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!
Socializing was never Dexter’s strong suit because of his introverted preference, thus the man felt awkward standing alongside his family while small talk smoothly manifested. Quietly, the young redhead slowly glanced around at the extravagantly dressed guests for the gala. A soft sigh escaped his lips, his gaze shortly returning to the pair of Matthews his grandmother planned to converse with. Despite being the son of a wealthy family, the bespectacled young man felt no sense of belonging among the guests of the Matthews' family gala. There was reliance on the social grace of his grandmother, the introverted young man uncertain if he could handle an extensive period of meagre small talk with a stranger. Exhaustion would eventually settle in, thus Dexter concerned himself with lasting throughout the rather extensive evening inside the manor. When the butler walked nearby to fetch the dishes, the redhead silently watched, his mind only vaguely remembering the natural occurrences of these fancier party affairs, although, everything felt foreign.
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The criminal actions Dexter accomplished oftentimes resulted in his parents being forced to hide their son in the safety of their room. A thief amidst a large grouping of wealthy individuals would ruin any social events, especially if somebody claimed he stole or decided to get physically violent because of the crimes he committed. As a result, the redheaded gifted found himself perplexed and nervous about the events of the evening. He was expected to make his family proud, yet, years of avoiding attendance would make achieving the notion difficult. A deep breath was taken, the bespectacled man watching the butler leave, his amber eyes shortly returning to Mrs. Matthews when an inquiry was asked involving his name. Narrowly, Dexter avoided a flinch, but slight uncertain breached his expression as concern flooded his mind. How could he defend himself in these conversations without his grandmother? He already found it difficult to keep a bored expression from his face, but small talk was not Dexter's strong suit.
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A thin, wide grin touched Colleen's face. "What a marvellous idea! Isn't Dexter?"
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As the words left her mouth, she tightly grabbed her grandson's arm, leading him a few steps forward. There was a slight pause as the redhead glanced at his grandmother briefly before his eyes flitted towards the Matthews.
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"Yes... I don't really know where I am going," Dexter mumbled, uncertain if his diction was suitable.
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An amused giggle escaped Colleen's lips as she gazed up at her grandson. Once it was decided, she gently released Dexter's arm before her wrinkled hands carefully smoothed his suit. When she completed banishing any wrinkles from the sleeve, she returned to her husband's side, expecting her grandson to remember the skills taught on proper etiquette. There was a brief smile on the youth's face, the redhead was unsure what may have manifested it, but he silently hoped everything would proceed smoothly. The first question involving a sweet dessert resulted in Dexter's eyes widening briefly, his affection for sweets being something strong.
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"Yes, I do," Dexter stated, trying to maintain a facade of professionalism.
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Every word Dexter stated was carefully chosen, the young man attempting to make his grandparents and uncle proud of him. Unfortunately, social events were never his forte, which created a hesitance before he pondered word choice prior to speaking; this would certainly because of a tiring evening for the introvert.
[attr="class","sorry_p_tagbox"]
[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]Brendon Redal [break] 562 Words
Sorrow was overwhelming, engulfing Dexter as he attempted to struggle from the teenager's grasp, the redhead's declined health making him vulnerable to being overpowered. The unexpected death accompanied by recent events where the family was crucial had resulted in the bespectacled man failing to maintain a proper diet. There were plenty of incidents where his grandparents were forced to motivate the redhead to eat despite how upset and unhungry he became. Grief could drive people to accomplish idiotic actions, the negative emotions blinding the individual from the proper path. Continuously, Dexter struggled against the stranger's grip, narrowly escaping the stranger's grip. Before the wealthy gifted could properly escape, the younger man managed to pick him, throwing him over his shoulder. Immediately, Dexter began squirming in the teen's grip, displeased by being picked up. The insensitive remark only resulted in the redhead squirming more, desiring release from the mysterious stranger who interrupted his moment of emotional weakness, alas, he could never muster the strength to manage an escape. Days of poor health decision were weighing heavily on him.
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"JUST LET ME GO! I AM OLD ENOUGH TO MAKE MY OWN CHOICES!" Dexter snapped back, sniffling slightly.
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There was a chilly sensation through Dexter's body, however, the young man proceeded in feebly struggling against his captor. The entire situation was uncomfortable, the stranger displaying no softness as he carried him towards a lonely cabin, going lengths to cause a jolt as he kicked the wooden door. Tears remained evident in the redhead's eyes, clinging to the reddened and puffy cheeks, freezing his bare face until they finally crossed through the threshold of the cabin. Through the blurry teardrops obscuring his sight, Dexter could narrowly, the tall log walls meshing in with the light greys of the floor. A faded fireplace captured a portion of the room, white sheets covering the furniture and suggesting the location was abandoned. Once inside, the stranger grumbled a few words before setting him down, Dexter's eyes narrowing as he sniffled a few more times. There were instances where people held no choices on whether or not those haunting upset emotions would arrive. The following comment earned a scowl from the redhead as he glanced away.
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"Shut up..." he mumbled back bitterly. "Sometimes people don't have a fucking choice."
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Afterwards, Dexter crossed his arms, still sniffling as he desperately attempted to wipe away the tears from his face. The words the blond stated were not appreciated, the redhead already disliking the mysterious individual who found him and dragged him down to a lone cabin. The bespectacled young man was sorrowful, unable to handle the burden of grief weighing heavily on his shoulders; he could have been a better son, could have worked harder instead of falling into a sinful business. Quietly, the gifted man sniffled, still wiping away tears as he turned away from the stranger, opting to stare out the window. The windows themselves were oddly tall from what Dexter was capable of seeing, the peculiar tipi-like shape resulting in the windows have a unique shape as well. Never had the redhead entered a building with this strange a design, although, he wished it was under better circumstances. As he quietly remained in the living room, a single question stayed in Dexter's mind, which was why did this random guy care remotely about his situation to drag him out of the cold?
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[ YUUUUUUS! I am so hyped to continue this!!! I just love how bad of terms they are starting off as. XD Dexter is clueless that Nicolas is actually protecting him. Either way, what happened in your post is likely since based on my timeline, this would be a bit after Dexter fainted, so Nicolas overpowering him would not take much effort. c: ]
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]@nicolas [break] 565 Words
Excruciatingly bright light filled the ballroom, easily widdling down Dexter's tolerance, a groan escaping his lips. Under a majority of circumstances, the young man would maintain a dark room, allowing his night vision to allow sight. There was time taken to adjust to intense lights, his uncle looping an arm with him. The firm grip forced the bespectacled young man to follow his uncle towards the mouth of the ballroom while his eyes adjusted. Eventually, Dexter found himself capable of properly seeing in the large, luminescent ballroom. There were endless lighting affixtures dangling from the ceiling while others were secured to the walls. A flinch graced Dexter's face as he glanced around the room, already aware he would struggle this evening. There were crowds of people dressed in formal clothing, each appearing to dress in their most beautiful wear, displaying their wealth openly through high-quality clothing and plenty of jewelry. Slowly, Dexter pulled away from his uncle, no longer requiring the assistance; nor did he necessarily desire it anymore. Finally, the redhead thoroughly glanced around the room, noticing the multiple chandeliers hanging above, shedding light across the large room.
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Bronze lighting affixtures were secured to the walls, pouring light over the tables pressed up against the walls. The mixture of beige with white accents covering the walls radiated the light, resulting in the room appearing brighter. The tables themselves were covered in pale green tablecloths, white napkins centred to the chairs. Bronze coloured rails made the chairs, a single cushion of a darker green for seats. Food was provided on tables, specifically desserts of varying types, although, it failed to capture Dexter's interest Meanwhile, people would converse in the centre or remaining near the tables. A soft sigh escaped Dexter's lips, the introvert already regretting obeying his guilt-tripping grandparents; if only he decided to remain at home. There was a smile on Colleen's as she glanced around, arm roped around her husband's. She appeared overzealous at the attendance, the elderly woman glancing over her shoulder, smiling broadly at her grandson despite his bored expression. Another sigh escaped Dexter's lips, a small frown touching his lips which resulted in Colleen's face turning serious. The evening was crucial to the Adams family, especially considering their business could flourish further.
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"Dexter, honey, at least pretend like you are going to enjoy yourself here... You need to make the family look good, so behave yourself, please?" She whispered the question.
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They paused at the threshold of the ballroom, Colleen knowing the situation required handling before they entered the crowded room. Inevitably, Dexter's family would be watching him closely, each thoroughly aware the young redhead was rusty after avoiding these social events. The untimely death of his parents left the bespectacled redhead unwilling to attend social gatherings, which under these circumstances would result in him becoming an unexpected guest. A soft sigh escaped his words, knowing there would be multiple people watching him through these events.
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"I will," he murmured quietly, trying to appear more attentive.
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A thin smile touched Colleen's face as she proceeded to pause outside the ballroom. "Excellent, and maybe if you are extra good, I will consider allowing you having your special friend over more often. Oh! Maybe next time he should come with us."
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Immediately, red painted over Dexter's cheeks as he glanced towards the wooden floor. There were palpitations in his heart from his grandmother's requirement to repeatedly and indirectly mention Maxi. Constantly, she would concern herself with his love life, although, there were innocent intentions; she merely wanted him to be happy.
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"Grandma," he mumbled in an embarrassed hiss.
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There was a round of quiet giggling from his family when they responded to the young man's embarrassment, Dexter pouting momentarily. Undoubtedly, Colleen would be gleefully telling her friends the incredible news before swearing them to secrecy. The young redhead knew his extroverted grandmother extremely well. They proceeded forward, Colleen and Wayne Adams entering first, resulting in them receiving a greeting. A broad smile touched Colleen's lips as she noticed the greeters, flitting between the woman and her young son.
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"Good evening, Mrs. Matthews and of course, Mr. Matthews," Colleen responded, providing the child with a professional greeting. "May I say, the decor is lovely this evening. It feels like years since we could attend."
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The former winter seasons lacked attendance considering the funeral arrangements after his parent's deaths. Afterwards, Dexter and his uncle followed, remaining close behind the elderly couple. There was mild anxiety entering the young redhead as they entered, the former criminal already knowing he would be facing scrutiny from his previous affiliations. For a few moments, the bespectacled young man kept his eyes adverted, waiting for the red to dissipate. A deep breath was taken, followed by a long exhale before Dexter directed his attention more thoroughly to Mrs. Matthews and the young boy. They were dressed formal, as expected, the young boy eating a piece of cake. There was a friendly glance from his grandmother who smiled, preparing to introduce the other family members she brought in tow.
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"I imagine you know my son, Richard," she stated, gesturing to Dexter's uncle (who provided a small nod as a greeting) before softly grabbing her grandson's arm. "And this is my grandson, Dexter."
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There was a pause before Dexter managed to sufficiently answer, "Good evening,"
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A nod of approval was provided by his grandmother before she directed her attention back to Mrs. Matthews. It was evident Colleen was unconcerned about the potential scrutiny she could receive for bringing her troublesome grandson to a social gathering; perhaps she wished to banish those misconceptions that he remained heavily affiliated with the Scarlet Ghosts. Chances were, his grandmother's plans were to re-introduce Dexter as the civilized son, a true shadow of his deceased parents who would manifest pride in the hearts of his family. Even the manner his grandmother dressed and styled him suggested a similarity to his father. Hair properly groomed back, classic black and white suit attire and professionally simple black framed glasses. Through the entire year after his parent's death, the young redhead refused to attend these social gatherings, his family allowing it in hopes to assist his mourning. Unfortunately, now became the time to enforce mandatory attendance to the occasional gala, his family desperately attempting to create a professional image for somebody who would eventually be forced to become head of their corporation.
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]Brendon Redal [break] 1,068 Words
Requirements for attending occasions involving the wealthy oftentimes resulted in tedious preparation in formal attire. These sparked the necessity to spend excessive amounts of time fixating on assuring every feature on the clothing was perfect. There were never any choices for Dexter, his grandparents and uncle insisting on absolute excellence whenever they could. The Adams family were not always perfectionists, but manifesting incredible impressions on their associates remained a constant concern. They were expected to be charmingly social, although, Dexter was already aware he remained unsuccessful in those regards. While his grandparents fidgetted with the features of the simple black and white tuxedo, small sections being adjusted. The collar around his neck was properly tightened, the redhead briefly flinching from his dislike of the insistence towards fixing his attire. Quickly, his grandmother tied the tie around his neck, a bright red, popping against the formal slate of white and black. There was smooth haste to the woman's hands as she worked on the tie before straightening the suit coat and properly tucking the tie. Quietly, Dexter submitted to his grandmother's adjustments, knowing it would be easier rather than struggling against her. Carefully, the woman looked over the white cuffs, making certain the cufflinks looked formal and proper before stepping back and releasing a long exhale.
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The elderly woman's eyes glanced over her grandson, a satisfied smile lighting her face as she provided a soft nod. Hair was well-kept and properly groomed, the suit was adjusted to provide a formal appeal and finally, the striped glasses were exchanged for simple black rimmed ones. The formal appearance of her grandson would merely remain for the gala they were attending, Colleen Adams already aware she was fortunate to persuade Dexter into dressing proper and attending in the first place; even then, it consisted entirely of begging and guilt tripping. The stubborn young man always insisted on skipping these social gatherings. While the grandparents had displayed the benevolence to allow further avoidance after the sudden demise of his parents, the time arrived for Dexter to show etiquette and charisma. Unfortunately, the introverted young man knew he lacked the social capability and interest to potentially manifest new connections through these instances. An extensive sigh escaped the bespectacled man's mouth as he glanced over his grandmother, finding her humble black and white dress which reached her ankles. Her faded red hair was tied back into a tight bun, revealing her wrinkled, albeit, well-maintained face features. A simple golden chain hung around her neck, a heart-shaped locket on the end while her plain wedding band wrapped around her finger.
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"Honestly, Dexter, I need to teach you how to prepare yourself, sweetie. I still had to help your grandpa with his own tie," she stated with a gentle chuckle.
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There was always a softness to her tone, pleasant and welcoming for the young redhead. Genuine care always graced her voice whenever she spoke to her family, making Colleen a delightful presence for Dexter and ultimately, his parental figure since he lost his parents.
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"Grandma, I do it myself and then you always insist it is a little off," Dexter responded with a sigh.
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A soft chuckle escaped Colleen's throat as she reached to grab her grandson's hands as he gazed at his beautiful face. Slowly, her gentle hand reached up to caress his cheek, a smile on her face.
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"You look, wonderful dear. Maybe you should send a picture to your writer friend sometime, okay?" She suggested, the compliment inevitable.
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The sheer mentioning of Maxi, despite the obscurity, resulted in a faint red hue breaching Dexter's cheeks. He found the blue-haired man rather cute, his shy personality proving to allow an understanding between them. Oddly, the emotions arrived quicker than expected after they met on a cold, February day last year. Only after a few days did Colleen discover her grandson's affection towards the author being obvious from the instant she saw them together. Another soft laugh escaped his grandmother's lips at the blush as she dropped to take only a single hand, leading her grandson out. There was a brief interaction between his grandparents before they met their uncle in the foyer. A smile breached the uncle's face, another uttering of a compliment, however, his uncle remained careful with his words. There were numerous instances where the uncle accidentally upset the young redhead, mostly by bringing up the family business. Once everybody was prepared, the family walked down to the limo parked at the front of the manor, all entering the back where the talk continued.
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Limo conversation consisted of information based around the family hosting the gala, the Matthews family. In the wilderness of Lorsette was where the estate was, the family discussing more the closer they got. There were statements of 4 families living in the household, all ranked, which was something Dexter's family detailed. While they spoke, the redhead merely half-listened, not completely interested in the conversation. Species were mentioned extensively, the name Fergus being brought up alongside statements he was the head of the estate, special because of his unique species compared to the others; which were nephilims, gifted, regular humans and mere shifters. There was a certain section of information which piqued Dexter's interest, which was the mentioning of familiars and the family's need for bonding. From Dexter's knowledge, the Adams family lacked any familiars, which meant the situation was strictly business association. A soft sigh escaped the redhead's lips at the notion of future conversation, his eyes gazing out at the wilderness, snow-covered fields and skeleton trees painting the picture of winter.
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Gradually, the limo closed in on the estate, driving through the country roads before finally reaching the bright beacon in the night. The driver parked, exiting the vehicle to open the door for the family, which was greeted with a pleasant thanks. Confidently, Dexter's grandparents lead the group, backs tall as they walked towards the front doors, his uncle promptly following their example for posture. Meanwhile, the redhead possessed a slight hunch forward as he awkwardly followed behind his family, entering the lavish household and entering the ballroom. There was a pause as his family glanced around, waiting for a greeting before slowly drifting into the crowd while Dexter wished he could have stayed home as he desired. These situations were tiring, the small talk is extremely boring to the young bespectacled man. This would certainly be a rough party to handle, and Dexter wished at every second he could escape the loud crowds.
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[ Just let me know if anything needs to be changed! c: ]
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]Brendon Redal [break] 1,085 Words
Handling Jean easily took a mental toll on the introvert, Dexter completely unprepared to handle his lusty former leader. There would always be difficulty in conversing with individuals who sparked endless amounts of frustration. Perhaps once he could have smoothly handled Jean, but since the horrible betrayal which resulted in him being caught by law enforcement, Dexter struggled to not become exhausted by his company. Somebody jammed the door, leaving him hopelessly trapped inside the establishment without a proper means of escape. While the redhead failed to be incredible in thievery, he knew his way around locks, even going lengths to learn how to become an excellent lock picker. Despite being high on the excitement of committing crimes, he oftentimes forced himself to obey the words of retreat rather than being uncooperative. Thus, Dexter believed the entire situation was an orchestrated sabotage. There were no other possibilities in the redhead’s mine considering how quickly the lock was jammed. Everybody of the Scarlet Ghosts has retreated ahead of him, the group being the select few aware of Dexter’s presence in the building. Nobody would linger around to jam the door’s lock without a reason, thus the redhead proceeded to adamantly believe Jean no longer desired his company.
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There was always a difference in treatment which Jean provided whenever it arrived at the bespectacled redhead. Ultimately, Dexter wondered if their dark-haired leader felt differently about him; his suspicions proven correct when he was left behind, a scapegoat for their plans. An annoyed glare was aimed towards Jean after the feisty comment, the redhead believing he possessed every right to be infuriated him.
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“SHUT UP!” He shouted back towards the dark-haired man.
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Vexation was evident in the redhead’s words as he snappily responded to Jean. If the siren was searching for those heated words, Dexter would easily supply because of the anger flowing through his veins. His amber eyes remained narrowed, an anger expression touching his face as he scowled at Jean. There were minor notes of pain sparked in the palms of his hands as he kept his fists clenched, but he refused to throw a punch. A breath was sucked into the depths of his lungs, cold from the effects of winter, but nonetheless held. For an instant, he closed his eyes and released before proceeding to step forward. The redhead would always hold a deep seething hatred for his former leader, but he refused to get worked up in front of Jean; his comments suggested him attempting to purposefully anger him. Unfortunately, there was little avail when the dark-haired man questioned his story about the door being jammed. The bespectacled man forced himself to keep going, believing Jean was playing dumb for the sake of maintaining information. As he proceeded forward, he heard the footsteps following as he crossed through the threshold of their old base.
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There was an eye roll as Jean decided to inform him about attempting to go back for him. For Dexter, it was impossible to believe, especially considering the jammed lock which got him arrested had to be accomplished by somebody amidst the gang. As the words proceeded, the redhead ceased moving, remaining silent as Jean continued to speak.
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"I AM TELLING YOU! IT WAS FUCKING JAMMED!" He insisted, despising Jean's reaction to his story. "SOMEONE JAMMED IT, AND CONSIDERING YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME, I THINK IT WAS YOU! YOU ALWAYS TREATED ME DIFFERENTLY! I WOULDN'T DOUBT IF I WAS JUST SOME SCAPEGOAT!"
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Words were spoken loudly, making it evident Dexter's temperament was rising from the conversation. Hatred fueled his words, accompanied by hurtful, bitter feelings of betrayal which manifested that unfortunate evening. There were no doubts in Dexter's mind that Jean had betrayed him, the redhead genuinely believing his former leader decided to be dishonest; all criminals became trained liars. There were callous remarks, the dark-haired man having the audacity to state he lacked skill.
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"I know how to pick a goddamn lock! YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT!" Dexter screamed at him. "SO SCREW YOU, JEAN! I AM DONE WITH YOUR BULLSHIT LIES, YOU FUCKING TRAITOR!"
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There was no more hesitation as Dexter stomped off, leaving the alleyways with intentions to return to his vehicle and head home. Exploring their former base proved to be a disastrously horrible idea considering the man he discovered inside the once pleasant and familiar walls. Hastily, the redhead exited the alleyway, fists angrily clench, body slouched forward and a bitter countenance; he wished he just stayed home.
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]@jean [break] 748 Words
Witnessing the behaviour his grandparents displayed towards Maxi was interesting to Dexter as he silently watched. While the redhead undoubtedly adored his grandparents, their eccentric nature towards others and his love life were borderline obnoxious. Frequently, they would become rather nosy, inquiring a plethora of times about potential crushes or boyfriends. Occasionally this reached lengths of them arranging dates with particular men, oftentimes those with bodybuilder type frames which were to Dexter’s disliking; he found them a turnoff. Meanwhile, his grandparents consistently attempted to organize these romantic situations in hopes Dexter would discover somebody he loved. The grandparents and his parents, when they lived, insisted the redhead would find an individual he would love. There were prayers that his grandparents would avoid frightening the adorable blue-haired man he enjoyed. After conversing with Maxi, the bespectacled man could easily notice the man he adored was rather bashful, appearing to have difficulties in social situations. These were difficult traits to handle considering Dexter's grandparents were the polar opposite of himself.
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The interaction was quietly observed, the redhead maintaining a neutral expression with mildly concerned undertones as he watched his grandparents. There were wide-eyes on the elderly couple as they stared at the valued author whose book enticed their interest consistently. Hours were poured into reading every word written by Maxi Belleclaire, the couple enthusiastically listening to the squeaked out words. They gleefully gushed, the woman's hands clasping together, being held against her chest with a broad grin stretching across her lips. As the blue-haired man proceeded to speak, the pair getting excited as the greeting returned and Maxi proved to be rather formally speaking. A high-pitch squeal escaped the grandmother's mouth, startling the young redhead who jumped slightly.
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"What a gentleman! I am Colleen Adams, and this," she gestured to the older man, "is my husband Wayne Adams.
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There was a grin on her lips as she explained the introduction. For a moment, her eyes flitted about, promptly settling on Dexter, their grandson. Immediately, the younger redhead straightened his back, attempting to appear vaguely profession as he awaited the inevitable. After a brief pause, his grandmother's fingers curled around his arm, giving a gentle tug to force Dexter slightly closer.
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"Ooooh! And this is our grandson as you likely know, Dexter!" She exclaimed cheerfully, voice filled to the brim with pride. "Honestly, Dexter, you should have called and allowed us to know you were speaking to Maxi Belleclaire!"
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A soft sigh escaped through Dexter's lips as his grandmother, Colleen, exhibited her usual over-excited nature; it never soothed despite her age. Their family was renown for these types of behaviours, the redhead is a surprising exception, especially because of his introverted attitude. Oftentimes, the bespectacled young man was known for his polar differences from the remainder of his family. There was an opportunity taken to fish his phone from his pocket, turning it on to discover the numerous texts, his amber eyes widening as a result.
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"Seriously?! There are hundreds of texts here!" Dexter stated in a sudden outburst.
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There was a faint blossoming of pink on his grandmother's cheeks, but she opted not to respond to her grandson. The grandmother wished to proceed with their conversation about answering all messages once they returned home. Since the unfortunate day their grandson fainted, the grandparents were fretful of it possibly occurring another time. They were merely worried family wishing excellent health for their dearest grandson.
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"Anyways," the grandfather began, walking forward a bit, "what book are you two reading?"
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There was a curious tone to the elderly man's voice, a more tamed smile and behaviour as he worked towards interacting with Maxi. When Dexter's grandmother released his arm, he placed his elbows on the table, propping his cheeks on his hands. A moment was taken to glance down at the book below, the redhead wishing they could have continued reading opposed to being interrupted by his grandparents.
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]@characternamehere [break] 653 Words
Being around Jean could always manage to leave Dexter fuming as a result, or anybody associated with the Scarlet Ghosts in complete honesty. There would be no forgetting the evening he was arrested by RCMP forces for breaking and entering and theft of several accounts from their beliefs he was associated with several other crimes. The call to leave arrived, the redhead had paused a moment to steal the final item while everybody else filtered out the door. The soft click of the door closing before the bespectacled turned, leisurely walking towards the door with the genuine belief he would escape, then sudden snap. There was a skip in his heart when he sprinted to the door, turning the handle desperately, but it refused to move. The lock was attempted which displayed a similar resistance. He remembered frantically knocking on the door, shouting for release in hopes somebody would hear or the gang would return, but there was merely silence. There were limited choices and Dexter attempted in each, praying to any gods listening that he could escape the locked up building, however, nothing was accomplished in time. Loud sirens blared as red and blue lights flashed until finally, the RCMP entered and cuffs snapped around his wrists.
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It resulted in Dexter being unable to trust the Scarlet Ghosts, the redhead completely cutting ties. They were fortunate he refused to snitch, considering it was solely for the bespectacled man's safety alongside the remainder of his family. Thus being around Jean, the leader of the group, resulted in a wave of immense anger considering there was a chance the dark-haired man gave the command despite his flirtatious attempts. There was always a vague difference to the attitude Jean displayed towards him, resulting in Dexter's belief about the possibility of the man demanding for the door to be jammed. The mention of not kissing him unless asked resulted in the redhead rolling his eyes in doubt. From what he knew about his former leader, he was extreme flirtatious and lustful of other people, which remained a frequent concern to Dexter; he never wanted to become a meagre fling. The following questions resulted in the redhead's amber's eyes glancing back, a pause to his step.
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"What do you think I want to do?" He stated snarkily at Jean. "And HOPEFULLY NOT YOU!"
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Afterwards, he slowly proceeded forward, eyes fixating onto the door ahead which he regretted entering. The redhead twisted the doorknob, hearing the question about hate while his blood boiled, but he ignored Jean. The door was cracked open, a squeal erupting from the hinges of the door. Naturally, he despised the dark-haired man since the betrayal, but the apology ceased his movements. The redhead's amber's eyes glanced towards his shoes, glaring, allowing the anger to boil after being provided an apology years after being left behind. When Jean spoke again, Dexter's gaze did not shift as he hastily spoke.
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"Then why was the door jammed?" The redhead snapped rudely. "As far as I am concerned, I was betrayed and left behind!"
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Immediately after finishing, Dexter walked through the threshold of the door, intending to leave instead of listening to Jean's obnoxious voice. Nothing could heal those rotten wounds of betrayal and the mental scars left on Dexter's mind. Trust became a difficult, valuable thing to provide because of the horrible occurrence that evening. There would be no forgiveness given, nor did Dexter possess plans to ever provide it.
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]@jean [break] 577 Words
There remained an adamant belief of Dexter's opinion paling in comparison to Maxi’s, especially considering the man appeared to be a literary genius. While the redhead was an avid reader, reflecting over various works of fiction were notions accomplished in English class. Anxiety plagued him, more evident than under normal circumstances; he still desired to impress Maxi. He enjoyed the attractive man's company despite their brief interaction. There was something addicting about receiving the blue-haired man's attention, Dexter wishing this day could last forever. He hoped there would be more visits in the future in relation to the book alongside Maxi enjoying the story. The redhead desired a close relationship with the short man, especially considering how adorably bashful the young man appeared to be. Throughout being in Maxi's company, Dexter found his heart skipping beats in blissful happiness from being provided with this opportunity. Nobody had previously sparked these feelings, Jean being the closest with his naughty offerings of pleasure; it failed to be true affection.
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While he awaited the superior judgement from Maxi, the bespectacled man kept his gaze locked with the cover of the book, analyzing the artwork. The seconds ticked back, and despite the brief silence from the word exchange, it felt like hours to Dexter until he heard the blue-haired man speak. The instant Maxi began speaking, Dexter's heart skipped a beat in delighted surprise; they both shared a similar interest in the unique styling of the book. They enjoyed the notion of their protagonist truthfully being the serial killer, the bad guy under most circumstances because of the different exploration into the unknown it provided. There were many people who would possess mixed feelings about the unique perspective, especially considering it opened the door to graphic imagery which brought a stomach-churning feeling. Alas, Dexter found it more admirable because of the excellent descriptors which reminded him of more gruesome horror movies.
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"It really is... I've always enjoyed these types of stories since you hardly ever see them. The conventional stuff gets talked about too much to enjoy it as much," Dexter explained further.
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Gradually, the noises were growing in volume, but Dexter ignored it in favour of listening to more of Maxi's opinions. There were nods of acknowledgement from the redhead as Maxi mentioned the graphic nature of the book. The scenes were impressively detailed in the violence, the horror fanatic finding it interesting as his thoughts went to the numerous graphic movies he viewed over the years. The notion of delving into the psychology of the killer sounded interesting, Dexter providing a small grin while his amber eyes slowly glanced towards Maxi, although, for only a brief moment.
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"It will be interesting since not many people explore those types of problems. I've always wanted to learn more about killers like this myself," Dexter stated briefly.
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The footsteps gradually increased in volume, suddenly moving swifter after he spoke. The redhead raised a brow, adjusting to glance back towards the shelves, waiting for the people wandering the shelves to come into view. Eventually, Dexter saw them, freezing as his expression switched into an awkward grin as an elderly couple gasped gleefully before rushing towards him. The old male held a phone tight in his hand while they approached. Immediately, the old woman wrapped her arms around the redhead, holding him tightly. She wore simple clothing of excellent make, similar could be said about the man's clothing. The man's hair was a faded grey, making his age evident by a mere glance while the woman possessed a slight hint of red to her fading colour. There was a single unique feature from the man, which was the pair of thin-rimmed glances of a black colour which framed his amber eyes.
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"OH MY LITTLE BOY!" The woman exclaimed, maintaining a tight grip. "I WAS SO WORRIED WHEN YOU STOPPED TEXTING!"
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A flinch became evident on Dexter's face as he squirmed from her vice grip, eventually gaining freedom to breathe. There was a soft sigh which left his slightly parted lips, but before he could answer, his grandmother's eyes latched onto a new target as an exaggerated gasp escaped her mouth.
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"OH MY GOODNESS!" She exclaimed again until the man softly touched her shoulder to inform her to be quiet. "You're the author of Beneath the Thread."
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Surprise graced Dexter's eyes for a moment as his grandparent's attention fixated on Maxi, eyes staring in giddily at the notion of meeting the author of their beloved book. They were clearly quite pleased as they stared with broad grins, waiting to hear Maxi speak; Dexter personally found it creepy. A concerned countenance touched the redhead's face as he watched his grandparents, praying they would not startle his bashful companion.
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]@characternamehere [break] 789 Words
There was once a time where Dexter could enjoy Jean's presence, he even went lengths to be tempted into the more lustful affairs the leader provided, however, he never agreed. The redhead's family consistently informed him there was somebody out there for everyone, and as cheesily they stated it, he decided to reserve himself for that special someone. Nowadays, he was overzealous he never agreed to the licentious interactions with the dark-haired man; the betrayal the bespectacled man faced continued to sting. Nowadays, he preferred the company the incredible blue-haired man he discovered in the library, finding him to be rather attractive and to frequently lurk in his thoughts. He cared about Maxi, especially considering their first interaction proved to be rather magical. The wooden floor creaked as Dexter turned away from Jean, planning to leave immediately after discovering his former leader; he could not tolerate the man's presence anymore. From the moment he opened the door, the redhead should have known this was a horrible and idiotic idea.
When Jean rushed him, Dexter attempted to speed up his steps, the welcoming back to base resulting in an eye roll. He should have stayed home and maybe texted his crush for a few hours or played some video games.
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"Leave me alone, Jean!" He snapped loudly.
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The redhead glanced back towards the siren, eyes narrowed into a glare when his former leader stated it was his "lucky" day. There was a pause in Dexter's steps to turn towards Jean, the gifted man crossing his arms while he glanced over the dark-haired man. Not much had changed about Jean, which was strangely bothersome considering the behaviour the man displayed when they were both apart of the Scarlet Ghosts.
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"Jean, you of all people should know you are the LAST person I wanted to see," he snapped back. "Also, I am not joining your stupid gang again!"
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While the current condition of the abandoned building suggested nobody remained in the Scarlet Ghosts, Dexter wanted to make certain the dark-haired knew he did not return to join again. The first time was disastrous and the redhead was somebody who would hold a grudge should he be provided with a reason; he considered betrayal an ample reason. When Jean suggested kissing and making up, the bespectacled man rolled his eyes before turning away to head back towards the door. Nothing appeared to have changed about their leader based on their current meeting, thus the introvert was not willing to engage in conversation. The next comment resulted in Dexter pausing as he glanced back to shoot a glare towards Jean.
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"I WOULD NEVER MISS YOU! I just heard a rumour you guys disbanded and wanted to check it out," Dexter rebuked.
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His arms had drifted to his sides when he returned to walking, the redhead's fists clenched tight. He could not tolerate Jean anymore, especially after being abandoned for the RCMP to capture and send to jail. If his parents had not been courteous enough to bail him out, he would have been locked in a cell for days.
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]@jean [break] 514 Words
There was a slight palpitation in Dexter's chest as he observed the main area. He could only hear the pounding of his heart as he searched the darkness. Spiders webs conquered the corners, suggesting the 8-legged creatures moved in afterwards. In the pause of silence, he could also listen to the slight whistle of the wind outside as he searched for any movement beyond where he stood. The redhead's breaths were extensive as he attempted to soothe himself in preparation for a possible fight. While he learned basic self-defence, Dexter was mediocre when it arrived at the skill. When using his darkness manipulation, he could use shields and his teleportation for escape, although, he prayed he would not be forced into such a situation. Teleporting home would result in exhaustion from the maneuver, which his grandparents would inevitably discover when he ceased answering their texts; they would only worry more. He kept darkness near to attack should he require defence or attack. Light poured from a hidden location as the individual in question created a momentary glare in Dexter's vision.
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There was a greeting which sounded familiar, Dexter watching where the light came from, his eyes adjusting to the brightness. Immediately, the redhead's eyes widened as he noticed THAT familiar face. Out of all the Scarlet Ghosts, the bespectacled man had wished to avoid the dark-haired leader if possible; he even planned to bail should he even hear his voice. He despised Jean Moren, especially after being abandoned and left for the police. There was a switch in attitude from seeing the siren, Dexter allowing the dark formation to dissipate.
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"OUT OF ALL THE FUCKING PEOPLE!" Dexter shouted, cursing from his anger.
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An unpleasant reunion between himself and Jean was unwarranted in the gifted man's opinion. There was hope the dark-haired man had decided to leave town and never returned, but this instance made it apparent he did not possess any luck. Instead of remaining in the main room, Dexter turned away and headed towards the door again; he refused to be in Jean's presence again. The Scarlet Ghosts had abandoned him, allowing him to be handcuffed and placed into the back of a police vehicle, and Dexter refused to forgive them for it. Perhaps he was stubborn, but after being betrayed, the redhead felt a wall was build between him and his former friends.
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]@jean [break] 395 Words
Their base had everything when it was still operational, including a gang of people who allegedly cared immensely about one another. After plenty of work, the abandoned building became a functional and excellent hideout for the criminals to accomplish their dastardly deeds. Safety was simply assured here despite the abandoned and rundown appearance of the building. Entering the abandoned hideout was similar to a horror movie, some of the lights down the distant hallway flickering in a sinister manner. Dust and dirt coated the interior, making it obvious the cleaning was neglecting, but the lack of recent footsteps was off-putting. Based on the condition the abandoned home was left in a state which suggested it was inhabited for a few years, which was strange considering the flickering lightbulb. Should the light had been left on before abandoned, it certainly would have lost power by now. There was a slight elevation of heart rate from merely entering the peculiar scene, although, Dexter enjoyed the notions of horror. He could always teleport home should he find himself in a deadly company.
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Considering the loudness of the door, Dexter assumed his presence was announced as a result. A breath was drawn in, before being released in an extensive exhale. The rapid nature of his heartbeat in the presence of fear was useless, especially should the other person have an excellent sense of hearing. The redhead proceeded forward slowly, attempting to keep his footsteps quiet and his mind sharp. While Dexter was definitely mediocre at best, he could still defend himself with the assistance of his shadow manipulation; the darkness of the house would assist in such notions. The slow progress was spent listening, the bespectacled man placing an ear against each door to monitor the sounds inside until being satisfied. As he proceeded through the abandoned building, he grew closer to where the light emitted from, the old meeting room where everybody would gather for plans. A single dim light while they looked over a blueprint he managed to get, and after a few moments of relaying the plan Dexter created himself, they would leave to perform their parts.
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They were successful under most occasions, alas, the betrayal Dexter became victim to resulted in him leaving. The sense of friendship built through being apart of the Scarlet Ghosts vanished in an instant, the redhead resenting his involvement with the group entirely. Cautiously, the bespectacled man entered the meeting room, even flicking the light off to increase the darkness, his night vision cutting through the darkness like a knife. The dust alongside some minor wall damages caused before they used the abandoned building was quickly detected, but from his position, he was unable to see anyone. There was a pause as Dexter moved further into the room, summoning darkness to his hand as he moved.
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"... Hello?" The redhead called.
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Constantly, his amber eyes glanced around the area, taking a vantage point where he could see both direction somebody could come from, but also where he could quickly retreat into the shadows. While the truck was important, Dexter knew his life was more valued; he just prayed he was not risking it.
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]@jean [break] 527 Words
Silence encompassed the roads as thoughts swirled through Dexter's heads, the man fixating on them. It was a crisp, winter night where the air remained surprisingly pleasant despite how far winter came. Light snow drifted down from the grey clouds as the redhead drove through the outskirts of Lorsette in the old truck his father drove. Smoke swirled up from the end of his cigarette, the bitter taste of nicotine playing across his lips. There was a hum of music, a random radio station merely playing to remove the absolute silence created by winter. Each passing minute was a treasure trove of sorrowful thoughts, the redhead occasionally releasing a sigh while he flicked full ash into the half-filled tray. An entire year passed since the abrupt death of his parents, another quiet holiday from the endless grief inside the Adams Manor. He had adjusted to his parent’s death, but nonetheless felt the hefty burden of grief upon his guilty shoulders; he could have been a better son. There were plenty of opportunities to chose the morally right path, but instead, he proceeded down a string of crimes.
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He was sarcastic, rude and downright unpleasant at times to his parents. There were times he wished returning to the past was plausible, he would have changed his attitude, persuaded his parents to remain at home in hopes of avoiding the torment of their death; they never deserved. The redhead's parents were gracious, loving and always willing to display affection despite his criminal attitude at the time. They were people attempting to raise their misbehaving son to become a better man instead of a miscreant behind thick iron bars; locked in a cold cell, afraid of the consequences which could arrive. A sorrowful sigh breached through Dexter's lips, a hand releasing the wheel to push up his glasses and flick more ashes into the tray. After getting arrested and feeling the intense impact of his parent's death, he was determined to become better, but something nagged him. Those days spent around a gang of criminals in their old hideout lingered in his mind, causing the redhead to wonder if they still remained in the outskirts of Lorsette.
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The chance to explore the abandoned building where they ritual gathered to pursue criminal activity was an excellent excuse to leave home prior to another conversation over his parent's company; he remained indecisive about his future. The frequent attempts by his uncle to involve him in the Adams' business were bothersome, disturbing the young man and meddling with his mourning time. Once near the abandoned building, Dexter parked the truck near the sidewalk, his eyes staring over the abandoned building, a former sanction for the Scarlet Ghosts. Did they perhaps still linger, or did they truly become ghosts? A soft sigh escaped his lips as the bespectacled man wished he could avoid returning to their old base. Only a few moments were spent to complete the cigarette before Dexter smothered it against the plastic tray, snuffing out the flame. Slowly, he opened the driver side door, glancing back a moment to gather his valuables alongside the precious key. There were plenty of thieves in the area, thus risking a chance to be stolen from was forbidden. After the doors were closed, the redhead locked the doors, keeping the windows up.
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In a slow shuffle, he hopped onto the sidewalk, rounding the corner into the nearby alleyway; the hidden entrance to their sanctuary. As steps proceeded, Dexter questioned his motivations for being here as he moved closer. Entering the alleyway brought notes of fear and nostalgia, although, the redhead guessed it was enjoyment for horror which returned him to the abandoned building. Despite it being their safety throughout their crimes, the building always possessed a creepy vibe to it, especially when deciding to enter alone. Furthermore, the lust of familiarity dragged him closer; he wanted a dose of something consistent or perhaps a reminder of why he should never return to crime. When he arrived at the old door, Dexter paused, staring at the threshold he crossed numerous nights after successful missions. Over a year ago, he decided to quit the criminal lifestyle, opting to improve himself and learn to become a decent person. While there were handfuls of people aware of his case and stating change was impossible, Dexter was determined to prove them wrong.
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His hand touched the cold doorknob, resulting in the redhead shivering a moment before finally twisting it. Tentatively, the door was pushed open, the rusty hinges squealing out a complaint which would be ignored. A few steps were taken inside, hesitance obvious in Dexter's movements as he entered the abandoned building and closed the ancient door behind him. The place was filled with memories, but ones the redhead wished to forget.
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]@jean [break] 800 Words
There was something about Maxi’s presence that caused a peculiar reaction in Dexter. While the redhead enjoyed the shy man’s company, he found it difficult to maintain the illusion of calmness. He found himself fidgety and in constant prayer, he would not mumble something profound; he wanted to avoid frightening Maxi away. Everything about the bashful man’s presence felt magical, thus Dexter refused to lose because of the nervousness plaguing his body. There were other emotions at play, each mingling together to create a confusing jumble of anxiety, excitement and joy; his emotions were an absolute mess. They would randomly switch between depending on what adorable action Maxi would do or whatever pathetic mumbling he would provide, although, the objective remained clear. The ultimate goal was to at least befriend this blue-haired beauty before solving the perplexing brew of emotions bothering his mental state. Breaths were inhaled, held, then slowly exhaled in a desperate attempt to appear tranquil.
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Silently, Dexter closed the book before glancing towards Maxi. A sheepish grin stretched across his lips as the redhead prepared to delve into their literary discussion; he wished he could remember all the terms from his English class. The bespectacled man feared his ignorance would bother the blue-haired man who displayed an adeptness in literary understanding. The redhead was attempted to still formulate a proper sentence in hopes of impressing the adorable stranger, although, was promptly surprised by Maxi beginning the opening conversation. Once the words began, Dexter's yellow eyes flitted towards him as he straightened and adjusted himself slightly towards Maxi. One of his arms rested on the table while the other idly stationed itself on his lap as he listened attentively to the bashful man. Relief was discovered when Maxi spoke, the lack of literary terms and in-depth thoughts of word composition soothing Dexter slightly. The conversation appeared to be geared towards the character set-up, albeit, with some interesting opinions over the norms authors would follow.
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"I guess we both just talk about what we think for now?" Dexter suggested, resting his cheek on his hand to gaze over the book. "This is the type of stuff I enjoy, honestly. Being shown this type of thinking patterns is frightening, which makes it interesting for somebody like me. There are rarely any books that attempt to explain the thoughts of the person committing the crime, so I'm actually pretty excited."
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The redhead felt his opinion was lacklustre on account of it being a mere explanation about his book preference. These were the types of books he attempted to search for, although, rarely seemed to discover them. They were hidden gems among a sea of treasures. The bespectacled man remained silent, waiting for Maxi to hopefully proceed the discussion in a specific direction, although, the sounds of footsteps began distracting him. A glance was taken towards the labyrinth of shelves as he listened to muffled voices and slow steps down the carpeted halls; who could that possibly be?
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]@characternamehere [break] 496 Words
There was something oddly intimidating about the capabilities Maxi displayed earlier in literary terms. While Dexter enjoyed his share of books, he rarely thoroughly imagined thought-processes or used the literary terms from high school English classes. Alas, the redhead was mesmerized by the stranger’s beauty and behaviour; he needed to accomplish this for a few more precious minutes of time. There was an addictive quality to Maxi’s presence that resulted in a thrilling sensation transcending over Dexter. He could hardly describe the gathering emotions generated from the blue-haired man; he simply had a wonderful vibe about him. Despite their initial interactions being rather bashful and awkward, Dexter found himself invested. As their plan for tackling the book was formulated, the redhead attempted to gather knowledge on various literary terms he managed to remember; he did not want Maxi thinking he was ignorant to literacy. When the blue-hair man began writing in the air, Dexter watched with a lifted brow. Magically, the book opened past the additional pages, the text of the first chapter being displayed across the off-white pages. Immediately, the redhead’s eyes widened in surprise at the incredible power Maxi used.
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Admittedly, Dexter was impressed despite the seemingly mundane practice; he had never witnessed a unique ability similar to what Maxi displayed. There were some thoughts taken towards the capabilities the blue-haired man’s ability could possess. Writing commanding words into the air to manipulate the environment around him was an interesting notion that stunned Dexter’s imagination.
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“Whoa…” He murmured out sub-consciously.
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The confirmation from Maxi was nearly missed as the redhead remained mystified by the gifted man’s capabilities; all he could do was merely control darkness. A simple twitch of shadows, walls and, if fortunate enough to possess the energy, a draining teleportation process. Once Dexter noticed his adorable companion’s fixation on the book, his eyes widened as he fumbled through the first pages to the first chapter. A faint tint of red touched his pale cheeks, the bespectacled man embarrassed by his focus on the mysterious magic of this attractive man. After a series of extensive breaths, the redhead settled in his seat to proceed with reading the book they had chosen. Thoroughly, Dexter glanced over the words, attempting to create a great comprehension of the book itself without much thought to the author’s intentions. The amount of description provided to the protagonist was interesting, the appearance of vivid explanation making the importance evident, or suggesting the possibility of certain required details in the character’s appearance. Minutes passed as Dexter proceeded through the book’s pages, eventually completing the assigned reading.
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When the chapter was finished, the redhead slowly closed his book and glanced towards his companion, surprise flaring as he realized Maxi was still reading. Considering the adept nature the blue-haired man displayed towards literature, Dexter had expected to finish reading last. Silently, the bespectacled introvert observed the bashful man, finding his fixation on the book oddly endearing. When Maxi noticed he was finished and anxiously responded, the redhead attempted to provide a reassuring grin; unfortunately, there was a slight fragility to the smile.
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“It’s fine… and if you are,” he responded quietly.
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After a few moments, the redhead’s eyes returned to the book to avoid staring for an extensive period of time. While Dexter wanted to keep Maxi comfortable, he wanted to sneak a lingering glance despite just glancing away. Everything about this blue-haired beauty was eye-catching, making it extremely difficult for him to avoid glancing his way; the redhead even accomplished it accidentally from the immense temptation. The adorable man thoroughly interested Dexter, which the bespectacled man found to be a rare occasion.
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]@characternamehere [break] 607 Words
Quietly, Dexter listened to the interesting concepts provided by the fellow gamer. The idea of people being able to assist the TRS in a video game format sounded fascinating, although, terrifying to the redhead. It would be similar to playing a well-done horror game considering his intense fear of terrors. Oftentimes, he would avoid any games that mentioned the frightening creatures because of the fear that manifested after the premature death of his parents. While some reacted heroically, dedicating their lives to assisting the TRS in hopes of others being spared of the unfortunate demise or desired vengeance to their fallen loved ones, Dexter instead turned to a faint cowardice. There were lessons on self-defence that his parents provided, but the bespectacled man still possessed little skill to his name. He could create shields or attacks with his darkness manipulation, he could never last for lengthy periods of time. As he listened to the man's musing, the redhead provided a shrug.
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"I don't know too much about item magic and I am gifted, so I am practically useless to test it," Dexter said in response. "How long have you been testing it anyways?"
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While Dexter doubted he would volunteer to assist, he remained curious about the mixture of technology and magic. The concept of allowing technology and magic to work in tandem sounded interesting, the redhead wondering how the functionality of it all worked. There was, unfortunately, no insight that Dexter could provide in hopes of assisting with making the concept work; all he could really do was attempt to understand it all.
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[attr="class","sorry_p_tagname"]Zephyr Wolfe[break] 263 Words
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The skin is created by Wolf of Adoxography and Gangnam Style. The thread and conversation remodels are by Kagney. The Strange Reality board list, Heal My Soul info center, I Remember Now mini profile and Electric Requiem profile remodel is made by Pharoah Leap. The Who's That Member member list remodel was made by Tictactoe. The Cbox.ws Shoutbox remodel was made by Trinity Blair. All templates used for claims, information sheets, applications, etc are credited to their owners; credits for these can be found in the threads the templates are use on. Images that are used on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners, however, they have been edited by Zac with a few being edited by Chibi Magician. The plot, rules and various other information pieces for The Duality of Man are written by Chibi Magician with the assistence of her co-admins, Finnegan and Dremulf, alongside other unlisted people who were kind enough to give their input. The TRS, AP and face claim were all created by Fleur for specifically the use of TDOM. All plugins used on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners. The templates my members use are credited to their maker, if you find a template that belongs to you, but is uncredited, please speak to Chibi Magician or the member themself. Characters created on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners and should not be used elsewhere without the creator's permission.
Special thanks for the members of TDOM who make suggestions to help make this site better. Even though we can not accept all suggestions, we immensely appreciate it. Thus, we give credit to any additions that you thought of and were later implimented by the staff, because we are glad you give us these excellent ideas.
