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!
Silvery purple sunglasses surveyed the hallways of the TRS headquarters. The banshees optics aided by the use of a specialized work charm to limit the harmfulness of light against his eyes; though, his eyesight was mediocre despite its aid. Banshees were known for their night vision, not their vision in exposure to light. Fortunate to the young banshee, his delicate hearing managed to detect the bouncing noises. The strides of the white-haired banshee were far paced, clear haste in his steps. There was somebody he needed to find.
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The young white-haired banshee went by the name Nero Walton. A man who was renowned for being the Terror Response Syndicate's secondary medic of the infamous unit 3. It was evident by the TRS uniform wrapped around Nero's shoulders. The dark colours accented by the greens of the medical division. Upon his chest, Nero was adorned with the two, shining green stars that represented his rank as a high-standing individual of the medical division. His charge was unit 3, the young banshee assuring things ran smoothly for the injured members of their unit.
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Though, his retreat from the medical ward came with dire connotations. Unit 3 members were returning from a difficult mission, a majority injure. Among the wounded was a close friend of Nero's, a man named Chaerin Galaxias. Somebody told him Chaerin received an injury on the battlefield, though, the pink-haired man was not among the group. Therefore, the man was inevitably somewhere inside the headquarters. The matter was merely finding the long-haired male and escorting him to the safety of a medical room where he could promptly treat him.
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Every step would bring him closer, every quickly exchanged inquiry assisting in bringing him to Chaerin. Eventually, Nero found himself stationed outside the threshold of the room people stated they last saw the injured elite. Softly, the white-haired man rapped upon the frame of the door to bring all occupants inside to his attention.
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"Chae? Are you in here?" He inquired as he glanced around the room from the door.
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Quiet prayers filled Nero's mind as his eyes surveyed the room. While Chaerin held the label of a close friend, the white-haired man admittedly discovered something more in the pink-haired man. A companion, somebody who effortlessly chased away the lonesomeness lurking over his head. It began the gradual shift in Nero's opinions of Chaerin perhaps becoming something more. Though, for the time, the banshee kept his feelings tucked under his sleeve. After losing countless lives crucial to his own, Nero held a slight hesitance.
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Merely a wariness as he allowed for the building of emotions. The man with silvery purple eyes wanted the certainty of a long-term connection. The loving embrace of an individual who planned on sticking by him and making, in a way, a new home. It prompted him to step forward, find Chaerin to assure he was healed all in the name of considering the possibilities of a future. He wanted to know if the tender sparks between them would grow into full-blown flames after all was said and done.
[attr="class","chaerinposting"] A gentle pulse through his veins, indicating the adrenaline rush still coursing through his systems. A little more ragged and worse for wear than he had just been before the mission, though that self-same adrenaline kept him from truly feeling it just yet. He was still caught up in something of a haze that clouded the edges of his thoughts, a restlessness still secure in his limbs that made it difficult to stay still. Between swaying on his feet or pacing, it was certain that he’d eventually get on the nerves of the others. Chaerin’s energy was almost explosive in his need to wear it off, the adrenaline ramping up the even normal energetic nature of the nephilim. He needed to find something to do, to cause the frantic pacing to cease.
Despite Chaerin’s easy nature of attachment to his comrades, and the way he was always happy to see them - boundaries were being pushed. He was getting glances every so often, probably from someone miffed at his inability to sit still. Chaerin was unusually quiet aside from the pacing, saying little if anything at all. The tapping of his boots being the loudest, most repetitive thing in the room. His mind was a distracted mis-mash of nothing and everything, like someone watching a movie only to rewind it a few minutes back at random intervals. Scattered, was definitely a nice way to put it.
The haze still clouding his mind was to partially blame for his erratic thought train, or almost completely should take the blame. The nephilim was not yet brought down from the state the mission had left him in, a strange fierceness so unlike him that it had earned him his nickname. He was often compared to a snake hiding in the grass, a vicious attack unexpected. It earned him the moniker of Viper, because in the heat of battle there was no stopping his fatal strike should an opportunity to land it reveal itself. It was a side he wasn’t necessarily proud of, but one that had come inherently with survival. Still, he has yet to be judged for that state.
The nephilim’s pacing was also exacerbating his unnoticed injury, something that he would definitely hurt later if he wasn’t stopped. A clawing that tore through the fabric just above one hip, it would certainly hit him harder after the adrenaline started to taper off. His attentions shifted, successfully caught by the signaling of someone at the door. ”Nero? I’m in here!” The nephilim’s response is immediate, automatically going to greet his best friend.
It had successfully snapped him out of the haze clouding his thoughts, and the constant pacing in aimless patterns. ”Are you here to visit?” Chaerin’s smile is sunny, his voice brimming with happiness that hadn’t seemed present mere seconds earlier. The sight of the banshee often put Chaerin in the best mood possible, and it was something that anyone could pick out with ease. It often caused others to share glances where he couldn’t see, so there was no doubt others knew. Chaerin’s world was not the same ever since he grew close to Nero, thankfully in only the best way.
The idea of getting time spent with Nero chased away the nervous energy, returning him to his usual self almost completely. ”Did you hear our mission was successful?” His voice bubbles with a sense of accomplishment also, proud of himself and those he worked with. The clawing that had etched into his skin was still unnoticed, as was the bruising that was bubbling up higher on his ribcage. Thankfully, it was very likely to not go unnoticed.
Tag -- Nero Walton Notes -- chae is happy to see you asmr
A subtle sense of anxiety gripped the young banshee as he searched for Chaerin. Concerns about a wound worsening in condition hastily shuffled through his mind. A disorderly line of worries crashing through the glass and wreaking chaos. Among the people Nero became acquainted with in TRS, Chaerin was beyond important. Somebody, he fancied the companionship of existed in the pink-haired man. As a familiar, cheery voice rung from the room before his purple eyes could lock, Nero visibly eased. The strained muscles released their worries, yet, subtle hints reserved themselves in a reminder of Chae being wounded.
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Cautious steps were taken forward as Nero properly entered the room. A soft smile played across his lips, displaying the relief that washed over him. As the nephilim merrily spoke, the banshee's purple eyes were analyzing his condition. A majority of Chaerin's body appeared unharmed, however, raked above one of his hips were a series of claw marks. The fabric was torn and blooded from the injury. The terror or Assembly soldier had evident accomplished a decent chunk of damage, the location suggesting movement would become limited.
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As the question about the mission's success reached his ears, Nero nodded. Though, he soon flashed a soft smile as he recalled the previous inquiry.
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"Well, not quite to visit," he began before pointing at the wound on Chae's hip. "I was told about those, sooo I came to find you. But! We can visit while I'm cleaning and wrapping those up."
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The secondary medic turned away, hand gesturing for Chaerin to follow him. The wounds appeared to be nothing life-threatening, leaving Nero to take his time with bringing the nephilim to an examination room. As he turned out of the room, the hunter hopefully in tow, the white-haired man started the beginnings of conversation.
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"So the mission went well, I take it?" he began.
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There was something exhilarating about hearing people recount mission details, at least, when there were no casualties. It provided the opportunity to celebrate success over the achievements, which was needed in dire times.
[attr="class","chaerinposting"] Faint tinges of soreness existed where the damages lie, as of yet still unnoticed by the energetic nephilim. His happiness to see one of the best people to enter his life overrode almost everything else, making it even less likely for the nephilim to notice on his own. It was very easy to pick up the nephilim’s spirits, and send any negative mood packing. The mere presence of those Chaerin cherished above all else, was often all it took.
It made seeing a lackluster, or sad moment for the nephilim unlikely for most. So to see the sight of the medic cause a re-emergence of cheer was not uncommon, neither was the newfound bubbling of energy emerging. In a mere few moments, all was right with the world again. Any troubles with the world, if they even existed, had gone.
Chaerin’s smile brightened the closer Nero got, and if he were to be some sort of canine his tail would have surely been wagging enough to cause whiplash. Gone were all traces of that nervous energy, the stuff that caused him to pace the room and drag on the nerves of the other occupants. The break from the constant movement was likely a relief to many of them, along with the dispersal of the wired energy that had been previously filling the room.
While many may have spoken up to the nephilim themselves, today they had just seen fit to leave it alone. Perhaps they were tired from the mission, or simply had not wanted the nervous energy directed at themselves. Chaerin was notorious for being high energy normally, and it was bound to be worse when he was particularly wired. Not everyone could handle being around him in those instances, even less for extended amounts of time. Chaerin paused a but quizzically when Nero spoke, violet eyes glancing down where Nero had pointed. Oh...he hadn’t felt the touches of soreness through his adrenaline yet. ”Oh... Okay! I hadn’t even noticed...”Chaerin’s voice was still bright and happy, though maybe a little abashed by the realization.
Chaerin naturally falls into step behind Nero, obedient to the gesture without question. He hadn’t even really thought about it, the inclination to follow as natural and automatic as breathing. ”Yeah! I think we coordinated really well this time. Everything went much more smoothly than last time.” Chaerin for one, was just happy nobody got really hurt.
Together, the pair strode through the hallways of the TRS headquarters. Each step carried them closer to the infamous medical ward where all of his supplies laid waiting. As they stayed side by side, the infectious excitement of Chaerin stirred inside the young banshee. Each step featured a slight hop to his step as he pushed forward through the hallways, listened to the pink-haired man. A broad smile danced across Nero's lips as he journeyed through the hallway, his eyes occasionally glancing over at his companion.
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His time spent inside the TRS featured plenty of friendly faces, Chaerin being among them. However, there was a special quality to Chaerin nobody could accomplish or replace. The pink-haired hunter was ebullient, his positive energy pleasantly overwhelming for the banshee. Accompanying the young man always sparked pleasant emotions for the secondary medic, the type he revelled in and discovered excitement with. Thus, the smile stretching on Nero's lips refused to leave despite his dear friend possessing an injury to his hip.
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A soft shake of the head with a mental tsk towards the nephilim when he mentioned failing to notice the wound. He was disappointed Chaerin's adrenaline kept him from realizing the injury, however, the man could not be blamed. Adrenaline resulted in an inability to recognize pain, explaining why Chaerin rushed off in the excitement of his victory. He listened to the nephilim's compliments to the mission as he nodded to show acknowledgement.
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"I'm glad it went well! A good mission means more progress," he responded. "Do you remember what injured you though? That will help me with fixing you all up."
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Gaining knowledge of the wound's origins frequently assisted with the healing process. At times, this allowed him to know where to start and the likelihood of infections riddling the unfortunate injury. Though primarily, this assisted Nero in discovering the probability of the wound possessing a curse or not. The banshee maintained a relatively slow stride in an attempt to avoid outpacing the injured Chaerin. Undoubtedly, the man's hip wound would result in his pace being slower than the healthy, unwounded medical staff.
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At one point, they entered the medical ward. The secondary medic led the charge to one of the unoccupied rooms. The familiar wooden doors of the simple examination rooms were a welcoming sight. Their arrival meant he could begin tending to Chaerin's room, which brought Nero comfort. He grabbed the handle to open the door wide. Upon their entry, Nero gestured to the examination table to effectively say 'take a seat' without speaking proper words. As he waited for Chaerin to take his seat, Nero closed the door and walked over to the provided sink to fill a small bucket with lukewarm water.
[attr="class","chaerinposting"] The injury can’t be too bad, or at least that’s what the nephilim attempted to rationalize. Surely it would hurt a lot if it was, though he was still at least a touch cognizant of the fact it was his adrenaline cushioning the pain no matter how dull or violent it would otherwise be. The mission still had been one worthy of praise in the nephilim’s eyes, as there hadn’t been any damage that could be labeled as serious. Synergy and working together always made Chae blossom, brimming with pride in a place he belonged and flourished. He hums happily under his breath at Nero’s words, feeling accomplishment. They really were all a great team, and he was never happier to belong somewhere. ”Oh! I got pounced by a terror. It managed to catch me when I was fending off someone else.”
A mini ambush was likely the better term here, but it was likely to still get the point across. Chaerin had still managed to get put okay, though he had also been too enthralled in his reactionary battle viciousness to assess the damage then. The nephilim likely wouldn’t have noticed he had sustained any sort of injury until later, where it surely would have hit his senses like a brick wall. Even now that the adrenaline was finally filtering through, his movements were a little stiffer than when he was not injured at all.
Thankfully, Nero was a lot more attentive. It was preventing Chaerin from learning he had an injury the hard way, which would have likely been much more upsetting. Following the medic easily however, Chaerin’s spirits remained undampened. Nero’s presence alone prevented a drop in mood, even if the circumstances weren’t of the usual. It might not be the first time Chaerin had gotten injured, but it wasn’t enough to be called a bad situation. The nephilim was obedient in his following and subsequently taking a seat, bright eyes falling on his friend. He was really lucky, at least in his own opinion.
”You don’t think it’s too bad? I know you haven’t looked at it properly but…” The nephilim looked thoughtful for a second, before his cheery smile brimmed again. ”I’m sure you’ll be able to take care of it either way.” It wasn’t that he disliked getting medical treatment, it was more so he enjoyed the casual companionship those coffee break moments brought. This was a less desirable circumstance, though he’d still cherish the time spent together. Nero was a guiding light, someone that made him feel warm and happy. Safe and content, as if wrapped in a comfort blanket. ”I’ll have to bring you a coffee again after this. A treat!”
Bound by the will of his occupation, Nero assured the health and well-being of everybody within the TRS. Alas, Chaerin Galaxis was considered among the special cases. As a close friend of the secondary medic, the pink-haired hunter was beyond crucial for the mending process. Therefore, the white-haired man was adamant about assisting his dearest friend. Thus, he escorted him through the halls, eyes wandering once they entered the medical ward.
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A proper room was required for the process to begin, one untaken by the other patients who freshly arrived from their battle. Thus, Nero was prepared to stitch up Chaerin and return him to peak performance. The explanation was greeted with a gentle, albeit, worried smile from the secondary medic. Always, he was pleased to listen to the exploits of hunters, of their missions going excellently to degrees that injuries were a minor issue. However, as a member of the Medical Division, Nero was required to hold concern to his chest.
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“Well, we should get you cleaned up then,” he responded. “We can’t have it getting infected.”
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Eventually, Nero’s eyes locked on a room with a cracked open door. Slowly, the white-haired man wandered over, softly pushing the door until it opened. From the threshold, it revealed a room void of others, assuring an opening for him. Confidence entered the banshee as he stepped in, a smile on his face and Chaerin’s reassuring words filling his ears.
“I don’t think it’s the worst… At least I hope. The sooner I get you patched up, the sooner you can return to the field,” he explained cheerfully. “Anyways, we will have to move the fabric so I can get a good look at it and so I can clean it up.”
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Upon their entry, Nero closed the door behind them. While he waited for Chaerin to get comfortable, he gathered a small pail and cloth. Inside each room was a small, sanitary sink where he poured warm water into the basin. He wanted to start with examining and cleansing the wound, assuring all dirt and grime was removed from the wound. Pail in hand, Nero turned back towards Chaerin, placing the pail onto the side table. The mention of coffee brought surprise to the white-haired man’s eyes. [break][break]
“What? There’s no need to do that, Chae,” appreciation coloured Nero’s voice. “It’s a part of my job after all.”
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The cloth was placed over the side of the pail, the initial inspection being required before the cleaning process began. He required assurance over the wound's condition and on how terrible the injury was. Once everything was tidied, Nero could administer the proper care and check if the wound would require any advanced procedures.
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The skin is created by Wolf of Adoxography and Gangnam Style. The thread and conversation remodels are by Kagney. The Strange Reality board list, Heal My Soul info center, I Remember Now mini profile and Electric Requiem profile remodel is made by Pharoah Leap. The Who's That Member member list remodel was made by Tictactoe. The Cbox.ws Shoutbox remodel was made by Trinity Blair. All templates used for claims, information sheets, applications, etc are credited to their owners; credits for these can be found in the threads the templates are use on. Images that are used on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners, however, they have been edited by Zac with a few being edited by Chibi Magician. The plot, rules and various other information pieces for The Duality of Man are written by Chibi Magician with the assistence of her co-admins, Finnegan and Dremulf, alongside other unlisted people who were kind enough to give their input. The TRS, AP and face claim were all created by Fleur for specifically the use of TDOM. All plugins used on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners. The templates my members use are credited to their maker, if you find a template that belongs to you, but is uncredited, please speak to Chibi Magician or the member themself. Characters created on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners and should not be used elsewhere without the creator's permission.
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.
