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,accentborder accenttext] i escaped the traitors once...
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[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] but they hunt for me.
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searching to finish what they started.
[attr=class,bulk] The art of conversation was a wondrous concept for an informant, however, the green-haired man wished to kick everything off slowly. A chance always remained that the chosen target had nothing to offer him, thus, he would at least enjoy himself with a riveting, enjoyable partner. A stranger could provide a conversation that could go into many possible directions. The green-haired boogeyman could become bored to death and gain absolutely nothing. Zero intrigue or information while engaging with a drab, average man was a looming threat.
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The chuckle escaping the stranger's lips suggested a light-hearted personality. A positive sign for the green-haired man, prompting a gentle grin to play across his lips. A quiet laugh escaped his lips, subtle and bubbled from his conversation partner's light-hearted nature. The green-haired man leaned back in his chair, listening to the short answer provided by the dark-haired man. The boogeyman was not surprised by the stranger's answer. Lorsette was a sprawling city with many locations and hidden nooks inside, missing a single person was easy.
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Naturally, the returned inquiry arrived and the former bandit shook his head. He originated from overseas, and the green-haired man was willing to share the fact; it was easier than feigning the position of a long-term local.
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"I come from somewhere overseas, but I've been here long enough to pretty much be from around here," the green-haired man answered with a chuckle. "I have learned the area pretty well, but I don't think I can out-do a local. Or at least one that's been here a while."
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Through the requirements of information gathering, Roy knew his way around Lorsette alongside a few key players for the TRS. Alas, locals frequently knew the close-to-the-chest secrets of the city as opposed to his outsider glance in. While Lorsette was a long-term escape from the traitors who hunted him, the Assembly informant was always learning a few new things here and there.
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"What's your name anyways, Mr. Local?" He asked, chuckling at the foolish and perhaps alcohol-fueled 'joke'. "Mine's Roy if you want it."
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The surname was kept hidden in his sleeve for his personal safety. The former bandit always worried about people hunting him down and causing him fatal troubles. The unspoken surname would not bring warning bells, fortunately, allowing for the green-haired man to skate by on merely providing his first. He leaned back, fingers rubbing against the cold, condensation-covered glass. The water clung to his fingers, rolling over and tickling his flesh.
[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] i escaped the traitors once...
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[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] but they hunt for me.
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searching to finish what they started.
[attr=class,bulk] Cold tingled around Roy's fingers as his violet remained locked on the stranger. The chilling reminder of his drink prompted the informant's fingers to subtly twitch across the smooth surface. Droplets of water clung to his fingers, running over them as he resisted a quick swig in favour of attentiveness. The confident smile remained across his face, powerful and prepared to weather any conversation brought upon him. The Assembly informant spent plenty of days around the depraved and cruel due to his occupational requirements.
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The Assembly of Phantoms was brimming with criminals, each appearing more maddened than the previous. From the cruelness of those who used the opportunity to carry out sick obsessions to others who remained cold, calculated and careless, Roy believed he witnessed it all. After bygone days as a bandit and the recent ones as an informant, he was not unfamiliar with the criminal world. As the stranger spoke, a chuckle rose from Roy's throat. The noise was light-hearted and a response to the teasing jab accomplished by the drinking buddy he discovered.
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"Yeah, I guess I did invite myself to the table," the green-haired man responded. "As for my drink, I decided to try the specials of the day. Lemonade and hard liquor, it seemed like a good mixture for summer."
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Punctuating the sentence about his drink, Roy ferried the alcoholic beverage to his lips. The informant took a tamed sip. While his alcohol tolerance would allow for a heftier intake, the informant preferred pacing himself. There was work he wanted to carry out, therefore, he desired to slip into merely a light buzz.
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"Are you from around here? I don't think I've met you yet, but Lorsette is pretty big so I wouldn't doubt missing someone," he asked.
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The inquiry was a simple one, designed to allow Roy to enter the door without asking extreme amounts from his company. The stranger's placement in the world allowed for the assessment of usage in what could be received. The summer months were littered with tourists and after years of operating in the Assembly, Roy was plenty aware of the circumstance.
[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] i escaped the traitors once...
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[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] but they hunt for me.
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searching to finish what they started.
[attr=class,bulk] The violet eyes of the informant calculatedly wandered past the faces of his fellow bar patrons. An observant glint served them as he scrutinized the people around him. Millions of thoughts ran through the boogeyman related to the gathering of information or enjoyment of an evening. Through the dozens of faces, a single individual stood out similar to a beacon. Stationed in the corner was a man who sat by his lonesome. A figure seeming dark, brooding and available for a drinking buddy to start chatting them up.
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Confidently, Roy strode forward with a straightened posture and a lip-tight grin stretching across his face. A lonelier figure suggested the potential of somebody searching for a confidant. The opportunity to transform into a listening ear allowed for the chance to gather valuable intel. The Assembly informant worked around the clock, for the call of information arrived at periodic instances. Thus, despite the time being considered off hours, Roy possessed no qualms in attempting to use his charms to his advantage.
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The boogeyman placed his glass onto the table and flashed the dark-haired occupant with a friendly smirk. His violet eyes ran over the man's frame, noting the stunning golden eyes that contrasted the dark locks of hair from the man's head. Accompanying the stranger's appearance was the vibe almost similar to a stereotypical bad boy with their boots kicked up, leather jacket and black jeans.
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"Hey, you look like you could use a little company," the boogeyman opened, sliding into the booth without hesitation. "So, whatcha drinking?"
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Operating under an assumed belief, Roy zeroed in on the opportunity to kick off a conversation with a mutually enjoyed pastime, drinking. He wished to open the gates before considering prying in on anything beyond the realms of simplistic and surface-level. The occupation of an informant involved building a realm of comfort to exchange information between one another without the hindrance of constant anxiety and paranoia. Once fully slid into the booth, Roy leaned his back against the booth's rest. His easement with the circumstance was evident as he handled placing himself into another person's sights.
[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] i escaped the traitors once...
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[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] but they hunt for me.
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searching to finish what they started.
[attr=class,bulk] Alcohol was the loosener of lips and creator of impaired thinking. Similar to a potion, it smoothly eased the tensions of many and provided opportunities for smoothly spoken conversations. As day unwinded into the night, people inevitably fled to the bars to partake in the sipping of drinks until buzz or intoxication. A blissful social scene where people regularly conversed which included the unlikely individuals. The circumstance warranted the slipping of secrets through impaired lips as they took another sip of the toxic beverage.
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Friday night bar trips transformed into a regular occurrence for Roy. The escapism from long work weeks was welcomed and additionally, the occasional slips allowed for the gathering of new information. The location was spotty for gaining information at times, however, useful in the starting of connections. Influenced by the concoction in their hand, many dropped their guards and allowed others closer. Thus, in the wondrous warmth of a summer's eve, the boogeyman pushed through the glass double doors of the Golden Crown.
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The manner the green-haired man entered the bar suggested familiarity. Every stepped was confidently measured as he weaved around small groups of chatting individuals. As a frequent patron of the Golden Crown, nobody batted a concerned eye at the green-haired man. Rather, his bright charming smile occasionally gained the return of one from wondering eyes. Through hard work, the Assembly informant forged an identity consistent with friendliness and sociability. The requirement of gathering information hinged on making himself an approachable individual.
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When comfortable, people became willing to divulge details they kept hidden beneath their sleeves. The mental mind games were a necessity to gather the thing he was hired to find. Trickery was a concept Roy was raised in. Taken in by bandits before he could speak many years ago, the green-haired man familiarized himself with fake images and a charming exterior. Everything was strategically added beneath his belt of tricks to facilitate trust and conversation without hindrance from awkwardness or social inability.
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Nonetheless, Roy was equally as capable in sneaking around and observing happenings to gather the intel he required. Stealth was a magnificent tool, however, useless without directions to where the information could be discovered. A confirmed destination could yield the reason to access his stealthier capabilities, making the bar visit worthwhile. If he discovered a name-dropped location, he would survey the situation and ponder if it was worth being brought forward. Before him was the thick bar counter with two bartenders working behind it.
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Their eyes appeared attentive and awake, however, mingling signs of an itch to leave played in their countenances. Grins that failed to infiltrate their eyes alongside a seeming longing to escape. The tall man approached the counter with a broad grin, evidently ignoring their expressions. Few wished to work Friday evenings, making their expressions understandable.
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"Can I get a vodka lemonade, please? Thanks," the green-haired man requested.
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A drink brimming with summer spirit was among the specials of the evening. The simple order was merely the informant's method of moving with the flow. He waited a few moments before hearing the clinking of ice against a cup. Smoothly, his hand grasped the chilled exterior of the glass. Condensation rolled down his fingers and given summer's hot days, the sensation was welcomed. The green-haired man strode through the fray with his drink, his violet eyes analyzing the area around him. Inside his head gears churned, wondering who he should chat up for the evening.
[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] i escaped the traitors once...
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[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] but they hunt for me.
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searching to finish what they started.
[attr=class,bulk] A welcomed and comfortable air drifted between the green-haired man and his blind date for the evening. The young man proved a marvellous supper partner, or at least, talkative and inexperienced enough to generate interest. Never had the blue-haired adult sipped an alcoholic beverage until Roy's intervention. Was this making him a bad influence? Maybe. Did he care? Not at all. if anything, he thought the experience would be valuable for Harvey. He was in college, meaning there would be a few crazed partiers hoping to whisk him away into their scene.
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At least, those were the few facts Roy gathered about the expectations some people placed on college students. He never attended, therefore, there was no thorough evaluation locked inside his mind. Another sip of wine was taken, bringing the class to half its original capacity. He drank his wine slow, likely from not requiring to consume alcohol. The sheer mentioning of shots lit up Roy's violet hues. That would be an amazing way to kick-off bar night once the date arrived for such a glorious splendour.
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"Shots sound good," he agreed.
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An inquiry about his favoured beverages reached the man's ears. A charmer's smile crawled across his thin lips as amusement danced inside his eyes.
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"I like those fruity drinks usually," he answered before laughing softly. "And when you try some, you have to tell me your favourite."
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It seemed a terrific agreement, the type he was determined to make. Furthermore, it promoted the idea of them trying a few drinks and possibly getting hammered.
[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] i escaped the traitors once...
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[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] but they hunt for me.
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searching to finish what they started.
[attr=class,bulk] Casually, Roy delicately lifted the elegant wine glass to his lips to enjoy another sip of the bitter concoction. The man's violet eyes observed Harvey as the man proved to be fancying the food served to him. A playful smile danced across Roy's lips as he slowly leaned back, regarding his date with an expression void of judgement. He never knew the ravenous hunger that arrived with proper food consumption, but whenever Roy hungered he gleefully began frightening people. An illusion of a spider there or a sudden presence here, he fed on it all.
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Arrangements proceeded for future interactions with Harvey, an easy accomplishment given the man's recent discovery of enjoying alcohol. The option of when was placed into Roy's hands, much to his surprise. Nonetheless, he kept his astonishment hidden beneath a cool facade while deciphering if his initial reading of Harvey was incorrect. In some instances, the blue-haired man came off as desperate, but regularly an individual searching for the affections of another individual was hasty to create plans. It was an odd scenario, alas, not one Roy would verbally question.
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"I will let you know through text," he informed as numbers were exchanged. "Although I warn, I like the hard liquor."
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A chuckle punctuated Roy's words as he mentioned his preference for hard liquor. The numbers were smoothly exchanged for easy messaging. Through Roy completing the exchange, his date for the evening joyously consumed his lasagna, only ceasing to take his phone back and give thanks. In response, the green-haired man nodded at Harvey.
[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] i escaped the traitors once...
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[attr=class,accentborder accenttext] but they hunt for me.
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searching to finish what they started.
[attr=class,bulk] Everything was progressing smoothly in Roy’s books. It appeared Harvey was showing an attachment based on the words and plans already being arranged. Perfection, it demonstrated itself here and assured the boogeyman of the rewards laid in his future. Although, he hoped his date held no plans of finding someone to settle down with. Through the years, the green-haired man failed to settle down with anybody. He was enthralled in the world of meaningless flings and the spice of deception from his informant occupation.
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For years it infatuated him, a majority of desperate souls unable to break those bonds. After his betrayal, it became his way, the method to earn a living while implementing skills he favoured. Survival was important and Roy adapted by discovering these deceptive methods and being unsettled by the chains of a relationship. His agreement to the second date agreement appeared to satisfy his young date. Already he requested arrangements for their enjoyable eve at a bar to sample a variety of alcoholic beverages.
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"Well, around Lorsette the Golden Crown is popular, so how about it?"
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The suggestion was soaked in honey as it purred from Roy's lips. He wanted his date to feel welcomed to the idea of a follow-up date before considering anything lustful with the young man. Friends with benefits, it was the preferred relationship Roy sought. He watched Harvey consume the lasagna without bother to the appetite, rather, he took a light sip of wine. The taste was admired, the bitterness mingling in with the wondrous fruity sweetness, captivating. Although, his mind abandoned thoughts of taste when Harvey mentioned getting his phone number. The boogeyman smiled at him, taking the phone.
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"Certainly," he answered while bringing out his phone.
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Through his phone, he scrolled until finding his number. Afterwards, he began adding the contact to Harvey's phone with a quick-paced tap of his thumbs. When completed, he texted himself, reciprocating the action. Once finished, he handed the blue-haired man his phone back, please to have his number.
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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.
