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","ayab-text"]Today Ziya had decided to walk home instead of taking the bus. It wasn't a super uncommon decision for her, especially on misty days like this one. When she was sitting on a bus or in a car looking out the window she was usually fine, but fog always felt like it was closing in around the bus and trapping her inside. None of her friends would be riding it on that particular day so it wasn't like she could distract herself by talking to them either. [break][break] She had texted her parents that she'd be walking, then promptly put in earbuds and began drowning out her thoughts with the noise. She didn't pay much attention to where she was going as she passed through the humid embrace of the mist. It was only a matter of minutes before her phone buzzed and she pulled it out to see a message from a friend. A grin stretched her face as she missed the turn she was supposed to take and began typing a response. [break][break] As she continued moving, she was ignorant to the growing chill in the air or the sudden absence of people around her. At lease she was until a noise cut through her music, accompanied by what looked like a human form near the edge of her vision. She paused her walking, but her attention remained fixed on her phone. "Uhm... Hold on for just one moment," she muttered, finishing what she was typing and hitting send before glancing up. The sight that greeted her didn't make much sense at first. [break][break] In front of her eyes a glob of angry looking smoke was shifting into a bloodied up version of a clown. She yelped and dropped her phone, stumbling a few steps back. She knew she could continue to retreat, but her heart was pounding in her chest and she couldn't get enough breath to actually do anything. "Leave m-me alone," she managed to stutter out.
EVERYWHERE ARE THE WOLVES. THEY WATCH YOU AS YOU ROUND CORNERS, FANGS DRIPPING WITH DROOL IN PREPARATION FOR THE HUNT. YOU BETTER BE PREPARED TO FIGHT OR THEY'LL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE.
[attr="class","rileytalk"]Fog suffocated the city in the later hours of the day. Occasionally these days happened, where clouds blocked out sunlight and allowed for the foggy air to cling to the city streets and walls. Arguably, the weather suited the arriving month of October, infamous for the haunting holiday of Halloween. Low visibility limited the opportunities to rush around, searching for trouble and handling the circumstance promptly. Nonetheless, Elite Hunter Riley Chaeffeur wandered the streets, requested to track down a malicious troublemaker causing issues in the outskirts.
Through the specially designed eyes of the mask, Riley's green hues gazed around, searching for movement. The unktehi kept his senses open, the rhythm of his footsteps against the concrete sidewalks echoing into the depths of his ears. These atmospheres summoned alertness in Riley, his mind sharpening with every step of his heavy-duty combat boots. From the shadows of mist, anything could leap, lunging for one's throat without a second thought. Thus, the TRS worker maintained caution as he patrolled the area, green hues scanning.
The red colourings of his elite status marked Riley's TRS mandated jacket, a beacon between the dulled surroundings of the fog. Hopefully, his uniform would draw the troublemaker from the endless amount of hiding places available for the despicable terrors. A hatchet hung around Riley's waist, meanwhile, a sheathed knife stationed itself alongside it. Weapons he long grew adjusted to alongside an increased power from the moisture in the air, the hunter was prepared to defend himself and eliminate the threat.
The environmental circumstances of the brunette's surroundings gave him ample amounts of flexibility. The water manipulating capabilities of the Smiling Pariah remained outstanding, the ability activating similar to second nature in the heat of battle. Light footfalls filled his ears in the silence of a foggy late afternoon. In the near-silence a voice breached his sensitive ears, far and barely audible from his distance, however, a louder yelp caught his attention. Attention fixated on a single place, the patrolling hunter launched himself forward into an enhanced sprint.
Noise filled his ears, from footsteps to muttered words, Riley followed whatever the world was willing to provide him... and bingo. There stood a creature faking the image of a bloodied clown, a common fear for the youthful, making advances on a young woman. The confirmation motivated the Elite Hunter to pick up speed, footsteps growing louder and as the creature turned its head, he struck. Steady handwork and a fanciful twirl, and a hatchet entered Riley's calloused hand for a backhanded swing aimed for the creature's head.
Given the troublemaker's close proximity to the young woman, the unktehi was willing to settle with what he received. A meagre upper shoulder hit as the terror flinched away. A smirk played across the masked elite's face as he clicked his tongue. Briefly, his eyes faltered to the creature's near-victim. The young woman possessed long locks of green hair with a matching pair of brilliant emerald optics. She appeared school-aged or freshly graduated, making it evident she was a young adult, however, that meant nothing with the existence of immortality.
"Stay right there, I'll keep you safe from this da- stupid terror," the hunter told her, narrowly keeping his language clean.
Promptly, Riley's eyes focused on the illusion of the bloodied clown the creature maintained. He watched it contort and change, alas, the elite wasted little time. Enhanced speed brought the unktehi close, the raised hatchet coming up in a hasty swing towards the creature. Narrowly, the troublemaker blocked with an arm, desperately attempting to protect itself from the elite who arrived to destroy it. The force behind the brunette's strength was frightful and despite the lack of additional physical abilities, Riley's hatchet swung through.
At mid-arm, the masked man's hatchet sliced through, black dust puffing up from the terror's wound. In seconds, water condensed from around the unktehi, Riley bringing it down onto the creature. Beneath the force of the unktehi's manipulation, it slammed against the asphalt of the outskirts. Once again, the crocodile shifter's mouth clicked as he sauntered closer, green eyes observing the dazed creature. For a final time, the hatchet was lifted high before crashing down into the terror's shadowy skull.
Dust flew from the sharpened edge of the blade as the unktehi brought the weapon back. In moments, the creature's body deteriorated, turning to the familiar black dust he witnessed time and time again. The elite blinked a couple of times before turning back towards the woman. Simultaneously, the hatchet was returned to its hold, Riley deciding to handle the mess later.
"You alright? Those things have some nasty claws on 'em," Riley asked, walking back to the young woman. "That should be the one causing trouble around here, so you should be safe now."
As Riley returned to the young woman, his green eyes began analyzing her. Every portion of the woman's body went under strict scrutiny, the young brunette searching for any injuries inflicting by the terror or potential threats. The Assembly participated in twisted games to catch hunters off guard, and Riley refused to become another victim to their villainous plans.
[attr="class","ayab-text"]As the clown guy began approaching, Ziya's heart thundered in her chest. She didn't know what was going to happen, but something in the clown's expression warned her it wouldn't be good. She needed to run. Or to throw something. Or to do anything. But she couldn't. [break][break] Suddenly there was something else going on. A man in a mask had joined the fray and he was attacking the clown. Wide eyed, Ziya ignored what the man said and took a few steps towards the chaos to grab her phone. She was supposed to call the cops when two people started fighting in an ally way right? Especially when one of them had nasty looking weapons. By the time her shaking hands began dialing, the fight was over and the intruder was focusing his attention on her. [break][break] She readjusted her bookbag over her shoulder as she backed away from the scary hatchet man. Her instincts were screaming even louder for her to flee. "Safe?" she asked incredulously. She was pretty sure when she was taught not to talk to strangers, this was the type of person that was being referred to. "I have no idea where I am, there are very few people around, and you still have blood on your big blade thingy from the murder you just did. Who the hell do you think you are? You just killed a guy because he looked scary! Who does that?!" [break][break] She paused, realizing she'd raised her voice at the hatchet man. "I-I don't want to be made dead too." she stuttered, taking another half a step back. She'd seen how fast he'd moved. If she tried to outrun him she didn't think she would make it very far. Maybe she could throw water in his face. It wouldn't do much to hurt, but she knew for a fact that when people had water thrown in their face it made them pause.
EVERYWHERE ARE THE WOLVES. THEY WATCH YOU AS YOU ROUND CORNERS, FANGS DRIPPING WITH DROOL IN PREPARATION FOR THE HUNT. YOU BETTER BE PREPARED TO FIGHT OR THEY'LL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE.
[attr="class","rileytalk"]Triumph filtered through Riley after he accomplished the task provided by the TRS. As an elite hunter, success was paramount and the execution of terrors a necessity. Raised as a fighter, the masked man’s talents persisted in combat, his skill flourishing beneath the cautious eye of a mentor and nowadays his peers. Never had he stepped out of the grounds his father led him, rather, he sharpened his knife for an alternate cause to carve himself out a future he wished… even if certain aspects laid dead before his arrival.
While Riley never expected unwavering admiration for the efforts he placed fourth, he hardly expected the reaction he was handed. People were regularly unnerved by the masked man's appearance, however, in these circumstances, he frequently received a silent appreciation from the individual in question. Nothing overwhelming, but enough to satisfy his efforts as a TRS hunter and a pleasant reminder he was accomplishing good... Yet, this woman instead promptly accused the brunette of murder, as though an actual person suffered the wrath of his hatchet.
Immediately, confusion played into his emerald eyes as befuddlement conquered his countenance with ease. Admittedly, the unktehi had accomplished his fair share of murders, both AP executions in difficult situations and the cruelty he administered under the grasp of Butcher Field... But, the situation that unfolded was definitely not among those sins. If anything, he played the heroic knight protecting a fair lady from a twisted monster, though, he did not expect anything in return. His thumb wriggled under the mask's chin, bringing it up to exhibit his puzzlement.
"Murder?" He echoed in a question. "Uh... You do realize that was a fu- ... a fricking terror right? Like you know, the murderous AP creatures that kill people?"
Part of Riley was astonished at the woman's abrupt accusation. There was a chance he could have appeared from the fog, a crazed lunatic arriving to murder people, however, the dust on his uniform and hatchet told an alternate story. Carefully, Riley unhooked the hatchet, keeping the weapon low to avoid startling her. His finger pointed to the black dust across the blade.
"See? Dust, not blood," he began, gesturing behind him. "Look, there isn't even a body. Those things disintegrate after you kill them, an actual person doesn't. It was just trying to trick you and scare you to catch you off guard so it could hurt you."
The unktehi was hopeful the explanation was enough... The notion of explaining to the police about being a hunter searching for a troublemaker was tiresome. While he lacked a record of arrests or general criminal activity, the brunette wanted to avoid being asked about his father's endless laundry list of offences... or anything worse. After showing her the weapon, Riley hooked the hatchet back onto his belt, hoping the proof would suffice.
[attr="class","ayab-lyrics"]be as you've always been
[attr="class","ayab-tagged"]for @//
[attr="class","ayab-body"]
[attr="class","ayab-shape"]
[attr="class","ayab-text"] Ziya didn’t quite understand hatchet man’s indignant anger. He had killed someone in front of her. His reasoning didn’t justify anything, right? She flinched back as her drew his blade in an attempt to prove some sort of innocence. At his indication she glanced behind him to find that he has, indeed, magically made the corpse vanish. That would certainly make it harder to prove he’d done anything. But it wasn’t like she had to prove it to anyone, they were the only ones around and they had both witnessed the same thing. He couldn’t gaslight her into thinking otherwise.
[break][break]
Instead of trying to actually sort through what hatchet man was saying, Ziya brushed it off as a sorry attempt at an excuse and rolled her eyes. ”No, I’ve seen a terror before, they don’t look like clowns,” she shook her head. ”But everyone knows only villains wear masks. You’re probably just trying to trick me.”
[break][break]
She had more to say on the subject, but she paused as her phone buzzed and frowned at the time. Her parents would be expecting her home any any minute and she didn’t even know how far in the wrong direction she’d gone. If she got grounded because the murdering masked dude distracted her she would be pissed. [break][break] ”Look, hatchet man, I really have to get home or I’ll get in trouble so can you argue whether you do or do not plan on killing me while we walk?” She didn’t give him much time to debate before choosing a random direction and beginning to walk with a completely unearned confidence, figuring she’d find something she recognised eventually no matter which way she went. If the hatchet man was going to kill her there wasn’t much she could do about it, but it seemed like she was safe for the moment anyway.
EVERYWHERE ARE THE WOLVES. THEY WATCH YOU AS YOU ROUND CORNERS, FANGS DRIPPING WITH DROOL IN PREPARATION FOR THE HUNT. YOU BETTER BE PREPARED TO FIGHT OR THEY'LL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE.
[attr="class","rileytalk"]Information about the war between TRS and the Assembly was a wide-known conflict Lorsette was absorbed in. Thus, Riley’s initial instincts were believing the young, female stranger would recognize the trademarks of the malicious creatures. Blackened, transforming creatures that dissipated to dust when killed was a specific trait of those monsters. The brunette was hopeful the woman would believe him rather than dialing the police and providing him a fresh serving of awkward problems.
Unfortunately, common sense would fail to persuade the insistent young woman. The green-haired girl stated she knew what a terror was, thus Riley thought she would recognize the trademarks. The status of his hatchet proved it, coated with a thin layer of black dust clinging to the silvery head. However, all hope diminished when the woman proceeded to state that terrors did not look like clowns. Confusion echoed in Riley’s green eyes as he looked at the woman. Was she serious? Or blissfully unaware of the transformation capabilities of terrors?
“... Yeah, because he turned into a clown…” He stated, finger pointing to the pin symbolizing his division. “Look, I have the uniform and everything. Just ask TRS if they know a Riley Chaeffeur and I’m tellin’ ya kid! I’m a hunter, that was a troublemaker, I was doing my job.”
Everything about the young woman was bewildering the centuries-old hunter. Her insistence that only villains wear masks appeared a superficial fact. His countenance exhibited his confusion as he stared at the individual he rescued from danger. A brand new nickname arrived with the woman’s distrust of him as he became labelled as ‘hatchet man’. A groan left his mouth at the stranger’s insistence on his goal to kill her.
“I don’t plan to kill you, but okay,” he grumbled. “Lead the way, miss.”
Despite the young woman's ridiculous insistences, Riley decided to stick by her. However, he was certain that if more terrors appeared and shifted, the stranger would believe him to be a mass-murdering serial killer... No matter how many bodies turned to dust from the functions of terrors...
[attr="class","ayab-text"] Ziya was glad that the man didn’t question her demand for him to accompany her home. He may have been big and scary, but for the moment it didn’t seem like he planned on using that bigness or scariness against her. For all she knew there may have been other clowns or masked men lurking around and she didn’t know what she’d do if another one jumped out. [break][break] As she led them forward, Ziya didn’t bother looking back. She felt confident he’d follow. ”Riley Chauffeur…” she pondered carefully. ”No, I don’t believe that’s your real name.” she shook her head. It simply wasn’t possible for a bit scary masked man to have a name like that. ”Riley is a girl’s name. I know several girls named Riley, but no guys.” she elaborated decidedly, but then something else popped up in her mind. ”Oh but wait! In Europe don’t they use Mackenzie as a guy’s name? Are you from Europe hatchet man?” she glanced back at him for a moment but didn’t give him a chance to reply before continuing on. ”Also why would it help your case that you’re with the TRS? That’s one of the groups that does all the war stuff, right? War’s bad. It makes a lot of people die. Are you going to die? Whether you’re a murdering hatchet man or not you seem nice. You don’t deserve to die. No one does I think. Except maybe my brother when he steals my pizza but even then not really.” [break][break] Unaware of her rambling, Ziya finally paused as she came to an intersection and didn’t know which direction to pick. If she kept going forward it was a nice open street, versus turning left into an questionable looking alley. She could remember turning recently but she didn’t remember going down any narrow alleys. ”Uuuhhhhh…..” she muttered, coming to a complete stop as she tried to decide.
EVERYWHERE ARE THE WOLVES. THEY WATCH YOU AS YOU ROUND CORNERS, FANGS DRIPPING WITH DROOL IN PREPARATION FOR THE HUNT. YOU BETTER BE PREPARED TO FIGHT OR THEY'LL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE.
[attr="class","rileytalk"]Everything happening was a confusing mystery stewing inside Riley's head. The unktehi would be dishonest if he stated he understood the stranger's apprehension of him, but the reasons were beyond him. Despite attempting logical arguments, the green-haired woman refused to budge on her beliefs of him. Summoning more bewilderment was her lack of screaming or hastily dialing for 911... She was adamant about standing beside a killer, yet, she exhibited zero signs of fear or concern about the present situation.
In desperation to persuade the young woman about his alignment, things only went further into the deep end. Logical arguments failed to gain any ground against the stranger, rather, she appeared to be living in the depths of an alternate world. As her words reached his ears, his face dropped. Befuddlement conquered his expression as he attempted to comprehend the sheer absurdity of her argument, especially in modern times... Names easily travelled around, preconceived notions about the monikers being shattered centuries before him.
The unktehi blinked at her, confusion clouding his green eyes as he tried his hardest to grasp her foolish argument. What did Riley being a girl's name have anything to do with his identity?! He met plenty of men with more feminine names than his, however, his was singled out.
"No... I was born in Lorsette... What does Riley being a girl's name even have anything to do with this?! It's unisex... I... That isn't even an argument! Even if it was a girl's name, for all you know, my mom decided to name me like a girl," he argued.
The words about the TRS resulted in Riley's hand meeting his face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Comprehending the green-haired woman's words and arguments was impossible. Every word was twisting and blending together as Riley attempted to dissect her arguments to find a method of initiating trust... However, he was adamant it was nonexistent because of the stranger's stubborn nature.
"Because TRS are better than the Assembly who murder people for fun? I mean, I argue that is a good reason," he grumbled at her. "I don't plan to die, that is a bit of a morbid question."
The brunette followed behind the peculiar, confusing woman. His hands had retreated to the pockets of his TRS mandated jacket, his steps slow as he analyzed his surroundings. Through the fog, they ventured until they reached a 4-way intersection, where the woman paused. When his sensitive ears detected her muttered noise, he glanced over with confusion in his eyes.
"What?" He inquired.
His eyes swept around the fog surrounding them. The silence was eerie, leaving Riley on edge as he stood alongside her. After being accused of murder and adopting the nickname "Hatchet Man", he wanted to finish his duty and leave this as one of those oddball stories he could tell coworkers.
Ziya crossed her arms over her chest as the hatchet man questioned her sudden pause. ”It’s nothing,” she assured him, her gaze travelling the horizon for any sense of which way was north. She couldn’t see far enough through the fog. She was going to be so late and then she’d get in trouble and she didn’t really want to get in trouble. ”I just have absolutely no idea where we are.” She shrugged and continued forward down the larger road with a confidence she in no way deserved. For all she knew she could be going in the complete opposite direction. But as long as she was moving she was sure she’d find something familiar. Lorsette wasn’t that large, right? [break][break] Without missing another bear she continued their conversation from before they’d stopped. ”Also it wasn’t a morbid question, it was a serious one. I don’t really care what side you’re on, they’d both say the same things. Claiming their fighting for glory and what’s right or whatever. Really though the AP wouldn’t have grown to be what it is and recruited so many fighters if they hadn’t been facing similar rising numbers from the TRS all these years. It just builds, nothing ever gets fixed. Not through fighting.” She hadn’t been raised with much influence by the two organisations and she didn’t really understand the entirety of the thread the AP possessed, but she felt pretty confident in her logic. ”In history class they taught us that the only people who profit from wars are the ones selling the weapons or the third army that sweeps in after the first two have worn themselves out. So you shouldn’t die for a cause that’s only going to keep throwing peoples lives away. It seems like a pointless way to go.” She tilted her head slightly to the side and considered the matter more carefully. ”Personally I’d like to die doing something fun. Or at least having lived that way. But not yet though!” she hurriedly added the last sentence with a sideways glance at the potential murderer. There was no need to give him any ideas.
EVERYWHERE ARE THE WOLVES. THEY WATCH YOU AS YOU ROUND CORNERS, FANGS DRIPPING WITH DROOL IN PREPARATION FOR THE HUNT. YOU BETTER BE PREPARED TO FIGHT OR THEY'LL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE.
[attr="class","rileytalk"]Never had Riley discovered someone more incomprehensible than the green-haired teen he rescued from a killer, terror clown. Portions of the unktehi were uncertain on what to converse about after the abrupt accusations of being a murder. While under heavy duress, many died by the TRS elite’s hand as choices and options deteriorated from a single, foolish deal. However, those tumultuous years suffocating beneath his father’s reign never prepared him for the mental battle that was handling this complex, green-haired woman.
After the horrors he witnessed and the ongoing struggles within, Riley expected him to handle the duties of a hunter without question. He never expected the confusing wrench that threw herself into the gears at full fucking force. Despite accusing him of being a murderer, she remained beside him, yet adamant that he was a horrible murderer. Her reasonings were nonsensical, one regarding the “feminine” nature of his name and the other refusing to believe the shape-shifting capabilities of terrors. Though, her comments suggested he would not be escaping the confusing circumstance quickly.
She was lost, completely unaware of her location amidst the fog of the city. The unktehi bit back a groan as he followed the lost girl.
“Well… What’s the address? Maybe I can help?” He asked as he followed.
He was uncertain if the stranger would decide to provide her address. If the green-haired woman genuinely believed he was a murderer, she would never provide it, right? Instead, she would use their wandering as an excuse to try and discover distance. When she mentioned another morbid question, Riley barely resisted the urge to sigh. Though, rather than a question, the woman began rambling about the woes of war and how both sides were culpable. Never did her question arise, merely mentions of how weapon dealers win and how he should not die, and how she wished to die doing something fun.
The brunette stared at the stranger, confusion evident in the depths of his green eyes. He attempted to dissect her words for the question, but it was nonexistent.
“Um… Where was the question?” He asked, voice laced with perplexion.
He could barely understand the green-haired woman, and now he needed to pick apart her conversation to discover the true questions? The unktehi could easily sense his circumstance was going to be challenging up until he managed to escort the young woman home.
[attr="class","ayab-text"]Ziya blinked at his question. The address? "Uh..." she brushed a strand of lose hair out of her face. "Ya know, I'm not really sure. It's the yellow house with the doormat and the tree. It's next to the weird green one with the windows and the red jeep that's always outside." She nodded. That seemed like a pretty detailed explanation, if he knew where it was he'd be able to figure it out. And if not how could he help her if he had the address. "Oh wait! That made it sound like my house doesn't have windows. It does, they're just different because the ones at the weird green house are weird." [break][break] As they came to another turn, Ziya took it more confidently. It didn't matter that she had no idea where they were, she'd recognize something eventually. "Don't worry, I've lived in Lorsette all my life, I'll figure it out eventually." she assured him. "You know, if you were from Europe it would be ok that you're a murderer. Europeans are raised differently because they have a different culture so I'm not supposed to judge them if they act in strange ways."
EVERYWHERE ARE THE WOLVES. THEY WATCH YOU AS YOU ROUND CORNERS, FANGS DRIPPING WITH DROOL IN PREPARATION FOR THE HUNT. YOU BETTER BE PREPARED TO FIGHT OR THEY'LL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE.
[attr="class","rileytalk"]Comprehending the young woman before Riley was impossible, and he considered that putting it lightly. Nonsensical phrases and words escaped her lips without second thought or hesitation, as though her mind possessed no filtration. Every second, she rambled on about different topics, occasionally under the guise of questions. The brunette followed behind her, uncertain about how the remainder of their time together would progress. The green-haired teenager had accused him of being a fucking murderer barely a second into their interaction, and still refused to believe him.
He knew the clown was a terror, the unktehi could recognize the creatures anywhere, his superior senses recognizing their disturbing odour. However, Riley was certain bringing up their corpse-like scent would only result in the young woman scolding him for murdering a clown with abhorrent body odour or blaming him for the abrupt scent of death. The TRS elite hunter wanted to get the strange, green-haired girl home as quickly as possible to escape her blind accusations. Alas, Riley shortly discovered the difficulties in returning her to her abode.
Bare minimum explanations of a home were useful when one was already in the neighbourhood... but absolutely useless when on the outskirts of Lorsette! The unktehi doubted she lived in the crime-ridden outskirts of Lorsette. If she genuinely thought him a murderer and she lived here, he would have received the extreme stinging of mace or the blaring of a self-defence alarm. A long, exasperated sigh escaped the crocodile's lips as his eyes half-lidded.
"So... you don't have an address? There's like... hundreds of homes at least, I can't find it based on that! Do you have anyone you can call to get the address or something?" The unktehi responded, attempting to keep his annoyance jailed in his mind.
With the recent happenings around him, Riley's suspicions pointed towards the answer being no. She could already imagine her merrily informing him how she would be home alone and nobody would be available to answer her. Additionally, he could already hear the green-haired woman informing him that it would be the perfect opportunity to murder her... Her attempts to reassure him by stating she lived in Lorsette her entire life accomplished little to comfort Riley. Though, the addition of cultural differences proceeded to stun him; and prove his point in his opinion.
"Wh-what?" The words escaped his lips automatically as he stared at her, completely dumbfounded by her words. "... I... I don't think murder is legal anywhere."
Admittedly, Riley was not certain if arguing with the green-haired woman was worth the trouble. If anything, there was a chance his denial of her "facts" would only motivate her further. Murder was definitely a crime, including in Europe! It was among the reasons everybody at Butcher Field was arrested alongside charges of unlawful detainment, torture, extortion and a long laundry list of other crimes he had forgotten. He stood at the turning point with the stranger, hoping she would recall the way to her home in a few moments.
[attr="class","ayab-lyrics"]be as you've always been
[attr="class","ayab-tagged"]for @//
[attr="class","ayab-body"]
[attr="class","ayab-shape"]
[attr="class","ayab-text"] “Someone to call…” she muttered quietly. “I could call one of my dads. They’d be pissed though, I’m not supposed to talk to murderer. Or strangers.” They’d also probably be upset that she was taking so long to get home. It was definitely better to just find her way back herself and try to sneak into her room. Then she could avoid the issue altogether. [break][break] Ziya shot a sharp look at the murderer at his response to her open mindedness about European traditions. “Thats very rude, you know. You can’t go judging other people’s cultures. That’s called… uhhhhh…. Racism?” It definitely sounded like racism. “So wait, you’re a racist murderer? Was the clown also European then?”
EVERYWHERE ARE THE WOLVES. THEY WATCH YOU AS YOU ROUND CORNERS, FANGS DRIPPING WITH DROOL IN PREPARATION FOR THE HUNT. YOU BETTER BE PREPARED TO FIGHT OR THEY'LL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE.
[attr="class","rileytalk"]Perhaps his suggestion to speed things along was the worse possible idea. The green-haired woman was determined to think of him as a murderer. While Riley became a hunter from convenience rather than the desire to assist. However, the brunette could thoroughly state he never expected to be berated about being a murderer for doing his job. Nonetheless, the idea of being reported by a frightened father was something Riley would rather avoid... Those were dangerous accusations for a man once forced to kill.
The blood on his hands was endless, and should people push that envelope, he would become trapped. Being trapped meant his father's victory, and Riley needed to avoid it at all costs. Thus, unfortunately, he could not allow this young woman to tell her fathers about him being a "murderer". Then again, with her nonsensical jargon, there was a chance they would not believe her...
"I'm not a murderer, but okay," Riley stated, breathing an exasperated huff.
Racist murderer. Could their ridiculous conversation become any worse? Every interaction merely added additional criticisms... Criticisms he accomplished nothing to earn... The brunette could not resist the dumbfounded expression touching his face as he gazed at the green-haired woman.
"I'm pretty sure if your culture is murder, you are a cultist," his annoyed words left him automatically. "Also, once again, the clown was a terror, I'm a TRS hunter... you know Terror Response Syndicate..."
He could barely comprehend where her convoluted notions arrived from. Perhaps her fathers passed on the behaviours?! A slow breath escaped Riley's lips, his breathing becoming gradual to ease himself. Handling this woman was difficult, but he would resolve to find her home. His eyes flitted about, the weariness entering them as he gazed. The unktehi scratched the back of his head, contemplating how he would manage to find her home.
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A Chatango account is not required, but it is encouraged.
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Please avoid spamming the chat; accidents are understandable.
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You may use the in-character chat prior to acceptance.
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Be respectful to anybody who enters the chat, including guest, fellow members and staff.
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Guests may speak in chat at anytime to ask questions or get a taste of our community~!
resource sites
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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.
