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!
Warmth coated the earth on this day as the sun stationed itself high above the sky. Clouds were practically nonexistent, revealing brilliant azure skies above. Through tightly shut curtains, the wondrous sunlight hardly managed to break into a dark bedroom. Thus, later into the morning hours, Dexter roused from his sleep. He woke bleary-eyed, days of waking earlier to begin the process of learning about the Adams' company messing up a once "regular" sleep schedule. Throughout his years, Dexter was a night owl, however, a little over a year passed since his parent's death and his family was becoming determined. These walkarounds through the company building became mandatory, each morning starting with loud knocks on his bedroom doors and shouts about his uncle waiting. The only remaining heir to the electronics company's fortunes was a young, redheaded adult who was an outlier compared to his family. Several comments were made already, overheard when his uncle and grandparents settled down in the study to discuss the company. People were complaining about the radical differences since Dexter was introverted and dubbed a troublemaker after his crimes. He supposed those thoughts kept him up and the recent changes of sleep schedule made it impossible for the redhead to receive an appropriate amount of sleep.
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Slowly, Dexter rose, groaning as he reached for his glasses, unfolded the arms and placed them onto his face. Weeks were going by since his introduction into the company, but he could already hear the discussions about his unique behaviour. An annoyed sigh escaped the redhead's lips, however, his desire to delay the inevitable sparked thoughts of a plan. Hastily, Dexter leaped out of bed, striding to the drawers and grabbing a light red t-shirt and a pair of light blue shorts. Whether they matched or not hardly mattered, they were merely the two articles of clothing piled on top with some possibility of working together. The clothes were quickly tugged on without any forethought, the wealthy young man being quite pleased he merely slept in boxers. Less time was wasted hiding in the dark depths of his rooms. He returned to his bedside, snatching the phone off his bedside table and unplugging it. Promptly, the device was shoved into his pocket, later followed by a pair of earbuds taken from the drawer as he walked towards the door, pressing up to listen to the other side. Once satisfied with silence, he turned the knob and entered the lavish hallways of the Adams' manor. His bedroom door was quietly closed behind him as he crept forward, listening and avoiding anybody awake at these hours.
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A mere few years ago, Dexter thought his days of sneaking out of the manor were over, but it appeared to start anew because of conversations he desired to avoid. Fortunately, the redhead remained skilled in his craft as he gradually slipped through the house, undetected. There was a pause as he approached the steps closest to the right side of the manor as he listened for footsteps. Quietness allowed him to proceed, the young man heading into the kitchen where merely a few drinks were stored. From there, he snatched a filled, blue, re-useable water bottle before fleeing the high-traffic area and weaving through the hallways. Quick steps carried him to the servant's foyer where he opened the door and headed outside through the manor's back entrance. From there, everything would be easier as Dexter made his way down the path and beyond the gate; he long snatched a servant's keycode for morning ventures. Foolishly, they thought the redhead only had his darkness manipulation for escape, but he preferred to have alternative methods. Once outside the gate, he walked a free man with plans of travelling to Calico Forest by foot to avoid these confrontations.
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As he headed down the bland sidewalks, Dexter sent a quick I'm heading out for a bit text to his grandparents before returning the phone to his pocket for ignoring. When he arrived at his destination, perhaps he would consider answering, but for now, he required distance. The earbuds were plugged in and the ringer turned off, which would allow Dexter to thoroughly ignore any incoming texts. Would he worry his about his safety family? Most definitely. However, his insecurities about the possible conversation related to his attitude concerned the young man more. There were no plans on changing his personality or unhappily working under a facade of happiness and friendliness. It sounded miserable, thus he wanted to avoid an ill-fated destiny. The earbuds were placed in his ears, a few quick taps playing the album ATTENTION ATTENTION by Shinedown before the phone was shut off and returned to his pocket. Carelessly, Dexter weaved through the sidewalks, eventually arriving at the dirt paths of the Calico Forest. Animals went unheard as rock music blasted in his ears, but the shade and changes in the atmosphere were nonetheless welcomed.
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He proceeded down the path to Cattail Lake for an extensive period of time until suddenly veering off into the bush. Grass tickled his feet easily through the black sandals he wore, but Dexter hardly cared. He took cautious steps around bushes, fallen trees and anything else that blocked his path. Eventually, he arrived at a small opening where the river swept passed idly. Dozens of people would be either at Cattail Lake or Starlight Beach, upriver was where relaxing existed and worries could be rinsed away with the waters. The cellphone was fetched again, turned on and the pause button tapped. The earbuds were pulled out and texted complaints noticed, but temporarily ignored. Sandals were slipped off near the river's edge until finally Dexter sat on the edge and dipped his feet into the cooling waters. His phone remained in his hand, the young man reading texts, but making no hustle to reply to them. Relaxation, peace and quiet, it was everything he desired opposed to arguing and being informed about how improper his behaviour was. The conversation would be unpredictable, but Dexter remembered how he would be lectured for his troublesome ways, thus he assumed a similar outcome instead of finding out for himself. He was simply frightened of the requirement to change for the world when he merely wished to be himself.
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]Artorias Fray [break] 1,044 Words
It started out as a normal day for Artorias, much like any other day. As a model, he didn't have much time to spend for himself since he always had to think of what others would think about him. His personal image as an overall citizen alongside his physical appearance were both intricate parts to Artorias' career. While reporters hoped to catch him 'slipping up', Artorias never once allowed any of them to have that satisfaction. This always made him chuckle, alongside his managers who were obviously proud of their client for staying true to himself and never allowing those 'dastardly predators' get to him.
If only those managers knew of Artorias' own predatory nature. They would definitely think twice before ever grouping those reporters in any category even close to himself. This brought a smile to Artorias' face every time he thought of this. It was such a fun little game to him, one that he wasn't planning on ending anytime soon. It was a simple game of cat and mouse for him which would tide him over until his real hunts occurred. For now, Artorias merely would continue this charade until his time came.
This day's main difference was that Artorias finally had some free time for himself where he could relax and spend some time in nature. He much preferred this aspect of life as opposed to humans and their constant use of technology and reliance upon their machines. As Artorias pondered these thoughts of his, he found himself approaching a path that he knew all too well. A path to Cattail Lake. It was a small area of nature, but an area nonetheless. A normally crystal clear lake, beautiful foliage, and quite a bit of wildlife. It was a perfect getaway from humanity for Artorias and one that he went to quite frequently. Wearing his usual garb of a bright red t-shirt, a black leather jacket with matching pants, his usual black and red shoes and a silver necklace around his neck. 'A'-shaped silver earrings were also upon his ears with his blond hair spiked in his preferred casual style.
Normally, Artorias would shrug off his jacket, remove his shirt, and go for a nice cooling swim within this lake, but upon reaching his destination, a surprise met him. A slightly familiar form was before Artorias, earbuds removed yet still seemingly in touch with technology. It was irritating to him, but not enough to prompt much aggressive, instead Artorias decided to just make himself known in a...more polite manner.
"You know, this place is much better without a distraction like technology around you. You should try it." Artorias stated, matter-of-factually with a neutral expression on his face and his left hand in his pocket. Crimson eyes looked down upon Dexter, almost challenging him to make a witty reply. Artorias didn't mind either way, but was ready to make his point clear if an argument began.
Comfortable, Dexter remained stationed on the smooth rock, his legs dangling over, allowing his feet to dip into the cool, slow-moving waters below. Birds chirped above as the redhead read the text message from his grandmother stating she wanted him to come home shortly. The bespectacled young man answered with a simple response stating he would return around noon, going lengths to mention the beautiful weather and how he wished to bask in the warming sunlight. There was a single word response that signified hesitance and slight concern.
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A sigh drifted through the redhead's lips as he returned to the home screen of his cellphone. Slowly, the bespectacled man leaned back, concerned about the events to unfold once he returned to the Adams' Manor. Forceful changes were obnoxious and something Dexter did not wish to handle. Throughout his life, his parents and grandparents promoted being himself, except for his non-moralistic activities. He was introverted, never a fan of social interaction and they appeared to desire absolute social grace while he preferred his current lifestyle.
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The sounds of footsteps approaching were unheard by Dexter, however, the familiar voice made the redhead tense. Somebody from those criminal days, long resented after the Scarlet Ghosts betrayed him, jamming the door shut and locking him inside the store they robbed. Part of Dexter wished to keep his eyes forward in a desperate hope the voice would disappear, however, that would be improbable. A groan escaped the redhead's mouth as he slowly glanced over his shoulder, eyes promptly narrowing as he discovered the blond man behind him.
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Artorias Fray, a member of the Scarlet Ghosts, before the gang was disbanded. There he stood, spiky, blond hair, red shirt, black leather jacket, crimson eyes and a neutral expression. The redhead rolled his eyes at Artorias since he did not desire the vampire's company.
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"Oh, just fuck off. I don't give a damn about what you have to say." Dexter mumbled irritably. "What the hell are you doing here anyways?!"
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Whenever a Scarlet Ghost member came into vicinity, Dexter hastily found himself growing moody. In the redhead's mind, the entire group was composed of traitors, but little did he realize a sole individual was responsible for jamming the door. Behind him, feet away was the culprit, the person who decided Dexter would be arrested by police that evening. Alas, the blame was evenly spread across every member of the Scarlet Ghosts. Due to Jean's words, the redhead was under the impression they swore a vow to blame his lack of skill in the field as opposed to confessing.
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There was never a time where Dexter wished to speak with his former friends and gang allies, however, today was one where he wished to avoid them. Returning home would unleash the conversation about his recent behaviour, thus, the redhead lacked a haven from those who wished to infuriate him endlessly. Anywhere else was public property and places where Artorias could come and go as he pleased...
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]Artorias Fray [break] 498 Words
Artorias expected such a response from his dear old friend, actually quite thankful to have disturbed the man before him. The eye roll, the irritated mumbling. It all reminded the vampire of why he absolutely despised his former affiliation with the Scarlet Ghosts. Each of them was inferior in their own right, but Dexter had a special place on Artorias' list of people he loathed. He had a lack of experience in the field and therefore was the easiest member to scapegoat that evening. A simple jamming of the door had been enough to seal the gang's fate. Something that Artorias himself felt would have been child's play to escape from.
This was why the blond now was choosing to take satisfaction in messing with his former friend. "Oh, come on, old friend, you act as though you're not happy to see me." Artorias would chide in a cruel tone, even mockingly bringing a hand to his chest as though he was hurt. The man would pause for a few moments before actually answering the question. "This is public property, Dexter, so it shouldn't matter why I'm here." The vampire would state bluntly, but keeping a calm demeanor for now.
A smirk crawled across his lips. "But since you asked so nicely, I figured I'd come here to relax from my oh so trying life as a model. You know, the constant hounding of fans eager for a glimpse of me can be quite tiring." Artorias would laugh briefly. "Oh wait, but you wouldn't understand how that feels now would you? I guess that door never opened for you, hm?" The vampire would emphasize his little insult towards how Dexter was trapped back then. The blond would bare his fangs in a sort of sick smile as he now awaited a response from the man.
Compared to everybody in the Scarlet Ghosts, Dexter would have preferred to see anybody else as opposed to the obnoxious Artorias Fray. Everybody inside the gang was undoubtedly annoying, however, Artorias narrowly reached top rank, followed closely by the flirtatious, smartass known as Jean Moren. The blond vampire was a snide man, smug by all counts and, in Dexter's opinion, determined to ruin the lives of anyone around him. Even during his time in the Scarlet Ghosts, the redhead was not particularly close with Artorias; probably because he never really liked him.
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The smug-mouthed vampire proceeded to breathe out those obnoxious words in a sarcastic tone. The redhead hunched over, elbow bearing into his thigh as he placed his cheek on it. His eyelids were narrowed, brows pointing down, screaming his annoyance across his countenance. The red-eyed vampire declared them 'good friends' with his sarcastic undertones and with scolding connotations. Additional theatrics were added to Artorias' performance, the action of raising a hand to his chest noticed by flitting to his peripherals.
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An annoyed groan escaped Dexter's lips the longer he listened to Artorias' ridiculous words! Moments like this, the redhead wished his shadow teleportation was more operational. Unfortunately, teleporting would leave him exhausted and wandering through the outskirts at this distance... meaning endless peril should he test it. He ignored the public property comment, however, the modelling one made Dexter roll his eyes. How did somebody like Artorias get a public job anyways?! Then that stupid insult left his obnoxious little lips.
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A provocative insult prompted a reactive response. The redhead straightened, face twisting in a scowl. HE COULD PICK A DAMN LOCK! The bespectacled wealthy boy's gaze locked on Artorias, glaring.
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"You damn well know I can pick a fucking lock, so don't you even start!" He snapped at him. "Somebody jammed the fucking door!"
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Only a few minutes passed and Dexter already felt every definition of done with Artorias! The obnoxious former gang member boiled the redhead's blood whenever possible! He wished to escape this situation, alas, the redhead had the sneaking suspicion the vampire would potentially follow to annoy him further... he seemed to get a kick out of it!
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]Artorias Fray [break] 364 Words
Artorias' face retained that sick smile once he noticed that Dexter was growing ever more annoyed and, upon receiving that irritated glare, the vampire knew he had succeeded in pissing his former acquaintance off. The vampire was definitely getting a kick out of this, much like a high school bully with a nerdy classmate. He found it fun and was quite enjoying the fact that every ticking second seemed to make Dexter angrier and angrier.
A cruel chuckle would escape Artorias' lips at Dexter's declaration that he knew how to pick locks and that the door was jammed. The vampire shrugged in a sort of mock innocence before replying. "Well, perhaps you weren't as good as you thought you were. After all, it was definitely a simple lock and seemed to be child's play from what we had planned." He kept his tone condescending as he continued. "I'm certain if I had been the one to pick the lock that this whole operation would have went smoothly. Funny how one little loose end created so many issues, huh, Dex?" Artorias would laugh at this. He could honestly irritate Dexter for hours and never grow tired of it. The wealthy kid just made it so easy for him.
It was obvious that Artorias was far from finished with Dexter. He wanted to make him squirm more, to become angrier. That was why he chose his next words carefully. "You always were the weakest link, but hey, at least you're alive. That's more than can be said for one of our old friends." He added coldly, but feigning a vaguely solemn undertone. "I wonder how it feels..." A cruel smirk came across Artorias' features once more, to put away his facade. The vampire would then shrug once more. "It's not like you killed him by messing things up." Artorias stated bluntly.
The infuriating presence of Artorias Fray left Dexter fuming with every word he stated. Nobody believed him when he told them the fucking door was jammed! It was among the reasons the redheaded former gang member believed everybody set him up for failure. When the day arrived, Dexter found himself unable to access his emergency ability to leave the store. The infamous shadow teleportation that left him exhausted and heavy-breathing, suggesting something disabled his abilities temporarily. It was among the many reasons why the wealthy man considered his former friends traitors.
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Although, at times the bespectacled man wondered if he should be thankful for his betrayal. It resulted in him dropping out of the Scarlet Ghosts and the point of better behaviour hammered in when he lost his parents. The reason he walked a better path was that he realized the cruelness of the crime world and finally saw the sins dirtying his hands. The chuckle that escaped Artorias’ lips prompted narrowed eyes from Dexter. Evidently, the blond vampire was entertained by his declaration of a jammed door...
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Condescendance oozed from Artorias’ voice as he spoke, clearly enjoying the blatant belittling of Dexter’s skills. An annoyed growl, barely audible, rose from the redhead’s throat the longer he listened to the vampire’s claims of ineptness. Undoubtedly, he lacked experience, but he managed to create well-baked plans and knew how to pick a DAMN LOCK. A laugh punctuated Artorias’ words and the redhead found himself wishing he could punch the asshole of a vampire in his smug face! Alas, the gifted man refrained, instead balling his hands and allowing his nails to dig into flesh.
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Vampires had enhanced strength... If he punched Artorias, the blond could easily knock him unconscious in a single swing. Rather, he stood and mustered another glare for the smartass bothering his peace and quiet.
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“Just fuck off! You know nothing about what happened that night, so leave me alone!” The gifted man snapped at him.
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Smoothly, he slipped on his sandals, preparing to take a premature leave from the area. Alas, the obnoxious vampire proceeded to speak in regards to the death of a gang member... and the final comment shook Dexter. The redhead had taken a few meagre steps before listening to Artorias’ twisted implication. He glanced over his shoulder, amber eyes blazing with anger.
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“Are you seriously fucking- You blame me for that?!” He shouted, outraged by the notion. “The door got jammed, it ain’t my fault!”
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A heat settled over Dexter’s face as he discovered the anger he felt about the entire situation. Although, being blamed for indirectly causing the death of another gang member perturbed him! Through those last few minutes, he discovered a jammed door and the inability to activate his abilities. The police arrested him, discovered him inside and shone lights in his face while requesting him to put his hands up. The evening played out vividly inside Dexter’s mind of what he considered his biggest mistake. Nobody came back for him, yet, Artorias stood, trying to lay the blame upon him.
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The sheer concept was insulting to the bespectacled man’s sensibilities. They carried on, yet, supposedly his delayed escape resulted in a death?! It was nonesensical!
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[attr="class","dexter_p_tagname"]Artorias Fray [break] 536 Words
While Artorias maintained his practically trademarked smirk, Dexter had seemed to have started to leave. Luckily for the vampire, the young man seemed to be drawn back into the rude remarks and practical bullying. The model had even successfully brought Dexter's anger to the point of swearing, a feat that Artorias took quite the amount of pride in. It was always a fun time to aggravate and torture his former 'friends' from the Scarlet Ghosts and Dexter was proving to be one of the more entertaining ones. The young man's irritation was definitely a highlight to these schemes.
Dexter's outburst regarding Artorias' implications of blaming the redhead for a gang member's death was just the icing on the cake at this point. The anger in the man's eyes, his clenched fists. It was obvious that Dexter wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug look off of the vampire's face, but Artorias knew he wouldn't dare make such a foolish mistake against him. After all, it was evident that the vampire had quite the advantage when it came to physical altercations, so it was a smart idea not to actually swing a punch against him. Of course, this wouldn't stop the model from continuing to stir the pot.
"Oh, but of course I'd blame you for it. After all, each of the Ghosts had their flaws, aside from me, of course." Artorias stated bluntly with a chuckle. "I believe that you were all more bark than bite, especially you, Dexter. I mean, look at you now. What have you even accomplished since your time away from the gang?" The vampire questioned with a shake of his head. "Still far too weak to stand up for yourself and just barking away instead of taking action." That was when Artorias would most quickly, using his enhanced speed to position himself right in front of Dexter, not caring if he kept his head turned around or not. "You're pathetic." The vampire added in a low voice, just hoping to have upset Dexter even more.
The morning had soured hastily since he began interacting with Artorias. Narcissistic and obnoxious, those were the words Dexter searched for when describing the vampire who pushed his buttons! There were several options the redhead craved given the atrocious situation brought upon him. One was the ability to kick Artorias' ass, which was removed from the table given the man's physical-oriented species. The second was to teleport and escape the entire circumstance, but the distance between him and the manor was sketchy...
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Shadow teleportation left Dexter drained entirely, leaving him a wobbling, stumbling mess. Accomplishing teleportation and pushing his distance would only result in him being located somewhere in Lorsette, exhausted and alone. If the circumstance was direr, he would have considered it, unfortunately, there was nothing life-threatening. Therefore, the bespectacled redhead was trapped attempting to ignore Artorias' nonsensical insults. Saying it was easy, but accomplishing the action proved difficult as the vampire worked towards irritating him.
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As his attention was captured, Dexter listened to the cruel suggestions of Artorias of why he was faulted. Initially, Dexter found his fists clenched, preparing for another stupid explanation while listening to the vampire's obnoxious ego stroke. Then a question arrived that caught the redhead off guard... What have you even accomplished since your time away from the gang? Unintentionally, Dexter flinched at the remark, the words ripping into him like a razor. The bespectacled man completed hardly a thing and stood in the presence of a well-known model...
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He wanted to repay his parents, yet, he retreated from home to escape the suffocating responsibilities hefted onto his shoulders. He was weak. Immediately, Dexter's mood plummeted as the anger increased, but no clever retort escaped his lips. As much as he wished to shout about the incorrectness in his statements, the bitter reality slapped the young man hard in the face. Jobless, yet training to inherit everything well showing blatant incapability. The abrupt closing of distance brought Dexter stumbling back, narrowly avoiding a fall.
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There was nothing he could state in response, but he would be damned if he stood there and took it!
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"SH-SHUT UP!" He shouted, a weak retort to the things weighted against him.
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Truth was, the bespectacled redhead lacked a defence against the accusations of accomplishing nothing. At most, he received a few days of training while being informed of his management skills required improvement. He would be compared to his parents and placed amidst the mud surrounding the golden pedestal that spared them from grime. Compared to them, he was nothing... Merely a mooching son incapable of getting his act together before they died. A misguided adult who idiotically ruined the memories his parents wished for.
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He tainted them with jobs, hurt them with getting arrested and murdered their relationship with the bickering. The saintly parents would tell him otherwise should they be around, but Dexter knew the truth. He was a horrid son, the type no parent wanted and he accepted that. Yet, he stood, attempting to change when it proved too late to satisfy, but he planned on bettering himself nonetheless in tribute to them. He wanted to be the son they wished for rather than the one they received... A different man capable of filling the enormous shoes left behind for him.
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[attr="class","dexter_p_tagname"]Artorias Fray [break] 547 Words
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The skin is created by Wolf of Adoxography and Gangnam Style. The thread and conversation remodels are by Kagney. The Strange Reality board list, Heal My Soul info center, I Remember Now mini profile and Electric Requiem profile remodel is made by Pharoah Leap. The Who's That Member member list remodel was made by Tictactoe. The Cbox.ws Shoutbox remodel was made by Trinity Blair. All templates used for claims, information sheets, applications, etc are credited to their owners; credits for these can be found in the threads the templates are use on. Images that are used on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners, however, they have been edited by Zac with a few being edited by Chibi Magician. The plot, rules and various other information pieces for The Duality of Man are written by Chibi Magician with the assistence of her co-admins, Finnegan and Dremulf, alongside other unlisted people who were kind enough to give their input. The TRS, AP and face claim were all created by Fleur for specifically the use of TDOM. All plugins used on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners. The templates my members use are credited to their maker, if you find a template that belongs to you, but is uncredited, please speak to Chibi Magician or the member themself. Characters created on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners and should not be used elsewhere without the creator's permission.
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