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!
After their mother left the family, the remaining individuals grew immensely close. Always, Desmond would concern himself with his family's health. Their father, despite the trouble the older sibling caused, assured to rear them between the melancholy of his wife leaving. Meanwhile, his sister became a person he could always rely on for friendship and advice at times. The male ginger leaned back in his seat with a soft 'hmm' humming from his lips. The longer he stared at the menu, the more Desmond solidified his choices.
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"Oh, I know. You were always looking after me when I was causing trouble," he responded with a light-hearted chuckle. "Somebody besides dad needed to look out for me, so I appreciate it, Elysia."
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Quietly, he leaned back, closing the menu and placing it on the table. The thought of their father joining brought a smile to Desmond's lips as he eased.
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"What do you think dad would order? I bet he would want the chicken sandwich," he asked in a light-hearted voice.
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Both were familiar with their father and his eating habits, however, nobody could compare to Elysia. The long-haired ginger cooked their meals at times to assist around the house. If anything, she could be known as the Wilts Family Head Chef in comparison to Desmond and their father. He watched the waitress return as Elysia continued analyzing the menu for her choice for the day. As the waitress greeted them, Desmond gave her a soft smile.
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"Hello. I'll get today's soup and sandwich on white, and to drink... water will be fine, thank you," Desmond stated.
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He kept his voice levelled and gradual, hoping to buy Elysia a few more precious seconds to think over her choices. He wanted his little sister to get exactly what she wanted from the meal after all.
Between the scouting missions, additional work and everything, the opportunity to rest and visit Elysia was incredible. Despite the weariness from weeks of relentless work, Desmond refused to skip their reunion of sorts. Despite the expected scolding of his younger sister and her unyielding fretting, the nephilim could never miss a proposed meeting. In dire circumstances where he required rest, he could simply schedule around it as needed before carrying on with the day. Besides, their meeting involved lunch, thus if anything, he was hitting two birds with a single stone.
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As her scolding reached his ears, Desmond smiled and waved a dismissive hand. The older sibling attempted to avoid skipping meals or losing excessive amounts of rest. It only hindered him when the time arrived to begin scouting and progressing in their task. Nonetheless, Desmond was used to accomplishing everything he needed to keep the family afloat alongside his father's efforts. They struggled plenty after all, and through everything, Desmond and Elysia learned to grow up quickly and shoulder life's burdens for their father.
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"I am, besides, I argue I'm hitting two birds with one stone with this idea," he responded with a light-hearted chuckle and tone. "So I know what I'm doing, Ely. I won't leave you to worry too much."
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Given Desmond's occupation, worry was a natural emotion others exhibited toward him. Unfortunately, avoiding injuries or threats of violence was difficult when operating as a TRS scout. The ginger-haired man knew how to protect himself, however, his abilities did not compare to the skillful hunters whose sole duty was fighting.
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"Hmm... Maybe today's special? The soup and sandwich looks pretty good," the nephilim answered. "What about you, Ely?"
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Already, Desmond planned to ask about the latest developments in the long-haired woman's life. Despite the constant churning of work, the nephilim was hopefully Elysia heeded her own scolding.
The pleasantries evident from Desmond’s younger sister appeared in her benevolence. Despite being unable to host a proper conversation, Elysia kindly assured there would be meals or leftovers from the foods she made. However, the ginger-haired man considered it her natural instinct as a young chef accompanied by their closeness as a family. They suffered through plenty of hardships together, successfully championing through life despite the pitfalls. Thus, Desmond felt excited about finally sitting down alongside his sister.
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Quietly, the ginger-haired man awaited his sister’s arrival, pondering the dish he craved for the day. He enjoyed Elysia’s cooking. After their mother abandoned them, the young girl grew up quickly and learned the fundamentals. Her skills proved her, the woman’s occupation perhaps being sculpted by the requirements in her life. With a coming reunion, Desmond wanted to avoid forcing Elysia or himself to enter the kitchen, hence, the new restaurant became the method. The familiar voice of his sister reached his ears, prompting Desmond to glance at his sister.
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A broad smile tickled his lips, the scout relaxing in his seat. He waited a long time for this moment, and finally, his little sister had arrived.
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“Too long,” Desmond chuckled out the response. “God, I missed us doing this. *sigh* I need to avoid becoming so busy.”
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Work was a constantly churning cog in the summer months. People required protection and round the clock scouting became a requirement as a result. Hunters needed pinpointed locations to track down the creatures wreaking havoc. A necessity to ensure people’s safety. Once Elysia was seated, Desmond passed his sister the second menu.
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“I already got menus, just told the waitress that I was waiting for someone,” he explained casually. “I… kinda know what I want, but I’m still pondering a bit, so take your time.”
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The ginger-haired man smiled at his sister. Finally being in her presence again brought the warmth of sibling love that Desmond craved. These sibling outings were something that the scout wished to establish more frequently. If anything, their closeness demanded it.
Summer's arrival summoned forth the Pandora's Box of terrors. The multiple types of sinister beasts were lurking in the streets, causing both mischief and abhorrent offences to the bustling city of Lorsette. It led to misgivings towards the season given the business and perils spectated during it. Frequently, Desmond discovered the obnoxious nature of summer's terror activity spike. In the weeks of June, the ginger-haired man found himself ducking, weaving, flying and tracking terrors and the actions of various AP members.
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The task was overwhelming at times as Lorsette kicked off into tourism season. People required protection from the Assembly, therefore, TRS was expected to provide. Lulls in the persistent activity were limited, rather, everything kept pushing Desmond further and further until the weariness set in. In the morning hours, Desmond Wilts had been run ragged. Multiple terrors were tracked down and provided to the hunters, yet, the moment a hunt was finished another would arise. While the hunters grew tired from fighting off the nasty beasts, Desmond began becoming a weary-eyed tracker.
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In the aftermath of everything, the ginger-haired scout was left exhausted with eyes blinking heavily. The wind-down into lunchtime only became more meaningful with its arrival. Pre-emptively, the scout had made arrangements to meet with his sister at a recently opened restaurant to try their lunch menu. Between the strenuous work and required rest time, Desmond possessed limited time to catch up with his younger sister, Elysia. Despite still catching passing glimpses of the long-haired ginger, the candy-obsessed nephilim still found himself starving for proper interaction.
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Since their youth, the siblings had been close to one another, despite the trauma of their mother leaving. Each supported the other, becoming stronger with the words of kindness shared. It made moments of connection and conversation a stern requirement. The sounds of air swishing past filled Desmond's years as he grew closer to the destination. The outstretched wings of the nephilim were growing weary, however, flight was considered an optimal form of travel for the ginger. His green eyes observed the ground below, scanning the surroundings as he searched for the familiar streets where the restaurant laid.
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Eventually, they locked onto the familiar storefront of the chosen location. Quickly, the nephilim dived, his wings folding close to allow a fall through the air until unfolding to parachute the remainder of his descent. His feet his the concrete gently as his eyes surveyed for nearby pedestrians. Despite their usefulness, Desmond's wings were large pieces capable of knocking others over without much effort. Once comfortably landed, the scout folded his wings against his back. The feathered limbs glowed a soft white hue as they seeming dissipated into nothing; they unmanifested.
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A long sigh escaped Desmond's lips as he pushed through the restaurant doors to find a table, or where Elysia was sitting should she have arrived first. Easement transcended over the scout's shoulders with the arrival of the treasured time. Finally, he would be able to spend time with the younger sister he valued.
Memories of a past relationship mingled with the endless nervousness captured in Desmond's mind, infecting his heart and blinding his brain to the possibility of difference. Yet, despite these emotions fraternizing, he found himself remembering Zachary was an entirely different individual. Somebody sweeter and more benevolent than Leon, the man he crushed on and formerly dated. The conflict of two separate opinions held in a single person placed a lack of reason in those anxieties, yet, still fed them.
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The snuggling against his shoulder resulted in a sharp inhale of oxygen brought on by the inner turmoil haunting his mind. A new feature was added to the nervous mess Desmond was becoming. He bit down on his lower lip, light chewing occurring while his mind entered an overdrive panic. It reminded him of more intimate affairs, frightening him with thoughts of being abandoned again while another part screamed Zachary's difference. There was a subtle quaking to the nephilim as he laid beside the man he cared about most.
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As the inquiry arrived, his green eyes spared a glance at the angel. He remembered Zachary's trembling, the way he reacted after the nightmare... If he failed to learn to fight his afflictions now, the man he claimed to care about would inevitably suffer the consequences. A shaky inhale was accomplished and held as Desmond attempted to scrape together a little courage.
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"I'm fine," he mumbled on the exhale.
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Breaks of fear could be narrowly noticed in his pitch. He disguised his nervousness about the circumstance, refusing to allow Zachary to hear it. He wanted to protect the angel from his sorrows, therefore, he would grin and bear it for his sake.
Anxieties consumed Desmond as he laid alongside the magnificent Zachary Everett. The heavyset breathing was a consequence of the closeness he shared with the man he loved. Arms were wrapped around the nephilim, his mind panicking as their proximity tightened. The ginger chewed upon his lower lip as he attempted to manifest some form of relation for his nervous mind. Despite his enjoyment of Zachary’s companionship when they were distanced, closeness always made him struggle.
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There were wishes he could improve to assist the wondrous angel who shattered his beliefs of all angels being selfish in action. Quickened breathing was inevitable through their conversation, the repeated mantra of ‘You’ll be okay. You can trust, Zac’ repeating indefinitely through his mind. As his struggle proceeded, he managed to listen to the notions of bothering his beloved. While his countenance maintained an expression of anxiety, beneath were concerns about Zachary.
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The angel’s crying startled Desmond as he felt ahead against his shoulder. For a moment his breathing spiked, the nephilim's hands curling into balls from anxiety.
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“Al-alice’s mum... is dangerous,” he narrowly mumbled out. “You good…”
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The words were questionably strung together because of the nervousness claiming Desmond. Each word was arranged in a clunky manner and laced with tones of anxiety. He struggled to speak in regards to the matter or provide comfort for the man he loved... The nervousness was getting to him...
Witnessing Zachary's terrified tremoring summoned upsetting emotions for the young nephilim. Despite the frightening churning inside his stomach, Desmond wished to assist the angel who displayed nothing but patience with him. Alas, as he leaned down onto the bed, the ginger-haired man already discovered his breathing quickening. Anxieties were grasping his shoulders because he decided to sacrifice his comfort to assist the angel he cared about most. Yet, he was required to survive through his nervousness to rescue Zachary from the sorrows haunting him.
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Fortunately, the action was appreciated by Zachary, evident by a peripheral glance at the man. There were tears welling inside of his eyes, overwhelming the brilliant blue hues. The nephilim's heart kickstarted when he noticed Zachary's arms stretched out. Automatically, he began chewing his lower lip, a little anxious about the procedures to come once the angel's arms wrapped around him. Alas, they never arrived as Desmond attempted to motivate himself, rather, they remained suspended as though someone hit pause on a remote meant for Zachary.
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Moments later, the arm slowly landed on him, Desmond's breathing quickening in natural panic. You will be okay. You will be okay. You will be okay. The words were repeated in the nephilim's head as closeness manifested between them. Despite the concerns shuffling through Desmond's head, he managed to hear Zachary's question. Through the panic, his eyes softened with worry.
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"Zac," he whispered, voice a little fragile. "You're an amazing parent... Alice l-loves you... y-you take of her."
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The words were quiet as they escaped Desmond's lips, a fragility evident in his voice. He attempted to convey comfort, unfortunately, there was a struggle due to the fear consuming the nephilim. He wanted to help, but inside, his feelings battled and caused conflict.
Disheartened emotions crushed Desmond like a tidal wave as silence answered his question. A frown drooped across his lips as the nephilim sniffled. Tears were dried through the sleeve of his TRS mandated jacket. He desperately wanted to keep them from flowing, but his worries consumed him. The inner turmoil battled, terrors versing the fictional hunters attempting to keep his emotions from going under. Between his worries about Zachary and lack of preparation to handle the situation presented to him, Desmond found himself conflicted.
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Somebody needed to help the benevolent man, but nobody else was nearby and dragging Alice into the situation would worsen matters. Fright stirred in the depths of Desmond's chest at the thought of being used again... in becoming a meagre pleasure servant. Yet, the trembling angel required his love to survive the situation and stave away the fears from the nightmares. Mentally, the doctor was tortured by the turmoil in his mind as well, a mutual pain. The ginger-haired man nibbled his bottom lip, watching for seconds longer.
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A breath was inhaled, memories of Zachary's benevolence being hammered into his mind until Desmond took the chance. The scout kept Zachary's hand in his and leaned himself into a laying position.
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"I... I trust you, Zac," he mumbled through trembling lips. "I... I... I'm scared... but... I want to help you."
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The angel promised him patience, treated him kindly and rescued him from dastardly monsters. The least he could do is provide the well-needed comfort for his crush. It was a needed action despite the fear lurking inside.
Conflicts existed inside of Desmond’s mind as tears rolled down his cheeks. The shakiness of his breath was evident as he gasped for air and released it in a slow, unregulated mess. The haunting memories of his past experiences in relationships dug into him similar to the talons of a predatory bird. He was the mouse and the memories the hawk threatening to devour him. Inside, his heartbeat turned rapid, thumping hard against his sternum. Anxieties were claiming him quick, feeding on the trepidation of his feeble heart for strength.
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Then the words of benevolent patience escaped the lips of the man he loved. The nephilim's head lifted, green eyes staring through pooled tears at the magnificent individual. He donated understanding, a willingness to allow Desmond to grow more comfortable before proceeding with the steps which insinuated potential intimacy. He sniffled, breaths wheezing through his congested windpipe. An arm reached to roughly wipe away tears, irritating his sensitive, swollen cheeks. Deep breathes were attempted, failing until finally discovering purchase.
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You are good enough. Those words stringed together to promote confidence and reassurance... It was something Desmond could appreciate. Through his wheezing breaths, he listened to Zachary proceed to speak. Emotions diminished as the angel stated he was not alright, but attempted to dismiss those worries with a follow-up comment. Despite the compliment blossoming the hints of a fluster, Desmond swallowed a deep breath and exhaled. Physically, his crush displayed reactions of distress with the manner he quivered in fear...
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Those were not the assurances of somebody who would become okay... rather the fragile attempts of courage.
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"... I... I still want to be there..." He mumbled through the congestion of his mouth. "Want to... talk about it?"
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The words were quiet, narrowly interpretable because of the congested state of Desmond's mouth. Alas, he wished to replace Zachary's desires of physical closeness by offering a person to lean on emotionally. Somebody to dump out worries without hesitation to receive consolement in return. It felt neccessary. Out of all his capabilities, it was something Desmond could provide without the fears of intimacy creeping in to ruin a perfect relationship.
Worries consumed Desmond the longer he watched Zachary quake in fear because of an unstoppable force. A fight had conquered the angel's mind through his slumber, leaving the man the ginger-haired man viewed. A frown carved into the nephilim's lips, his concerns abandoned for a moment. What happened during his crush's descent into the land of sleep? Rather than explain the terror enveloping him, Desmond watched as Zachary rolled onto his side. Face hidden beneath the covers and body proceeding to tremble... it was difficult to watch.
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Their hands remained intertwined throughout the angel's attempts to hide from him. The shaking worsened and the quietness hanged. Inside Desmond's chest was an aching sensation, but he was terrified of taking this further than he already did. A beat skipped before his heart thudded hard against his chest... Lonesomeness was confessed despite the connection between their hands. Breathing became scarce as the ginger-haired Nephilim discovered himself panicking at the thought of getting any closer...
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Everything was moving so fast... it overwhelmed him! What if Zachary discovered he hated him?! What if they fought?! What if they broke up?! The series of concerns struck cords, resulting in Desmond shaking, frightened to take the risk. The first time, Leon recklessly grabbed his heart, squeezed it and slammed it onto the floor before stomping on it. He left him bleeding there... hurting as he was informed the only thing he was important for was sex... nothing more... All the romantic things he did and attempts of care mattered naught.
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Tears slithered down from the corners of Desmond's eyes. He was unable to help... he failed in pleasing his crush...
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"I... I can't..." He mumbled, words congested. "I'm not... good enough... I'm sorry..."
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Through whimpered words he spoke, a pained heart panicking as memories surfaced. Memories of snuggles, happy days between lovers and eventually the shattering of his emotional response to affection. He never took it well... He never loved somebody before Leon... and that man made him feel like a failure when it arrived to loving relationships. The nephilim sniffled, his arm to wipe tears onto his sleeve.
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"I d-don't... want you... to feel alone," he mumbled through heavy, congested breaths. "But... I'm so scared... Leon- mmm."
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Another whimper escaped his lips unintentionally. Recovery felt far as the ginger-haired nephilim found himself overwhelmed. He wanted words of comfort, he wanted things to slow down... No, he needed things to slow down before he could go any further... else the anxieties of his scars would manage a devastating grip. All he desired was a moment to breathe, a moment to remember he was safe and everything would be alright, but he struggled to convey those requirements in words. Rather, his lips quivered as he breathed heavily, terrified of the consequences of inability... Leon always got mad if he showed so much as discomfort after all.
Anxiety vice-gripped around Desmond’s heart, constricted it as it lept nervously inside his rib cage. Never could he handle previous experiences of intimate interaction, and currently, it displayed itself in all its menacing terror. The sheet concept of romantic connection resulted in a response similar to one a crazed beast with sharpened fangs gleaming with blood dye was capable of. The nephilim’s upper teeth gently bit down upon his lip as he inched towards the bed where Zachary laid. The damaged angel required somebody more than ever and Desmond worried about failing those needs.
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There was the love shared between them, restrained by the fearful actions of an emotionally crippled man. A compromise was offered, provided more substance with Zachary's suggestion. Sit on the bed, beside him, with their hands intertwined. It prompted intense heart flutters in the depths of his chest cavity. A deep breath was inhaled and held inside his lungs as he hesitantly took his initial steps forward. The least he could do was sit on the bed beside him and provide the support the doctor required.
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Gradually, he stepped forward, closing in on the bed. Breathing elevated with every footstep, hairs standing on the back of his neck. Should somebody view his body language and facial expression, perhaps they would have assumed a hunter heading off to battle. Alas, the real battleground existed inside Desmond's mind as he powered through fears of intimacy and love to be there for Zachary; the man he cared about most. The ginger-haired nephilim softly chewed his lower lip as he stiffly turned to sit on the bedside.
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Once settled, he hesitantly offered his hand to Zachary, arm trembling as he prepared for their hands to embrace. As their hands collided, Desmond flinched, biting down hard on his lip. The pressure was released from his lower lip slowly as he forced a slow breath. A warmth settled between their connected hands and from concerns of releasing, he anxiously squeezed Zachary's. He could not let go! He got so far! Throughout his nervous, insecure thoughts, Zachary had managed to begin the process of slumbering while Desmond attempted to control his breathing.
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Hours may have passed, Desmond was uncertain... The fixation on his breathing and attempts to maintain calmness in the midst of negative memories surfacing was a disconcerting situation. Thoughts of inadequacy filled Desmond's mind as he stared at the carpeted floor. Certainly, Zachary deserved somebody more capable of handling the more affectionate stuff, right? Those small activities such as embraces and... kissing felt beyond the emotionally scarred ginger. Why could he not be better for him?! Thoughts were shattered when he heard Zachary's voice, his body becoming aware suddenly.
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The scout's head slowly turned, green eyes locking onto the doctor. Worry consumed him quickly as his eyes turned soft on the man he loved. The man's body was shaking in absolute fright as he pleaded for closeness... a far cry from the regularly determined doctor... Under most circumstances, Zachary's possessed a military man's bravery with the method he protected important people in his life. The reaction was a stark contrast.
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"What's wrong, Zac?" He whispered.
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For once, those anxieties could be shoved aside as he watched the angel quiver beneath the covers. Merely witnessing his body language made Desmond's heart ache. He never observed Zachary's reaction to fear... and for years, he believed the doctor to be calm beneath any suffocating pressure. Yet, here he laid, shaking in terror.
Benevolence, a trait held tightly by the angel Desmond adored. The patience exhibited by his precious crush was appreciated throughout their courtship, alas, the courtship phase was not completed for the ginger-haired nephilim. He felt unprepared for a relationship and painfully anxious about the sheer thought. Honestly, the scout felt horrible for his lack of comfort in the situation. The wonderful man was prepared for the following step, however, Desmond failed to step across those stepping stones. It was difficult when every stone was placed in a past-moving river filled with malicious piranhas!
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Through the initial steps, a kindly hand led the way, guiding him across, but those stepping stones still frightened him. Never was Desmond capable of forging those types of connections with others, but Zachary changed the playing field. There were genuine emotions of love, however, they frequently received blindsiding from fears of romantic interaction. Inside his chest, the ginger-haired's heart rapidly thudded against his sternum as he nervously attempted to gather his thoughts. Alas, it proved difficult because of the situation presented to him.
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Fortunately, he managed to ease Zachary's concerns by confessing his emotions. The repeated, whispered question was anxiously responded to with a small nod. He listened to the angel's words, understanding those emotions of desiring closeness. A deep breath was sucked into Desmond's lungs as he hesitantly stepped closer.
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"H-how about a compromise? I... I will sit beside the bed and hold your hand," Desmond offered quietly.
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A quiver entered his body, however, Desmond wanted to assist in making Zachary comfortable. Hesitantly, the nephilim moved closer, praying he could assist his crush without panicking severely.
Fear, a malicious and peculiar emotion. Intimacy was a terrifying concept for Desmond to experience after his ex-boyfriend tore his heart out and stomped on it. There was pain from that, emotional scars still inspiring his negative actions and making it impossible for him to approach Zachary. He could fight against terrors without hesitation, defend himself, dodge and weave against creatures designed to spark fear and kill. He could handle Assembly soldiers should he enter a desperate situation, enough to avoid death, but occasionally not injury.
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Yet, he found himself quivering as though a phobia laid on the floor, freshly tumbled from the bed. Despite his positive emotions towards Zachary, the ginger-haired man failed to fight the beast inside, whispering in his ears. He loved the angelic man, his sweet-hearted actions, benevolence and generosity. Hearing Zachary's words broke Desmond's heart, his face dropping and heart aching as the message was taken incorrectly. He watched as the angel picked himself off the floor, crawling back into bed under the belief the ginger-haired nephilim did not love him.
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The scout looked down shamefully, heart beating fast from mixed emotions as tears surfaced in his eyes. Why could he not be better?
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"Zac... I... I do care... I just..." The words fell from his lips in a congested mumble. "I want to be with you... but I'm nervous... I'm sorry..."
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The nephilim refused to gaze upon his crush, believing himself to be worthless for his incapability. Tears softly rolled down his eyes followed by a choking gasp of a sob. He was clueless on what to do. He wanted to power through, but after everything that happened, he found it difficult... The suggestive nature of his discovery worsened his anxieties about love, about being intimate only to find himself abandoned again... People he loved left him plenty... The ginger-haired man lifted a sleeve to his eyes, attempting to wipe the tears.
There sat the man who, unknowingly, held the nephilim’s heart. The confession of emotions delicate and fragile was avoided, the pains of a previous love interest still an affliction on Desmond’s heart. Recovery, slow in progress, a force that, so far, never promised completion in the mental healing process. People stated one was unprepared for a relationship when the scars of the previous remained open, and Desmond’s did. Motionless, he stood at the door frame, watching Zachary, heart rate higher than its usual pacing. The man was stripped down originally but fortunately covered his private section with his boxers.
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Anxiously, Desmond watched Zachary, arms crossing as he observed him. The angel appeared happy about his presence, alas, the ginger-haired nephilim held mixed feelings. The whispered words were greeted with a fragile smile accompanied by silence. Cluelessness was his affliction and fear a side effect, leaving Desmond quiet and uncertain. After the things he saw and accomplished, the suffocating awkwardness could not be halted. He worried the situation would worsen because of their previous interactions… Zachary was unconscious, nude and needed to be cleansed of the germs covering his skin.
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Ease transcended over Desmond when Zachary observed him lean down to rest, alas, it would shortly be shattered as the man claimed loneliness. He listened to the angel's words, respiration turning rapid as he heard Zachary's wishes. Upon the mention of moving over, Desmond quivered until he felt the pain of a fall.
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"Z-zac!" The nephilim hesitantly moved forward, too frightened to get close.
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Awkwardly, he paused, a frown creasing his lips as he looked at the angel.
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"I can't," he mumbled, still shaking. "I'm nervous, Zac."
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The final words escaped his lips in a whimper. The nephilim crossed his arms, eyes glancing away as he mentioned his anxiety about the situation. It was a miracle he handled it throughout a frightful horde, but now? He knew more about Zachary's body, things he wished to not learn. His fingers dug into the fabric, his head down with uncertainty. Ashamed by inability, he did not know what to do.
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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.
