortunate male from exposure.
Momentarily, Clyde withdrew his hand, slipping off the bead bracelet that ringed his large wrist. It dangled from his fingers, the doctor offering the unfortunate man a friendly smile to attempt to gain trust. Wounds, sickness or general weakness resulted in wary patients and the lycanthrope desired to destroy those walls of mistrust; it made progression towards a healthier condition smoother. The bracelet was shifted into Clyde's large hand, offering the piece of jewellery to the man.
"Here, put this around your wrist. It regulates temperature, so you can start feeling a bit better, okay? Then once we are somewhere safe, I can get you bundled up," the lycanthrope offered.
Benevolence touched the large man's voice as he continued smiling, attempting to make himself appear less intimidating; his protruding lower teeth accidentally accomplished that at times. There were prayers sent that Clyde could manage to earn the small man's trust, the desire to help began to orbit through his mind; somebody needed to help people, individuals who met the cold hand of misfortune.
Sputtering weak tendrils of flame into his hand had already been taxing on his lack of strength, being so pathetically inept at this hellish power of his. Coldness wasn’t healthy for a hellhound, and even more so in this vulnerable, miserable state. Weariness compelled his body to slowly ease back down, eyes half closing and fighting the temptation to submit to slumber in order to escape these insufferable conditions. Headache, nausea, dysphoria, lack of consciousness, low temperature, illness. A entity coming into his sight had reeled him back from slipping under another spell, instead dilating his eyes considerably and making him attempt to push himself up with his chill-bitten arms and arch a brow at the man. “Aw, not again… leave a piece of shit be, why don’t ya? You already used my ass and tossed me aside three times, isn’t that enough? Street boys are all the same… if you want it, gotta win it in a *hic* wager or somethin…” he slurred in contest to his assumptions of the strange, large man in a overly bold manner despite the vast size difference between them. The hound’s drunken condition made it barely possible for him to fully register the the entirety of their words, nor the intent and meaning behind them. His interpretation was the echo of past experiences; and as a result, he scoffed and hiccuped in response, slowly raising a hand and nudging the other’s with the back of his palm. “Ha… oldest trick in the *hic* book, big boy… been there, done that. It’s not gonna work on me… not again,” he chuckled at the other’s “attempt” mockingly. “What is it ya want, huh? Let’s make a deal… food and *hic* *gulp* shelter for a good time. None of that bullshit where you tap and toss me out with a sore body either,” he mumbled, with a pitiful grin on his lips. The clicking of beads against one another caught his full attention, and before he knew it, a piece of jewelry made up of eerie beads had been held out to him kindly in offer. Despite his condition, the power emanating from this accessory was noticeable to an inhuman being such as himself; especially as a canid spawn of hell. “B… beads…?” he slurred in inquiringly. It was to be expected that a cheeky smile spread his lips in good humor. “What.. shove them up my ass— oh… you sure about that? I remember somethin’ *hic* like these before and they… rendered my wrists useless and my arms vulnerable… some kinky shit ya know? Was a fucked up move…” he explained in lack of better wording or censorship, clearly having no shame in the revelation of his past experiences or the themes of sexual content. Gullibly, he reached out and took the beads into his hand only to to freeze in place from the shock of the magical power flowing into him and asserting its properties. The quivering had a receded effect on his muscle functions, and was far less potent than it was before. For once in a few hours, a warm deep breath fled his nose accompanied by a lackly controlled puff of flame and smoke. His fluffy, pointed and ebony tail had loosened it’s coil. The bracelet slid onto his arm the rest of the way, and his body relaxed against the cold alley pavement. “Mmm… you were right, ahaha… mmm I guess I’ll be stupid and let you have your way, heehee…” he murmured in drunken glee, rolling over onto his back and attempting to push himself up very briefly until he suddenly collapsed back down, submerging into darkness once more. His body was far too weak from his poor condition.
[attr="class","game"] 916 words for @namehere I have permission for the following power-plays. Feel free to mention if something is an issue, Azzy!
[attr="class","kikan"]
“
Helping a stranger was a necessity in Clyde's book, his naive demeanour oftentimes resulting in his outrageous kindness being taken advantage of. The lycanthrope's soft eyes continued flirting across the body of this unfortunate soul he discovered. Similar to clockwork, his superior senses managed to notice the distinct scent of hellhound amidst the intense stench of booze. He remained in a crouched position, being aware his large body type occasionally frightened others. Patiently, he awaited a respond with positive intentions supporting his benevolent actions. The mission was simple, lull the patient with trust before carefully transporting them to his cottage for proper treatment alongside some pleasantly warm food. There seemed to be a pause to Clyde as he stared, a grin stretching the corners of his lips upwards while worry subtly touched his vibrant green eyes. Suddenly, the stranger's crude assumptions shifted the doctor's entire expression.
Fair coloured skin developed a deep tint of red, Clyde's entire face being enveloped in red. Eye contact became impossible as the lycanthrope glanced away bashfully in surprise to the libidinous assumption. The stranger he desired to assist thought he was merely a dishevelled man searching to bed a vulnerable young man. There was only an instance of wonder towards the possibility of this individual failing to comprehend his words; he did smell of alcohol after all. There were scoffs and hiccups while his hand was nudged away, the man continued to speak in slurs while he accomplished the action. Each word resulted in Clyde's face tinting a darker shade of red in response. The offering was not tempting towards the lycanthrope but nonetheless embarrassed him immensely. He desired to assist without the exchange of sexual favours!
"Uhhh, umm. It-it's not like that! You look horrible and I just want to help," the large man sputtered out hastily.
The offering of the of the bracelet resulted in another series of shameless remarks, the hues of red on Clyde's face growing more radiant against his fair flesh. There were no naughty intentions that accompanied the offering of the wooden bead bracelet, the dull coloured spheres roped across a string merely being a useful magical item. The relaxing of the stranger's body was mildly soothing, proving the positive effects of the bracelet as it heated the poor individual. Afterwards was the vague offering of dirtier intentions, the lycanthrope being lost for words; everything he said could not convey the notion of his pure benevolence. When the stranger collapsed, Clyde jumped in surprise before leaning closer to analyze the body. It appeared the man's weak condition resulted in him fainting. Concern began breaching the lycanthrope's calm expression as he pulled the stranger closer.
Slowly, he wriggled off the black vest to cover the hellhound's nether regions before picking him up from the ground. Clothing could be washed, but a person could not recover without proper care and medicine! One of the lycanthrope's muscular arms kept a firm grip around the small man while the other fetched his phone from the depths of the dress pant's pocket. He dialled a several numbers, requesting the assistance of a friend while he continued walking to a more discernable location from the expansive streets of the outskirts. People passed by, their eyes curious towards the strange lycanthrope holding an unconscious boy in a horrible condition. Promptly, the vehicle arrived, the chariot to escort them into the cusp of the wilderness, where the trees just condensed and a home was placed. His friend provided a bewildered countenance, inquiries shortly following to which Clyde gave vague answers to avoid possible trouble for whisking this homeless man from the streets.
The drive home was extensive, but Clyde used the opportunity to analyze the young hellhound still cradled in his large arms. Slowly, the lycanthrope exited, walking towards his home and opening the door before gently closing it behind him. There were numerous tasks to accomplish to assist in the recovery of his visitor. The temperature regulation charm solved the coldness, but he required to clean the young man up, get him rested in a proper bed and provide a healthy dish to allow for proper recovery! Sorting out some possible medication to assist the healing process was another thought in Clyde's mind, the lycanthrope already thinking through his herbal medicines. First, he whisked the man towards the washroom to cleanse his grimy skin within the warm waters with a clean cloth. He settled the hellhound gently into the soapy water, making certain the temperature was proper before proceeding.
Once the dirt was cleaned, he managed to dry the unconscious young man before picking him up in large arms. A broad grin remained on Clyde's face as he continued working on the natural requirements of his occupation. The hellhound was settled onto the bed, the lycanthrope wrapping him in blankets, going the length to fetch a clean glass of water to place onto the bedside table. When there was a certainty to his company being settled comfortably, the doctor exited the room, softly closing the door before heading towards his bedroom to change. The dishevelled appearance was replaced with a cleaned up display, even going the length to switch to fresh clothing. Shortly, he ventured into the kitchen to gather water into a large pot with plans to make a dinner for his guest. Water was placed into the metallic container before he placed it onto the stove, heating it up while he assembled the ingredients to make a healthy soup.
A groan bellowed from the maw of the hellhound, making his emergence from unconsciousness relevant to all things around him; additionally, making known pain and discomfort from his afflicted, battered, and expended body. “Here we go again...” he exclaimed begrudgingly, followed by a grunt as he sat up on his elbows, glimpsing into the smeared nothingness of the room. “Where… who… who did I fuck this time?” he bluntly asked the blurry canvas, that slowly began to come into clear focus. From what he could tell, the tenant must be far more fortunate than he or any of his clientele ever have been. The decor beheld a tastefulness than any other home environment he has experienced; likely since oftentimes he’s been invited only into the backroom of a casino, a drug house, halfway house, brothel and back alleys. All were drought of warm welcoming as well. An eye winced defensively in response to the splitting shocks that branched from his temples throughout his head. Excessive consumption of alcohol was far too familiar to him, yet he could never get completely used to the destructive toll the aftermath took on his body. Perhaps it was due to the malnutrition and health deficiency he suffered lately. The hound had just so happened to look over to finally grasp a friendly offering. A glass of water was generously placed upon the bedside table, conveniently within arms length. To most hellhounds, this may be taken as mockery seeing as water was a mortal enemy to his kin. Axel, not being in tune with his race and therefore not partaking in the general attitude, instead found this to be an act of convenience. After all, he was parched. The male reached over and grabbed the glass, and practically inhaled it’s contents. Water in quantities this small was of no disbenefit to his kin, and was a good source of hydration nonetheless. Axel’s ears poked up then, and he sniffed the air. The smell of a canid being stuck to the air like a musk. There was no wiping such a scent from a keen-nosed being like him. A beast, greater than him, resided in this domain. An anxiety built up in the hellhound. To him, this territory was marked by another dog. It was unfamiliar and claimed, therefore he could be considered a trespasser. It was instinctual to feel a concern, or a sensation of unbelonging. In bated discomfort, he slipped out of bed… or at least attempted to. The frailty of his legs and the splitting pain of his rear end had caused him to collapse onto his knees painfully, and utter out a whimper. “This… is not good…” he murmured to himself in as calm as a tone as possible, as he was not one to panic so easily when faced with possible danger, plight or misfortune. Axel’s eyes squeezed shut in response to a pulse of pain that originated from his ass, and sent shocks throughout his form. “I-I… must have gotten messed up good from that last group of guys I lost to…” he admitted shamefully, smiling in good humor at this inconvenience he was so well acquainted with. Already, Axel was wishing to be drunk off his ass once more simply to escape the idea that he could be in danger for the millionth time in his life. Hopefully, wherever this was, there was alcohol or cigarettes he could put to good use. That thought encouraging him, he had attempted to lift himself up once more only for his body to reject him and toss him against the flood once more. This time, he was sprawled out weakly with no strength to even want to pick himself up. "Ah... whatever I guess... no getting out of this," he mumbled.
The pleasant scent of stew boiling in the kitchen consumed Clyde as he gleefully continued cooking for the newest guest within his quaint cottage. There were already thoughts taken towards how he could possible obtain suitable clothing alongside a possible diet to restore the young man's health. Admittedly, the doctor's intense innocence towards the world was consuming him as he fantasized assisted his guest to perfect health so he could enjoy world in pristine condition. A few more spices alongside some vegetables to mix into the broth with the meat. The scent travelled through the house, Clyde grinning with content as he continued his cooking, the once boring pot now festering with numerous delights. As the temperature rose and the stirring ceased momentarily, he poured a ladle full into a porcelain bowl. A spoon was grabbed from the nearby drawer, the man tasting his creation to make certain it was adequate for his healing guest. The taste covered his mouth, Clyde nodding to himself with approval for his latest dish.
Slowly, his large hand reached to decrease the stove's temperature while he waited for his guest to wake. A moment was spared to begin the necessary laundry, the washing machine beginning to fill with water while he dumped the soap and clothing into the large mouth. Afterwards, the lid was closed and the home continued to bustle with activity. The lycanthrope exited the laundry room, his hearing hindered by the noises of the washing machine. Everything appeared to be progressing with marvellous smoothness, resulting in the smile remaining stretched across the doctor's face. When he returned to the kitchen, the vague sounds of whimpering finally reached his powerful ears. Immediately, his eyes widened as the lycanthrope hastily crossed his quaint home and entered the guest bedroom. The door swung open with force, smacking loudly into the door stop as Clyde began analyzing the room. On the bedside table was a drained glass, the bed itself now empty and the patient sprawled onto the unforgiving floor.
Concern touched the redhead's face as he approached, reaching out to assist his poor patient. How could he carelessly leave them defenceless?! The action was sinful considering the young man's poor state of health! Witnessing the young man sprawled on the floor made Clyde's heart sink into his stomach; he felt guilty. It consumed him despite his intentions being entirely benevolent towards the young man.
"Oh goodness! Are you alright?" Clyde began, inquiring about the man's well-being. "You should not be leaving your bed in this condition! It is dangerous to alone. If you require exercise I can be of assistance."
There were numerous prayers that the doctor would not fall victim to the crude language of his guest. Being offered... those types of favours only generated an awkwardness that was difficult to fend off. The only goal that Clyde possessed was assisting the unfortunate young man who became the victim of the side effects of homelessness. He desired to provide nourishment and a safe place to rest until the stranger discovered stability. The lycanthrope's numerous years spent on earth resulted in his naive desires to provide the best lives he could of those he encountered; familiarity being an unimportant matter.
"Let me help you into bed, then I can bring you something to eat. You could definitely use it," Clyde stated.
There was hope the offering of food could sway his patient into listening to his commands. Slowly, the lycanthrope reached towards the stranger, a friendly smile on his countenance; he merely wanted to help! There was nothing wrong in displaying kindness to an unfortunate stranger and assisting for a healthier lifestyle, right?
The door had suddenly flew open, whipping away a gust of suspense which froze Axel where he was. A big man stood at the doorway, at the very least a foot taller than him, with shoulders so broad he questioned if the frame of the door had been custom-built to accommodate him. Every part of him seemed to bulge in one way or the other (he was looking mainly at the perkiness of his bits) and Axel had no doubts that should he make a wrong move, he could be possibly decimated with hands and arms alone rather than any magical twist. “Wh— whoa… you’re a big dude… no wonder I’m hurtin' right now…” he commented incredulously, shrinking away a bit in apprehension. Axel has seen, and ‘performed’ with, many people of ludicrously large stature and builds but this one certainly adds a new meaning to the term ‘giant’. The man was moved by his current condition and position, rousing his what sounded like concern for his well-being. Axel was completely silent as he went on asking him about his well-being and correcting him for leaving the bed too early, and offering his assistance if needed. This was a change of pace and events for the young hound, so much that he had held his breath as he mulled over what catches could lie unspoken until it’s too late; and even awaited for something disappointing to be added on, or for him to awaken in some god-forsaken place. Yet the pulsing pain in his head and the soreness in his rear end and thighs had been too clear a sensation for him to argue that this was reality. There was long pause between the massive stranger offering a hand and him actually responding to a single thing they had said. What was happening again? “... u-uh…” he hesitated to even begin, with a nervous smile on his face. “... where did we meet, what did I owe you, and did I fulfill your needs again?” he finally asked in counter to everything that flew out their mouth. It was as though he hadn’t even been paying attention, which was half true as he had been taken aback by even the slightest tinge of worry in their voice. After all, sympathy and care was not a kindness he had experienced often if any at all. “... ah… sorry… I have to keep track, ya know? I owe a lot to many people, and when they come knocking for what they want, I gotta give ‘em something— unless I didn’t owe them anything at all. In that case, I’m the one that needs payment. Is all this”— he gestured to the bed, the water and the roof— “in exchange for my… services?” he asked him, taking his hands delicately with his own. By the frail feeling of his hand, it was rather obvious that he wasn’t fortunate enough to get much to fill his stomach.
There was concern written across Clyde's entire countenance as he entered the bedroom and discovered his patient on the floor. Assisting his unfortunate patient was a necessity, thus why the lycanthrope hastily moved to assist the stranger. The innocent intent allowed him to hear the small man's comment about the pain. In response, Clyde innocently raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly what the dark-haired stranger could mean. The doctor pushed his glasses up with his index finger while he curiously gazed at his patient; how did he inflict pain? A thought shortly occurred to Clyde as he shock touched his face at the thought of administering his medical techniques could have accidentally resulted in his patient feeling these pains! He was large, and despite the arrival of the new moon, the lycanthrope retained an incredible amount of strength from his bulky muscle mass.
"Did I... did I harm you when I was helping you? I apologize, it was completely unintentional!" The large man responded.
Unfortunately, he remained unaware of the libidinous presumptions the stranger was holding because of his recent associations; even the sexual flirting from prior failed to make the realization arrived. There was always a naive nature to Clyde, oftentimes resulted in naughtier affairs rarely gracing the presence of his intellectual mind. The desire to help this stranger was dominating the lycanthrope's mind as he kept his hand extended, offering to assist the young man back into the comfortable bed. Silently, his eyes scrutinized the small form, noticing his particularly thin stature (especially in comparison to Clyde's bulky frame), his mind even remembering the faded scratched he noticed when cleaning the man's skin. Based on his overal physical condition, the doctor could only imagine the hell the stranger survived through; and yet, Clyde had seen worse at Lorsette General Hospital.
There was a pause, Clyde listening to the stranger's questions, his brow lifting in confusion. For a few more moments, his innocence warded away those dirtier thoughts until finally, the lycanthrope remembered the flirtatious comments he received upon meeting the man. Instantly, the larger man's face was engulfed in red as he bashfully glanced away, his thoughts muddled by such concepts.
"N-no! It is nothing like that," he insisted. "You were hurt, I couldn't leave you in that alleyway!"
The lycanthrope explained hastily, his words exploding from his mouth faster than expected. A delicate hand was shortly in his large palm, Clyde assisting the young man to his feet. The redness remained on the doctor's face as he continued assisting his newest patient towards the comfortable bed.
"I merely wished to assist you, I promise," he responded sheepishly. "I am Clyde by the way. Now, you get settled and I will go fetch you some food."
A sheepish grin crawled onto the large man's face, embarrassment still evident by the sheer redness of his complexion. The lycanthrope took a moment to glance around the room, noticing the empty glass; he could get the stranger come more water too. All Clyde desired to do was assist this man after all.
The redness that monopolized the man’s face was too precious of a sight for him not to grin cheekily at. It was something he didn’t get to see on someone often when they are addressed in the same shamelessness he uses for everyone, mainly because the people he generally deals with are either snobby and therefore express disgust, or are vulgar and react inappropriately. Yet, this hulking man had a different reaction entirely— almost child-like, reflecting a sort of innocence. This a nice change… he thought to himself, as a seemingly effortless tug of his arm had reeled him in like a fish from a pond onto his feet. “I guess… I didn’t service you at all, huh? That’s a start,” he said, crawling into bed with the help of the ginger giant. “Usually, I’m used before I’m given something in return or even just banged and tossed right aside like a tissue. Heh, I ain’t complaining.” The man appeared, sounded and acted earnest. But of course, Axel couldn’t completely throw away the idea that there might be a catch to all of this hospitality that he’s showing him. After all, it was still too early to decide whether he were completely off the hook or not. Surely, there was more reason to his desire to provide him with this kind treatment. Axel slipped beneath the covered sloppily, still dizzy and nauseated from the pending hangover. With a breath of air, he dropped his head into the fluffy white pillow and closed his eyes with a smile. “Clyde, huh?” he reiterated their name a few times over in his head. The name was an intimidatingly brawny name, fitting for his build and stature yet so contrasting from the personality he was getting know so far. “Name’s Axel. Weird name right? Sounds like a pet name!” he humored himself lightheartedly. So soon, the man was intent on leaving him there in the room, while he’d go to retrieve food. Their statement had dilated the hellhound’s eyes in awe, and almost immediately a loud growl had rumbled his stomach with a sound simulating a aggravated canine. Food was something that Axel enjoyed beyond his obsession with alcohol and cigarettes due to the very little amount he gets to attain through safe, simple and charitable methods. Ears perked up and tail raised up high, point at the ceiling. “F-Food, you say? Really? For me?” he asked, tail tip whipping about excitedly and cheeks coloring a powdery-red. The male grinned, rubbing his hands together eagerly, thinking of many meals this man may have in thought for him. It was almost like a dream come true, this was how much food meant to him.
There were hints of red evident in Clyde’s face from the remarks the stranger made. The shamelessness held by the youthful hellhound was unexpected, the lycanthrope finding difficulties in replying to the dirty comments. It was becoming apparent what the stranger’s occupation was, although, questionable when it arrived at whether or not it was chosen. With ease, Clyde hoisted the hellhound to his feet, guiding him towards the comfortable safety of the bed. There was a mild relief once he settled the stranger amidst the soft blankets, tension easing once he became successful. The words the mysterious man stated while he assisted him into the bed resulted in blood rushing towards his cheeks, increasing the shade of red a few hues deeper. These vaguely inappropriate notions always resulted in a deep blossoming of red across the large man's face, his eyes bashfully fleeting away from the stranger. While he understood there were individuals who required to do those favours for a living, he never thought about the possibility of meeting one.
Admittedly, the description the hellhound provided resulted in Clyde feeling a pang of pity for the young man. The concept of ruthless men merely tossing him onto the street without providing proper payment left an ill feeling in the redhead's stomach. There appeared to be little compassion in the hearts of some individuals, which was something the lycanthrope prayed would change.
"Well, I would like to assist you in feeling better," he stated, genuineness in his voice. "I think everybody should be granted a chance at proper health."
There was benevolence behind each action, Clyde retrieving the glass from the bedside table with a cheerful grin. A pleasant warmth arrived to his heart as the bespectacled man glanced towards his patient, noticing the smile on his face. For the lycanthrope, merely witnessing the spectacle brought certainty that he was assisting the unfortunate young man. Names were exchanged, a common courtesy among people. Joy touched the large man's features as he became pleased over obtaining the name of his current guest.
"I think it is a perfectly fine name," he politely commented, a soft chuckle escaping his throat.
Despite the subtly of the noise, the delicate hearing of the lycanthrope managed to detect the rumbling of his guest's stomach while he appeared to perk up at the mere mentioning of food. The sudden excitement over a meal was frightening in a manner since it provided the answer for Axel's thin body. Without the proper nutrition, anybody could be condemned to poor health similar to this poor hellhound he brought home! The kindly doctor nodded to the questions, promptly exiting with the cup in hand. He turned down the hallway, returning to the small kitchen where he grabbed a tray. A bowl alongside some utensils were placed onto the metallic surface. The ceramic bowl was filled with warm stew, the delightful scent wafting towards his nostrils. A fresh glass of water was given a position on the tray, the lycanthrope even provided a whole-wheat bun for his patient to munch on. Once the gathering was completed, he slowly returned to the bedroom, balancing the tray on one of his massive hands. When he entered the room, a wide grin remained on his face.
The tray was placed onto the bedside table, the lycanthrope grabbing folded table from the foot of the bed. While he returned to his patient's bedside, he unfolded the plastic table and held the intention of moving the tray to it instead.
The hellhound didn’t think that the man would care so much as to make such a needless comment about his name. There was nothing special about it, other than it being a more common name for some poor “bad” dog likely used in dog fighting. Axel sometimes didn’t even like his own name because it suggested that he was a dog and only a dog, to be kicked around or petted like some lesser soul, or to be condemned to hell for being born as so.
Regardless, the male shrugged his shoulders dismissively and rubbed the back of his head without much idea how to take this sudden opinion. "Y-You think so huh...? Ah.. thanks. I appreciate it! I like your name too- it's fitting!" he claimed, offering a big toothy smile. "Gives off a... you know, big, strong feeling when you hear it"- he explained as he flexed his nonexistent biceps to exemplify what he was attempting to get across, while glazing his eyes across the other's body-"you know, brawny... ah, sorry. Don't know how to describe it."
When Clyde had left the room again, Axel had nothing else to do than eagerly wait for him to return with what he hoped would be food. In the meanwhile, he had sat up in a perch on his hands and knees, with his tail whipping at the air to and fro and occasionally slamming against the headboard. While he was distracted by the smell and idea of something to fill his stomach, the note of a particular stench hadn't left his head. The smell of an alpha male still lingered all over, and if he recalls correctly this alpha-like scent wafted from the hulking figure earlier. The man didn't appear as though they were anything canid like him. Perhaps the man cared for a dog?
At last, Clyde had returned with a bowl of stew in hand and sat it down on the bedside table first, and then upon a fold-out table for bedroom dining. If one would look closely, Axel was trembling with unexplainable amounts of excitement. The moment the food was seated down and the male moved away from the tray, he already had his legs hanging over the side of the bed and clasped his hands together in respect for the chef. "Yes, yes, yes! Thank you for the food!" he exclaimed quite loudly, before he had begun digging into the offer.
The hellhound was a beast when it came to eating. Quick spoonfuls were shoveled into his mouth indiscriminately of what made up the mixture, and he was sloppy yet not so messy as you'd think surprisingly showing he's quite accustomed to this mannerism of eating. Clearly, he was unrefined and informal in his consumption of food in front of others. Before he even knew it, he had already been draining the last remnants of the bowl with his lips to the rim of it.
Only after his shrunken stomach had been filled with warm, satisfying sustenance had he realized how improperly he had wolfed down what Clyde had so generously made for him. The male's cheeks became fired up, and he laughed sheepishly. "S-Sorry... it's been a while since I had eaten something so amazing- or even fresh. Thank you so much!" he thanked him again, rubbing his hands together and leaning back on his hands, swinging his legs idly. "So... what's your dog's name?" he asked curiously, sniffing the air simply to show why he asked.
There was a certain delight that Clyde could always discover in names, the naive lycanthrope being unaware of other implications; he merely fixated on the pleasant ring of Axel's name. It sounded excellent, prompting Clyde to provide his patient with a warm grin as he enjoyed his peculiar company. Despite the rocky and libidinous beginning to their interaction, a calmness had encompassed the large man after the possibility of inappropriate actions were dispelled, although, Clyde hoped they would not return. While this man was attractively small, he could only imagine the embarrassment he would feel being launched into that type of situation. The provided response was rewarding, his patience's toothy grin and difficulty in answering amusing the lycanthrope. There were no expectations for a compliment to be returned which resulted in surprise flashing across his expression. Shortly, it dissipated into a large grin as a hearty laugh rumbled in his throat because of the attempt for a polite response.
A majority stated his name was fitting on account of his rather massive form, although, those thoughts always arrived with surprised to Clyde's gentle nature. After being around for seven-hundred years, the lycanthrope had gotten adjusted to the similar compliments to his name.
"I understand," he responded, still grinning broadly. "I've heard the remark enough times to know."
When Clyde returned with the delectable bowl of stew, he was over-zealous to find his excited patient perched in bed awaiting the delivery of his food. A soft laugh escaped the lycanthrope as he settled the tray onto the table, before backing away to allow his patient to begin eating. The thanks were answered with a nod of acknowledgement, the large man content he could bring happiness to Axel. It always amazed Clyde how small things like food could bring an immense happiness to somebody, thus he enjoyed giving the food to his patient. Immediately, thoughts began whirling about other methods to assure the hellhound's comfort and happiness while he remained in his care. Witnessing large smiles on the faces of those who required medical assistance always made the doctor's days happy; it was the reason he placed effort into conversing with his any patients who appeared lonely before heading on his way. There were times he left an hour earlier for work to provide some with a pleasant conversation over a warm brew of tea.
Eventually, his thoughts were disturbed by the surprising sight of the small man hastily scarfing down every morsel of food. The lycanthrope watched with wide-eyes, unable to process how quick Axel could devour the meal. Despite the sloppy and mannerless method of consumption, mess was limited as he wolfed down eat bite of the freshly made food. Merely watching the hellhound gave Clyde the suspicion that the unfortunate man rarely received the pleasant curtesy of a well-made meal. An astonished lycanthrope continued the stare as Axel provided a sheepish laugh accompanied by an apology. After a few moments of staring, another chuckle arrived from the doctor as he provided his patient with a warm grin.
"I am just amazed you can eat that quickly," he stated, moving closer to stack the bowls. "Would you like some more? After that display, I am guessing you have a bigger appetite than I thought."
There was something peculiarly heart-warming when he watched somebody devour the provided meal with a frightening haste. Normally, patients would feebly shovel food into their mouths during his shifts at the hospital, but this young man appeared to be an interesting contrast to the group. While Clyde was already slow to anger, he found it especially difficult to be mad when Axel somehow managed to avoid creating a large mess during the consumption of the food. Slowly, the doctor made certain everything was on the tray before standing up fully with the tray steadied on one of his massive hands. The mentioning of a dog made the lycanthrope raise a brow in surprise.
"Dog? What dog?" He began, confused by the question.
The redhead has never owned a dog nor had his thoughts strayed towards the possibility of pets; despite this, he could always enjoy the brief company of animals. Considering his shifts at the hospital, the lycanthrope was hesitant to take animals under his care. There were entire nights where he would be working in the hospital, his charm keeping the inner beast tamed through magical enforcement. Although, Clyde was unaware that the hellhound had detected his scent and noticed the hints of canine odour that coated him.
The offer had struck Axel like a bat, and it had hit his heart into a home run. Very few times had he been offered a second serving of food when being generously given any serving at all, and this added on to that number. The hellhound did not need to ask, it was freely and openly offered to him. Axel's heart slammed against his chest excitedly, and his tail whipped about wildly thumping against the headboard, the bed and anything that so happened to be in it's line of fire. "S-S-S-... some more?!" he exclaimed, breath halted from how suddenly his energy surged. "A-are you sure? For real? There's more? I can have some?!" he proceeded in a stream of confirmations, practically bouncing where he sat. When deprived of good, fresh food as much as Axel has been, it was a blessing to be offered seconds by anyone and it was the most exciting thing in his life. The boy had a vast appetite that was not easily satiated. If he had the opportunity, he'd empty fridges of any food they had; even condiments, by simply adding them on to other dishes. Axel was respect if not mannerly though, and he would not take without being give or permitted... unless it were food that was just laying around in a closed store not being eaten. "You have no idea!" he replied to the comment as if being gluttonous were a trait to be entirely proud of. Axel had a way of making negative things sounds positive and enthusiastic to the point you wouldn't even access the bad part of it. "S-So... so... may I have some, yes? Some food? I'll do anything, yes I will, if I must!" The hound was on his knees upon the bed, leaning forward so far it was a wonder how he was not falling onto his face. The friction his tail made with the air began to ignite a tiny flame on the point of his ebony-furred tail. Clyde appeared taken aback when he was inquired on about his dog, drawing bewilderment from the stray. "No... dog?" he repeated his words, tilting his head in disbelief. The scent of canine was all over, yet he supposed there was something odd about it since... the man was simply oozing the smell as though he were the source. "Are you sure that you don't have a dog"- he sniffed at the air as an expression of his point-"the smell of some kinda dog is everywhere... don't take it personally, but it actually seems to be coming off of you somehow."A finger hesitantly and weakly guided itself in Clyde's direction in gesture to present his claim. However, Axel dismissed it with a shrug. He was merely curious, and tended to ask a lot of questions or seek answers simply to become more fond of others."Either way! Hey, I don't feel right getting this good treatment without at least giving you something... isn't there anything I can do? Any weird things you're into?" he asked, arching a brow at him with only the cheekiest of smirks on his face. At this point, he was teasing Clyde, knowing he'd get some flustered reaction from him as he had every other time he made an advance.
There was a broad grin on Clyde's face as he offered Axel additional food. The sight of the hellhound’s tail rapidly wagging, thumping against the wooden headboard was an amusing sight. It was absolutely delightful and it warmed the lycanthrope's heart that somebody was extremely excited over their cooking. The cooking skills Clyde possesses were adequate for pleasant homemade dishes, but he admittedly felt it was full compared to the flavours of restaurant cooked cuisines. While he wished to improve his skills, Clyde’s abilities in the kitchen remained average due to the constant distraction of work. Being called in abruptly and working long hours oftentimes resulted in the redhead being unable to improve his cooking prowess. At this moment, however, Clyde could feel flattered over the intense desire Axel held for more. Pleasing his patient with merely good food was a pleasantry to the doctor, considering it was something simple and not demanding. There had been other patients who would be rather uncooperative should they not received everything they desired. Those types of patients were oftentimes the sort expecting luxury in even health care.
The inquiry towards receiving more food was met with light-hearted chuckles from Clyde. The hellhound’s apparent affinity for food was rather endearing to the lycanthrope, although, he considered himself bias on account of the limited audience searching for his cooking.
“Of course you can have more! I can fetch you some more water as well, you must be quite dehydrated being on the streets,” Clyde states cheerfully, a broad, toothy grin plastered on his face. “Room temperature water is better for you, yes? From what I have noticed, I believe you are a hellhound, although, please correct me if I am mistaken.”
The initial meeting provided the doctor with a clue to Axel’s species, which were the small sparks of flame. Then to further the suspicion, the stranger was displaying traits of an animal-based species considering the ears. When the pleading continued to the offering of doing anything to receive food, the lycanthrope flashed a benevolent smile before shaking his head, no. The patient he decided to treat without verbal permission should not be required to accomplish any tasks in order to be rewarded with more food. The stranger needed to focus on recovering after all, not receiving their next meal.
“All I want you to do is focus on getting better. You shouldn’t have to do anything to get more food,” Clyde answered kindly.
At the mentioning of a dog-like scent, Clyde furrowed a brow before glancing down towards his clothes. The attire he wore was freshly cleaned, thus the scent of dog enriching it seemed improbable. There was a pause as the redhead thought, his mind shortly reaching the answer as a hearty chuckle escaped his mouth. He supposed it was himself wreaking with the scent of dog given the species that was forced upon him hundreds of years ago.
“Well then you may just be smelling me then,” he began, a slight laugh in his voice. “I’m a lycanthrope, thus why I may have a similar scent to a dog.”
The cups and plate were placed onto the tray before the lycanthrope lifted it, taking a few steps away. Naturally, his improved sense of hearing carried Axel’s offer to the doctor’s ears, his cheeks shortly turning a deep red in response as he glanced back. A quick shake of the head was given as a response, no, Clyde becoming too bashful to speak for a moment. Afterwards, he left the room to refill Axel’s bowl with stew and the cup with some room temperature water. Another bun was placed on the side, the redhead attempting to make certain the gluttonous hellhound would be filled soon. Once everything was gathered, Clyde returned to the room with a tray filled with food, setting it onto the table for consumption.
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