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 gentle rocking motions of boat movement are soothing, cooling; the night is suddenly much, much chillier on the water. And this lady is in the middle of thinking. Far from being happy with her life, there's a little sinking feeling that something's not right without that friend she couldn't tell you what happened to. Why would someone want to leave behind who they are so much as to jump from a cliff, ready to seek the bottom with nothing more than the fear of falling? Is it that she wanted to find herself something new, somewhere on the other side of life and death? The very solemn thoughts have her seeking comfort in the rocking, laying back in beneath the starlit sky for hours and just watching the stars drifting across the heavens, talking to themselves like there is nothing left to be stated in words.
The drifting of the dingy seeps into her back, her soul wearing just enough worry to show that she does, indeed, make friendships with even the most mortal of beings. Kind of ironic, or is it? The sounds from the shore sound to her almost as though someone wonders just what's going on in her little boat, but who in their right mind would be looking at the quiet little boat, docked just off port at one of those little individual plots that had long since been abandoned as useless? So, really, the sounds are worth little embarrassment to her, little reason to be worried. The quiet of the night will return once again, surely somewhere in the sounds of the rocking boat and splashing sea, there will be something that lulls her mind from the fear and pain being experienced by the people in her memory.
Though, for now? Her eyes have closed and her voice has opened, spilling a soft and sweet song of love and hate, forever and endless, here and tomorrow. The bittersweet words are of a language lost to time, something only meant to be a wish for her poor friend. Does it mean that she will see her friend again, renewal received in a born-again body of some different nature? Will xe find what xe's looking for if given enough time to reincarnate once again as something and someone else? Surely the truth of it will be revealed with time. Won't it? Singing songs of love and life, dripping from her eyes are the tears of someone who wants her friend to find joy. She's sure only that these songs, somewhere, somehow, will reach xem.
Something about the beach and starry skies was filled with mysticism, a force strong enough to subdue even the strongest of wills, reminding all who have hurt that the hurt never really goes away. The waves race up the shores, bearing gifts of broken shells and relics lost to time... then they crash softly, reaping the sorrow and nostalgia from all who seek it. It was as if the gentle starlight transformed the seaside into heaven itself, gracing comfort to hurt and lost souls alike. Idris fell into both of these categories. He used his pain as a shield to prevent future pain, but what he failed to realize was there were some things that couldn't be escaped, and that some questions really didn't have answers. That left him lost. He had a goal, and he knew how to achieve it, but... he didn't know who he was. Did he really have what it took to reach his goal? That question pained him to ask. He viewed himself as strong enough to overcome any obstacle, and yet, here he was, aimlessly wandering the shores of Lorsette looking for answers that would never come.
Idris had completely lost track of time. He just started walking and was simply plucked from reality by his thoughts. He hardly acknowledged the passersby until they vanished completely, leaving him with only the sounds of the ocean, the dancing stars, and the occasional pier that shone with life, only to vanish again moments later. The only reason he even snapped back to reality in the first place was due to his shackles catching the critters that roamed the seaside. Eventually he decided he had had enough mindless pondering. He was getting frustrated that he couldn't answer the various questions that plagued his mind. Thinking about them was a thorn in his side, and it was probably best he lay them at ease for the night.
He approached a nearby pier that was notably much different from the others he had passed. This one was not clustered with bars and people, only rotted wood and docks that at one point housed the fisherman boats. It was not lively, nor was it solemn. It was simply still in time, existing for those who paid it any attention, and invisible to those that didn't. Except, there was something else... as Idris stepped on wood, he could make out a soft tune. It was bittersweet yet full of compassion. Normally he would simply brush it off his shoulders, but in the current scenario, it didn't feel right, and, at any consolation, he didn't want to admit to his curiosity.
What was anyone in their right mind doing out here? Aside from Idris, of course, but he was nowhere near his 'right mind'. He continued to approach, savoring the heartfelt song as his shackled clanked against the wet wood and rusted metal.
As soon as he found an opening he would take it, calling out from the dock parallel to the boat of the mystery voice."Excuse me," He would say, pausing briefly to ensure he caught their attention, "It would seem as if life dealt you a bad hand as well. Care to chat awhile?"
The words just drifted forth from her lips like force itself couldn't be held accountable, and the sounds themselves soothed and comforted only just enough, only just a bit. And they were never meant to do more, never the kind of song that could bring back the dead from the depths of souls' placement to the realm where she remained. But sometimes, the words themselves can only do so much, and the melody exhausts itself before it can truly begin to setting into her bones. Sometimes, those songs that you want to sing just aren't cutting it, and she could feel this happen at some point. The moment a memory turned a melody into a pang of sadness and loneliness.
And it was at that moment, as her song wavered in anticipation of... something. Some feeling that she couldn't shake, or something that could change the ways that we feel when the empty soul catches up to us... it was in that moment, that she heard it. Something just at the end of her rocking boat, near the dock. Leaning up on her hands and elbows, the mistress looked at his strong form, her eyes catching on every curve dancing beneath the starlight. It wasn't that she was shocked, necessarily- the clacking sounds and soft dragging noises were crystal clear against the plank wood dock. Not shocked, really. Just quiet, listening to the sounds of his voice. Blinking as she looked at the person's face, those eyes that spoke of too much and too little all at once, the slight affirmation washed over the air in a hummm. Drifting lightly closer, she could see the glint of metal on his arms, almost as though it chose his arms to rest upon. His eyes were kind, she decided. Just enough to speak to without caring that he would be nothing more than a stranger for the first few minutes of conversation.
"Sure. Climbing out of the boat with a practiced ease, her feet hit the dock as quietly as the moonbeams, as though her body was light as the air when she made land. It's a practiced grace, for sure, but her eyes landed once again upon the man who had come upon her, in her quiet space. Ducking around him just a little after locking eyes on his, she found a good spot on the dock- close to the edge with water just up to her knees, if she were to just off of it. Settling her skirts to rest around the dock instead of her legs, she draped those off of the wood panelling to dip into the cool night water. "I am Avalon. And my friend committed suicide three months ago." Looking up at him once again, her eyes could clearly show just how world-worn she was, if he looked into them deep enough. Then again, those who had seen many things knew each other almost as if on sight, it seemed.
Seemingly without hesitation, the mystery woman ceased her song, crawling out of her rocky tomb to reach level ground with Idris, who had already sat himself down on the edge of the dock. He let his chains fall freely into the ocean, and watched as they silently danced around the foamy waters while he listened to the woman speak. Her voice reeked of pain, and at the mention of suicide he decided it was perhaps the worst kind of pain to bear: the loss of a loved one. While Idris didn't hold anyone close nowadays, he knew very well what that feeling was like. Life in the slums was all about tragedy and misfortune. "Ah," He'd say, exchanging glances with her. He only intended it to be brisk, but he found himself lost in her eyes... they were filled with pain, sorrow, love, and many other conflicting emotions. Yet, despite how worn and dull they were, they still glimmered in the moonlight with a speck of hope. He found himself lost for words. He wasn't exactly the comforting type, but it was at the very least obvious that they shared each other's pain.
And then the question was asked. What's your story?
"Hah, I'll spare you the details," He started, running his hands through his hair as he inhaled the sea's salty air. Truth be told, there wasn't really a short version to his story. "I was born in a poor town that shunned anyone who was different. The authorities feared magic and anything they thought to be connected to the gods. My family knew I was different, and they thought we could hide it so long as I didn't give them reason to be suspicious." He briefly paused, finally finding the strength to break away from Avalon's gaze. He stared into the vast starry night, reaching for the words he wished to speak. "One day my mother and I were out shopping when we were approached by a group of thugs. They killed my mother over a few dollars, and in a fit of rage, I lunged at them... my hands glowing with magical force as I used their own weapons against them." He bit his tongue. This wasn't the first time he thought about the story, but it was the first time he shared it with another. He then sighed, suddenly reminding himself why he chose to broke free to begin with. "The bystanders saw everything, and I thought they would speak up for me, but... I proceeded to spend the next half of my life in prison. An eye for an eye, yet I was the one in the wrong. Some government, ay?" He chuckled, running his hand through his hair again.
They would exchange glances once more, and in that moment Idris realized he had never shared his name. "Ah, how rude of me. You can call me Idris." He had hoped this turn of conversation would shift it into something less depressing, but that was simply the plea of a lost man who didn't want to admit to his pain. But who was he kidding? He was a shattered soul no matter how much he tried to rekindle himself. Besides, he was no good at conversing with others. He raised his arms up slightly, unveiling all of the scars on his bare torso. Not even the night's sky could hide the scars of his past.
The voice of this fellow sounded deep, the hurt and memories still seeming as fresh as if they'd happened hours earlier, no more. The fact that he confided anything in her, let alone anything so personal, would take some people by surprise. But something in her just knew- there's something that makes it easier to talk to someone who doesn't seem like they will judge you negatively for the things you've got in your heart, who won't judge you for your pain. In listening, there was only that- hearing, absorbing, feeling. Taking in the scene he painted with the words he spoke. And, as his eyes seemed to search her own for something, anything, to hold onto, she offered him just that- a rod of confidence to hold himself up by. The no-expectations type. From the moment he looked up to the stars, almost as though they could choke back any feelings associated with these memories, to the break away that revealed him to be named Idris, she quietly gave him just what she would want in that situation. Concentration, contemplating his ways of thinking and the things that have molded who he has become at this point in life. Glancing between himself and the sky, the lull in conversation continues softly into a small pause as she thinks of just the way she wants to word things, just what she wants to say in response. Those scars didn't come from nothing, and neither do her own- even if no one can physically see any on her. Drawing her breath out again, the words are coaxed out in a manner as to be nothing too personal, nothing too distant. Something that can be comfortably taken as whatever he may.
"People fear things they do not understand. You, too, are a product of your environment. But... as a mother..." She pointedly looked at him this time, her eyes firm with a resolve only years of seeing can deploy, "I think she would have been happy you survived. I would have been devastated if I couldn't protect..." A single tear slid down her face, surprising her enough that she stopped speaking for a moment in the pure pain of just thinking about 'if she couldn't protect her children'. Swallowing the lump that was growing in her throat with the thought, she took a moment to regain her composure and look away again. "I don't think I'd be able to forgive myself if my child died in front of me while I survived. No matter how old they got."
Picking and choosing words doesn't always come easy when she knows what she wants to say so often these days. Still, her eyes were on the waves, small and crashing against the rocks, and her feet, and his chains. "If you wonder about the bystanders, then ask yourself if you before anything happened to you would have put yourself in harm's way for a stranger. There aren't always people out that have the mentality to do so unconditionally. Many people are out there, looking out for themselves and their good. It can be daunting, to be different in a world that wants only the same. To be the one to stand up, be Robin Hood, be Decebalus, it's not easy. It's not simple. And you have to put their lives above your own, even knowing they may never appreciate it. Some people ask where the heroes are, but I think they're out there, somewhere. Just lost in a sea of non-heroic fears and doubts of their own abilities and desires. Unfortunately, the innocent are the ones that suffer most because of it." Chancing a look back at him, such a slight smile that it could look less like one if she had been smiling at all before crossed across her face. "Guess that means you were innocent."
Once again, the words Avalon spoke were true to the situation as if she were Idris himself. Pain was a funny thing. Once you start knowing how it feels, it opens up a new reality, and then you fall into a place where your experiences apply to others' as well. Simply put, pain spoke for itself. Those who hurt needn't share a thousand words to understand each other, and that was how it was with Idris and Avalon. While she spoke, Idris listened, watching his shackles dance around in the moonlit water. Admittedly, he wasn't exactly prepared to revisit old memories under these circumstances, but part of him was glad he did, because the memory of his mother's dying breath, all the needless arrests and executions in the slums, and the pain he endured in his own arrest, it all gave him a fresh reminder of why he was revolutionizing the world in the first place. He felt a new flame kindle within him.
Idris would offer Avalon a simple smirk in return for her words. He had much to say himself, but in the event she disagreed with his philosophies, this evening would likely take a turn for the worst. "Well, that's why I'm here now I suppose," He began once more, glancing over her shoulders as she turned away from him. "Though I wouldn't consider myself a hero. I simply aim to...level the playing grounds a bit. Everyone deserves the chance at a taste of freedom, and I will be the one to offer it. How nice the world would be without war, wouldn't you agree?"
His shackles would begin to glow towards the bottom, illuminating the water with a nice blue glimmer. Idris was, needless to say, radiating with energy. He was truly compassionate about his 'cause', which some would find admirable. Others brushed off his goals as something redundant or impossible...how foolish they were to think that. "That said, what are you searching for, Avalon? I'm sure you have much to offer this ungrateful world yourself." He would shift the conversation back to her, looking in her direction while he waited for her response. It was clear she had seen about as much as Idris did, if not more, and was clearly much older than he. A woman like her was certainly filled with endless experiences, and that was something Idris valued almost as much as his revolution.
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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.