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!
The different emotions being expressed after every word spoken only fueled Salem's inner fire, so when she replied back to him that this was not her home field, he only shook his head in slight disappointment. He of course did not mean fighting, and as he tried to make clear in the earlier performance, he held back a great deal. What he meant was that the elements around the duo suited them both for what they could do, making the show far more grander... however if his muse did not immediately get that, he felt no need to explain. "What a shame," was all the reaper said.
As the mood lightened back up, Salem calmly answered her query. "You still have my blade, don't you? You left me with little choice, as I clearly have no other weapon to aid in my performance." While Salem was a great swordsman, he wasn't an equally great marksman, and without either of his two weapons, there was no chance in all of hell he would be able to take on his fellow artisan without using his eye's power. Deciding to fish for more time until he was able to use it again, he proposed one final element to their play.
"I have no issue fighting bare handed against you. It'd be like a real dance, and while I'm a musician over dancer, I can adapt tonight... of course, as you were bleeding earlier, it looks like you need a minor handicap," the reaper said as he lightly teased the shadow lady while keeping track of how much of his energy was returning to him. "and to add to the performance, if you emerge ahead, I'll share with you one secret about me... and you may keep my blade. If I come out ahead, you must pay my my musical ensemble a visit."
As he finished that last sentence, he was a little under half capacity. Enough to get his vision back and majority of his other physical skills at least... but not enough for reading someone's soul, and so he only had her spoken word to go off of. "Sound satisfactory?" While he waited for an answer, he noted that the rift he opened remained open while he was resting. He would have to personally go and close it, else it was just wasting energy. He took a mental note of that for later.
If he was going to make such a fuss about it she'd give his sword back. Honestly, it was childish to throw a tantrum over something so small. She'd give it back to him and then disarm him so it came back to her true strengths. Fortunately, he offered a quicker alternative before she could open her big mouth and give him another advantage.
He went about making his offer in a display she'd never be so foolish as to mimic. The line between truth and lies, where words twisted the world to your every whim, was her actual home turf. His offer seemed plain enough, but there was too much talking. He'd spoken with an eloquence from the beginning, but she had to wonder if it was covering for something else.
She didn't know for sure, but she wanted to test her theory that he was killing time before they got into an actual fight. What reason could he have for dragging out words? It wasn't like he wanted to avoid conflict as he'd claimed before. "Sir, with all due respect, I was going to keep the blade either way." she said, playing along for a moment. She placed the blade at the base of the tombstone and stepped away from it, into his line of fire. Somehow she didn't think he'd shoot just yet. That would be awfully rude and she was pretty sure he wanted to keep her alive so they could keep playing.
"You know, you lied to me already and I think you're lying to me again." she observed. Would he care about lying? If he was like her she doubted it, but she wanted to test him in her true domain a bit before they got back to their performance. "You're not a musician, you're a poet. They're very similar, but there's a fine line between the two. You talk in pretty words, but music is more elaborate. It's more like a lie. It takes quick planning and an understanding of how the pieces fall into place. You just don't seem to have that."
"Oh..?" While he was taken back by her stating that she'd be keeping his long sword, he let it go. Of course, that left him bladeless, and thus at a disadvantage until he received a new one, he was confident he could most likely sway Ms. Xia to deliver him a new, more powerful variant. Closing his eyes briefly and nodding slightly, he obliged, however he took his sweet time responding. "If you'd like, alright." Salem was already thinking of different paths to take to victory, his hunting skills now coming in extreme handy. Maybe his mother wasn't all bad after all, he thought to himself. Checking himself, he was nearing half.
Salem watched Mikaela rest the blade at a nearby stone, retreating from it. At least his former blade would not suffer any damages. Seeing as now she now only possessed what Salem believed to be a lone little knife on her person, the musician holstered his firearm at his side, re-concealing it. Upon hearing the accusation of him lying, he felt internally hurt, but only let it show in his eyes, which were now over half.
"Not once have I lied to you thus far, Ms. Mikaela," he began, attempting to salvage his integrity. "As I said before, I am an artisan, and while I can be a poet, I do prefer the song my flute and violin play." Salem listened as the shadow lady further insulted his intelligence, getting rather annoyed. Humanoids will be humanoids... his new found muse was no exception, and so he switched things up yet again.
Allowing the rift to Purgatory to close, darkening the area once again, Salem looked around at his surroundings once more before looking back at Mikaela. He had a plan now. Instead of a stage, he would now act as if he was the hunter, and she was the prey, as he and his father once did... the memory briefly pained him. "The stage is yours... It's your move. Music is never a lie. Music is the phenomenon of putting feeling into the air or onto paper. What someone feels is never false, it always has truth in it. Song can be both quick... or you can play for the long epic."
As Salem spoke the rift behind him shut and a layer of shadows that didn't belong to her returned. She shuttered as they pooled through the graveyard, expanding beyond their natural depths in her moment of panic. Forcing herself to remain in control she took a breath and spread the shadows as evenly as she could. She couldn't completely get rid of shadows, but she would if she could. They were only hers to a certain point and once they crossed the threshold into a slick, oily substance she didn't understand she was utterly terrified of them.
"Everyone lies," she countered a bit too sharply, the strong reaction a combination of her newly triggered nerves and the fact that he was so completely wrong from her perspective. "You said you weren't looking for trouble, yet here we are. You claimed you wouldn't interfere with your puppets killing me. Sir, the very way you talk is a lie to cover for something else. Usually, I'd say you were tempering your words to keep your emotions in line, that's what people used to do, but that's not what's happening right now. Rather, you're following the same patterns I would in your situation. I wonder why it is you want to kill so much time." Behind her mildly teasing words were a carefully watching set of eyes noting every detail of his reaction.
"It's simply impossible not to lie when the truth is so finicky. Clinging to false hopes of honesty is a losing battle, and for what? Honor?" She huffed a laugh, making it clear that the word held no meaning to her. Maybe if she'd lived a different life she'd believe in such things as honor, but as it was all she saw was the pageantry behind it. "And music is more of a lie than anything else. It's a combination of grace and edge that sets the tone for your life, at least for the moments it lasts. It's among the most dangerous lies, the ones that genuinely change your view of the world while they have hold over you."
The grim reaper shrugged as a response, unable to find himself disagreeing with the shadow manipulator. Somehow, someway, the composer has taken a seat in the ensemble and is now merely being guided by his own words, turned against him in the most precise ways. Even so, Salem was not shaking. He was more impressed than anything.
To him, he of course was correct, however, even the best composition has at least one minor error or something at least that could have been done better. In a collected and cool manner, he responded as if he was speaking to a child. “You aren’t wrong in a way, Ms. Mikaela. I did indeed say I would not interfere with your death, however, seeing as I am the one behind the strings of it all, you are not right either,” he began. Wagging his finger with a sly smile, he continued, this time being far more careful of what he says. Clearly, the act of speech is something his speaking partner is adept in.
“If my ‘puppets’ of the dead did indeed kill you, it would have been by my will, order, and command, every action.” Again, he brushed a few stray strands of hair from away his odd eyes. “Therefore, my fellow artisan, by halting my group the moment you bled, I neither interfered nor stood idly by. Assuming the mind I control has a mind of its own, of course.” Satisfied with his response, his hand retreated back into his pocket. He ensured not to move during the entire little speech he gave, still sticking to the plan he has in mind. One insulting his intelligence in any category just simply would not do, and seeing how he was quite enjoying spending time with Mikaela, he would not allow it nor her to slip either.
Upon her mentioning honor, he scoffed. Such a concept meant absolutely nothing to him, even as he was wandering the many dimensions of Purgatory in his painful past. Had honor meant anything to anyone in the world, he would still be alive, nay he would be happy, even as a broken reaper. “Honor. Truth. Lies. The only thing that matters to a musician such as myself, regarding words, is how well they are put together, and if they mean something. Every lie is based in truth, and every truth can be twisted into a lie…” Salem stopped himself from going further, sighing. “However it seems like you’ve noticed my stalling. If you would like, I can tell you why, as I don’t really need any more time, and can continue our play whenever you’re ready. I do however agree with your take on life’s music somewhat...”
Ruby eyes, cool as the gems themselves, were trained on Salem as he spoke. Just like that he’d twisted the whole thing back to her. He was an arrogant, foolish man but that didn’t mean he wasn’t, in fact, skilled at what he laid claim to. She wasn’t wasteful enough to think she couldn’t learn something from him. She hadn’t expected such an interaction when she’d left her apartment. She’d been expecting someone that actually had cause to kill her or wanted to use her for information. She doubted Salem knew what information she held in the secrecy of her mind, and she wasn’t sure how much he’d care if he did.
Mikaela didn’t interrupt his symphony, enjoying the game too much to break the rules. He was wrong, of course. She could twist anything he said into him being wrong, and she was content to let that be his title, especially when he wanted so badly to be right.
"I don’t have to be right as long as you know you’re a liar." she shrugged. "It’s all a game of perspective, but you’ve still got it a bit backward. Every lie can be twisted into the truth and very few truths aren’t based on a lie of some sort. Personally I never bother with the truth. People don’t usually believe it from me, and it’s not what they want anyway. They may say they want honesty, but they’d prefer a pretty painting, even if that painting ends up cutting them."
Mikaela hesitated as she realized the trap she’d woven around herself. A simple denial was all it would take to negate everything she’d said. She spoke more fluently in lies than truth, but that didn’t mean she was ok with her words having no weight. She didn’t bother thinking through her example, more focused on the fact that it would throw him off the path she saw him taking in her mind. "You're as guilty of it as anyone else, content as you are to believe I'm some sort of artisan no questions asked."
With that, her procrastination was over. If he wanted to fight she’d fight and let him forget the words that had fallen from her lips before they came back to haunt her. "Before we begin Act 2 would you please define unarmed? Because I’ve met a lot of people with conflicted views on the matter."
Salem for the second time that night shook his head, but this time in earnest. “By your logic then, Ms. Mikaela, I don’t have to lie when I tell you you’re wrong, and this network of deceit means nothing right now to one of us, and everything for the other.” Salem purposefully left out which of them was which, leaving the statement absent in the air. On one hand, it may be true that Mikaela cared very deeply about the philosophy of truth, lies, honor, and the bigger or smaller pictures. On the other hand, it could be true that Salem himself cared about how conversations with such complex parts were woven together, and whether or not there was purpose and meaning behind each syllable.
One could even say neither of them cared, and only pursued on for the sake of the one standing before them. Any way it was cut, to Salem, this was simply wonderful, like a live action poem of old. Salem raised an eyebrow, curious as to why Mikaela believed she wasn’t an artisan, but didn’t push the matter too deeply, only giving a simple retort in response, “Thus says the one who dances around corpses with grace and befriends the darkest of shadows void of absolute fear.”
Ah, Act 2. Salem didn’t forget. Still having his plan in mind, he smiled, taking out his gun once again and threw it to the side as if it wasn’t custom made and irreplaceable, merely scrap in the way of a grander performance. “Normally, I would define unarmed as ‘one who bears no arms’, the entire limbs absent from the torso, however in this situation, I would define unarmed as ‘Salem without his firearm’.”
Salem was sure previously he said barehanded, however, perhaps Mikaela had alternate plans he had yet to think of.
Salem's words were pretty, but Mikaela was starting to get the feeling he was more like a neglected child than anything else. He was so excited by the mere prospect of someone to play with, and he was starting to act almost as reckless as her. She wasn't sure she liked that. Even if he had the skill to back up his arrogance, it was only a matter of time before he came across someone better than him and got burned. An uneasy feeling fell over her, one that she pushed away as soon as she noticed it. There was no need to be worried about a stranger.
"With all due respect, Sognatore*, that is the stupidest definition of unarmed I've ever heard." Her words were sharp, resembling a parent scolding a child too much for her comfort. She scowled and listed off her own terms in a non-negotiable tone. They were the rules they would be playing by if she had anything to say about it. "No blades, bullets, or other tools you have any previous experience wielding to bring physical harm to others."
She allowed him a moment to consider the terms before adding more detail. "Needless to say, that means if any of your corpse friends happen to have weapons they're fair game but you can't use the corpses themselves to fight your battle... Not without getting a little creative, anyway." Her eyes sparkled by the light of the moon. She liked this set of rules. It was exactly the type of game she excelled in and it would allow her to really test Salem's supposed artistic side.
Dutifully, she took inventory of the weapons on her, pulling out three knives from their various hiding spots. There was one more, but she wouldn't risk parting with it for this so she left it hidden. She threw the knives aside and pulled her hair in a smooth ponytail before stalking closer. "Assuming you still want to play, of course. I would hate to push you out of your comfort zone." He wouldn't say no. No one ever said no. Not when she approached them with that challenge in her voice. No one was ever kind enough to back down and save her the future guilt.
Sognatore... the word was foreign to the reaper, silently mouthing each syllable to see if he could break it down himself. While in its entirety Salem had absolutely no idea what it meant, he did recognize the first four letters, "sogn". That itself felt danish or german in nature, but meant something similar to community. He knew this based off the song he once written regarding local communities, and it so happened to be related to the Germany of old. Knowing this, he concluded that this couldn't be the case, and fell back on what he grew up knowing: Spanish. The word reminded him of the spanish word "sueño", to dream, and so, considering that Mikaela said the word as a descriptor, a word describing the musician, Salem concluded that the word has something to do with dreams. "Sognatore... dreamer, maybe?" He inquired, ready to be extremely wrong. He only analyzed the first four our of nine letters in such a short amount of time. "If so, what a unique thing to call someone else, Ms. Mikaela,"
Salem the Dreamer... it had a nice ring to it. He made a mental note to use it later. Relaxing a little bit, he continued with his response, "If you have a better definition of unarmed, I'm listening with open ears and mind." He said, thoughtfully, taking into consideration the rather sudden change in tone Mikaela exhibited. It resembled what he could only imagine irritation... if anything else, he wouldn't know, growing up with a seer and hunter as parents. The reaper, after hearing the change in rules, let out an audible 'tsk'. On the outside, he appeared annoyed, but on the inside, he smiled to himself. This was perfect, he could avoid using his eye anymore than he had to, and he could have some fun sparring with his muse.
Keeping his cold posture, he nodded his head. "All I have on my person are the clothes on my back, nothing more..." Salem paused as he had a sudden idea. The song was getting repetative, and so he intended to add some swing to it by playing off Mikaela's emotions and intentions. It was clear that she was getting comfortable, at least. With himself being comfortable the entire time, so he believed, he only wished to have a bit of fun. "However, I don't think I will be abiding by your rules, and that is no lie. I simply cannot see myself being that intimate with another, even in play, when I know they are less skilled than myself in both hunt and symphony-"
The very moment he finished muttering that word, he relaxed his body even more as he watched Mikaela prepare herself. Little did she know, they were still very within his comfort zone. Physical confrontations was something he excelled it, and so, the moment her hair was up, he sprinted forward with above average speed. As he ran, he allowed the loose fit clothes he was wearing to flow behind him, moonlight reflecting off the gold highlights. He silently wondered how she would respond to a sudden movement, being as agile as she was. She also never stated that her army of shadows was off limits, but he didn't care.
His vision, while nowhere near as clear as before, was good enough to react to her movements until she put effort in, he assumed. As for how he would react to her responses, he didn't know. For right now, he intended on only dancing in the moonlight. The moment he got close enough, Salem would quickly jab at the open space beside Mikaela's head if able, hopefully sending the message across that he was doing the opposite of taking this seriously, before backing off, standing stationary and looking down at her as he spoke again. "With that being said, I must point out to you, that indeed was a lie, and this is entirely up to you, Ms. Mikaela. You don't seem like the type to enjoy physical fights, and as a hunter in life, it's only respectful I point that out in my death." Clear were his words, and a fake smile he wore, as he spoke down to her like a brother would do a younger sibling, his eyes still as cold as ever.
Mikaela watched in amusement as Salem mulled over the word rather than the more important parts of what she'd said. It was admirable and something most people didn't bother with when she gave a nickname. He seemed to be as adept in languages as he was in twisting words because he came to the correct conclusion in a matter of seconds. She gave a short, approving nod. "That's what you are, isn't it? Il sognatore ad occhi aperti. The dreamer with open eyes... Daydreamer might be the proper translation but I think it leaves out the beauty of the words themselves. You have no idea how fascinating that makes you." She eyed him like a cat would its prey, eager to get back to testing his limits.
Surprise filled Mikaela's eyes as he began to deny her terms. Maybe he was boring after all. Just another guy not willing to be intimidated by a girl. It would be to his detriment. He hadn't given up on fighting, though. Rather he was trying to catch her off guard as he began a short sprint to close the distance between them.
Fast as he was, years of reflex training combined with the enhanced speed of her species made her faster. A jab aimed at her head missed by a few inches and she responded quickly, grabbing hold of the arm before it could pull away. She didn't hold his wrist firmly and he could easily pull away, but she was looking to prove a point in the slow build towards their dance rather than cause actual harm.
Her voice dropped to a low hiss as she warned him about his most obvious flaws. "You underestimate me, Sogna, and somehow you let that lead you to speak like a coward. If you're uncomfortable hitting a girl I suggest you continue on your way, I don't like people pulling their punches on me. I'm not a fighter, but fighting for enjoyment is rare enough, I wouldn't let this opportunity slip by."
A slow smile curved her face as she released his hand (assuming he hadn't already pulled away) and prepared for his next attack. "It's just a game, no one gets... seriously hurt unless they're careless enough to slip up. Far less risky than most of my gambles."
She wondered if he'd see what she was getting at in that one statement. It assumed they were on equal grounds and that they'd play fair, as she would ensure it would be. She had more experience fighting against specific arrogant styles more than anything else, so she was quite certain she had the upper hand and she wouldn't be the one to do any damage tonight. And if it turned out he did have the advantage he still wouldn't be getting hurt. For him it was a win-win. Maybe that's why he was so hesitant to play.
...ad occhi aperti. Salem knew it was quite obvious that Mikaela was skilled in more than one tongue, even so, the dreamer with open eyes was a title he didn't mind one bit. "Salem, the Dreamer with Open Eyes... or Salem, the Dreamer..." he was thinking out loud now, but he didn't care. Deciding that he enjoyed both titles but could only include one in his notes, he made another mental reminder to decide at a later date. "You're absolutely right, there's a lot of beauty in those words, thank you." He returned her gaze with his own, only less intimidating. What was she thinking, he wondered, before wondering what would become of the night.
As Mikaela grabbed his arm and held it in place, he raised an eyebrow, not shocked at her very quick reflexes, but at the fact that she is now actively touching him. Something he should have expected, since earlier she mocked the action, but didn't, entirely distracted by the actions and events he was participating in the entire time. Noticing that she could have followed up with quite literally anything else, he was happy to know that she shared his intentions of not doing real harm. Salem lightly tugged, pulling away and looking back at Mikaela as her tone shifted. Even in this more serious tone, upon hearing his new title Salem couldn't do anything but keep his casual demeanor until she mentioned Salem holding back because she was a girl.
It was very true that Salem held back an absolute absurd amount at all times, but it wasn't true that he gave more effort to one gender over another. The only promise that he swore his life to keep was made to someone he cared deeply for, and death be damned if he broke it now. "I hate to tell you, Ms. Mikeala, but I pull my punches on everyone. Gender doesn't matter. If your soul is dark and your deeds are vile, be it boy, girl, or something else entirely... you deserve death. As the executed criminal Robert Harris once stated, you can be a king or street sweeper, everyone dances with the Grim Reaper." He slid his hands back into his pockets, content with what he said.
"As you said, it's just a game to you, and a grand display of talent to me. There's no ill intents or feelings here, and I promise I'll match you blow for blow as much as I can." His words were sincere, and he hoped his muse could see that. "Are you ready to begin, Ms. Mikaela?" he asked, rolling his cuffs up.
Mikaela couldn't stop a soft smile as Salem mused over his new nickname. She'd never thought she cared what others thought about the names she called them, but a warmth flowed through her as he thanked her. As though someone flipped a switch, the feeling was replaced by guilt the moment she recognized the implications. Hadn't she just been deciding how to mess with him next? She didn't deserve to be thanked for anything. The gratitude was undoubtedly misplaced but she wasn't sure how to get him to retract the statement. She was too trapped in her own mind to try.
More words came, holding the same misplaced admiration. Any trace of a grin vanished from her face. Her soul may not have been dark but her deeds were most certainly vile. It was all too easy to misjudge her, and she didn't want Salem getting hurt when he realized how cruel she could be in the worst possible way.
"Maybe if I was born into a different life the colour of my soul would match the deeds I've done and the ones I've yet to do. As it stands, dear dreamer, I'm the rare case where what's inside doesn't count." The statement walked a line much closer to the truth than Mikaela usually stuck, and it was laced with an involuntary regret. She could try to redirect her life all she wanted, but she was stuck. Her past would always haunt her and some days it was hard to see how her future could be any different. She'd played this part enough times before to know it was only a matter of time before she cracked or someone from an old life came to tug her back under. It was the best she could hope for to seek redemption through her actions in her rare moments of clarity, but even that line was getting blurred in recent months.
Silently she cursed Salem for drawing her so deep into self-doubt and returned her attention to the present. "Very well," she said, accepting terms that weren't altogether clear to her. The only thing that was clear was that Salem intended to hold back, and that was something she couldn't allow. "To make this a fight worth trying to win, if you get me to yield you're free to ask me any one question and get an honest answer." She wasn't sure how much value Salem put in such information, but it was a standard offer for her when things didn't really matter. Her intentions had little to do with granting Salem something. It was more about proving to herself that she could be honest.
Without wasting any more time she positioned herself in a defensive stance, recalling years of training she'd never truly be able to forget before lashing out with a relatively slow blow toward Salem's right shoulder, more meant to test his reflexes than do any damage. She needed to be able to pull back quickly. It would be stupid to let inertia get the best of her before she knew what she was up against and fighting his dolls didn't seem like an accurate way to measure his own skills.
"My statement still stands, Ms. Mikaela," Salem replied back, "Everyone dances with the Grim Reaper." His tone was entirely grim, but he kept a scornful smile plastered across his face. While she may be his muse right now, in the future he knew that there was a chance that her inner self would grow darker and darker, until eventually, he would have to approach her again, but with far more hostility. He dreaded the day, but knew that there was nothing he could do about it. If life taught him anything, it was that people can indeed change, but that change is always for the worse. Sooner or later, all falls to darkness. As his mother did, a Seer of Heaven for gods sake, so did he. The lady of shadows was absolutely no exception.
Salem was sure that his own soul was as dark if not darker than most, but he told himself he'd ignore it until his goal was completed. The damned Dolores would answer for her actions, and only after the deed was done he would allow another to judge his soul properly. Until then, he was sure his song would continue to play or be played, either by him or a catalyst.
Returning from his morbid daze, he sighed lightly. "Ah, and speaking of dancing with death..." he smiled as she accepted his terms, happy he wouldn't be disappointing Mikaela and robbing her of a good performance. He laughed lightly in a playful nature, nodded when he finished. One question, one honest answer. While he was nothing like his family in the retrospect that he desired information, it was a term he previously used not too long ago in their performance, so he wasn't surprised to see it return to the surface of things. Luckily, he accounted for this, and already had a question in mind to ask his muse, a question that would benefit both of them as well as ensure he would be able to keep a close tab on her whereabouts. He was of course still curious to see her song play out to its finish.
"Very well, Ms. Mikaela. If you can do the same, I will answer any of your own questions." With that Salem blinked a few times. His vision was in bad shape compared to when he was using the crimson eye, and he knew he would be much slower to react, however he wasn't that slow. There was a reason he preferred physical fights without using his power, and this was it... Reversing the stance Mikaela took, Salem's own was more aggressive over defensive. He was the hunter, she was the prey. Salem sidestepped to the left as Mikaela hit at his right shoulder. A slow attack, he noted. Preparing his own attack, he threw a powerful open palm left punch, aimed at Mikaela's own right shoulder.
If it connected, it certainly would sting, however shouldn't do any real damage, Salem hoped. He was being a bit more careful than he would as to not make her bleed again. To him, if she could get caught by a stray animation, she certainly could get caught by him. He had no clue how durable she was, nor did he know if his restrained attacks were powerful enough to make any difference.
Mikaela frowned. By offering up a contingency of his own, Salem had turned her offer into a gamble, which meant influencing the results would be against her morals. She couldn't purposely win or lose. She may have been unpredictable in the most unorthodox of ways, but even she had some steadfast rules. Unfortunately, that meant she was being forced to put up an act for Salem. Then again, bluffing to scare people away was what most gamblers lived for.
"You sure?" she asked, a dangerous smile twisting her lips. "You offering me that is much more dangerous than me offering it to you." Her words were accompanied by smooth movements, weaving back and away from Salem's strike. There was no need to be distracted from the fight by her own words. She rarely paid attention to what she was saying anyway, the lie was more in the way things were conveyed. If your tone was enough to send chills down someone's spine you could scare them regardless of what you actually said. It was a game she adored playing, seeing who would call her out on her nonsense. Usually, the answer was no one. Most people were too distracted by the rest of her insanity.
Half a step closer put her back in a defensive position once more, this time closer. Dancing away from a strike at this distance would be a much harder task, the racing of her heart told her that much, but the same concept would apply to Salem. It wasn't like a single hit was more than she could take. She was quite certain she'd handled far worse than Salem could - or at the very least would - throw her way. Though they may actively be fighting, they seemed to be on more amicable terms than most of her relations. "To be perfectly honest," she began, accompanying the words with another attempted strike. This one would sting more if it landed. I'm pretty sure I could destroy you with one question if I really wanted."
"Of course I'm sure," Salem replied, beginning to smirk. "While I highly doubt the song I'm suggesting is going to end up being my downfall in the end, I'm all for more fast paced and daring tunes." As he said this, he watched with interest as she quite easily avoided his strike, amazed that someone could multitask in such a way he couldn't. It was either talking or a performance, if talking was the performance he was all for it, however doing both simultaneously often ended up with a confused and annoyed reaper. He even forgot the main reason he came to this place, now only focused on the task at hand.
As Mikaela prepped and launched another strike, he put his hands up in defense, only to feel a strong sting on the flat of his forearms. Despite the pain, Salem smiled as he put a hand back in his pocket. She could destroy him with a single question, was that so? It was pretty rare for Salem to hear words like those, and he was very intrigued as to what the question would be. Again squinting his eyes at his muse, he blinked a bit to clear up his vision, noting that he might have to apply himself a tiny bit in order to keep up with his opponent.
"Oh?" Salem began, as he quickly closed what little distance there was between them and attempted a kick aimed at the side of her arm, this one with more force than his last attack. Regardless of if it landed or not, Salem would back off to finish his sentence. "Try me," he replied in a rather mocking tone.
"I would hate for you to feel offended or anything similar, but at the same time I can't just watch as someone with so much bravado and confidence makes such grand claims." Even if it meant he would be in worlds of pain and soreness afterwards, he would get her to ask him that question. It would give him metric tons of things to write about...
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.
