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.
Winter had kissed the private mountainside bordering Lorsette's Starlight beach with powdery, soft snow layering over the once lush green lawns and dappling the clean-trimmed rose bushes with a frosty dusting of white. Unsurprisingly, tradition was kept intact this holiday season and the strong ebony gates of Rosevier Manor were open for the annual Christmas Gala. White sparkling lights festively hung from the grand structure and the arched windows bestowed a strong glow of light from the inside exterior, with the view of countless guests swarmed inside. Even the tall, historically preserved Angel-statue fountain sitting right in the middle of the front courtyard was surrounded by blossoming poinsettias and ornamental kale.
The Christmas Gala was an event hosted by the Roseviers every year as a pleasant holiday gathering for all those of important alliance, those who'd served the Roseviers well, and perhaps a few luckily chosen smaller connections, were welcomed through the otherwise private domain's doors. It was a low-key event intended for jovial company.... or, so would say Eleanor Rosevier, Lady of the Manor. In reality, it was a formal event and often used by the adult attendees as a means of keeping their connections and snooping into the lives of any possible competition under the guise of holiday spirit.
An estimated twenty-something guests had arrived through the foyer, of which was decorated in beautifully coordinated garlands with the chandelier tied in silver ribbons to former get into the Christmas pageantry. The hired staff had greeted all who'd arrived, taking their coats and purses, while vehicles were asked to be parked by the Chauffeur near the beginning of the property to avoid crowding the courtyard. Not a single hand was raised by Eleanor Rosevier to make arrangements of festive decorating and all had been done by the staff, slaving away the past week to ensure all the wildlife were cared for, none of the garlands were slouching from their place, and the tall pine tree standing in the living area was kept clean with fallen needles regularly swept away.
While the manor had truly outdone itself in being an elegant embodiment of Christmas, all of it was done with mature tastes and a clear preference for the colors of white and silver beyond the more so natural arrangements of greenery such as holly, mistletoe, and pinecones. Most of the guests who'd entered through the doors had complimented how stunning everything were displayed, and as always, the unspoken rule of ensuring all had spoken the right words and behaved just in the right way in order to remain on good standing prevailed.
Most of the company had been gathered into the primary living area, walls widely spread and the ceiling so tall one would imagine they'd instead stepped into a cathedral or extravagant hotel's lobby instead of what was intended to be the primary living room for a home. The staff was busily bustling about, regularly checking on the guests, tidying about the first floor to ensure all the decorations were still in place, cooking the meals in the kitchen, and checking on the appetizers displayed in the dining room attached through the nearest doorway to the living area. One of Eleanor's hired helpers were sent to fill the gala's event with piano music, befittingly Christmas classics. Despite the vastness of the room exteriors, loud chattering voices and occasional snobby laughter paired with the continuous pianist's melodies filled the open halls quite well.
Alfonse had felt completely out of place at the gala, despite having been used to such events growing up. This.... was unlike the past gatherings he'd accompanied his parents too, however. This was the first gathering spent with his relatives... and he had barely been acquainted with even his grandmother since arriving only a couple days ago. And, somehow, his cousins had completely vanished elsewhere as did his mother. This left him near the giant Christmas tree next to the piano which also happened to be where his grandmother stood. Since it was a formal event, he'd worn a black suit and a white cotton button-up dress shirt underneath. They were surrounded by a small group of men, and one woman, whom were business associates of his grandfather's... and Alfonse had found himself politely smiling, nodding, and trying his hardest to conceal his immense anxiety with being placed on the spot. Unfortunately, he was unable to hide his nervousness.
He wasn't allowed to use his pendant's charm to hide away his wings and was instead even reprimanded on the idea. He was to keep them out, so that others would know exactly whom he was.... and throughout the entire gala thus far, Alfonse had found himself a subject of shallow interest as several hands reached to grab and prod at his feathers, some individuals comparably noting Elodie and their memories growing up with her, speaking of his grandfather, while entirely lacking interest in getting to know the boy personally. He couldn't have been any more uncomfortable but Alfonse willing pushed through with a docile smile, his gut turning at the pressure surrounding the seemingly harmless gathering. He knew the importance of being here... of meeting his other family and being welcomed into their world. Being surrounded by strangers.... whom his mother had repeatedly reminded him could make him or his mother miserable if he made a mistake or acted out of place. He knew that with barely having a true relationship with anyone here, only living up to an idea, he was standing on delicate grounds... and was cautious of himself and his behavior.
With loud chatter surrounding them, Alfonse anxiously glanced away from the guests before him to see if he could find his mother anywhere, before Eleanor placed a hand on his shoulder. This brought his light-colored gaze back over at once as she said, "Yes, well it is truly an honor to have my daughter and grandson here. We should be moving on the gift exchange shortly," A larger man with slicked back dark hair and a big gut held back by the tightness of his penguin suit gave a friendly, hearty chuckle that was albeit quite suppressed. "Yes, yes, drinks and gifts! The Roseviers know how to throw a holiday bash don't they!" In delight, he took a big swig of his red wine.
TAGS : Alida Honora --- mentioned: n/a --- NOTES: hope this is okay! <3
So tell me the sin of the angel with dirtied wings and how she was tainted by the tastes of the wicked. And how is it then that she can still fly on those
NOTE: Here's a picture of Alida's formal outfit. ♥
Her mother was a hypocrite for not attending, but it hadn’t come as a surprise to her. Alida feigned a polite smile, and a wave of her hand, as she drew passed the Norwood family, intending to disappear into the crowd that had gathered within the main hall of the Rosevier Manor. Mrs. Norwood, however, placed a hand atop her shoulder, and stopped her from her intended retreat. “Where’s Ivory, dear?” Ivory was the only child of the Norwood’s and had been entrusted as her chaperone for the evening. However, like many times prior, the rambunctious sixteen year old had played the disappearing act again.
Alida’s lack of response and Mrs. Norwood’s knowledge of her daughter’s antics supplied the woman with the answer to her question. “Well, she’s probably disappeared into the study with the rest of the youth, then.” Mrs. Norwood decided and began to glance around for another appropriate chaperone, but their attentions were drawn instead to the loud, guffawing, man standing before the Rosevier’s themselves and speaking of the gift exchange.
“Oh!” Mrs. Norwood’s expression lit up. “Do you see the boy there?” With all due subtlety, she pointed out the lone red-haired youth who stood beside Eleanor Rosevier and the stout dark haired man. “He is the grandson of Eleanor and Perseus Rosevier. Just look at those wings.”
‘Psh,’ Alida thought with a darkening look as she stared across the room at the other youth. ‘Oh, you mean that Angel guy everyone and their mother is babbling on about?’ She desperately wanted to complain. But, her better judgement kept her mouth tightly sealed. Her expression was rather unfriendly as she stared him down. Although, she was simply more lost in her own thoughts. She felt completely out of place at a gathering like this. She had never seen so many Heaven species gathered together before and she was pretty sure it made her want to vomit. And as she thought further on it she realized it really pissed her off that the Norwood’s and her mother had both associated her with Heaven. Ironically, despite their insistence on the association they had also forced her to hide anything that even remotely resembled her “fallen” status.
While she certainly didn’t want anyone to know she was a Fallen Angel, neither did she want to be associated with anything other than a Demon. Lorsette had given her an escape from the label she had lived under all of her life within Corner Brook. Coming out of her thoughts, and refocusing her attention on the glorified Rosevier Angel in the room, caused Alida to let out a heavy sigh and roll her eyes in disdain. She didn’t want anything to do with Angels and she couldn’t believe they were championing him around like some sort of family trophy.
Eleanor remained composed with a reserved air about her, even whilst receiving numerous complimentary and kind words of ulterior-motives from her party guests. The lone younger woman of the group competitively joined in on the compliments as she, too, wanted to ensure Eleanor Rosevier was made aware of her gratefulness towards being invited. "It's even more special than the other Christmas galas, being able to meet your lovely, darling grandson!" She cooed with a well-practiced admiring smile sent in the way of the Roseviers, " He really is quite the handsome young fellow, you must be proud!"Alfonse felt yet another rush of discomfort, his shyness reaching a point of nearly paining him with self-consciousness as he once more felt eyes searing through him expectantly. His smile nearly trembled from his anxiety but, just as shallow and ulterior-motivated as the compliment was, more eyes were focused on either Eleanor's face or Alfonse's wings. None were checking to see his actual face.
His lack of response had been of some relief to Eleanor, whom was glad the boy didn't vainly accept the compliment as she knew his mother used to back in the day. With a cold, thin smile stretched upon her high cheek-boned face, the woman's longer fingers curled along the thin shoulder frame of her grandson."Thank you, Marie. We do what we can to entertain those most cherished and valued to us,"Her voice arose even bigger smiles from those gathered before her as they eagerly went on to try and graciously respond to her on the woman's hospitality and their respects of Perseus's deeds not only as a businessman but as a human being himself. Blowing up the man's ego even while he wasn't present was a regular act during these types of gatherings.... for the social and economical rewards reaped from being close, in any form, to the man and his wife were well worth the efforts.
Alfonse had difficult understanding or relating to all he'd heard regarding the man tonight.... because, oddly, he had still yet to personally met him. It made him feel all the more misplaced... and pressured to find a way to respond while still being insincere... which was becoming more and more challenging for him as the night went on.
Once more, his light colored gaze roamed away from the gradually growing and changing group of people that'd wandered over to where his grandmother stood. Her fingers, curled around his shoulders, tightened in an almost possessive hold that prevented him from venturing off to find his mother... or find where else the other youth had gone to. It was by chance when roaming over the various heads and decorations inhabiting the room when Alfonse locked eyes with a blonde teen whom was the only other youth his age nearby.
Her gaze was uninviting, and... a-almost seeming as though she may have even be glaring his way. He wasn't sure if that's what she was doing, but... sh-she didn't seem the least bit happy. It immediately caused his face to warm, shying away from the accidental exchange of looks. Sheepishly, he lowered his gaze away from her and over to a random spot in the room... where he was met with yet another locked-gaze, this time with an older woman who grinned ear to ear as she stomped his way.
"At last, the Rosevier child I've heard so much of! How wonderful to make your acquaintance! " She cooed, walking around him in haste and grabbing one of his wings lightly from behind, lifting them from their drooping composure and causing his feathers to spread. "These certainly are your mother's!" Her sudden approach and even lifting his wing startled Alfonse, whom felt the stirring of a static shock in the feathers she'd made contact with and sending a zap to her fingers. It simultaneously shocked him, causing a twitching discomfort that made him turn around and away from her and caused for the woman to gasp a surprised "Oh!". He reached, pulling his wing against him, humiliated by the confrontation and feeling his heart race in his chest. I-It was too much.... this was all too much for him and he felt trapped by his grandmother's side, continuously bombarded by unfamiliar people. Eleanor noticed her hand being broken from its grasp and looked away from the man she was currently conversing with to her grandson, seeing the nervousness plastered on his face. A disapproving, muted stare was sent his way, watching his next move like a hawk.
"I-I'm very sorry!" Alfonse apologized, tucking his wing by his side and keeping a grasp on it... both to protect himself, and to protect the stranger from getting zapped yet again. His heart raced in his chest, feeling the static rumbling throughout the region of his wing that'd been grabbed moments ago. The woman offered a surprised laugh as a few confused attendees next to her honed their attention on the two. "I wasn't expecting that, oh my!" She went on to comment in astonishment before turning to look at the other two guests, "Be careful, the boy's wings may be pretty but they'll give you quite a zap if you touch them! It quite figuratively and truly shocked me," A man curiously rose his brows, and soon Alfonse was met with amusement as a few others chuckled at the incident, shaming him into silence. He could no longer keep his gaze attentive, his eyes falling to the floor as he once more stepped back and put more distance between himself the group in a growing paranoia of preventing further accidents.
Eleanor belatedly stepped in after having observed how Alfonse handled the situation on his own. "Then, perhaps you should ask before you touch him as to not give him a fright," The woman's calm yet coldly spoken response held enough power merely by her social status for the laughing to halt and their smiles to be wiped off their faces upon realizing that their reaction had bothered the lady of the manor. The woman, in particular, was more so shunned and tumbled over her words as she tried correcting her behavior. "O-of course, I-I apologize! I-I got too wrapped up in the excitement of just.... m-meeting--!"
Alfonse's grandmother, once more, took Alfonse by the shoulder and guided him away. At first, his fear of shocking someone else caused him to tense, but as though spared by luck he felt no static discomfort in anywhere but his wings and his grandmother seemingly felt nothing upon touching him. A soft, quiet exhale left him as his gaze was lifted from the floor, rising to look up at his grandmother's face while she continued guiding him away from the Christmas tree and towards the opposite side of the room. "You've done well enough tonight meeting our guests. We will be starting the gift exchange momentarily and it is time you join the other youth in the study," A huge relief swelled inside Alfonse's racing chest upon hearing it was time to move on with the event. Such relief was temporary, however, as his grandmother guided him towards the Norwood family where the very same blonde girl whom he'd accidentaly locked glances with before stood.
"Ah, Mrs. Norwood. A pleasure to see you this evening," Eleanor greeted, her long dress nearly grazing the floor behind her and sweeping forward in an elegant light sway. She let go of Alfonse, whom offered a friendly greeting smile the family's way but initially focused more so on the older woman.... only because he was still embarrassed about the chain of events. "I hope the gala is to your family's liking,"
So tell me the sin of the angel with dirtied wings and how she was tainted by the tastes of the wicked. And how is it then that she can still fly on those
The annoyance Alida felt toward the white-winged angel became momentarily lost as she watched a throng of guests circle around him and Eleanor Rosevier. In muted surprise, she watched one of the women brazenly reach out to grope and caress his wings. The visual of such a disrespectful invasion of personal space instantly caused her to shiver in revulsion. Alida held her own set of black wings, and would have never allowed other people to treat her in such a way.
Judgemental eyes narrowing, Alida didn’t give the grandson the benefit of the doubt. Instead, she envisioned him to be reveling in the attention he was receiving, and the way they all practically worshipped the ground he made holy by merely walking on.
Alida forcefully drew her own attention away from the scene, bringing her gaze to Mrs. Norwood to ask, “Where’s the study again?” However, the silver haired woman was far too preoccupied with the scene to look away, or even acknowledge her for a good few minutes. It was only through Alida’s deep sigh that Mrs. Norwood eventually drew her attention to her.
“Hm? Oh, yes, a chaperone we were looking for, were we not?” The woman murmured, still clearly distracted, as she looked around the hall. Motioning for Alida to follow, the two began through the crowded room while Mrs. Norwood looked for an appropriate family’s youth to catch and assign chaperone. However, before she had been able to secure the position, they were unexpectedly greeted by the Rosevier’s themselves.
“Ah, Mrs. Norwood. A pleasure to see you this evening. I hope the gala is to your family’s liking.”
“Oh, of course!”
Mutely, Alida watched the two married women converse with one another in such polite, politically correct, and boring overtones that she quite literally wanted to induce vomiting and throw up over them all. She’d get an actual real reaction from them, then. On second thought, even then she probably wouldn’t have. Not only would she have to project vomit she would then have to fall down on the floor, erratically convulsing, in order to see any sort of real reaction from them.
The mental image such thoughts induced caused Alida to very subtly snicker as she turned her gaze away from the company to try and compose herself.
“My niece has lost her chaperone to the study,” Mrs. Norwood admitted, sounding ever so slightly under duress, possibly from the fear of not trusting or understanding her eighteen year old “niece’s” limits or boundaries. However, when Alida brought her gaze to them, Mrs. Norwood was pleasantly surprised by the reserved and respectable greeting she gave Eleanor Rosevier along with her polite smile.
Upon Mrs. Norwood vocalizing her niece being in need of a chaperone for the upcoming secret santa festivities, Eleanor didn't allow a moment to spare. "No need to fret. My grandson will accompany her. I wouldn't want for your niece to miss out on the highlight of the night," She offered, not allowing Alfonse to speak for himself and instead offered his services to her.
With all the the activity surrounding them, Alfonse's mind was in a mild buzz of trying to process it all... especially after being persistently stuck in anxiety-inducing socialization. He didn't even feel like himself at this point, nearly numb to his own being. He wasn't 'Alfonse', he was the Rosevier's grandchild.
Even then... while he tried not to put too much thought into it, it more so felt like he was an animal to watch and grovel at. However, he did hear what his grandmother stated, and it caused his smile to soften as his gaze lifted to the young lady whom had been stranded from the other youth just as he was.
Her demeanor was different than the adult guests, unlike them with their rehearsed poised smiles and forced hearty laughter. Had it not been for their locked eye-contact a few minutes ago, Alfonse wouldn't have felt quite as edgy around her but unfortunately it would be unlikely for him to relax at all tonight. There was too much to watch out for and too many silent rules and etiquette to follow.
"Go on, now," Eleanor gave a pat on his back to nudge him onward, shortly after she'd proposed his services. Her hand had unintentionally grazed his wing, but unlike the woman who'd grabbed them relentlessly, the little zzzt that sparked at her finger tips didn't shock her. It did, however, cause his back to stiffen and for Alfonse to immediately step away from her. Slowly inched closer to the foyer as he looked over to the girl and invited her along with the same smile as before, "A-ah, yes, please follow me this way,"
So tell me the sin of the angel with dirtied wings and how she was tainted by the tastes of the wicked. And how is it then that she can still fly on those
In a single second, Alida became the envy of the room. With her expression painfully snagged in a polite smile, the eighteen year old forced herself to remain stiffly indifferent to the gossip that immediately erupted around them. The Holy Angel had become her guiding light to show her the righteous path to the manor’s study. Oh, what would she ever do without him? Alida rolled her eyes as soon as they were out of eyesight of Mrs. Norwood and Eleanor Rosevier. Her expression quickly dampened in a more subtle unfriendliness.
“So what’s your name, kid?” She asked while shoving her hands into the top pockets of her dress pants. But, the pockets were ridiculously small, sewn as an aesthetic design. She was left awkwardly glancing down, trying to shove her hands in but to no avail. In the end, she resigned to crossing her arms over her chest. But, as she briefly glanced around, noting the stares, she began to grow wary over her own attitude. It would have been smarter to continue to remain polite; This was the star Angel of the night, after all, and both her and the Norwoods would receive shit if she screwed this up. “I mean, Angel dude.” —Er. Well. This wasn’t working.
An escape from the primary party gathering area for all the adult guests was, at last, found as Alfonse had survived one last walk through the exit and entered the foyer where a dazzling reflection of chandelier lights cast over them. He tried not to walk too quickly, not wanting to rudely walk ahead of Mrs. Norwood's niece nor seem too eager in walking out of the first party destination... but thumping rapidly inside his chest was the buzz of anticipation.
Alfonse checked over his shoulder to make sure the other girl was still right behind him, also consciously wanting to check that his wings were kept low and within his own personal space. Upon walking up to the twin-stairway guarded by the towering statues of roman-inspired marble angels, he slowed from his steady walking though kept right on track. The left stairway led to the guest wing, of which also happened to be where the study was. Alfonse was still learning where everything was at, having barely been at the manor for a few days, and everything was... intimidatingly huge. Even the angels they passed were taller than either of them, empty eyes piercing through the cool void of air.
“So what’s your name, kid?”
Alfonse, now being away from the ever so tense watch of his grandmother, was able to bring his gaze towards the other girl without as much self-consciousness of how he looked at her. His expression was mild and gentle, although immediately turned shy when she referred to him as 'angel dude'.
"I'm Alfonse," His soft voice introduced with a returning, but more so relaxed polite smile in thanks to the new found peacefulness of the isolated hallway engulfing the spiral staircase they traveled upon. The piano music from below, as did the voices of the adults, muffled and a near echo accompanied their footsteps as he slowed more to give the young lady more of his attention, "What's your name?"
So tell me the sin of the angel with dirtied wings and how she was tainted by the tastes of the wicked. And how is it then that she can still fly on those
The two of them had stopped directly before the large twin staircases and before the angel boy replied, Alida’s attention drew upward and toward the towering Angels set in marble. Her expression had settled into a frown, but upon hearing the kid’s response, she drew her attention back to him. “I’m Alfonse,” He introduced, a fakely polite smile wobbling on his features. Their interaction caused Alida to briefly glance back through the foyer, toward the entrance of the main room where the adults could be heard happily chattering. “What’s your name?”
He sounded more… ‘innocent’... than she had expected. But, she hadn’t thought he would be innocent-like at all. Her expression narrowed in a scrutinizing manner when she finally did look to him. She couldn’t believe that she was actually standing underneath two towering Angel statues when she was a Goddamn demon hybrid.
“Alida,” She did go ahead and answer him, nonetheless, and as she continued to stare at him she lifted one of her hands to gently begin stroking her chin. “So, Alfonse,” She casually continued, her expression riddled with her skepticism. “Why’s everyone obsessing over you, huh?”
A scrutinizing look worn upon the girl's face was unexpected, causing his growing ease found in being away from the party to halt. The same look on her face reminded him of earlier during the incredibly uncomfortable gathering... and Alfonse tried not to let it effect him, which was easier hoped for than done. He didn't know this girl well enough to truly determine if there was something more behind the face she gave him.
When she told him her name, Alfonse's smile warmed in friendliness as he continued to try and push through the unfamiliar grounds of being introduced to someone for the first time. "It's nice to meet you, Alida," Her hand stroked her chin, visibly in thought, and Alfonse had continued to pass through the corridors up the steps to further distance themselves from the loud christmas bash. However, upon hearing her own footsteps not following his in the same swiftness, he once more slowed and turned to face her.
“So, Alfonse. Why’s everyone obsessing over you, huh?”
Even in the emptiness of the foyer, attention followed him like a curse. He was hoping to not talk about himself and to have a normal conversation, o-or even just... silence. He felt increasingly pained in embarrassment by being asked questions and being placed on a pedestal that felt shallow, expectant, and cold. Tonight showed him he would never be able to live up to being a Rosevier and the skeptic look sent his way from Alida made him self-consciously flush in the face, dreading not only how noticeable the nature of the gala was but also how stupid it made him feel, standing there in the middle of it.
He didn't know how to answer her and hadn't been prepared for being asked 'why'. Even he didn't completely understand the dynamics circulating within the Rosevier's circles and what he'd been told, the answers weren't ones he wanted to say or accept as pertaining to his worth. He tried articulating a proper reason, carefully sorting through his thoughts and trying to formulate something proper to
Before anything else, though... he wanted to make make sure she didn't think the party was about him. The idea mortified him and frantically, he replied, "The party? This-- this is just something my grandparents host every winter! My mother and I are visiting-- w-well she'll be leaving soon... but it's our first time attending," With a quick misstep up the next passage of stairs, he almost staggered, but luckily the wall right next to him cushioned him from actually tipping down. He once more fumbled in a desperation to escape the topic from spiraling down a certain path and even tried to shift the focus over to Alida, "Have you been to one of these before?"
His conversing had turned stiff and awkward, which given the nature of the night, wasn't difficult for him to end up doing.
So tell me the sin of the angel with dirtied wings and how she was tainted by the tastes of the wicked. And how is it then that she can still fly on those
NOTE: Oh gosh, I didn't expect Alida to be this way. She's being mean! : (
“The party?” Alfonse had stopped more than halfway up the staircase when she had spoken to him, and as she stepped into place a few steps below him, he seemed to openly fret and fumble around in finding an explanation. But, Alida arched a single brow as she stared up at him, wondering why he was going on about the party when she had specifically asked about him. “This— this is just something my grandparents host every winter!” He distraughtly exclaimed and Alida promptly realized that he was becoming defensive over the question she had asked and more or less insisting the party had absolutely nothing to do with him.
Apparently, she had kind of, sort of, scared him, because he was all of a sudden attempting to climb the stairs again (possibly to get away from her) and actually tripped, falling artfully into the wall with grace and nimble. Well, if she were to be completely honest, seeing the kid so pathetically distraught and falling over himself did bring her a twinge of guilt, and she realized she might have been a bit unfair in taking her anger out on him. Still, it pissed her off how he allowed all of the guests to gush and overpraise him. Despite his wonky attitude, she felt he had to be a pretty vain person to just soak it all up like he had been.
“Doesn’t matter,” She interrupted him before he could ask her about whether or not she had attended a party like this before. She came up beside him on the stairs and started up further, turning to glance down at him as she went. “Doesn’t matter if you’re just visiting. That’s not what I asked. Doesn’t change the fact that everyone and their mother are all trying to get their grubby little hands on those beautiful, holy, sacred, white wings of yours.”
She paused to glower back at him, a feeling of bitterness swelling in her heart. “Better watch out, gobbling up all that praise, they might just rip them clean off your back.”
“Doesn’t matter,” The other youth interrupted him,surpassing him on the spiraling guest wing stairway and turning to glance downwards at him as she did so. The wall-cushioned fall he'd awkwardly exhibited as a result of his floundering articulation had caused and even more self-consciousness to pit in his stomach... as did the glance she'd sent his way from where she stood, having no towered above him.
He was kept at a halt in his walking, by now the ever so growing isolation from the gala shenanigans from the first floor falling into a murmur within the private passage. Prompted to tilt his head up to look at the other teen, Alfonse could see a disdain swimming within her expression, displeased with his chosen response and correcting him on having attempted to sway around the directness of what she'd asked to begin with.
The nature of tonight's gala had seemed to curse him, rendering Alfonse unable to escape the mortifying attention, whether if it were by the hands of the very people who'd degraded him into a circus animal of the Rosevier's ownership or someone his around his age, so bluntly pointing out the treatment he'd endured... with clear disdain.
It may have been the most honest words he'd beheld from another individual tonight, but they were merciless and Alfonse felt extremely embarrassed and ashamed, his heart sinking in his chest, for he could read into the bitterness of her display and see exactly the type of person he'd be made out to be in her eyes.
None of this was what he wanted. He hated the way others plucked at him, shockingly rapid and persistent than the parties his own parents had once attended. His grandmother's fingers, digging into his bones to keep him in place and watch his every nervous twitch, and the loss of his own control of his body entrapped him under the pressure that Rosevier Manor hadn't held back from inflicting. Gradually ticking away and pulling a part feather upon feather before what stood there... was no longer himself, but merely Rosevier flesh.
It was becoming an increasing fear over the past few days that'd been unkind, and having someone... a complete stranger read into the scenario, particularly the inhumane treatment and how he'd said nothing of it, shunned him into disgust with the feathers on his back and abashed him with not wanting anything to do with himself. He... was sick of himself, and he was able to understand the bitterness and judgement she'd shown down at him.
Her passed opinion of him having enjoyed the attention had still hurt him, however, his face warming as his eyes wavered away from her. What could he say? Wh-what... was appropriate for him to say? It was the wrong question for him to wonder, but his fear of the walls listening to the words that left him... of the girl telling others and having it reach back to his grandparents... effected how he would answer her.
Watery dampness collected in his eyes and Alfonse, frustrated, held himself back as he begun catching up with the distance that'd been placed between them. His footsteps lightly echoed, the dim candle-lit floor of the guest wing peering just above them at the top of the stairway. His heart heavily beat, wanting to rid of her accusations that he wanted praise, but the moments passing of his silence made it increasingly hard for him to say what he'd truly wanted. Of how he was scared of doing anything about it, knowing the type of people his family were.
A shaking breath escaped him, nerves ravaging more intensely as they reached the guest wing's open floors with windows casting a moonlight view of the beaches not too far away from the mountain they currently stood on. At the very end of the hall was an open door, warmly lighting the otherwise rather dark demeanor the wing. The mood of the room, already from an outsider's ears, was different than the party down below. Rowdier, boyish laughter and the sound of crackling fireplace wood became the most prominent senses. "I-I don't know..." He finally begun, but his voice had nearly bunched into a knot in his throat, causing him to quietly gulp with his face remained lowered though visibly shown in more worry as the anticipation of entering the study awaited them, "Why everyone is reacting the way they are,"
That was the most honest answer he could provide her without getting in trouble and even then that was still him speaking out of terms. He had ideas of how he'd been compared to his mother, but he still was uncertain of the strong reactions. He didn't feel comfortable divulging more about specifically "Angel-hood" and disliked talking about it, but talking about himself in general was something he was having a hard time getting out of this evening. Now that they were gone from the party, about to enter a new one, he'd tried to make amends with the poor taste he left with Alida. Alfonse gravely wanted to hide his wings away by the one last gift his father had left with him. The ability to sheath them away so he could be himself. However, he knew the repurcussions of that and until he knew they were safe from adult vision, they needed to stay out. "It may be because of my grandparents, or something concerning the family. They wanted to introduce me to their colleagues... but all of their touching, I-I don't know know why it's been so much tonight... and I don't want... any of it," He elaborated quietly, his breath almost hitching as he quickly glanced over his shoulder. Just a breeze tapping against the window glass...
The sound of something small and made of glass shortly shattered somewhere likely within the study and a loud, warning and mostly boyishly sounding "OHHHH" sounded afterwards. The party inside... didn't sound inviting. The relaxation he felt being separated from the rest of the gala had long been tossed out the window, starting with how he'd made himself look like a complete brat to this girl... and was extremely worried he'd done the same with the other youth. The night couldn't be over any sooner.
TAGS : Alida Honora --- mentioned: n/a --- NOTES: this is going unexpectedly!!
So tell me the sin of the angel with dirtied wings and how she was tainted by the tastes of the wicked. And how is it then that she can still fly on those
The words she had lashed out with had been met with silence. The slightly taller boy hadn’t said anything in return as he took her further down the hall, and looked as though he were sulking from where he walked beside her. Such a pathetic sight only further angered the eighteen year old female and caused her to broodily glance away from him. His pitiful nature left her with an unwelcome feeling of guilt. Argh, all things considered, she had probably been too hard on him. There was no question about the fact that she had been a complete asshole, but there was just something about him that really pissed her off, something that she just couldn’t stand.
They reached the guest wing’s open floors soon enough and at the end of the hall was what she presumed to be the study, the door open and a warm yellow light filling the wing. With the end of their journey in sight, and the Angel’s persistence in remaining silent, Alida assumed rather confidently that he held no intention to say more to her. Which she would be completely fine with; she would be glad to part ways and, if she were lucky, never have to deal with him again.
Apparently, her pompous instinct had been wrong, because the Angel-boy actually stopped when they were a good few dozen feet away from the study, and spoke his mind, “I-I don’t know… why everyone is reacting the way they are.” Unfortunately, his answer did nothing to soothe Alida’s annoyance.
When she turned to look at him, her expression remained unfriendly even after noting the way he stared at the floor like some sort of little child who had just been scolded. His pitiful state did affect her with guilt, but his stupid, ridiculous, comment completely overrode it. He “didn’t know why” — was he seriously being serious right now?
“It may be because of my grandparents, or something concerning the family,” Alfonse continued to try and explain himself right out of the fault, and Alida didn’t know whether to believe the sod was just that hopeless or to think that he was feigning the entire thing in order to draw in the sympathy pools. “...But all of their touching, I-I don’t know why it’s been so much tonight… and I don’t want… any of it.”
Alida continued to scrutinize him. However, at the sound of shattering coming from within the study room, her gaze had momentarily jerked toward the double doors. The Rosevier’s grandson was standing before her acting like a child. But, it was extremely obvious he was someone around her own age. He was slightly taller than her and had the right body build and shape of someone around sixteen or seventeen. Yet, here he was moping, whining, and almost coming to tears. What a con artist.
“Then maybe you should, y’know, grow some balls and actually do something about it?” She told him in annoyance. There was a twinge of guilt that constricted at her heart. But, she was so wrapped up in her own suspicions and doubts that she had already practically condemned him.
His blonde companion was unchanging in her demeanor after he'd hesitantly made another attempt at answering her and had tried being more so honest and open... something that the gala didn't encourage their party guests to do. Everything was a face... and a game of climbing an invisible, glorified ladder. The event was intimidating, but somehow, being away from it all and with one person... who passed a polar opposite judgement made him feel more so horrible and suffocated by the pressure of behaving one way or the way. She visibly couldn't stand him and Alfonse was gutted the very moment she responded with an initial attack of dagger-eyes that served as a warning of what would soon come. It wiped any form of emotional strength he had to put on a forced, polite smile or any other attempt of a shield to protect himself from what his instincts told him would be of no gentler nature than the cruel vision now embedded into his head of his wings being ripped from his body in a blood-bath of fakes grins and pompous guffawing.
“Then maybe you should, y’know, grow some balls and actually do something about it?”
Alfonse's face, without his control, immediately dropped in devastation from the girl's hostility. His heart dropped from his chest down to the pit of his stomach... not shocked by her distinct disliking of him, but feeling hurt and kicked to the floor by the nature of what she said. He wasn't used to hearing things such things... m-more so vulgar things, around him... nor had he been directly, aggressively spoken to with them. This girl... couldn't stand him, and... he was completely demolished by her hatred and challenging of his behavior.
His fingers quivered and he could feel his face, burning hotly, on the brink of unraveling in tears from the weight of all his social encounters. This girl was nearing the last of what he could handle before crumbling away. When he was pressured by his family to be one way, then scolded by another for not being another... wh-what was he supposed to do? How could he tell people more powerful than him 'no'? She... sh-she hated him... and was hurtfully more personal and attentive to who he was as a person than anyone else... even his mother. It shouldn't have mattered as much as it did, but what she said... a-all through the insensitivity and offensive slang, had been what made his heart feel like it was going to burst in defeat from his actions speaking against it.
Alfonse quickly looked away from Alida and this time, he didn't look at her again as he hid himself off from her with a slight turn of his shoulders. His vulnerability rendered him unable to compose himself again and he didn't want for her to see him with only the side of his cheeks and dropping wings falling down past the length of his back in clear view as he walked. A nearby door burst open, a tall girl with ginger hair pulled into a tidy bun and a lace-armed short dress exiting through what looked to be the lavatory. Due to how the doorway was ahead of them, she didn't take notice of the two and urgently made her way to the glowing entrance of the study, her stride seeming to resume a more so smooth pace upon making her entrance.
The study's walls were caked in bookshelves of various readings, being organized well and one section vividly being of antique and historically valuable books. Only one wall, straight across from the doorway, had a canvas absent of the bookish assortment though this was largely for the reasoning of a grand taking up most of the exterior's space. At the center of the room was a comfortable looking couch with two love seats positioned on either sides of it. What powerfully illuminated the expansive room was the grand fireplace, crackling wildly from burning wood and strong flames only contained by the barred cage in front of it. A christmas tree decorated in more so colorful ornaments and lights stood tall, nearly touching the ceiling, in front of the window which caused the view to be blocked.
Underneath it were various packages and located on the coffee table were supplies that would presumably be related to the Secret Santa gift exchange. The room itself was filled with loud chattering of the gala's youth, estimated to be around ten or eleven bodies, four of which had surrounded a fallen snowglobe that'd shattered upon being knocked off the fireplace. Water spilled around it, glittering from the artificial snow that'd once swam within the glass, and with all four of the boys holding pillows stolen from the furniture the scene wasn't hard for the ginger haired girl to piece together what'd happened.
Her fine arched eyebrows rose, the plump lipsticked lips of her mouth tight and not seeming amused by the explosion of activity that'd occurred when she stepped out. Her twin brother, Troy, was of course at the center of the destruction with being hunched over the glass and trying to scrape all the shards together while the three other boys snickered and whispered of how he was in trouble. They were right... well, partially so. All of them were in trouble and as her heels clicked across the smooth wood floors their eyes fell on her.
"Ohhhhh, there she issss!" One older teen cooed in warning, another boy joining in with immature 'ooo'ing for a third time. Troy looked up from the mess, his freckle-splotched face staring up at his smirking sister. Weakly, looking as though he were a child caught in the act by hs mother, he greeted, "H-hello, Lydia... I can explain--"
Tsking, Lydia folded her arms. "This is what the whole lot of you decided to do while I use the lady's room? You're all so immature. Can't I be gone for two minutes without there being disarray?" Defensively, one boy tried to stick up for himself by hastily stating, "It wasn't me, okay? It's Troy, he swung the pillow too hard and nearly knocked me into the freaking fire!" "--Yeah! Yeah, we were just talking then suddenly Troy starts attacking us with a pillow and it went out of control!" Another joined in, and Troy snatched a glare of horror their way. "Wh-what!? You're all liars, y-you, you--!"
A roar of argumentative voices arose from the group, the three seeming to gang up on Troy who's face flustered red like a tomato. "Enough. It doesn't matter who done it, now get out of the way," Assertively, the girl stepped forward without a moment's sparing and very slightly dismissed the boys with a wave of her hand, "Move. Immature boys..." The group dispersed, stepping and looking to themselves with snickering but mumbled words. Troy staggered to his feet and looked frustrated by whatever it was that'd taken place regarding the snowglobe but his sister didn't bother asking. With a circular, graceful sway of her hand a white glittering glow swirled from her fingertips and took on a rolling form resembling water. Pointing her fingers downward, the glow was concentrated down to the snow globe and begun lifting the shards off the ground. One by one, they were evenly pieced together like a puzzle, some re-assembling, before the glass was in its previous state except with a missing top. It was then when the water was guided into one large sphere and sploshed down through the opening, artificial snow fluttering about. The last piece of the glass was melded into the top, securing the mended snow globe back into its previous state.
With a pleased, yet composed smile she opened her hand palm first and her magic returned to her hand. Upon making contact, it faded, and she picked the snowglobe up into her hands. Troy's face scrunched at her and moodily he grumbled, "Show off..." "You should mess up more often. Cleaning up your messes gives me more to practice with," Lydia cockily retorted and with a spin on her heels, she faced the fireplace to put the snowglobe back onto the fireplace where it belonged. "It wasn't me!" Troy snapped, the boys who'd joined him before moving on with other shenanigans as they wandered over to the coffee table and got themselves more glasses of sparkling cider.
TAGS : Alida Honora --- mentioned: n/a --- NOTES: decided to type a scene! Alida can enter the study or join in whenever you would like = )
So tell me the sin of the angel with dirtied wings and how she was tainted by the tastes of the wicked. And how is it then that she can still fly on those
NOTE: Small post because Alida stops Alfonse in order to see what his face looks like right now! o:
The white winged male’s expression fell into complete devastation at hearing her words, and with a shock that turned her composure rigid, Alida witnessed the first real emotion of the night. The anguish that contorted his normally placid complection made him look as though she had just crushed him underneath the weight of her vicious words. When the boy abruptly jerked his gaze away, Alida spied the sheen of tears that looked to be welling within his eyes.
‘Was I wrong?’ The thought came to her and with brows knitted together in mute skepticism she continued to stare at his retreated back. ‘How could I possibly be wrong, though?’ She thought with anger, but she couldn’t shake the image of horror and desolation she had seen, however unintentionally inflicted it had been. Both confusion and skepticism only grew when Alfonse so dejectedly began to hobble away toward the study. However, the thought of tears and boogers streaming down his face had been powerful enough for her to reach out and seize his arm, forcefully drawing him back to meet her narrowed and determined gaze.
His heart heavily weighed in his chest, his shoulders shakingly lifting away from the direction of the other youth in the best way he could hide his face from her in an otherwise open hall. With the boasting roar of voices ahead of them, Alfonse felt no comfort or ease in what the rest of the night awaited for them. The others were going to find him just as disgusting for his display as the 'Rosevier Grandson' his grandmother had firmly paraded him around for, and there was no way he would be able to relax or act remotely at ease around any of them... it was too late now. He couldn't fix what he didn't say or do. What was done had been done, and he wasn't sure who he even was anymore. The person he'd been crushed into didn't feel like him... o-or even like a real person.
The most honest anyone had been with him was this girl, and even just by the scorning look she sent him she... was right. All of this was horrible... humiliating and horrible. He was mortified with himself... disgusted with himself and the wings plastered on his back. They had defined him and defeated him.... as though he were their accessory, and the person standing between them was...
Shaken out of his thoughts, Alfonse was suddenly grabbed by the arm, jerked away from his gloomy walk to the study. He was brought back a few steps, completely catching him off guard as he was forced to face the girl. Her hand that'd effortlessly brought him to face her caused his attempt of shielding away the tears that'd collected in his eyes to deteriorate, leaving him embarrassingly vulnerable in front of her.... large, shocked eyes filled with the very tears he hadn't wanted her to see, and a trembling arm within the grasp of her palm.
He was stunned in place for a moment, having not thought she'd pull him aside... and in that moment, he'd interpreted her physical response to him as aggression. His heart raced in his chest as quickly, with a flicker of fear in his face, he went to pull his arm away from her with the fleeing hopes of escaping her determined gaze. Their conversation up until this point led him to believe that this was the case, and he was... intimidated by her.
TAGS : Alida Honora --- mentioned: n/a --- NOTES: I liked your post a lot, and how Alida stopped him!
Do not use drama to get attention in the chat. Nobody appreciates it.
2
No advertising, we have a perfectly fine board for that.
3
Please try and keep swearing to a minimum in the chat.
4
All chat usernames should be PG-13 and not break the ProBoards ToS or site rules.
5
A Chatango account is not required, but it is encouraged.
6
Please avoid spamming the chat; accidents are understandable.
7
You may use the in-character chat prior to acceptance.
8
Be respectful to anybody who enters the chat, including guest, fellow members and staff.
9
Guests may speak in chat at anytime to ask questions or get a taste of our community~!
resource sites
affiliates
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.