Welcome to The Duality of Man, an original animanga role-play that features numerous supernatural creatures. Unfortunately, these various species have distanced themselves because of the war that occurred thousands of years ago, plaguing some with eyes that only see their dualism. While others meddle themself with their differences, two groups fight, each attempting to eliminate the other in for their definition of worldly peace. These two groups of the Terror Response Syndicate (TRS) and the Assembly of Phantoms (AP). With individuals fighting merely over their differences, it brings uncertainty to the outcome of this war.
We happily accept all role-players as long as they obey the rules and are capable of meeting our word count of 50. This does include those who are unfamiliar with this style of role-playing. The staff of The Duality of Man are willing to happily help those who are new to the role-playing world so they feel comfortable on site. Feel free to message the staff if you need help, they can be found here or in the site Discord and will gladly answer questions alongside calm concerns. If you have any suggestions we would love to hear them; guests may use the support board as a suggestion area as well. Should you decide to join, may I say welcome to the site and we all hope you enjoy your time here.
Yours Truely,
The Staff
season
Summer 2022
Heat has broken through into a glorious summer. The snow has entirely dried through the spring, leaving to the brilliance of the warmer months. Terror activity has risen as people are brought out of their homes, leaving the TRS in a position of consistent work. Each are attempting to maintain victory in the endless struggle for power.
With April, an activity check has arrived for members to do! Please post on the AC and tag all your accounts, including WIPs and OOC accounts. Failure to post on this AC will result in your accounts being marked inactive or deleted. Please note, due to a late start, the due date for this check has been adjusted for one time and one time only.
The tan skinned Cajun pushed and stumbled into the bar,she was a bit of an odd sight, bearfoot and wearing a lace dress that looked surprisingly innocent. She stumbled to the bar looking pale and forlorn.
“I don’t care what it is as long as its more than 80 proof.” She slammed down a wad of large bills and seat down at the bar stool grinding her teeth and tapping the bar impatiently waiting for the drink.
“Now why the long face cutie.” A heavily drunken regular sidled up next to her and smiled “I’ll buy you one of them cute little girl drinks if you smile.”
Evangeline just groaned slightly trying to ignore him. A though flashed in her head of the god of the dead having a laugh over this somewhere. “I’m gonna warm you once,you need to fuck off or this won’t be pretty.” She grit her teeth heavily,her mind still stuck on visions of the grisly ends of the men , who to her, she had just been riding in a humvee with in the depths of the Kuwaiti sands
“Come on my lovely look at me and show me them pearly whites.” The man reached over and tried to turn her head towards him. When she affixed the man with a burning look of grey eyed anger he might of realized his mistake,but his drunken stupor was enough of a chance her her to grab his arm,pull him standing put him in an arm bar and slam his head into the wood of the bar.
“Listen here you drunken jackass,I’m not in the mood to harbour any semblance of the bullshit that’s gonna spew out of your or any of your drinking buddies are gonna say as they try to think with their dicks, understand?” She had leaned close and growled this into his ear before she just let him out of the pin and pushed him away.
“Spread the fucking word.” She grumbled as she grabbed the mans beer he had left behind and downed it in one fell swig as she watched him scramble away nursing a broken nose and a missing tooth. “God can’t someone drink in peace....fuck I need to figure out where the hell I am.” She clanked the bottle down softly as the bartender clanked down a shot glass in front of her as he poured her a shot of a thick clear liquid. Before he could put it back she just grabbed his wrist,tapping the bar and signaling him to just leave it. He sighed and just left it,grabbing the cash she had left on the counter.
Another long day's work as Lorsette City gradually devolves into a cesspool of crime and terror attacks. Likewise, the strain of enduring the utter idiocy of many is now halfway through exhausting every last drop of hope she still retained for a terror-free world. Regardless, such overbearing prospects vanished through the lens of the translucent, golden-coloured gleam of brewed malt beyond the sacred conical glass. The blonde police inspector languidly hovered her chin mere centimetres above her rested arms atop the counter. With a pint glass of draught beer before her, bespectacled eyes briefly inspected the frothy foam slowly dissolving at the glass' upper portion. Amelia ended up rather disappointed, so to speak.
It was not as if Amelia's day has gone awry to the point of binge drinking, she was just reaching her fifth pint after all. As per normal, she was quite particular in occupying the rightmost end of the counter, with the other regulars rather wary of her presence to say the least. Indeed, no clear-headed man or woman aware of the name 'Sutherland' would dare even approach her in this scenario. As far as she was concerned, any individual stepping foot in such 'high-risk' venues were cognizant to the risks involved. Burdening herself in leisure time for the sake of intoxicated imbeciles would have been lamentable. With her super-enhanced olfactory receptors, she gauged the number of guests inside, the newly arrived young female included.
Before long, Amelia lifted the pint glass to her lips for a series of huge gulps, arching her head upwards for momentum and creasing her white dress shirt in the process. She then flatly set down the now half-empty glass atop the counter and snatched the handkerchief she conveniently situated beside her to clear the beer foam's residue off her lips. Her movements were rather refined despite the crude choice of drink, thankfully indicating the blonde shifter's sober state. She merely rested her back by the bar stool's rails from where her dark-coloured blazer hung by the back, her eyes affixed to the regrettably commonplace spectacle unfolding before her. Amelia observed the scene in a most subtle manner in case this tasteless encounter escalates to intense violence or something else.
Fortunately for Amelia, the woman seemed perfectly capable of defending herself. The weary blonde saw enough and immediately rested her arms atop the counter once again. Despite the bold threats and ruckus brought forth by the woman with the distinctive southern US accent, Amelia was nonchalantly swigging down the other half of her drink. Admittedly, the girl's performance was refreshing for Amelia considering that she would have reacted similarly in her shoes. Perhaps a more concerning issue for the blonde inspector was the fact that the peculiarly dressed woman was literally positioned next to her! That brief rumble had actually occurred in the near vicinity of an easily irritably Amelia. It was quite apparent that the aggressive woman beside her is new to this establishment.
The contours of Amelia's face conveyed her clear vexation. The woman beside her reeked of trouble and having to manage yet another broken soul is beyond the bounds of her paygrade. She must admit though, the girl's aura and her lack of footwear was mildly unsettling. Amelia nudged the pint glass forward upon which the bartender instinctively grabbed it and dexterously placed the glass underneath the keg, simultaneously pouring Amelia's seatmate her shot in the meanwhile.
Evangeline downed the shot before just taking a heavy swig straight from the bottle. She didn’t really taste the alcohol nor even feel the heavy burn. Her mind was too busy trying to price together everything that had gone wrong and lead to her current predicament. Her hand went up to the pair of dog tags still around her neck reading her name and serial number. Her grip went whit knuckle around them as she roughly snapped the chain around her neck and slammed to two small tablets of metal into the counter with enough force to leave them embedded in the hard wood.
“All of us died....fucking....all of us and I’m the only one who gets to comeback.Fraiser had two fucking daughters!!” She clenched the bottle in her hands and started drinking “Davis was going to get married!! Why me!!” She growled angrily and started to down more of the hard white liquor that just couldn’t come out of the bottle fast enough. She clanked the empty bottle down on the counter with a sense of a woman on death row.”another.” She said hoarsely to the bartender as she kneaded her temples into her palms. Evangeline just couldn’t get the wringing out of her ears, the aftershock I’d the bullet that had ended her life and the tempered smile of the man behind it.
With what she was mumbling about and the decisive show of force she had just put some poor drunk bastard through, there probably wasn’t a single person in the bar that would even think about approaching her, that is if it wasn’t for the fact that when she slammed her dogtags into the wood of the bar counter she had knocked over a rather fact looking pint of malted beer belonging to the blonde woman next to her. In her scramble to try and drink herself into a stupor she didn’t notice the bronze beverage slowly starting to pool on the countertop, nor the discerning look of the beverages owner standing behind it
The obviously sullen guest was emanating an... unpleasant vibe, at least for Amelia. The rather jaded-looking bartender casually plopped the glass down the counter just as the blonde shifter took notice of the oddly dressed woman yanking out what she could only perceive to be a pair of metal identification tags. Almost immediately afterwards, Amelia quickly rose from her seat and in one fluid motion, sidestepped until her arms were resting atop the bar stool's rails. Her oddly infuriated seatmate suddenly smashed the dog tags down the counter with such force that it lodged deep into the hardwood counter, just as Amelia sensed. The resultant force from the collision was enough to cause a vibration strong enough to topple her glass down and down went her $7.
At this point most, if not all patrons currently in the pub briefly glanced over the two women while the listless old bartender apathetically carried on with wiping his cocktail shaker set. Unfortunately for the bar counter, it became apparent that the bluish-haired woman was no human as evidenced by her display of strength. Amelia's keen eyes glared at the dog tags, identifying the woman as a Tembo, Evangeline. Moreover, Amelia was quite certain that the identification tags were issued in the US, therefore exposing Evangeline's affiliation to the US Military. Well it seems that Inspector Sutherland's hunch proved accurate once again, this girl is trouble. Her point is soon accentuated by Evangeline's despair induced rambling, much to Amelia's acute distaste
How and why, is an American military woman looking like a hung-over high school girl straight out of prom here in Newfoundland Canada swigging down a bottle of booze? The TRS clearly does not issue such identification tags, if so, why is she raving as if she had just recently emerged from a warzone? Amelia rubbed her forehead in vexation the moment the old bartender nodded towards her. The bespectacled blonde signalled for the bartender to stop just as he was about to wipe the table clean. Instead she gently took the rag from him. "Well well soldier..." she uttered in her strangely mellow voice before tossing the said rag to Evangeline's lap. "You appear to have dropped something, mind helping out?" she further added whilst deftly snatching the pint glass moments before it rolled off the table.
Evangeline was bouncing her leg against the bar stool as her eyes bounced back and forth like she was trying to keep her eyes up for something but the striking grey orbs just weren't focused on anything in particular, like she was looking through everything she was seeing. her breath was a bit shallow as the bars jukebox clicked onto a slow rock ballad. She barely noticed the rag had been tossed into her lap until she heard the blonde woman speak to her. "huh?...what do you mean?" it clicked for her as she watched the English sounding woman place the empty pint glass upside down on the bar counter, right next to her bent and embedded Identification tags. She slowly took in the slight scene in front of her as she eyed the Lithe blonde woman who was speaking to her.
She stood up grabbing the rag, taking a small step towards the pooling mess that she had made just a moment before. "look...a....shit sorry I'll buy you -" as she started to wipe up the malted beer the slow Floyd song was cutout by the sound byte of a shotgun blast. The young woman's Pupils Shrunk to pinpricks and her face lit up with panic. Sweat beaded at her temples as the Newfoundland bar faded away to the harsh Kuwaiti sand dunes
"SNIPER!! JACKSON GET DOWN!!" She yelled, her voice half in panic and half in that of a sergeant barking orders at her Soldiers. Time slowed for Evangeline and she was no longer looking at the tall blonde woman. Instead she was looking at Jackson, her squads heavy gunner just seconds before he would roll out from behind cover and be hit by a sniper shot.her body language changed in a split second as she squared her shoulders to body check the much larger man she thought was in front of her.
Amelia casually handed the pint glass over to the bartender before the seemingly inebriated Evangeline even caught on. As much as she preferred for the girl to have been yet another stoner, the military identification tags and her heedless rambling suggested otherwise. She snatched her beer soaked handkerchief off the table and promptly wrung it dry. Thankfully for both of them, Evangeline ended up being surprisingly considerate. Her mere presence and the contents of her rant were beginning to upset Amelia, to say the least. It appears as though the blonde shifter was done for tonight, she had to distance herself from this oddly-dressed military girl for her own sake.
Evangeline readily stood up and was about to make amends before being abruptly cut off by the SFX of a gunshot. "It's fine, I was just about to leave-" Amelia casually remarked shortly before immediately detecting Evangeline's sudden and abnormal shift in behaviour. The shifter's nose discerned the proliferation of sweat from the woman, its odour indicating a stressed disposition. Amelia hastily turned to face Evangeline immediately after yanking her leather handbag leaning against the bar counter, bracing herself for a scuffle with a stronger foe. As soon as her hand reached inside the bag, Evangeline cried out those strikingly familiar words. Mildly disoriented, Amelia was rendered immobile for a fleeting moment. How unfortunate for Amelia, a few months without incident and then an incident like this occurs.
Before long, all she heard were shouts, both in English and in a foreign tongue... Jackson? ... it was a rather common surname, she knew quite a few of them... Yes, she knew one back in Siberia, and as such, the foreign sounding cries morphed into familiar Russian. She was... much less experienced back then... Light began materialising around her body as she began the shifting process. She instinctively surveyed her nearby vicinity, utilising her enhanced eyesight in an effort to uncover the said sniper's location amidst the supposedly wintry landscape. Gunshots and a vast array of magical blasts resounded in her augmented ears as she frantically twisted and turned her head in response...
Amelia's breathing intensified before growling, her eyes having deceived her yet again. In her semi-shifted state, the stench of gunpowder and the freezing cold was strangely absent. Yet... she felt compelled to follow the orders... As her claws began emerging, she impulsively grabbed the arms of the nearest person she deemed to be her comrade, who also happened to be Evangeline. What Amelia perceived to be a TRS issued combat suit was in fact a woman's bare forearm which her semi-shifted hand tightly clutched. In panic she attempted to pull her down as she ducked for cover.
Evangeline felt dust settle around her as she looked over her squad screaming and trying to get the radio back up and running. she took three paced breaths and she tried to grab at her helmet strap with her off hand. she tried to take it off to use it as a sniper decoy but she just couldn't get the strap to come undone. "merde...Merde!' she swore through clenched teeth as she reached down to her holster with her dominant hand and found it stuck. She tugged at it kicking her legs to try and pull hard but only managed to feel a pain as something sharp tore through her fatigues. She looked down at whatever it was and found her arms bare. 'what?' flashed through her mind as she looked down at her chest expecting her flak vest and ammo carrier but was surprised to find a soft blue dress. she looked at her arm and saw a clawed hand digging into it before looking around. she was shaking and breathing heavily as she saw the patrons of the bar looking at the two of them taking cover behind the bars counter, the blonde haired looked to be crouched in a similar manner to how she just had been. Evangeline ground her teeth softly as she crouched softly then stood up, she saw her arm bleeding underneath the death grip the half shifted girl had on her. she could feel her claws digging into the soft bits of her arm but she just twisted it softly to grab The blonde woman's arm as well. She pulled her to her feet, the feeling of helplessness and panic still clouding her mind a bit, she bit her inner cheek and shoved that into a bottle for later. She had no idea what just happened to her but she had the feeling this woman was going through something similar."Up and At'em soldier!" Evangeline said as she pulled her towards the bars exit and out into the night air
The Cajun shivered softly in her under-dressed state and she mentally called the man in robes an asshole for not letting her at least keep her fatigues as they would be much better at keeping the nights chill away. 'Drop me in the middle of fucking nowhere barefoot, if i see him again i'll fucking deck him for that.' she thought softly as she pulled the woman along behind her and into somewhere more private nearby. She pulled her into an alley and placed her against the alley "Come on soldier , We got him, snipers gone we got him...battles over" her voice was actually a bit concerned. She felt responsible for dragging the woman into whatever had just happened to her and she tried to bring her back the same way she spoke to some of the shell-shocked privates that froze up during combat. "Battles over soldier, you can come home now, it's safe"
Amelia ducked beneath the cover of the table. Unbeknownst to Evangeline, the threat of AP snipers is a genuine concern even in this ostensibly modern city. Even as the lines between hallucination and reality blurred in a turbulent fashion, her hand foraged through the contents of the handbag. Two familiar textures; a handgun and a vial of a bluish liquid compound were inside. The shifting process progressed each passing second as Amelia contemplated whether to withdraw the weapon or the medicine in this situation, all whilst her clawed hand tightly clasped the other woman's forearm. Suddenly, her supposed comrade, no, Evangeline grabbed her arm back, compelling Amelia to begin reversing her shifting process. The blonde woman's still human-like face donned a hollow expression, breathing regulated while gazing at this bizarrely dressed loon.
In the meanwhile, the bartender wearily set his cleaning apparatus down in resignation, seemingly accustomed to such scenery at this point. Similarly, a handful of other onlookers sensibly decided to exit the establishment upon sight of Amelia's episode. The shifter's hands subconsciously maintained its vice grip around Evangeline's arm until the American sprang up to her feet. "THE FOCK 'RE YE DOIN'?!" Amelia exclaimed in her gruff, almost inhuman voice out of both frustration and chagrin, mostly in response to the command. Nonetheless, the gesture ultimately brought the shifter back to her senses, prompting her to let go of the bloodied arm. Evangeline then dragged a dismayed Amelia to her feet, a relatively easy task considering her enhanced strength and the blonde's semi-dazed state of mind.
As this American Military prom girl busied herself in yanking out a now fully human shifter out of the pub, Amelia merely stared at her blood-stained hands in remorse. Midway through their trek, Amelia attempted to pull herself away in futility, Evangeline's mind seemed to still be preoccupied by something else entirely. The girl seemed to still be speaking as though they were still in a battlefield. "Bugger off will ye!" She retorted as they reached a secluded alley. Her handbag was on her other free hand and Evangeline grip on her other hand disabled her from ingesting her prescribed medicine. Evangeline did not seem like a bad person, hopefully she would be released soon. Amelia then cleared her throat before inquiring, "Sorry about that, you okay?". Her native accent seems to have faded , reverting back to its more refined and mellow tones.
She carefully examined Evangeline from head to toe, despite the ringing sensation still reverberating in her head somehow. It was far too late to ignore this peculiar American woman's outburst. She of all people knew the ramifications of such unstable and hazardous behaviour. “Ms Evangeline Tembo, correct?" Amelia flatly inquired before bringing out her badge. "RCMP, I will need you to show me an ID please." after that declaration, she would then rummage through her bag for the emergency med-kit.
Evangeline blinked softly as the woman pulled a badge out of somewhere and started the the stanadard cop spiel about identification. She blinked again and the rest of her vision finally dropped, the Last details swirling away like dust on a night wind. her now grey Eyes filled with confusion as she let out a soft breathy "....Merde..." She didn't recognize the moniker and the last bit of the adrenaline rush died down as the deep cuts on her arm finally started throbbing with a burning pain. she covered it with her other hand and started stammering. 'i....um.....well...." she started swearing in cajun french again cursing the hooded god in whatever grey hell he presided over.
The Cajun looked sheepish as it dawned on her how many sorts of fucked she was right now. "How do I explain to you....in the way that is least likely to get me thrown into the nuthouse......becuase as of....oh i dont know an hour ago i was bleeding to death in the middle of fucking nowhere Iraq. MY name is Sergeant Tembo. I'm with the 82nd, I dont know how the hell I got here.....I'm going to assume that here is either England or Scotland because of your accent." She rubbed her face groaning. "I need to get to the closest Base with a US military presence, I don't have my identification but surely someone can pull my records" She grumbled softly " What day is it by the way, i dont know how long I was out, last I remember it was Saturday."
Amelia merely peered through the contents of her handbag whilst casually listening through Evangeline's rambling. Tucking her badge back inside the bag, she could only sigh upon sighting her multiple assortments of vials and syringes intended for personal use. Evangeline continued with her irrational rambling in the meanwhile. Admittedly, it was not as if Amelia actually expected a sensible explanation from her, let alone any sort of ID considering her current state. It was quite lamentable, the fact that such bizarre accounts no longer puzzled her as much as it used to ever since moving to Lorsette. "Right Sergeant, I am Inspector Amelia Sutherland..." the blonde shifter listlessly uttered whilst pulling out an emergency trauma dressing.
Before anything, she must redress her damage she unwittingly caused the woman. She promptly began unrolling the bandages as she lazily explained "I will need you to remain calm sergeant, but first of all welcome to Lorsette City... Newfoundland, Canada". Slight undertones of irritation flavoured her tone of voice, having to state where this godforsaken city is positioned in the map is in itself, a huge insult to Canada. Still in the midst of explaining, she closed in of Evangeline's still bleeding upper arm in order to apply the bandage "Time now is approximately a few minutes past 23:30 on a Friday, I believe the date now is..." Unfortunately for her, she appeared to have forgotten, these unreasonably long shifts were starting to hamper her better judgement.
"Give me a moment..." she remarked shortly before finally managing to fully wrap the trauma dressing around the arm, fully dressing Evangeline's wound. Sighing heavily, she felt obliged to reach through her pocket to pull out her smartphone. With hasty taps on the phone's screen, the time and date then showed up for her to see. "Right, today is the 3rd of May it would seem." her phone would have been positioned low enough for Evangeline to take a good long peek at tonight's time and date through the wide screen of Amelia's mobile phone; 11:37 pm, Friday, 3rd May 2019....
‘Is she checking the time on her fucking gameboy?’ She thought oddly, having no real clue what the small hand held cube was that the police officer pulled out of her pocket. “Wait May the third?” She went to grab the item out of her hand to get a better look at the date on the small electronic device. “Wait what happened to the war, is desert storm still happen......Ning....” Her blood ran cold as Evangeline looked at the date and year. When Amelia would look up at Evangeline she would notice that her voice had choked up in her throat and the Cajun had went pale. She started shaking and she took a small unsteady step backwards, her hands twitching and the cellphone clattering to the asphalt below as she started to hyperventilate heavily.
Evangeline’s eyes narrowed in panic as she tried to speak, to move , to just do anything at all but found herself frozen and felt like she was staring at the back of her own head unable to do anything but watch as her body seized up on itself. She tried focusing on the blonde woman ahead of her, trying to keep her piercing green eyes in the center of her view as her hands twitched in the air. Her arms locked as if she was still holding the device she had dropped just a second before. She was shaking as she started to look more like the young high schooler that Amelia has likened her to before, and even then she looked like she had just seen the face of death itself as she started to list softly on her feet. She stumbled backwards a few more feet before the blue haired sergeant’s eyes rolled into the back of her head.her body crumbling softly to the ground as she lost consciousness and her head hit the asphalt with a dull sounding thunk, almost like someone dropped a watermelon from the same height she fell
Amelia raised an eyebrow at Evangeline's disturbed reaction, slightly bewildered at her shock being acute enough to cause hyperventilation. Her confusion is heightened after the blonde shifter noted something about 'desert storm' and the war. From that alone, she could deduce that the woman was teleported here from the battlefield in Iraq under strange circumstances, quite a plausible explanation considering how discernibly cursed Lorsette is. What Amelia is doubtful about, is the notion that Evangeline somehow time-travelled all the way from the Gulf War. As far as Amelia is concerned, this startled American must be referring to an unnatural sandstorm of sorts. Amelia grimaced a bit as she witnessed the screen of her mobile phone crack as it dropped on the hard ground. She sighed and picked up her phone prior to turning back, failing to take heed Evangeline's increasingly erratic behaviour until it was too late.
It was but a split second before she witnessed the sergeant's head collide against the hard ground with a resounding thud to which Amelia could only sigh. She promptly approached the unconscious Evangline and checked her breathing and pulse, which were pretty stable as anticipated. She must either be suffering the after effects of being teleported at such distance or be suffering from an intense panic attack, that, or she may simply be hooked on some high-quality drugs. Amelia knew from experience that she will most likely recuperate soon enough. Nonetheless, it was not as if she could leave this awkwardly dressed woman lying alone in this dank alley.
The bespectacled shifter then grabbed Evangline from under her arms and gingerly lifted her up. For a woman of such strength, she sure was lighter than expected. Before long, the unconscious Evangeline is now slumped over Amelia's shoulder as she nonchalantly entered the nearest open establishment in the ares, which is the pub. Amelia needed to retrieve a few items back there anyway. The bartender merely cast her a brief quizzical look before shifting back to his usual jaded expression. The other patrons were a bit more vivid in their confusion or irritation. Amelia casually set Evangeline down onto the nearest bench seat and gently rested her head face down onto the table. A less than graceful sight for an elegantly dressed young woman yet Amelia found it ironically appropriate in this scenario, this way Evangeline would at least blend in.
Soon afterwards, she approached the bartender who upon noticing her coming closer, swiftly pulled out her neatly folded blazer from beneath the counter and handed it over to her. "And the identification tags?" Amelia asked in a straightforward manner to which the bartender could only nod and pull out the dog tags from under the counter as well. This was, after all, the only piece of identification Evangeline had with her. After taking the tags, she immediately returned to Evangeline and draped the blazer over her back. She then slumped herself beside Evangeline and dropped her handbag flat on the table. It appears as though she will have to wait for the army girl to wake up before resuming the questioning process.
It took about four hours before the young soldiers piercing silver eyes opened. She pushed herself up to a proper sitting position and rotated her neck to let the bones pop loudly. Her eyes focused around the unfamiliar and empty bar room and her first instinct was to check for hostiles. After a half second she just shook her head and sighed. Her sight focusing on the slumped and sleeping form of the the bartender from earlier, on the counter in front of him was a folded not that fluttered softly in the draft from the bars fans. Evangeline spied “to inspector Sutherland” scrawled out on the fold and assumed the rest of it said something along the lines of “get the hell out of my bar once you wake up.”
“Huh....nice barkeep....drink jockeys back home would have just dumped us out in a ditch outside and went home.” She muttered softly before turning over to the inspector and sighing.the way she had sidled up next to her when she was unconscious meant there wasn’t many ways to get out of this and slip away short of playing a people jenga that Evangeline wasn’t entirely sure she could keep from tumbling. Her eyes became unfocused as she remembered the date. “ hey inspector ....wake up and tell me your game boy was fucking with me,surely I can’t be 30 years in the future because that would be fucking rediculous.”
Evangeline thought back to her mother.... she had been KIA for thirty years. There wasn’t a damn chance in hell she could just go back home andsay “ hey méré I’m home it was an accident and nothing actually happened!!” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself focused on the moment and not going back into shock. “Goddamnit inspector wake up! Suns up time to ruck up!” She growled “you’ve got thirty years of politics to fill my ass up on! Your the one who popped that bubble so I’m holding you personally responsible.”
Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. She is in no way, obligated to guard this illegal American immigrant. In fact, it would be in her best interest to simply shove her off to the precinct for interrogation. She merely eyed the slumbering Evangeline before phoning her colleagues one by one, none of which were available due to the typical case of some serial murders and terror attacks here and there. Amelia also lacked a proper vehicle, neither was there any available taxi around upon checking the ridesharing app, blasted terror must be blocking traffic. Amelia felt downright tempted to leave her here under the barkeep's watch, especially considering the mental distress this stranger had already caused her. She took a snapshot of Evangeline's identification tag and sent it to the RCMP HQ for further examination, that was the most reasonable course of action her half-dazed mind could think of before sighing in resignation and beckoning the waiter over. In resignation, she ordered a bottle of jack to be brought to the table... that would not be the first, nor was it certainly the last bottle.
Before Amelia realised, much of her earlier worries had slowly subsided as a most comforting feeling overwhelmed her senses after each gulp. A couple hours prior she was on the verge of cursing her team's IT department for various 'errors' arising from their investigation regarding this girl's identity. As much ridiculousness as Amelia has been exposed to in the past, neither she nor anyone in the HQ were willing to believe that a young woman who had died in Iraq somehow conveniently teleported several miles to Lorsette, decades into the future. She could just simply question her life choices and brood over her mistake of deciding to stay in Lorsette, or she could wash her worries away with whiskey before one of her mates finally show and deal with this issue. She had already endured a long, gruelling shift that deprived her of her own private time, the last thing she needed was someone bothering her with yet more rubbish.
The comforting sensation soon faded as the raucous voice of an angry American prompted the weary Amelia to slowly rise from her slumped position, inadvertently knocking over and spilled a couple of bottles, both of which are still quite full. Her listless, bloodshot eyes began to gaze over to the woman as she tried to comprehend what was being said to her. Inhaling heavily, she could conclude this in two ways; she was either still drunk and her ears are deceiving her yet again, or this incoherent, dress-wearing American soldier was actually spouting this hogwash. "Ach... look who's aw bletherin' richt noo... fockin'.... haud yer wheesht..." Amelia mumbled inaudibly as she struggled to turn her head and survey the near vicinity before ultimately sighing heavily and glaring back at Evangeline. "Aye right! ye radgie American fock, yer doin’ me heid in. WHY DAE FOCK do ah hav'tae listen tae this pure keech." she instinctively asserted, managing to slur a few words in her native dialect.
Firm fingers then grasped Evangeline's shoulder as the Scotswoman's face reddens, whether or not it is caused by intoxication or anger remains ambiguous, nor does it matter at this point. "Yae fockin' gaun barge here oot'a nowhere in yer prissy arse dress, gantin' fer it. Fockin' radge-arse screamin' bloody murder, AN' HOW'ZAT ME FAULT YE PURE WANK?!" Amelia exclaimed. Luckily for them they may as well be the only ones left in the bar in this hour. The barkeeper certainly is the level-headed one, having been accustomed to such scenes so much to the point of apathy. "AM' GONNAE BATTER YER ARSE BACK TAE DAE BORDER YAE WEE SHITE!" Amelia boldly declared shortly before she unceremoniously lost her her grip on the woman's shoulder and had to hold the table's corners for balance. "Ach tha's well shan, am gonnae fockin' cowk ah swear..." she stated, catching her breath for a bit.
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Please avoid spamming the chat; accidents are understandable.
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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.