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!
YOUR LIFE WAS RULED BY DARKNESS, AND NOW YOU FIGHT IT
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The criminal underbelly of Lorsette existed prominently in the darkest regions of the city. Destinations considered low-trafficked by law-abiding citizens held the most secrets. After months of carefully tailoring an identity for himself, Jackson had managed to become privy to a portion of those hidden facts. Playing the role of a petty thief, the black-haired man had assumed the identity of Jack Florence. A newcomer to Lorsette a meagre year prior with unruly locks of light brown hair, thick, round-lensed glasses and sharp, hawkish features.
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Considered a petty crooked pickpocket with a streak of committing burglaries and a tendency to follow the words of others, he became among the likeable for "manipulation value". The smooth transition into becoming a common thug warranted access to minor pools of criminals with the occasional major one gracing his presence. Taught in the realm of deceit and deception, nobody was aware of Jack's genuine intentions. Instead, he was considered a grumpy, low-emotion burglar accomplishing whatever required to survive through dishonest means.
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As far as those he deceived knew, Jack struggled managing an honest job, frequently being fired and forced back into the familiar set of foreboding circumstance. A laundry list of criminal history marked his records, including frequent jail time, and nowadays he worked harder on escaping the suffocating grasp of law enforcement. Ultimately, he was considered a criminal who learned from his foolish errors and became smarter about all the wrong things. The crafted disguise brought reaped benefits to Jackson's feet at every turn.
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However, the recent rumors circulating around identified crooks involved a woman with darkened locks of hair and brilliant red eyes. Millions of tales were woven about the mysterious temptress varying from murder, to torture and just about every crime in the book. The validity of every claim was where the stories would be tested. Sources capable of verifying those concepts were limited and a majority lacked a reputable background. Thus, festering curiosity alongside his occupational expectations drove Jackson to a casino located on the outskirts.
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Based on the intelligence he received, a woman of similar description to the brief flashes of photographs worked in the location. The amount of rumors being churned inevitably brought reason for Jack Florence to investigation the situation. He told everyone it was meagre curiosity over examining a seeming legend and additionally checking if she was considered a threat. Yet, his intentions were to confirm the information flooding through the criminal channels. In the summer evening, Jackson had approached the casino, a cigarette perched between his lips during the walk.
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The blue eyes of his disguised form gazed over the flashing sign and revolving patrons. It was a casino known for housing those of questionable integrity and morality. Anything from thieves to hitman could be housed within the hypnotizing walls and dazzling colours of the casino. A final exhale of smoke wisped up from his lips, trailing off into the darkness of night. The lit end was disposed of in a smoking cannister outside before Jack pushed through the pair of glass doors. Inside were the regular tactics of tacky, hypnotizing carpet and bright lights to bedazzled and "trap" customers inside.
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Around the floor were plenty of people, each placing their bets and praying to Lady Luck. The unfamilirity of his surroundings prompted Jackson into slow steps as his eyes analyzed the people within. Plenty of individuals he recognized or heard about attended the casino alongside a few unknown faces mixed in. The portion of Lorsette the casino was located in naturally catered to those of low-income or of criminal affiliation. His eyes swept the area, scanning for the dark-haired woman known for causing plenty of havoc.
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Eventually, Jack's eyes caught the dead ringer for the pictures he had viewed. A woman similar in facial features, hair colour, hair style and eyes. Briefly, the undercover agent watched as another customer finished their game before slowly wandering over to her.
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"Excuse me, but I was wondering if we could talk in private, if you have some time of course," Jack inquired to the woman.
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Despite desiring to remain on her good side, Jackson knew better than to sink into predictable tactics. His occupation was consistently upkeeping an assumed identity, thus, he maintained the direct nature of his character. He zeroed in and arrived to speak to her about whatever he heard in private. Unfortunately, his familiarity with the woman was limited, suggesting the possibility of one-on-one conversations going awry. Duty prompted him forward despite the dangers and the more criminals he managed to identify, the closer he would potentially get to unveiling the truth.
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext1]I'm not ready for the truth to see the light
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext2]Make it up, Make it pretty, I don't mind
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After a long night of dealing cards in a private room and putting up with drunk idiots, the bright flashes of lights and general cacophony of the casino’s main room were grating on Mikaela’s heightened neko senses. Her shift was almost over, but as the minutes ticked by she found herself wishing she could just leave now that the main part of her job was over. She worked here to deal cards, not to answer questions and direct intoxicated gamblers to the bathroom. But she still kept her face as neutral as possible and smiled whenever anyone tore themselves away from their games long enough to approach her.
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As the time wore on, her chest began to ache, a sign that her painkillers had begun to wear off. She’d gotten into a brawl a few nights before and she’d taken a heavy blow to the ribs that she hadn’t gotten looked at. She didn’t really feel the need to get every wound checked out when she had meds strong enough to take care of any pain.
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She was about to slip out to the break room when she was approached by a tall, dark haired man. He smelled of smoke and she did her best not to wrinkle her nose, but she didn’t detect any alcohol on his breath. There weren’t many sober people in the casino and most of them were workers. And his request to speak to her in specific set her on edge. [break][break] “That depends,” she drawled, deciding it would be best to test the water before either letting a stranger talk to her in private or turn him away altogether. It would be best to subtly scare him off and if he stuck around it might actually be important. Her Italian accent was thick with implications as she continued on. “Whats on your mind, Angel Eyes? Whatever… company you’re looking for shouldn’t be too hard to find.” she motioned vaguely in the direction of a few girls dressed in barely any clothes who sold their souls and bodies to make their living. If she had her way they’d be kicked out whether they were on duty flirting with any guy that looked their way or innocent gamblers, but the fact was that they drew more business. “Unfortunately,” she continued, casually placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning in a bit closer, more to see how he’d react than the continue the act, “I’m working and I’m not off for another ten minutes so I can’t really entertain you right now.” The lingering smell of cigarettes made her eyes sting a bit, but she forced a wry smile anyway.
YOUR LIFE WAS RULED BY DARKNESS, AND NOW YOU FIGHT IT
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Around them swirled the fanfare of casino drawings and dealings. An obnoxious cacophony of grinding gears from slot machines, clinking chips and various moving parts. There was a haziness to everything, yet, through the annoying sounds of a gambler's den, Jackson's disguised eyes remained fixated on her. The number of ongoings his identity heard about surmounted to plenty. From wild tales painted in horrific grandeur to the more simplistic and straightforward; there was no shortage of stories surrounding the familiar face in the casino that evening.
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In several stories, a young woman dubbed Sarah Murray committed a variety of atrocities according to Jackson's sources. A vast majority consisting of those lacking a favourable reputation for information. Nonetheless, the disguised officer held expectations close to his chest in regards to uncovering the truth of those crimes. His duties were collecting proof, using wires and his investigative skills to analyze and find information to bring the truth to light. Accomplishing a discussion with the young woman would allow Jackson to assess the circumstances.
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The criminal underground was a location brimming with endless rumours and meagre hearsay. Confirmation was elusive at times, hiding in the deepest crevices and darkest reaches. Thus, Jackson Hoar was required to accomplish these actions to assure validity and clear up the divide between reality and fantasy. His attentiveness fixated on Sarah as words drawled out from her lips. A subtle hint about his intentions was provided, the woman motioning towards girls in skimpy garbs doing whatever they needed to earn money.
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They were the types searching for those seeking a single night of pleasure in hopes of trading sex for funds. The disguised countenance of the bespectacled man lingered on them for a few moments before returning to the dark-haired woman. He listened as she proceeded, tagging on how she, unfortunately, had minutes more of work. His intentions surfaced in his head and the undercover agent knew he would be required to face the circumstance head-on. The presentation of evidence would be the only manner to explain what he desired, however, he wanted to keep it limited in the sector 'obvious information gathering'.
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"I'm not looking for that," he began, adding a subtle growl to maintain character. "I'll just wait. If you have a preferred area to meet me, I can wait there and then we can talk."
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Sternness was added to his voice. An attempt to distance himself from the reality of himself and the persona created to gather information. While the appearance aspects were easily maintained, varying vocal queues and personality traits were entirely his responsibility. The forging of his identity hinged on those aspects to avoid circumstances of question should he be viewed with law enforcement. In short, the charade was manifested for Jackson's safety rather than efficiency. Fortunately, pockets of truth of the forged identity allowed for Jackson to avoid certain concepts.
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Fortunately, the undercover agent could skid by waiting for the young girl. Based on the information he received, everything would remain relatively quiet on the other fronts. Nobody appeared to be orchestrating anything big quite yet, however, the pick-up would be inevitable. The rise in Assembly activity would grant the perfect cover for criminals to accomplish their misdeeds, and Jackson hoped to gain the information required to imprison them.
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext1]I'm not ready for the truth to see the light
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext2]Make it up, Make it pretty, I don't mind
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Mikaela pouted at his harsh growl. She hadn’t expected him to actually be interested, but he could have played along instead of being so boring. Nonetheless, she carefully analysed his words, eyes studying him carefully. He clearly wanted something if he was willing to wait to catch her alone, even if it was just 10 minutes. That probably meant something illegal or murder-y. [break][break] Either way she could end up in a tight spot so setting a truly private location would be the same as walking into a trap, and she didn’t really want to continue this conversation with only the small pocket knife they allowed her to carry at work, so she shook her head with a wry smile. “No need for that.” she purred, wavering between continuing flirting to piss him off and get his intentions in the open faster or being more serious about this in case she was in trouble. Of course, she’d never really considered trouble as a real reason to be serious. “As long as you’re not some perv looking for trouble,” she eyed him in a weary way that suggested he still wasn’t entirely above suspicion, “I’d love an excuse to get off a little early.”
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Her gaze broke away from the stranger long enough to meet a coworker’s across the room. She tapped two fingers to her hip, a silent communication they used in the casino to seamlessly take care of gamblers without minimal disruption, to inform him she was taking a break. He didn’t look very happy about it, but she wanted at least one person to know where she was and he was too far away to actually stop her.
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“Come along,” she grinned, placing a hand on his upper arm. Then she began walking away, not bothering to look back to see if he was following. If he wasn’t it would be all the better anyway. She didn’t need more on her plate. No matter how bored she might be. She slipped through the casino, expertly weaving between gamblers and machines until she made it to the bar, where she moved behind the counter to a white door marked ‘employees only’. As she walked she debated what the best way to go about this would be. She wanted to be armed but it would be hard to slip a weapon onto her person without him noticing and she didn’t want to raise any suspicions. Nearby would have to be close enough.
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She reached for the door handle and glanced back behind her to motion for the man to follow before entering the familiar break room. It wasn’t too big, especially compared to the gaping hall of the casino, but it was big enough for four or five people with a couple tables, a coffee machine and water cooler, and several lockers lining one wall. “What’s up?” she asked, not bothering to look at him but being careful to listen for his steps as she made her way to her locker and popped it open, pulling out a bottle of pain killers.
YOUR LIFE WAS RULED BY DARKNESS, AND NOW YOU FIGHT IT
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A hardness was feigned in the depths of sparkling false blue hues. Seriousness was taken in the circumstance, the roughness added for distance. However, Jackson nonetheless desired to avoid any questionable antics where possible. In front of him was a wild card of a woman, somebody either the topic of fabricated fiction or a twisted reality hidden beneath a classically beautiful face. The thought kept the undercover agent tense and aware of the circumstances around him. The sickening rumours around the moniker Sarah Murray suggested a world of trouble should he take a misstep.
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The floor was crackling ice and a single ill-placed foot would inevitably land him into the chilling waters below. The pout on the young woman's face suggested a slight breaking of the ice. Irritation earned him disapproval, and it was duly noted by the man beneath the facade. The dilemma of requiring his facade while dancing around potential threats always proved a difficult balance. While Jack could afford to dial back his faked attitude and the more problematic traits of Jackson Florence, he knew to avoid stepping back too far.
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It appeared his promises of patience piqued the young woman's interest. Subtly, his brow moved in surprise at the dark-haired woman's abrupt change of heart. However, the flirtatious tone of her voice remained strong as she interacted with him. The words following her subtle tone only suggested further her wishes to maintain the attitude she originally presented. Rather than growl at the dark-haired woman a second time, Jack rolled his eyes and released an annoyed sigh from his lips. A toned-down display of irritation that Jackson hoped would maintain his forged identity while not overstepping into bad territories.
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Her gaze broke away, the young woman seeming to signal to another, who appeared displeased about whatever it meant. As an outsider to casino communications, Jackson merely maintained a sense of wariness. The signed message meant anything in the dark-haired man's eyes. From a simple 'watch my post' to an 'I have a suspicious man with me'. While he could escape the binds of being arrested on a "misdemeanour" given the reality of his position, it would be harder to escape a more criminal plan. He had an emergency pager he could click in circumstances of fear, but Jackson preferred not to resort to the buzzer.
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Her hand grazed his upper arm, his feigned blue hues gazing over her delicate fingers until they left. He gave her a nod in response, his steps shortly following her. The pair walked through the bedazzling machines and gambling patrons, Jackson possessing more stumbles through the maze in comparison to the adept young woman. Gradually, he followed behind her, narrowly managing to keep up with the mysterious Sarah Murray. An off-room was reached, the young woman pushing through a door designated as 'Employees Only'.
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Despite the room's sign, Jack followed her into the private room. Upon entering the room, Jackson's eyes automatically scanned their surroundings, his instincts screaming to assure his safety. Nothing appeared out of place within the smaller room. There was a table, a few chairs, a coffee maker and a cooler for drinks. The dark-haired man slowly stepped further into the room, his eyes glancing at the woman who was looking through her locker. Her question became the prompt for him to speak.
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"Am I right to assume this is a good place to discuss darker topics Miss Murray?" The undercover agent inquired. "I'm not here to land you into trouble, in case your coworkers are easily disturbed."
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The words were a tactical side-step around the overarching topic. Flat-out inquiring if the location was safe enough to discuss criminal affairs could potentially place them both into a trickier situation. The man's arms crossed over his chest as he remained standing a short distance from the door. Given the depraved tales, Jackson wanted to maintain the utmost sense of caution in his present circumstance. Among the list of offences committed by Sarah, murder was upon the list, meaning an outright accusation or overstep could lead to a frightful brawl if she felt cornered enough.
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A fight within a crowded casino risked reaching the headlines and would consequentially jeopardize his false identity. As a man obscured into the criminal underbelly, he wanted to attract as little attention to himself as possible, especially from innocent citizens. People wished to accomplish good, however, having them narc because of his illegal doings would inevitably lead to more hindrances than help.
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext1]I'm not ready for the truth to see the light
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext2]Make it up, Make it pretty, I don't mind
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‘Ms. Murray.’ If she wasn’t convinced of his intentions by the way he carried himself or the fact that he’d approached her of all people, that name confirmed he wanted to drag up a past better left buried. The safest route would be to get him to leave now, but there was no guarantee he come back with the same trouble somewhere where she was less suited to handle it than here. Plus, her curiosity was nagging at her. “Im sure you have more important things to be worrying about than my reputation.” she drawled, twisting open the cap of the pill bottle and popping a couple in her mouth. The soreness in her ribs was getting worse and she knew the medicine would take a while to kick in.
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She leaned back against the locker next to her, keeping both the entrance from the casino and the back exit in her sight. She may need to make a quick escape, even if things seemed relatively docile now. It would be best to get him to tell her whatever he wanted as soon as possible to minimise the chances of things escalating. If that required playing a part she’d given up long ago, so be it. “Or maybe you should be a bit more worried about my reputation.” she mused, a wicked smile spreading slowly across her face. “I’m sure it’s the only reason you’re here, so what sort of trouble are you looking for, Angel Eyes?” [break][break] “Oh, and are you armed?” she asked, watching him carefully. Crimson eyes scanned his exterior for signs of weapons but she knew perfectly well that spoke for nothing. Anyone worth their salt could and often did hide a few weapons on them. Of course asking him probably wouldn’t get her an honest answer, but she was curious just what sort of response she’d get. Was this guy a fool or somewhat competent, and did he want her to trust him for some reason?
YOUR LIFE WAS RULED BY DARKNESS, AND NOW YOU FIGHT IT
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Handling criminals transformed into normalcy for Jackson. Naturally, his body contained alertness with every sense tuning into the world around him. His half-lidded eyes gazed with traces of suspicion glazing into dark hues. Even prior to his entrance into the criminal underworld, Jackson learned to not allow follies to cloud his decisions. Mistakes inevitably happened, however, minimizing the ripples of effect became the crucial portion. The dark-haired man adjusted his angle, fulling facing Sarah.
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Reputation was never taken lightly by Jackson. The possibilities filtering through the undercover agent's mind were endless knowing the image manifested by others. If anything, reputations were considered a guideline by Jackson. Alas, cutting lies from the truth was the difficult portion of investigating these leads. There were people who owned up whatever claims other people made towards them, while occasionally despite the genuineness of the claims, will lie their way out. Though it appeared Sarah planned on owning the allegations behind her reputation.
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A flicker of curiosity came across his brows, surprise sparking from the easy admittance. Regularly, Jackson experienced the lowered brows and angered growls of an individual in crime... However, she maintained confidence, at least, it was how the disguised man viewed the circumstance. He watched as Sarah leaned against the locker, keeping a fair distance between them. The existence of the distance was a mild comfort, suggesting that should things turn violent, there would be a chance to react.
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"Saiting my curiosity," the demon answered. "I heard many things about you, endless even. From murder to petty theft, so I wondered if you were a reality."
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The explanation was simple, a delve into interesting rumours that swirled around him. Then arrived the question of being armed. Out of instinct, Jackson stiffened at the question, suspicion portraying over his features. Caution was naturally required, however, whenever people inquired about weaponry, it brought ill feelings.
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"I would rather not disclose that, but be assured, I have no plans on starting a fight," Jackson assured with a hardened voice. "A crowded casino would attract far too much attention."
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There was an annoyed edge to Jackson's voice to maintain the persona. As an individual reliant on his abilities, Jackson considered himself perpetually armed. Always, would his fire manipulation be available at his fingertips and his darkness manipulation to follow. The comfort of being able to defend oneself was pleasant, however, Jackson knew not to lay too heavily into the fabricated safety. Should things edge into a battle, he was unprepared to maintain a quiet standoff given his favouring of fire manipulation, thus he kept himself more alert after the question.
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext1]I'm not ready for the truth to see the light
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext2]Make it up, Make it pretty, I don't mind
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Mikaela raised an eyebrow but didn't respond. If she had to guess, she'd say he was some simple criminal more in it for the action and drama than any real ambition, but she knew better than to run with that theory. Regardless, she didn't think anything too significant would come from this, and she didn't want to draw attention by talking to the wrong people for too long. Murder, though. She had always had a policy of no killing, though it was never to avoid getting blood on her hands. In her opinion there were far worse things than death, and for a while she'd been an expert in those particular fields. [break][break] She clicked her tongue at his nonanswer. Whether he wanted to start a fight or not, if one came she would be damned if she was unprepared. "So either you're armed and don't want to admit it or you don't want me to realize just how unarmed you are." She put the pill bottle back in her locker before pulling out two knives, securing one to a sheath at her hip and the other to one hidden at her thigh beneath her skirt. "Evening the grounds. I'm sure you don't mind, if you're not looking to start anything," she drawled, a note of challenge in her voice. [break][break]
Then she studied him a bit closer, analyzing the situation. "You either have some serious problems, or the gall to lie to me. My reputation is made to keep people who know it from bothering me, so why are you different?" she mused, "Normally I would lie and send you running, but the way you're talking I suspect if I told you I knew how to skin a man strip by strip when I was 11, it wouldn't do the trick this time." [break][break]
She looked over him carefully once more. He had to be lying. No one would corner someone like her for mere curiosity. Whatever he wanted would come out soon enough, but she wanted it to be a bit faster. "Angel Eyes, I am a reality standing in front of you. I am inclined to let people say what they want about me, but if you came here to hurl accusations at me or to gawk you're wasting my time. I suggest you ask more specific questions or get down to what you really want from me pretty quick before I decide to just walk away."
YOUR LIFE WAS RULED BY DARKNESS, AND NOW YOU FIGHT IT
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A guarded nature twirled inside Jackson's eyes as he observed Sarah from a distance. Despite the concerns of abrupt violence, the disguised man maintained an eased body. Over tense muscles meant stiffness should the tides turn and action transformed into a requirement. Being a convoy to gather information on behalf of law enforcement manifested the necessity for being constantly prepared. While the cruelty in Murphy's Law always lingered hauntingly over Jackson's head, he needed to try slipping through whatever ill-circumstance arrived his way.
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Thus, as he vocalized his refusal to answer the question of being armed, his mind laid out potential escape routes. If meagre discussion boiled over into a brawl, Jackson knew the favoured option for his operation was retreat. Whether it consisted of sparking a fire to manifest a barrier between himself and the woman or pushing her away with darkness, the prime objective would be to defend himself and escape. The undercover agent's brows raised subtly as a pair of daggers were pulled from the locker and equipped.
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Her response to his lack of confirmation left her dancing in paranoia's court. Admittedly, Jackson could hardly blame the dark-haired woman's decision to assure her safety, however, it sparked his alert nature. Nonetheless, it confirmed the validity of the claims alleged against Sarah Murray. Her immediate action towards assuring her safety in face of a criminal rather than exhibiting confusion or outrage. The disguised man narrowed his eyes, manifesting an expression of annoyance, however, shortly pursed his lips.
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A forged face to exhibit a desire to retort but realizing it futile or foolish. The identity of Jack Florence settled himself on a discontented sigh rather than a verbal rebuttal. Evidently, he resigned himself to the young woman's necessity of assuring her safety before anything else. The woman's opening line infringing on the rumours of her criminal history failed to startle Jack, thus he remained unfaltering. Through years of operating within the criminal underworld, Jackson heard atrocities aplenty from seemingly mythical, but real red rooms to malicious tortures and brutal murders.
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"Not much surprises me anymore," Jack grumbled out, maintaining the act. "Been doing this for a long time, so I ain't some newborn from yesterday, ya know?"
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His eyes locked onto Sarah, hard and cautious as he turned to entirely face her. His body language, despite the action, remained closed off with arms crossed and expression guarded. The woman's words to calling out her curiosity only manifested transparency in her beliefs. Perhaps she thought of him as someone who arrived to bring her issue, rather than an intrigued informant of the criminal underworld. The darker tones of the world always expected for someone to possess a vendetta or mayhaps a request of another.
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Meagre information gathering lacked the weight behind it for further admittances and reassurances of the woman's crimes. Rather, his tactics required quick polishing and recalibrating to acquire optimal information.
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An annoyed groan escaped Jack's lips followed by a near-inaudible grumble. "For fuck's sake..."
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The bespectacled disguised rolled his eyes, seemingly exaggerating the circumstance. Shortly, they returned to Sarah, levelled, but still maintaining those pangs of caution.
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"Fine, I'll level with ya. I work with some people who might find your services useful. That's why I'm here, are ya happy now?" He grumbled. "But, I came of my own volition. The guys back at HQ are too cowardly to even consider being in the same room as you. Hmph! It's pathetic, a bunch of big so-called macho-men cannot even want to give it a whirl."
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The demon's lips pressed together as he shook his head in disappointment. The story was not mere fabrication for Jack's associates tended to maintain their distance from the relatively dangerous. While they spouted out endless nonsense about merrily murdering others, they exhibited notable cowardice when it arrived in approaching the "legends" of the underworld. Fortunately, it allowed the persona of Jack Florence to play the role of courage, leading to plenty of opportunities in gathering information on other malefactors.
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext1]I'm not ready for the truth to see the light
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext2]Make it up, Make it pretty, I don't mind
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Mikaela raised an eyebrow at his tough, guarded act. 'Not much surprises me anymore.' Was that a fact? She'd just have to see for herself. After all, if there was anything she was good at it was taking foolish bastards by surprise. A wicked smile spread across her face and she eyed him like a cat stalking a mouse. [break][break]
She shut the locker and leisurely began closing the distance between them. “And which services do you suppose I’d provide?” she purred. “I have no real interest in helping… how did you describe them? Pathetic cowards?” She stopped a couple feet away from him and looked up at him through thick lashes, inspecting his face. It would be so easy to figure out what would really make him tick and target all his weak points, but she wasn’t interested in more enemies. Perhaps she could make something of this, though. [break][break]
“But you’re different than them aren’t you?” Her tone was sweet, but her smile was lined with knives. “You’re bold enough to walk right up to me despite the obvious gaping holes in your intel.” Her expression hardened and she pulled shadows up around her, an action meant far more for intimidation than anything else. If she could scare this man away from getting himself killed she might feel slightly better about herself. “You're in the wrong business to be so foolish. You’re lucky I’m not the monster you’ve heard stories about. Keep this up and soon it won’t just be your neck on the line.” [break][break]
That was a lesson she’d learned from multiple perspective, and it haunted her movements. Plenty of people had gotten hurt dipping their toes into trouble, but when they got too deep into those waters that pain began extending to others around them. After all, everyone had a weak point outside of themselves and that weak point was usually the easiest, and the cheapest, to target.
YOUR LIFE WAS RULED BY DARKNESS, AND NOW YOU FIGHT IT
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Guardedness played inside his eyes, protective as he gazed upon Sarah’s every move. The demon had walked into a viper’s den, her so-called home turf surrounding him. A stray wandering in a place he hardly knew, playing games with a woman who possessed familiarity with the building’s layout. Nonetheless, Jack was prepared to handle the cards this twisted deal would be handing out to him. Whether it was the information he required or a dagger flying towards him. There was a hardened nature to his gaze with his eyelids narrowed with suspicion.
[break][break]
The click of the locker's closing reached Jackson's ears. Based on her actions alone, the demon was under the assumption Sarah gathered the entirety of her weapons. A purr entered the woman's tone, as though the young woman was going to discover amusement in the unfolding futures beyond his sight. The agent prepared himself for the worse circumstance, his body maintaining a calm as he sturdied himself against her fear tactics and potentially out lashes. A groan leaked through Jack's closed lips as the disguised man crossed his arms.
[break][break]
"I think you know what I'm insinuating," he grumbled. "Knew those cowards would drag me down though. Not an impressive bunch at all."
[break][break]
The closeness of the woman's face arrived suddenly, Jack's eyes narrowing at her. Her words were honeyed, sweet, but every sentence betraying the words themselves. The ruse remained, a man suspicious and ill-tempered at times. Though with a smile lined with malicious intention, but little was he aware of the theatrics to accompany her closeness. The darkness wrapped around her, shadows bending to her will similar to a puppet. A single recoil step arrived, Jackson’s brows lowering as he prepared himself for the worse. Alas, no barrage of solid darkness or malicious shadows arrived to drag him into the depths.
[break][break]
Fear tactics, an intimidation attempt masterfully prepared to flaunt capabilities. The woman wanted to make it obvious she could attack him, without outright accomplishing the action. If anything, she was living up to the viper title Jackson warranted her. A creature readied to strike at a moment’s notice, but stalling herself to make her prey scurry away. In short, it appeared Sarah desired to play with her food. The treatment summoned a bout of wariness to Jackson, however, the disguised agent moved no further than his recoil.
[break][break]
“More like I ain’t no coward,” he mumbled back. “It might get me in trouble, but I’m not about to run and hide from people.”
[break][break]
A determined expression played across him, Jackson crossing his arms for the sake of the guise. The narrowing of his eyes remained alongside his guarded expression. The agent was aware he was playing with live fire. Dangerous and burning bright, threatening to harm him at every turn.
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext1]I'm not ready for the truth to see the light
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext2]Make it up, Make it pretty, I don't mind
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Mikaela eyed her adversary as he took a step back against her sudden advance. She knew people that would have cringed to make such a move, either because it was too much or not enough. There was a distinct balance between not giving up ground and keeping enough space to defend yourself. She had no intention of hurting him, but he had no way of knowing that, and in close quarters she could easily draw one of the knives she had on her person and slit his throat without a second thought. Of course, Mikaela herself was tiny. Being so close would be more of a risk to herself than to him. [break][break] Regardless of his reaction, she maintained her own position. She gradually released the shadows around her, eyeing the man in front of her for any trace of a reaction. The criminal type usually developed pretty good poker faces, which was why she had learned to discern lies more from words themselves than tone or expression. Not that there were many times she believed anything to be the truth. Her world was filled with liars, and those who chose to be honest used it as a weapon rather than a kindness.
[break][break]
She twisted her face into a scowl. "I don’t care what trouble you get yourself into, idiot," she snarled, her Italian accent thickening with frustration. "If anyone matters it’s the innocent lives that selfish bastards like you unwittingly drag into the crossfire. When the people you care about, the people you will fight for, are on the line as collateral, that’s when you come to me. Despite what the rumours say, I don’t take other jobs. At least not from strangers."
[break][break]
Limiting herself to such work could easily be deemed naive or soft, but if the matter was questioned there were several logical reasons for that decision. Not that anyone stupid enough to question her would risk doing it a second time. Mikaela may have been on the straight and narrow, but she was not some declawed kitten. She couldn't afford to be. Nonetheless, if she was going to pretend to be anything other than a monster, it was best to stay in the opposite lane. Let any challengers think she'd gone soft, then if they decided it was worth their time to get in her way they wouldn't know what they were getting themselves into and she'd have an advantage.
YOUR LIFE WAS RULED BY DARKNESS, AND NOW YOU FIGHT IT
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Intimidation tactics, lies and deception actions coloured a grungy scene for those who peered into the world of crime. A portrait Jackson was endlessly learning the intricacies of as hidden details surfaced. Though his read on Sarah was limited to unpredictable which presented its own share of challenges for the undercover agent. For those who accomplished erratic behaviours were difficult to calculate the movements and plannings. Two potential paths played in these circumstances, a portion having the potential to be outplayed meanwhile the other would spin a tale leading into a dangerous realm of thugs.
[break][break]
The disguised man held himself steady, preparing for whatever circumstance that would abruptly show itself. The shadows retreated from the woman, being released from her manipulation. He maintained a stern expression, eyes subtly narrowed as he stared down his target of the investigation. However, Sarah's actions suggested a woman not prepared to be vanquished quietly without a single survival attempt. The woman's speech about others was a threat emptied by a frightening history. Everything he had left was Charlie, however, the feline was plenty capable.
[break][break]
A cat clever in hiding and unassociated from his identity, Charlie for all extensive purposes was safe. There was nothing to throw into the crossfire, and Jackson knew that. His eyes narrowed at her, turning stern.
[break][break]
"I don't have anyone like that," Jackson grumbled out. "The only collateral is the cowardly bastards."
[break][break]
There was nothing remaining for Jackson to preserve as of family, friends or lovers. His time served in the army failed to uncover any connections because of the mourning occurring in his heart. There was nothing, but the awkward-furred kitten who joined him. His lonesomeness consumed him, thus the unlikely-to-be-adopted kitten became his only connection. However, he was certain that Charlie could be given another loving and safer home if it was needed. His coworkers would be likely care for him, assuring him a future should his life become cut short.
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext1]I'm not ready for the truth to see the light
[attr=class,Mikredheadertext2]Make it up, Make it pretty, I don't mind
[newclass=.Mikredimage]width:500px;height:200px;background-image:url('https://i.ibb.co/hxzNqkk/download.png');border-left: solid 10px #8f0505;border-right: solid 10px #8f0505;[/newclass] [newclass=.Mikredhover]opacity:0;transition:all linear 1s;-webkit-transition:all linear 1s;height:200px;width:500px;margin-top:-200px;[/newclass][newclass=.Mikredhover:hover]opacity:0.4;transition:all linear 1s;-webkit-transition:all linear 1s;background-color:#fff;[/newclass] [newclass=.Mikredhovertext]font-family:Arial;color:#4c306a;font-size:18px;text-align:justify;[/newclass]
Mikaela's hand clenched into a fist at her side at the criminal's words, but she forced herself to maintain eye contact and keep any pity out of her expression. She hated fools like this. They had some hope at freedom, but they threw away their free pass. She wasn't sure at what point someone transitioned from toying with the illicit side of life to being chained down by it, but for her it didn't matter. She'd been born into this, and no matter what she told herself she'd never truly be able to escape. Men like this one would always seek her out, unless she moved somewhere completely foreign and started a new life but that would require abandoning the few people she actually cared about. [break][break] She took a deep breath and released it. She was still at work, so she couldn't start a fight to prove her point. Allowing any sort of bloodlust to build up would only get her in trouble. She could pick a fight with a stranger later but it would do no good now. She had learned long ago that when it came to idiots, arguing wasn't the way to drive home a point. "Call them that one more time, I can get it on tape and then tail you so I can show it to them." she smirked, then, against any sort of logic, turned her back on him to walk towards the coffee maker. It was a petty thing to say, but she needed a moment to collect her thoughts and decide on her next action. He knew where she worked so it wasn't like she could just walk away. [break][break] She forced the mundane actions of making sure there was coffee and opening the cupboards to cool her down and carried that deadly calm into her tone. "Unfortunately," she drawled as she pulled out two mugs and began pouring coffee into one of them, "That means I have no reason to help you. You, however, might be able to help me with something if you'd like to make a deal." Even if she had very little intention of accepting such a deal, an open ended offer like that revealed a lot about someone's true motives. [break][break] She glanced up with a smile. "How do you take your coffee, Angel Eyes? I wouldn't tell anyone if it's with a shot of Baileys." It was late for caffeine, but her sleep schedule was entirely messed up anyway. Even as a kid it had never come close to resembling a routine.
YOUR LIFE WAS RULED BY DARKNESS, AND NOW YOU FIGHT IT
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A natural weariness always arrived with people of a criminal stature and an unpredictable personality. The undercover agent's eyes flitted consistently, sharpened with concern. The woman's retreat from him failed to instill ease into Jackson, the man maintaining his meticulous observations for his safety. His decisions summoned him into a wolf's den where glinting teeth were fictionally surrounding him. There were persistent dangers, however, Jackson was prepared to preserve his well-being and defend himself.
[break][break]
Fortunately, the woman appeared disinterested in starting a brawl inside the break room. Nonetheless, Jack kept himself prepared for anything to unfold within the break room. The dark-haired woman already received the frightening label of unpredictable. The woman's threat summoned a feigned eye roll from Jack as an inaudible grumble rose from his throat and his gaze going to the wayside. Maintaining his criticism of his "fellow criminals" would be a foolish mistake that would launch Jack into a despicable deep end of nasty fights and dislike.
[break][break]
He watched her approach the coffee maker, eyes cautiously watching as she began going about the regular actions. A pair of cups suggested an offer, meaning, he would receive one of the cups. Based on the setting, Jackson could assume nothing would be mixed into the beverage, but for his easement, he observed. Everybody in the agency knew his present actions for safety purposes. Thus, if he never left this building, there would be an arrest and investigation before the evening's end. This being said, Jackson cautiously watched to rescue himself and avoid additional trouble meddling with his investigation.
[break][break]
The mention of a deal prompted a brow raise from Jackson. While he would never dive into criminal action, the man would take the opportunity to inquire about the so-called deal.
[break][break]
"Depends on what yer deal is... I ain't gonna just do anything," Jack answered, crossing his arms.
[break][break]
The coffee was poured and prepped in the mugs. The only necessities were the basic milk and sugar components people added to their drinks.
[break][break]
"Just a dash of milk and sugar, not enough to remove the bitterness," he answered the woman.
[break][break]
Neither opposed nor favourable of coffee, Jackson decided accepting the woman's offer would perhaps begin a subtle relationship between them. An improvement to their questionable acquaintanceship occurring between them. Any improvements were necessary for Jackson to gather the crucial information.
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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.
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