Welcome to The Duality of Man, an original animanga role-play that features numerous supernatural creatures. Unfortunately, these various species have distanced themselves because of the war that occurred thousands of years ago, plaguing some with eyes that only see their dualism. While others meddle themself with their differences, two groups fight, each attempting to eliminate the other in for their definition of worldly peace. These two groups of the Terror Response Syndicate (TRS) and the Assembly of Phantoms (AP). With individuals fighting merely over their differences, it brings uncertainty to the outcome of this war.
We happily accept all role-players as long as they obey the rules and are capable of meeting our word count of 50. This does include those who are unfamiliar with this style of role-playing. The staff of The Duality of Man are willing to happily help those who are new to the role-playing world so they feel comfortable on site. Feel free to message the staff if you need help, they can be found here or in the site Discord and will gladly answer questions alongside calm concerns. If you have any suggestions we would love to hear them; guests may use the support board as a suggestion area as well. Should you decide to join, may I say welcome to the site and we all hope you enjoy your time here.
Yours Truely,
The Staff
season
Summer 2024
Heat has broken through into a glorious summer. The snow has entirely dried through the spring, leaving to the brilliance of the warmer months. Terror activity has risen as people are brought out of their homes, leaving the TRS in a position of consistent work. Each are attempting to maintain victory in the endless struggle for power.
Since the wonderful members of TDOM enjoy the site enough to play around on it, this thread is to assist with the site's tidying! Functionality is important and we want to make the site functional even if its activity will be minimal at best!
[attr="class","ren"]HEROES MUST MARCH ON, THUS I MARCH!
[attr="class","peytonspeech"]Blindsided by the expectations of honour and molded by insistent requirements, Peyton transformed into a man of duty. Instilled in his birth was an understanding of his future expectations forged by the fires of nobility. Similar to his father, the blond male's path led him to become a soldier of their kingdom. In his youth, the notions of chivalry were preached at a constant and it exhibited itself in his reactions. His brain was hardwired to be a fighter, a man following the rules of chivalry and determined to fight for his country.
Alas, those enforced values allowed for other things to be placed on the backburner. Throughout his fatherhood, Peyton prided himself as a soldier, his service was a shining example of his capabilities and heroism. His blindness to everything else was obvious when he heard his daughter snap at him. The blond man's eyes furrowed, his brown hues locking onto his daughter. The worry crept into his expression at the words she stated. Unfortunately, the duties for his country never ended alongside those pledged to his family.
The man sighed gently, his arm reaching back to scratch the back of his head. Heavy were the duties of a father and a warrior.
"Don't worry about it," he murmured as he rose from his seat. "I will be home for a few days yet, how about we do some things together?"
The father was hoping he could provide something to make his daughter feel better. A gentle sigh breathed through his lips as the frown settled on his face. There were persistent threats against the blond's life because of his position, it was inevitable. His daughter had every right to despise the concept and he could easily comprehend the reasoning behind it. Nonetheless, Peyton was determined to return to his family no matter the circumstance or difficulty. He was a soldier by duty, but a father by blood.
"I'll do my best to not take any unnecessary risks, I promise. I don't plan on leaving you and everyone else easily, Haley," his voice was soft with a reassuring cadence.
Wounds on a battlefield were to be expected, however, Peyton knew he could avoid becoming morbidly injured should he show caution. Alas, he was bound to his duties as a soldier, a man suffocated in notions of chivalry and honour he believed he could never break.
[attr="class","ren"]HEROES MUST MARCH ON, THUS I MARCH!
[attr="class","peytonspeech"]Thoughts of his holding haunted him. The twisted images of people barely visible between the iron bars as guards marched down the stone hallways. The exchange of murmured words as others decided the fate of those locked away in the cells. Trapped without an option, stuck between the bars and frightened of the world he was introduced for. However, Peyton was always considered a fighter from the moment he was trained. A man focused on the ideals of chivalry and heroics as taught by the Hayes family through the years.
Nonetheless, Peyton was determined to discuss the topic despite his personal feelings. After everything that happened to the cavalier, the father, his children deserved an explanation when they requested one. The circumstance dragged upon everybody because of the connections in his family. Despite wishing to remain humble, the truth was Peyton was considered a puzzle piece inside the lives of his family. Without him, the picture would not be completed. A single piece missing, perhaps crucial or not, but absent.
The soft 'oh' that slipped through his daughter's lips resulted in Peyton's eyes peeling off. He was uncertain if his answer was satisfactory to Haley, it was difficult to confirm. People desired different outcomes or comforts, but honesty was the truth required. Though the following inquiry brought his eyes back to Haley, the brown hues taken on sorrowed darkness. A request to leave the battlefield was difficult to listen to... His eyes drifted again as he turned to a moment of silence.
"It's not..." He murmured before taking a deep breath. "But, my place is the battlefield, Haley... It's my duty to the country."
A man built to fight in battles, Peyton was somebody who fixated on defending those around him. He never considered himself anything else, but a soldier. He was a cavalier and an individual built for the realm of combat, it became what he stood for.
[attr="class","ren"]HEROES MUST MARCH ON, THUS I MARCH!
[attr="class","peytonspeech"]Waterfalls of whispers changed the rippling tides beyond his control. A man returned from the chilling, gruesome arena where fanfare roared about the spilling of red and claiming of lives. Never would his mind revert entirely to the way he originated. Through his years, he alleged seeing the underbelly of earth’s beast, alas, it was a falsehood. Cloaked in shadows, hiding in the pits of despair, there was always something worse. Nonetheless, the unfolding circumstances manifested a hesitance in bringing forth the disparages of recent happenings.
The blond understood it. Complete comprehension of the thoughts of others as worries of crossing the invisible line entered their minds. Nobody wanted to be the one who summoned the upset. Therefore, people avoided the topic and anything related to brief and connected to requirements of rest. Yet, the cavalier wondered if he was prepared for the discussions about everything that happened. From the blood spilling to the twisted methods of forced fighting, the circumstances were detestable and ultimately diabolical.
Though, the challenges of a discussion related to the incident surfaced in the instance. The timid begins spoke the volumes of the issue... It needed tackling inevitably... Directly, the situation affected him though it spread from the center point and rippled to affect others. Circling thoughts invaded his mind as Haley continued, mentioning the notion of death then later his return. His eyes wandered at her explanation, caught off-guard from the contents. The reason for his revelations and subsequent return a shroud in the darkness of his situation.
"Ah..." The sound breathed from his parted lips.
He paused a moment as an inhale was sucked deep into his lungs. He never expected it to resurface until his return to the guard where he would recount the stories of escape... and of her death. A cold, emptiness entered his stomach as his heart skipped a feared beat. However, he shoved everything down, his eyes returning to his blonde daughter.
"Well... I wanted to come home, as I would hope you know," the nobleman started. "You, your siblings, your mother and your grandfather are all here, Haley. Anywhere else pales. Additionally, that place could not continue operation, less we risk more of the guard and loyal soldiers to them, along with anyone else swept up in the crosshairs."
Purposefully unmentioned, the white-haired woman he lost was dropped from the tale. A life-long family friend he avoided mentioning for the pains inflicted on his heart, alas, another motivation. In his chair, the nobleman had started leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs. A hunched position unusual for the man who cared his status with notes of pride. A man who long sat or stood tall, though, thoughts of haunting days greeted with fighting, death and cruelness gripped with painful claws.
Exhibiting strength in the category of his abduction was difficult alongside his captivity. A slow exhale escaped his lungs accompanied by a punctuated barely audible sigh. His desires to comfort his daughter drove him to explain in spite of the freshness of the images engraved in his mind.
[attr="class","ren"]HEROES MUST MARCH ON, THUS I MARCH!
[attr="class","peytonspeech"]After days spent within the hellish environment, the features of his daughter's face was a welcomed view. The structure of her face framed by familiar blonde locks of hair twirling down from her head. The bright, green eyes peering from her well-remembered countenance an ever-enjoyable sight. These moments where seeing his daughter's face allowed Peyton to feel some easement. The faces of his family reminded him of his return home. That his surroundings were safe and the atmosphere a well-needed calmness.
Though the arrival of his daughter was met with an unexpected tone. While people rejoiced about his return to the kingdom, the circumstances of his leave were largely undiscussed. The traumatic connotations of a man kidnapped and forced into a fighting arena kept mouths silent. Therefore, Peyton was under the assumption his daughter was worried about the state of his mental health more than anything. Her starting words mentioned the need for a conversation; a method to avoid reading through the given papers.
If anything, Peyton craved a moment to pry his eyes away from the bouncy, cursive letters scralled on the parchment. While compared to others, his father's handwriting was clean and legible, a break from flowing pages of cursive was welcomed. Before a word of confirmation could be provided, his long-haired daughter spoke further on the subject. A stagger in confidence arrived with her words, uncertainty filling her mind based on the noticed body language. A gentle frown touched the nobleman's lips as he watched her.
Slowly, he stood from his seat, chair softly sliding across the floor from his movements. He approached her slow, a hand gently slipping behind her back to give a soft push into the room.
"It's not silly," he assured, his expression turning more neutral. "Come, Haley. You're always welcomed to speak. I think it is well overdue."
There was truth behind Haley's words and Peyton was well-aware. His return was greeted off the fanfare of horns as the people of his kingdom celebrated his return and the subsequent solving of the disappearances. Though, a proper conversation was avoided from the sensitive nature of his capture. Violence surrounded Peyton when he discovered himself stuck in the makeshift arena without a proper exit. Thus, discussions about it were spoken on the words of the hushed and behind his back. The woes deriving from his imprisonment were simply something people mythed heroics about, but never stated to the hero's face.
Quietly, he guided her towards the second chair inside the room. His hand hovering over her back after the initial push. Whether she seated herself or not would be Haley's choice as Peyton retreated from her side. Long strides guided him towards the wooden door, his hand slowly pushing it close. From the hinges a soft squeak reached his ears, denoting the lack of quality in the hinges. Once the door was secured, he left its stead, returning to his chair for the aforementioned conversation his daughter requested.
[attr="class","ren"]HEROES MUST MARCH ON, THUS I MARCH!
[attr="class","peytonspeech"]Devastation ended days ago, yet, the image stayed vividly in his head. Replayed in his head similar to a play was the instant Oliana turned the sword to herself. When she sacrificed herself for the sake of his livelihood. The emotions had coloured him, anger, upset and a critical need to not leave her sacrifice in vein. If asked about his escape from the shady, arena compound, he would attribute it all to the brave, white-haired heroine. Strong enough to look death in his soulless eyes and spare the life of her friend and comrade.
Yet, as Peyton Hayes sat atop the wooden chair, staring down the letters sent detailing any guard changes, his focus lingered elsewhere. Desires of a different outcome haunted his mind, one where Oliana survived and together they returned to their beloved kingdom. She was, ever painfully, the woman he came to hold those truthful feelings of romance for. Alas, each emotion was shut away in the name of a nobleman's honours and the expectations of his father. His place was beside a noblewoman, acting as her husband and siring children to bring about future generations.
Hardly a word read, he leaned back, a sigh breezing through his lips. His return to the kingdom had been a sufferable journey as he stumbled through. Once he reached the outer towns, he managed to become more equip through the kindness of those people, but nonetheless, it was long. Portions of his body still ached from the strenuous efforts and from the situation alone, he was placed on temporary leave from the king's side. A positive given the distracted state of his mind... While his return was welcomed and he grinned through seeing everyone again, the effects of the day would haunt him.
Thoughts were interrupted by a soft rapping of the study's threshold. A 'hmm' managed through his closed lips as he straightened in his chair. His eyes flitted over, face following to view the open door. The soft call of his second name from a familiar voice brought a gentle smile to his lips. From his chair, he could view the young woman, his daughter, peeking through the cracked open door. Her gorgeous blond locks and stunning green eyes a reminder of his wife and himself. A pleasant sight due to the familial love inside the household.
"Haley," he responded, gesturing for her to come in.
He abandoned all notions of reading through the letters. The distractions of his mind was already enough to keep him from making progress. It made conversing with Haley the ideal choice for the blond nobleman. A moment away from the sinister memories of his imprisonment and subsequent break out was welcomed. Rather, it was required given his recent return to his homeland. Reconnecting with family members was something he believed could softly shake him from his somber moods.
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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.
