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!
[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] i escaped the traitors once...
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[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] but they hunt for me.
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searching to finish what they started.
[attr=class,bulk] Alcohol was the loosener of lips and creator of impaired thinking. Similar to a potion, it smoothly eased the tensions of many and provided opportunities for smoothly spoken conversations. As day unwinded into the night, people inevitably fled to the bars to partake in the sipping of drinks until buzz or intoxication. A blissful social scene where people regularly conversed which included the unlikely individuals. The circumstance warranted the slipping of secrets through impaired lips as they took another sip of the toxic beverage.
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Friday night bar trips transformed into a regular occurrence for Roy. The escapism from long work weeks was welcomed and additionally, the occasional slips allowed for the gathering of new information. The location was spotty for gaining information at times, however, useful in the starting of connections. Influenced by the concoction in their hand, many dropped their guards and allowed others closer. Thus, in the wondrous warmth of a summer's eve, the boogeyman pushed through the glass double doors of the Golden Crown.
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The manner the green-haired man entered the bar suggested familiarity. Every stepped was confidently measured as he weaved around small groups of chatting individuals. As a frequent patron of the Golden Crown, nobody batted a concerned eye at the green-haired man. Rather, his bright charming smile occasionally gained the return of one from wondering eyes. Through hard work, the Assembly informant forged an identity consistent with friendliness and sociability. The requirement of gathering information hinged on making himself an approachable individual.
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When comfortable, people became willing to divulge details they kept hidden beneath their sleeves. The mental mind games were a necessity to gather the thing he was hired to find. Trickery was a concept Roy was raised in. Taken in by bandits before he could speak many years ago, the green-haired man familiarized himself with fake images and a charming exterior. Everything was strategically added beneath his belt of tricks to facilitate trust and conversation without hindrance from awkwardness or social inability.
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Nonetheless, Roy was equally as capable in sneaking around and observing happenings to gather the intel he required. Stealth was a magnificent tool, however, useless without directions to where the information could be discovered. A confirmed destination could yield the reason to access his stealthier capabilities, making the bar visit worthwhile. If he discovered a name-dropped location, he would survey the situation and ponder if it was worth being brought forward. Before him was the thick bar counter with two bartenders working behind it.
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Their eyes appeared attentive and awake, however, mingling signs of an itch to leave played in their countenances. Grins that failed to infiltrate their eyes alongside a seeming longing to escape. The tall man approached the counter with a broad grin, evidently ignoring their expressions. Few wished to work Friday evenings, making their expressions understandable.
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"Can I get a vodka lemonade, please? Thanks," the green-haired man requested.
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A drink brimming with summer spirit was among the specials of the evening. The simple order was merely the informant's method of moving with the flow. He waited a few moments before hearing the clinking of ice against a cup. Smoothly, his hand grasped the chilled exterior of the glass. Condensation rolled down his fingers and given summer's hot days, the sensation was welcomed. The green-haired man strode through the fray with his drink, his violet eyes analyzing the area around him. Inside his head gears churned, wondering who he should chat up for the evening.
[attr="class","inner-finally"] When you're already at the bottom, there's only one way to go. And that's up. The spotlight is off. Nobody takes notice of you. You fly under the radar. And he'd be lying if he told you that's not what he liked. In fact, it was exactly where he wanted to be. On the exterior, an upstanding, law-abiding citizen that runs an independent errand running joint, nothing the authorities can pick him up for, and on the interior, nothing less than a contract criminal. Someone who does what it takes to survive. Be that on the right or wrong sides of the law.
Of course, being on the up did have it's perks. Such as paydays and days off. He liked when there were no jobs. He liked that even though many knew exactly what he did for a living, his hands were clean. And there was nothing nobody could do about it. It also meant drinking! It loosened the tongue of many, and a drunken idiot was more than willing to shove their problems on a good listener. It was how Ky had managed to get many of his contracts. It also helped that he could hold his liquor. So his tongue didn't loosen easily in kind. Though, being a demon gave him plenty of time to get used to it, and gave him plenty of time to become seasoned to it.
Having entered the joint earlier, he found no one rich enough to talk into giving him a task. He was sat in a back corner, in stereotypical shady character fashion, but he looked casual enough. Probably like someone you could share a drink or two with if you did approach him. His outfit of choice was a simple dark blue shirt under a furlined hooded leather jacjet, black jeans and black heeled boots. He sat with his heels up on the table and his ankles crossed. Gold eyes watching as the newcomer entered with familiarity and then stalked between tables. Ky had himself on edge. Only certain types of people carried themselves that way. A joint regular or not. After all, he acted much the same.
He hand a drink in his hand which he sipped as the stranger drew closer to where he was seated.
[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] i escaped the traitors once...
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[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] but they hunt for me.
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searching to finish what they started.
[attr=class,bulk] The violet eyes of the informant calculatedly wandered past the faces of his fellow bar patrons. An observant glint served them as he scrutinized the people around him. Millions of thoughts ran through the boogeyman related to the gathering of information or enjoyment of an evening. Through the dozens of faces, a single individual stood out similar to a beacon. Stationed in the corner was a man who sat by his lonesome. A figure seeming dark, brooding and available for a drinking buddy to start chatting them up.
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Confidently, Roy strode forward with a straightened posture and a lip-tight grin stretching across his face. A lonelier figure suggested the potential of somebody searching for a confidant. The opportunity to transform into a listening ear allowed for the chance to gather valuable intel. The Assembly informant worked around the clock, for the call of information arrived at periodic instances. Thus, despite the time being considered off hours, Roy possessed no qualms in attempting to use his charms to his advantage.
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The boogeyman placed his glass onto the table and flashed the dark-haired occupant with a friendly smirk. His violet eyes ran over the man's frame, noting the stunning golden eyes that contrasted the dark locks of hair from the man's head. Accompanying the stranger's appearance was the vibe almost similar to a stereotypical bad boy with their boots kicked up, leather jacket and black jeans.
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"Hey, you look like you could use a little company," the boogeyman opened, sliding into the booth without hesitation. "So, whatcha drinking?"
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Operating under an assumed belief, Roy zeroed in on the opportunity to kick off a conversation with a mutually enjoyed pastime, drinking. He wished to open the gates before considering prying in on anything beyond the realms of simplistic and surface-level. The occupation of an informant involved building a realm of comfort to exchange information between one another without the hindrance of constant anxiety and paranoia. Once fully slid into the booth, Roy leaned his back against the booth's rest. His easement with the circumstance was evident as he handled placing himself into another person's sights.
[attr="class","inner-finally"] There was something about the way the game was played that let him pick it up in others. The way they scrutinised people, carefully selecting a target and approaching them. The confidence. In the way they approached, friendly enough, and confident that they were going to get what they wanted. He didn't know why this other man was doing such, or the job he did that required it, nor did he really care to know. He just continued to watch from his corner.
He lifted a brow when the other zeroed in on him, and begun to approach. The stranger had found his target. Ky tilted his head slightly. There wasn't much for it except wait. And watch. And see what comes about. He may not be bored, drinking alone in a corner. And that would be worth having the stranger join him. Even though the stranger had a purpose and reason for doing so. But it gave Ky his own reason for letting the stranger do so. A little fun never hurt anyone.... except maybe that one guy that one time. Oops. He shoved that thought from his head.
And he watched as the other approached with the aforementioned confidence. Slid into the seat, and start a conversation with him. "Of course, company is always welcome. Not that you left me room to decline." Ky shot him a lighthearted grin. "As for my drink, nothing special, just a lemon, lime and bitters. It's a lowkey kind of day. And yourself?" Ky shrugged, bringing his feet down off the table. He sat up straighter, and took to leaning on the table instead. Normally what a person drank would give you all kinds of details about the drinker, but that wasn't always the case, and he didn't hold out for anything spectacularly revealing.
[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] i escaped the traitors once...
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[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] but they hunt for me.
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searching to finish what they started.
[attr=class,bulk] Cold tingled around Roy's fingers as his violet remained locked on the stranger. The chilling reminder of his drink prompted the informant's fingers to subtly twitch across the smooth surface. Droplets of water clung to his fingers, running over them as he resisted a quick swig in favour of attentiveness. The confident smile remained across his face, powerful and prepared to weather any conversation brought upon him. The Assembly informant spent plenty of days around the depraved and cruel due to his occupational requirements.
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The Assembly of Phantoms was brimming with criminals, each appearing more maddened than the previous. From the cruelness of those who used the opportunity to carry out sick obsessions to others who remained cold, calculated and careless, Roy believed he witnessed it all. After bygone days as a bandit and the recent ones as an informant, he was not unfamiliar with the criminal world. As the stranger spoke, a chuckle rose from Roy's throat. The noise was light-hearted and a response to the teasing jab accomplished by the drinking buddy he discovered.
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"Yeah, I guess I did invite myself to the table," the green-haired man responded. "As for my drink, I decided to try the specials of the day. Lemonade and hard liquor, it seemed like a good mixture for summer."
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Punctuating the sentence about his drink, Roy ferried the alcoholic beverage to his lips. The informant took a tamed sip. While his alcohol tolerance would allow for a heftier intake, the informant preferred pacing himself. There was work he wanted to carry out, therefore, he desired to slip into merely a light buzz.
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"Are you from around here? I don't think I've met you yet, but Lorsette is pretty big so I wouldn't doubt missing someone," he asked.
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The inquiry was a simple one, designed to allow Roy to enter the door without asking extreme amounts from his company. The stranger's placement in the world allowed for the assessment of usage in what could be received. The summer months were littered with tourists and after years of operating in the Assembly, Roy was plenty aware of the circumstance.
[attr="class","inner-finally"] He couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the question. It was not one he got asked often. Probably because people usually came to him at his office. Very rarely did they find him out of business hours. Then again, outside of business hours he very rarely spent his downtime in public. "I'm from around here. Just appears fate has never had us cross paths."
He took a sip of his drink and glanced around the bar. The afternoon was setting in and people came and went. It was funny how many people passed through the doors and how many didn't. He often wondered how fate worked, but never dwelled on it for too long. He had his cards dealt to him, so he had to do what he could with them. He turned to his newfound companion. "And what of yourself?"
He had never seen the other man around either. Though he didn't make it a habit to go looking for people or stalking them. Nor did he take notice of people's appearances unless they were his contractors. Though sometimes he got a contractor that was anonymous and he had a hard time being in contact with them.
[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] i escaped the traitors once...
[attr=class,lyric2]
[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] but they hunt for me.
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[attr=class,charname accenttext]
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searching to finish what they started.
[attr=class,bulk] The art of conversation was a wondrous concept for an informant, however, the green-haired man wished to kick everything off slowly. A chance always remained that the chosen target had nothing to offer him, thus, he would at least enjoy himself with a riveting, enjoyable partner. A stranger could provide a conversation that could go into many possible directions. The green-haired boogeyman could become bored to death and gain absolutely nothing. Zero intrigue or information while engaging with a drab, average man was a looming threat.
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The chuckle escaping the stranger's lips suggested a light-hearted personality. A positive sign for the green-haired man, prompting a gentle grin to play across his lips. A quiet laugh escaped his lips, subtle and bubbled from his conversation partner's light-hearted nature. The green-haired man leaned back in his chair, listening to the short answer provided by the dark-haired man. The boogeyman was not surprised by the stranger's answer. Lorsette was a sprawling city with many locations and hidden nooks inside, missing a single person was easy.
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Naturally, the returned inquiry arrived and the former bandit shook his head. He originated from overseas, and the green-haired man was willing to share the fact; it was easier than feigning the position of a long-term local.
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"I come from somewhere overseas, but I've been here long enough to pretty much be from around here," the green-haired man answered with a chuckle. "I have learned the area pretty well, but I don't think I can out-do a local. Or at least one that's been here a while."
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Through the requirements of information gathering, Roy knew his way around Lorsette alongside a few key players for the TRS. Alas, locals frequently knew the close-to-the-chest secrets of the city as opposed to his outsider glance in. While Lorsette was a long-term escape from the traitors who hunted him, the Assembly informant was always learning a few new things here and there.
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"What's your name anyways, Mr. Local?" He asked, chuckling at the foolish and perhaps alcohol-fueled 'joke'. "Mine's Roy if you want it."
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The surname was kept hidden in his sleeve for his personal safety. The former bandit always worried about people hunting him down and causing him fatal troubles. The unspoken surname would not bring warning bells, fortunately, allowing for the green-haired man to skate by on merely providing his first. He leaned back, fingers rubbing against the cold, condensation-covered glass. The water clung to his fingers, rolling over and tickling his flesh.
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credits
The skin is created by Wolf of Adoxography and Gangnam Style. The thread and conversation remodels are by Kagney. The Strange Reality board list, Heal My Soul info center, I Remember Now mini profile and Electric Requiem profile remodel is made by Pharoah Leap. The Who's That Member member list remodel was made by Tictactoe. The Cbox.ws Shoutbox remodel was made by Trinity Blair. All templates used for claims, information sheets, applications, etc are credited to their owners; credits for these can be found in the threads the templates are use on. Images that are used on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners, however, they have been edited by Zac with a few being edited by Chibi Magician. The plot, rules and various other information pieces for The Duality of Man are written by Chibi Magician with the assistence of her co-admins, Finnegan and Dremulf, alongside other unlisted people who were kind enough to give their input. The TRS, AP and face claim were all created by Fleur for specifically the use of TDOM. All plugins used on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners. The templates my members use are credited to their maker, if you find a template that belongs to you, but is uncredited, please speak to Chibi Magician or the member themself. Characters created on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners and should not be used elsewhere without the creator's permission.
Special thanks for the members of TDOM who make suggestions to help make this site better. Even though we can not accept all suggestions, we immensely appreciate it. Thus, we give credit to any additions that you thought of and were later implimented by the staff, because we are glad you give us these excellent ideas.
