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.
Adjusting to life in Lorsette had been... interesting, to say the least. It didn't take long for Idris to be plucked out of society due to an unusual predicament his shackles caused him. He very quickly realized he wasn't suited for the suburban lifestyle, between losing several jobs and the mountains of complaints he received from his neighbors, who were rather uncomfortable living next to an escaped convict. Deciding it wasn't worth the headache, he simply went off on his own, living off only the things he brought with him from prison. Needless to say, he had grown accustomed to a hardened life. Besides, it wouldn't be long until he leveled the "playing grounds" of Canada, but until then he only aimed to enjoy himself while given the chance. After all, he was on unfamiliar soil...
So, with that in mind, he strolled Lorsette's famed beach. With the warm sand invading his toes, and the fresh smell of the ocean, he almost felt like a kid again. He took a deep breath to fully commemorate the scarce wholesome memories of his childhood, allowing himself to, just for a moment, forget the pain he had endured during his fifteen years in prison. Though, at the very least, prison gave him the chance to become someone even better than himself. Someone capable of toppling the hierarchy, and snatching the crown from anyone who thought to take it. Even in Canada, the government was just as corrupt as back home, and while he couldn't bring justice to his fellow mages in the slums, he wouldn't let them down a second time, even if it meant killing himself, that he swore. He just needed a place to start.
Lugging his 250 pounds of magic infused steel through the sand, he trudged along, enjoying his temporary peace.
Voiz may have been a creature of hell, but he chooses to believe the beach was made as a heaven for those who could never experience it. The first glimpses of evening evident in the way the sky begins to slightly saturate with tinges of technicolor yellows and oranges which tease the arrival of motion picture paint strokes of the night sky. The white noise of the ocean, though the water itself may terrify him, gives a constant calming reminder of the progression of time as it crashes, rushes to shore, and leaves the sound of thousands of effervescent pops in the water remaining. The movement beautiful now as the lowering sun reveals the promise of the natural phosphorescent glow of the ocean and the glittering reflection of the evanescent stars to come.
Voiz had two particular favorites, though. The first being the taste of the salty air, and how well it complimented the food and pinot grigio he brought. How it made each drink of water feel even more savory as the salt dried his mouth. The next being the sand. He had to buy a sand resistant beach towel for all the time he spent drawing crop circles with his toes, names of times past and present with his more dexterous fingers that spread several yards beyond his chair at this point. Or just the feeling of it on his body, and how its coarse texture felt against his smooth, picturesque frame with his hat and black swim trunks.He had picked a spot on the beach that was relatively quiet, over a large patch of rocks that would deter the further exploration of most.
Just as he started to get the sand off to eat, a large figure dragging chains entered his secluded piece of paradise, having a conflicted expression; half from a form of nostalgic catharsis, half with a deep, hellbent determination. It may have been the glass of wine, but the normally introverted man gave a soft, worried expression and approached, giving a warm touch to his shoulder before asking "Are you okay sir?" with his normal smooth but piercing timbre and soft southern accent.
After what seemed like hours of trudging along Lorsette's coast, Idris' peace was finally interrupted. It was an inevitability he was bound to face eventually. No peace is permanent.
The sudden sound of footsteps caught his attention, his eyes squinting in the direction of a figure who seemed to be approaching him. What's this now? He thought, halting his steps to thoroughly read the person. He was dark skinned, tall (albeit shorter than he), but seemed heavily anxious. Despite the obvious tense in his face, his posture was rather relaxed, and by the looks of the picnic behind him, he was unprepared for visitors. Well, that made two of them.
Seeming completely unfazed by Voiz' touch, Idris would politely brush the stranger's hand off his shoulder, and in response to his question, scoff at the idea of 'okay'. To Idris, the closest thing was content, and that was something he had not felt in a long time. But, for the sake of this exchange, he felt it best not to provoke a less than savory interaction. "I've seen better days, and you?" He would flick his head downward to exchange glances with the man, and, in that moment, Idris felt his skin crawl with unease. There was something off-putting about this fellow, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He would run his fingers through his own salty hair, the shackles radiating with energy as they collided with his bare skin.
Voiz expected the shrug off, he only approaches that way to test how aggressive a person's disposition is. The next thing he listens for, is tone of voice. He quickly manages to label the Huge man before him as stressed but harmless by the scoff. The next bit was interesting though. He seemed to want to avoid eye contact, uneasy. A sign of lacking confidence, guilt, or intimidation. Regardless, this is a bad sign. He averts his gaze, folds his arms, and takes a step back to hopefully make the situation more comfortable. This was proven a good course of action by a verbal response. Although, even that only made more questioning for the large man necessary.
First thing is to not pressure a line of questioning, instead ask questions that create a narrative. Voiz's eyes dart with half fabricated curiously to the shackles. "Do you need help with those?" He would ask before continuing to shape the narrative "Maybe something to eat?" He would step to the side and motion over to the food he brought. Hoping to establish some level of trust or comfort and perhaps gain information on how long it has been since he has eaten good quality food.
Behind manipulative tactics, Voiz was genuinely trying to help. This is just the only way he knows to communicate. Being introverted beyond work teaches him to communicate like he's at work and makes communicating just feel like… work. Still, he wants to help people, and he plans to do so as best he can with the solemn man before him.
Admittedly, this stranger's proposal had caught Idris off guard. He had never been approached with such... kindness before, though he didn't really see this notion as kindness, but rather an act of pity. Regardless, he wasn't interested in resting -- he was on a restless mission, after all. "Help with what, these?" He would gesture to the shackles and laugh, "These things are a part of me now. How ironic considering they were meant to bind me to inescapable solitude."After issuing a spiteful smile, he would continue to walk. Whether the stranger chose to follow was not up to him. He had no interest in establishing any sort of bond with this fellow, but he wouldn't stop him from trying. Conversation was nice every once and awhile.
"I'm not hungry. I don't take handouts anyway." He would run his hand through his hair again, taking another deep breath of the salty air. He tilted his head to confirm whether his acquaintance was following, and would then ask a simple question to shift the subject. "What do you call yourself? You look like someone of importance." He would say half mockingly, half intrigued. No sane person would confront Idris and propose the idea of a shared meal, let alone offer to help him. This man was either truly genuine, held an important position somewhere, was fearless, had nothing to lose, or all of the above. As far as Idris could tell, he was someone who had seen his fair share of darkness.
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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.