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","header"] THIS USER DOESN'T UNDERSTAND TEMPLATES
[attr="class","post"] "Here you are, ma'am." [break][break] "Cheers, man. Have a good one." [break][break] Nice weather for a walk. Not too chilly, no wind, a bit of morning sun. Early enough to hear the birds chirping, without so many of the roaring engines of the morning commute. A young girl in a large jacket greedily opened up one of the shawarma wraps she'd just purchased from an old Mediterranean food truck she'd heard about and took a bite. Succulent lamb juices filled her mouth, and she quickly cupped her free hand under her chin to catch the spill. After swallowing her first bite, she took a deep breath and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. It's been a while since I had a proper breakfast, she thought to herself, if this place were closer I'd come more often. Hefting her bag of groceries and taking another bite of her shawarma, she looked around to get her bearings. Sunrise... ocean... ...East. Food truck... ...Southwest? Something like that. She tried to spot her apartment building among the jungle of high-rises jutting out into the sky northward. She figured she'd try to reach the boardwalk, then at least she could get somewhere more familiar. [break][break] As Sinai wandered across yonder suburbia in perpetuum, her mind equally wandering, she startled slightly at the sound of a high-pitched whine. Turning on her heel, she looked down at a somewhat pathetic little dog staring up at her with pleading eyes. [break][break] She spent a moment staring at the creature. No collar. A stray? Its paw was raised, usually a sign of pain or injury. Maybe it accidentally got away from its owner and got hurt? As she studied it from her safe distance of ten paces or so, she noticed it panting heavily. It licked its chops. Sinai looked down at her hand full of shawarma, and suddenly felt a little guilty. No! Sinai's hunger growled at her, This shawarma is precious, delicious! It's ourssssss... She furrowed her brow in contemplation. She was still pretty hungry. C'mon, her sense of reason rebutted, it's just a little thing. It can have a bit. She looked from side to side, seeing no one was around. To the chagrin of her appetite, she cautiously lowered herself and carefully extracted a few slices of piping hot lamb from her wrap, holding them out in front of her. [break][break] "Hey there, little guy. You hungry? It's alright. You can have some."
Exploits of the Gourmet Stray[break] By Miss Kitty
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Storytime #2: Warming Up
[break] Anyone who knows anything about me is fully aware that I detest the cold. I wear heavy jackets in the summer. I have purchased multiple and numerous extra blankets just to cover the hardwood and linoleum floors of my apartment. I keep my gas stove on all day long to keep warm (I do not actually do this, you can stop sending me emails). All of this is to illustrate the atypicality of my decision to take a brisk, early morning walk into town on the coldest, snowiest day of the first winter I spent living in Lorsette. The snowfall was so thick I couldn't see to the other side of the street, and as I had yet to invest in a cell phone by which to navigate, I began wondering if I would ever find my way back home. In a daze, I walked through a small brick and cobblestone alleyway, turning onto the next street over and beginning to wonder how long I could survive if I were to cook my leather mittens. [break][break] Then: Sanctuary. [break][break] In the bleak blinding grey of snowy downtown, I stumbled upon a small café I'm sure, in hindsight, I must have passed several times before. In front, beneath a tasteful awning, stood a sign. One which promised salvation.
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[attr="class","post-img"] [break][break] An approximation of the placard in question. Graphic design is not my passion. [break][break]
Be not afraid, it said to me, for, behold, I bring good tidings of great joy. Needless to say, upon seeing this, I rushed in as quickly as possible, tracking an inch of snow in my path as I struggled to shut the door behind me. Contrary to the blinding snowfall and howling winds outside, the restaurant was warm in both climate and lighting. Wallpaper designed with antique maps of the world covered the back wall, and all the furniture was dark-stained wood. It was a small place, and for a moment I worried it might have been closed, since there was no one in sight. However, a mildly perplexed-looking fellow soon came to greet me. It was at this point I first learned the place was called the Plenty Mill Café. The fellow's name presently escapes me, something which I'm ashamed to say, as for the hour and a bit I stayed at that café, he was my best friend in the whole world. [break][break] Let's call him Devon for this story. [break][break] Despite the terrible weather and the early morning, Devon was energetic and superbly friendly. He was, so the story goes, one of the only people to show up to work because of the weather, and everyone was sure they wouldn't get any business that day. Devon, of course, was my de facto waiter. I, myself, was delighted to learn that the place I'd wandered into was a chocolate café (a delightful restaurant genre I dearly wish to see more of), where they serve all manner of waffles, crêpes, cakes, and sundaes, all paired with various and indulgent applications of chocolate. Dark, milk, and white chocolate; drizzled, shaved, melted, or otherwise; fondue; hot chocolate; milkshakes of abundant flavours; the list goes on. They also served the standard breakfast and brunch fare like omelettes, ham, sausages, you get the gist. While I was more than happy to indulge in a hearty breakfast of strawberry crêpes, cheesecake, and the finest mocha milkshake I've ever spent money on, you may have guessed that I was here on a mission: I wanted those churro donuts. It was at this moment that Devon went from a kindly waiter at a café impressed by my appetite, to a superhero. [break][break] You see, they had several options of toppings for their churro donuts. Chocolate and hazelnut, honey almond nougat, s'mores, stuff like that. But when I inquired with Devon as to what toppings were available, did he tell me all these options? Of course. However, he did not merely tell me this. No, he took a step further, going beyond the call of duty and rising above his station, daring to dream radiant dreams of most excellent customer service. It was a simple phrase, but one that changed my outlook on life: [break][break] "You know, it's not like we have to serve anyone else... if you just tell us anything you want on it, we'll make it for you." [break][break] I look back on this moment when I have to remind myself that good still exists out there in the world. [break][break] He said it with such a mischievous expression too, like he was roping me into a heist. I remember my bewilderment and excitement at the prospect. I got to, like, design my own churro donut? Like a secret menu item? The possibilities were endless, but I knew the offer had to be limited. Even if I came back and he remembered me, this was a rare opportunity born of exceptional circumstances, and I had to make it count. He gave me a few minutes to mull it over, which I appreciated, as I immediately began compiling possible flavour combinations, referencing every part of the menu for inspiration. In the end, I settled on two topping combinations. What were they? Well... I'm not going to tell you.
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[attr="class","post-img"] [break][break] The Google results for "mystery churro" are remarkably inconclusive.
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...Okay, I'll tell you one of them. It was dipped in matcha sauce, covered with strawberry slices, and drizzled with white chocolate sauce, and it was excellent. However, I'm serious about the second one, which I shall guard like a precious treasure. It was a masterpiece, and I don't want its secrets falling into the wrong hands. Speculate all you like, food theorists, I know you're out there. But I digress. [break][break] So, what's the point of this story? Well, I mostly just wanted to talk about a very good customer service experience I had, one which legitimately improved not just my meal, but my whole week. Is there an example to be taken in Devon's waitering? Sure, I guess. Is it about having the courage to ask for unconventional things in restaurants? I mean, that's a good skill to have; plenty of places will oblige strange requests if you're brave enough to ask. But as I've thought more about it, I realized that what really resonates with me about the whole experience is that it genuinely changed me. I had been living in Lorsette for about eight months when this happened, and I had barely seen any of the city. I was scared living in a new place, not knowing anyone, and having to find my way in a very unfamiliar situation. Like a lot of people, I was drifting through life without much of a direction, living paycheque to paycheque, cooped up in a tiny, barely furnished apartment. I don't know what possessed me to go out on that frigid morning, but it was the first time I'd really been able to open up, relax, and indulge myself in something really nice without feeling like a stranger in a strange land. Not to get sappy or anything, but that snowy morning at the Plenty Mill made Lorsette feel like home to me. I slowly started getting out more, talking to people, and making friends. I wormed my way into a reasonable job I don't dread getting up to go to. I... still live in that tiny apartment, but it's lively and decorated now! [break][break] I still go to the Plenty Mill every now and then, especially with a friend or two. There's nothing more fun than bringing someone who's never been and watching their face light up with excitement when they see the sort of stuff that's on the menu. I've never gotten another custom churro donut from there, nor has Devon ever been my waiter since that first morning. Some may find that particular fact disappointing, but I find it rather poetic. I like to think Devon remembers that day and thinks the same. [break][break] Anyone who knows anything about me is fully aware that I detest the cold. But sometimes, on cold, snowy, early winter mornings, I still get up early to go for a brisk walk. [break][break] Have a great week, everyone. [break][break]
Cheers!
[attr="class","shell-right"] ... [break][break] Miss Kitty is a private food blogger living in Lorsette, Newfoundland. [break][break] As she doesn't have kids, she wishes it were less awkward to ask for kids' menus at restaurants. She just wants the Dino Buddies chicken nuggets, guys, stop making it weird. [break][break] ...
Exploits of the Gourmet Stray[break] By Miss Kitty
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Query #6: She See Sushi
[break] Hello, all! [break][break] It's been a long week, but we're back to it. I'm taking another Query today, this one sent in by Maddie Lenton: [break][break]
[attr="class","question"] "I've been to a few sushi places in the city, but none of them have been very good. Any recommendations?"
[break] Frankly, I'm shocked the topic hasn't come up sooner. I love seafood, sushi especially! It's unfortunately true, however, that a lot of the places you'll find in Lorsette that serve it don't do it much justice. Before I start talking about specific places you can go for some damn fine fish, there are a couple things you can keep in mind when looking for a sushi joint:
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Sushi Tips [break] Look for specifically Japanese restaurants. Generic "Asian food" places, for the most part, don't tend to excel in any one cuisine, least of all something as niche as sushi. In general, also avoid common grocery store pre-packaged sushi. This isn't to say the stuff is terrible—in fact, there's some surprisingly tasty grocery store or gas station sushi out there! But even if you frequent an Asian supermarket, where it tends to be much better than elsewhere, the stuff you can buy in a restaurant is usually far leagues above.
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With that out of the way, let's start talking about the best sushi restaurants in Lorsette:
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For your money: Shokudo Bar
[break] If you're looking for a great deal on some tasty Japanese fare, I can't recommend the Shokudo Bar enough. Shokudo (食堂), from what I've read, roughly translates to cafeteria or dining hall, so... the cafeteria bar? Don't let the less-than-inspired name fool you though, this little place doesn't mess around when it comes to the food. They serve a bunch of different Japanese dishes, with some personal favourites including their veggie udon noodle soup and their fantastic charcoal-grilled mackerel. [break][break] Obviously, I can't leave out the main event: their sushi. Good news: it's great! The selection isn't as extensive as some other restaurants, but you won't hear me complaining if that just means the stuff they do serve is that much better. More good news: it's dirt cheap. Seriously, I went with a friend and we ordered a huge sushi platter, a bowl each of soup, a plate of tempura shrimp, and a couple glasses of an Adult Beverage. When we got our bill, we thought they'd miscalculated, because it came to less than $30 per person. So yeah, if you're in the mood to stuff yourself to the point of penitence on a budget, the Shokudo Bar is the place for you.
[break] If you have a bit more money to spend and desperately crave social contact, look no further than Sushiya Sushi. (You know this place has gotta be good because they have sushi in the name twice.) Now, opinions may differ on what makes for a "good" restaurant atmosphere, and I absolutely understand if this place isn't everyone's cup of tea. But you know what? I enjoyed the experience of being crowded around a big, square bar next to half a dozen equally confused strangers a lot more than I thought I would. The atmosphere was chaotic and exciting, and there were a lot of laughs to be had. [break][break] Now, the food: it's pretty good! I've definitely had better, but I enjoyed everything I ate. Friend karaage chicken? Can't go wrong! Steamed clams in sake sauce? Love it. I found out the hard way that their grilled cod is bone-in, but it was still tasty. My favourite part, though, was our sushi chef and server. His name was Genki, and he was my favourite. The bar surrounded him on all sides, and we got to see him make all our sushi (it was refreshing to see a chef washing their hands, rather than having to take their word for it). He was incredibly friendly, too! He kept reaching over the bar to point at things on the menu he thought I'd like, and I'm sure I got more than one item that wasn't even on the menu? ("You'll love this! I'll make it for you, just hold on!" He was great.) Now, despite there being a per-customer service charge, it's not all-you-can-eat, and you have to pay for everything, including a surcharge for anything you don't finish. It's a bit pricey as far as I'm concerned, but getting to know Genki over the course of my meal was an absolute treat.
[break] Now, what if you don't care for your wallet, and just want the best-tasting sushi in Lorsette, no matter the cost? Well, as happens so often on this blog, we must ourselves away to the hipster district downtown, where we find ourselves at the hallowed (and frankly bizarre) Octopus Garden, which I will most certainly be covering on its own in a future post. Seated at the corner of Foghorn and Chinatown, it is the perfect blend of modern surrealist hipster culture, a decidedly Asian eye for aesthetics, and one man's unhealthy obsession with the Beatles. Contrary to my advice above, the best sushi I've ever had in Lorsette does not come from a specifically Japanese restaurant, but was instead made by a guy called Dwayne while I jammed along to Ticket to Ride. This was where I spent my birthday last year, and to this day I can't tell how much of it was a fever dream I had after listening to Revolution Number 9 on loop for a couple hours. [break][break] This is one of those places where their party platters are meant to feed 20+ people, so obviously myself and a half-dozen friends pitched in to buy one and finished it ourselves, to the surprise and horror of our understandably distressed waitress. My friends and I consider it the best bad decision we ever made. (If you plan to do this, make sure to call ahead—their largest platters have a week-ahead minimum reservation.) I counted four different kinds of roe, five varieties of surf clam, and three different species of crab. There was eel cooked in various styles from across Japan, seasoned baby octopus (arranged on, you guessed it, a "garden" of seaweed), some shockingly tasty fermented fish, and more sushi rolls than I could be bothered to count. My favourites were the temari sushi balls, which were beautifully and delicately put together and brought out on one of those multi-tiered tea trays they use to hold their scones and little sandwiches in every British period drama you've ever watched. Each one had a different combination of toppings, and all together they looked like a pile of jewels. Delicious, delicious jewels. Suffice to say, I will absolutely be returning to this place to try everything else they have to offer... [break][break] ...as soon as my wallet allows.
There you have it, Maddie. I hope you get to try any or all of these places (if you go to Octopus Garden, can I come?), and I hope your experiences there will be as good as mine were. There are plenty of other places that do good sushi, these three are just the ones I felt deserved the spotlight this week. Sushi is an incredibly delicious and varied genre of cuisine, and you can absolutely tell when the people making it genuinely care about what they're doing. Have a great week everyone, and happy eating!
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Cheers!
[attr="class","shell-right"] ... [break][break] Miss Kitty is a private food blogger living in Lorsette, Newfoundland. [break][break] She enjoys spending too much of her pocket money on her endless quest to try all the best restaurants in the Lorsette area (and a few beyond). She also enjoys collecting trinkets, sewing, and cats. [break][break] ...
A real fortune-teller, she says. This was a clear attack on her honour as a seer! Sinai put a hand to her chest and scoffed.
"I'll have you know I do a fair bit of fortune-telling of my own around here. I think I've forged enough fates to earn that title."
In reality, she couldn't care less. Then again, she had to protect what little reputation she had in the industry. Not many people considered these old machines to be actually capable of any divination; Sinai's manager found the machine online and thought it would make for a dashing antique. It certainly had that eerie look peculiar to the mid-20th century. Sinai found it hard to look into the thing's eyes for too long, and shivered slightly.
"Besides, Old Crone's not... so bad. She doesn't need lunch breaks, at least."
As Sinai slapped the side of the machine, producing a hollow thwap, she caught a glimpse of Neviah's somewhat incredulous expression. She got the sense her new helper wasn't getting what she'd been expecting from this experience. ...What was she expecting from this experience? Yeah, she was hired help, she didn't have much choice, but that look on her face wasn't one of someone without expectations. All too late, Sinai realized Neviah was most likely the exact type of person she'd hoped she wouldn't be: someone who actually knew a damn thing about magic. Even expecting she might have had some magical ability, Sinai had hoped Neviah's relatively young age would've meant she was inexperienced enough not to know the difference! But it looked like Neviah was more mature than Sinai had given her credit for. Her shoulders drooped slightly as she immediately regretted what she said about being a fortune teller. She'd probably have to ask this kid to keep quiet about the shop just to save face.
Still, there was a job to do. With a sigh, Sinai wheeled out a small dolly from behind the crate and began positioning it beneath the unwieldy machine. She stepped on the back of the dolly and put all her weight onto the handle, clumsily tilting the machine up a few inches as she heaved it out of its crate. The machine leaned back until it was resting on Sinai's body, relatively steady. Sinai awkwardly turned her head to look over her shoulder at Neviah.
"Oof. Alright, this thing isn't too heavy, but it's pretty awkward to move around, so I'll need you to be my eyes. Could you make sure I have a clear path to where this old lady's going? A couple of the shelves near the front should have a big enough gap between them to fit her, shouldn't be hard to spot. I'll follow your lead."
Neviah. Sinai could have sworn she'd heard the name before, but then again, she'd heard about a lot of people during her work, and they were rarely of any consequence. She lifted the service counter's door and led Neviah into a small back area. "We've got a locker here for the employees, that's where I keep my stuff." She twisted the code into the combination lock and clicked it open. Inside was nothing more than a bulky jacket and a pair of leather boots. "Let me know if you need to get in there again."
As she waited for Neviah to put her things away, Sinai glanced towards the back loading entrance where they brought in their shipments. She chuckled slightly. "So, slight confession. I probably should've been more specific with my manager when I requested the extra aid, but the thing I need the help with is more of a, uh, manual labour thing. It shouldn't be too difficult, it's just safer as a two-man job, and I gotta follow protocol." She parted the back entrance curtain to reveal a large wooden crate about the size of a refrigerator. With a flourish, Sinai produced a small crowbar; carefully, she began removing the elastic cables holding the crate in place. She squeezed the crowbar in a gap on the front corner of the crate and pulled hard, until the entire face popped off with a loud crack. Inside the box, Neviah saw the wrinkled, scowling face of an old woman staring right at her.
...obviously not a real old lady, but realistic enough to cause a moment of panic nonetheless. The silicone-skinned 'woman' was garbed in an old-looking cowl and robes, and she sat in a wooden enclosure whose glass viewing portal was emblazoned with the legend OLD CRONE: The Prophetic Pythoness! In front of her was a small felt-lined table, with dyed spacers about the size of playing cards. It seemed to be an old-fashioned fortune-telling machine. "We apparently ordered this damn thing months ago, but the company shipping it had delays due to international import process regulations, or something to that effect, so we're way behind. Maybe it's cursed or something." She removed the last of the cables holding the box together and let its sides fall over, revealing the full unit in all its cheesy, vintage glory.
"I'd appreciate some help getting it set up, think you can handle it?"
Sinai looked the young girl up and down. This wasn't quite what she'd had in mind when she put in the request for extra help this week, but she'd take what she could get.
She eyed her new helper's staff and book; were those real? Sinai had seen her fair share of kids who pretended to be mages, and while it wasn't usually difficult to tell them apart from the ones who actually had a semblance of magical talent about them, those were few and far between, and weren't always keen to flaunt it. At the very least, they tended to be the more reasonable type of clientele she saw in the shop, even if they rarely bought anything. Equally tolerable were those with no inkling of magic, who were genuinely just curious about this strange shop in the middle of the carnival and stopped by to take a look. They'd search around, some might accept a palm reading or tea leaf divination (and might get excited about their first-timers "discount"), and every now and then one would pick up a small charm to give to their girlfriend or something. Slightly more difficult to deal with were the customers who actively practiced magic; about a quarter of them accepted the store for what it was and frequented it to peruse the scant portion of real enchanted or charmed items, which was fine and dandy. The rest, however, took offence to the idea of "posing" as a mystic shop, especially when it was possible for ordinary folks to accidentally pick up a charm, or cursèd curio, etcetera. Sinai had been forced to call security on rowdy gifted or fae on a couple of occasions, lest she forget the fire hazard the shop's decorative silks posed.
However, the risk to life and property presented by slighted magicians was nothing compared to the ingratiating pretentiousness of those who thought they understood anything magical at all. Sinai didn't pretend to be knowledgeable about most magical or religious philosophies outside of what was necessary to practice her divinations; this was not the case for much of her clientele. "New Age" spiritualists who just came to show off their skill in aura reading, or their acumen in identifying spiritually significant oils, or the depth of thought they'd put into the mysteries of worldliness or "oneness" or whatever they wanted to call it. Sinai shuddered to wonder which type this new girl would fall into. She seemed nice enough, but it was always difficult to be certain.
Well, we can worry about all that later, Sinai thought to herself, business first. Walking over to the girl, she put out her hand. "Sorry if I scared you. I'm Sinai, I run this little shop. Glad to have your help."
Just beyond the small booth's curtain doors, the loud din of carnival-goers' steps and voices rumbled and echoed across the busy streets. Sinai didn't mind the noise that much; after all, it could only mean more potential customers. Though her curiosity shop and fortune-telling stall was by no means the carnival's most popular operation, even she observed the peaks and troughs in clientele throughout the day. During the busiest days she'd even keep the shop open late into the night. Given that sleep was a luxury rather than a necessity for her, she could spare a few nights a week to run the shop around the clock (off the record, of course). Last night had been the second such night in a row this week, so she wasn't feeling particularly energetic, even with the fresh cup of soup her supervisor had graciously brought her as a late breakfast. She hadn't bothered to wear her enchanted jacket which protected others from her famine; though they wouldn't admit it, the concession stands valued the extra traffic Sinai's customers would inevitably bring after walking past her booth. In fact, she had briefly considered spending her next break walking around the more crowded areas to see if she couldn't earn a small bonus to treat herself with once the week was out.
But her break wouldn't be for a couple hours.
In the meantime, all Sinai could do was rest her chin in her hand, her fingers lightly drumming the tacky wooden display counter where she would be spending most of her waking hours for the next few months. Maybe she could reorganize the merchandise? Her boredom was unbearable by this stage, as customer frequency was waning this time of day. She sauntered over to the shelves where baubles and trinkets stood with some semblance of organization. Her manager had warned her that keeping them too orderly made them look "clinical" or something to that effect, so she was urged to focus on aesthetic rather than any practical layout. How had it been described? Wizardy, that was it. The booth had dark transparent silks slung across the ceiling, through which diffused lights cast a dim glow throughout the space. Shelves lined every wall, populated with an eclectic collection of knick-knacks, charms, cards, scrolls, posters, murals, jewels, cups, wands, vials, and snacks. The display counter held a similar collection of curiosities, including more high-end items: a skull-shaped candle holder, incense sticks, dowsing rods, an ornate teapot, a jar labelled HERB, a second-edition printing of Nostradamus. Questions abound, surely.
As Sinai was stood on her toes arranging some Lucky Cats to be engaging in some form of boxing match, she heard the soft jingling of the curtains' golden ornaments, indicating the arrival of a new customer. Sinai looked over her shoulder towards the newcomer and spoke evenly, saying, "Welcome, to this humble house of wonders." As she spoke, she lowered herself to a natural standing height and fully turned to face the new guest, her hands in her jacket pockets. "Are you in need of an arcane artifact or cursèd curio," she gestured to the shelves, "or would you like to have your fortune told?"
Sinai laid the card next to the first one and leaned back, thinking for a moment. "I think the galaxy is an allusion to the traditional Hermit card, which shows an old man guided by a lantern with a six-pointed star. A guiding celestial body of some kind, I guess. It's mostly an aesthetic choice, so I wouldn't read too much into it. As for its actual meaning, you've got one part of it right. While the upright Hermit normally refers to introspection and personal journeys, the inverted Hermit here alludes more to unhealthy isolation, seclusion, withdrawal, that sort of thing. It also indicates a fear of self-reflection, but I think it's up to you to decide whether that applies."
She held the hot glass in her hands, having gotten a little cold in the last couple minutes. "The cards are what I have the most experience in, so this is just me trying to give a good first impression," she said a little sheepishly. "I've gotten a little training in palm reading, charm casting, smoke-reading, that sort of thing, but I wouldn't call any of it 'magic.' As for whether it's true? That depends what you mean. Can I actually see into your past or future based on the cards I take out? No. But you saw this card," she tapped the Hermit, "and immediately thought of your introverted lifestyle, right? It may be a rather on-the-nose example, but it certainly tells me something about you. For a lot of people, contemplating these cards tells them things about themselves, which I think is what's really important. I won't be able to tell you what'll really happen in your future, but I can show you a certain... perspective, I guess. To some people, that's really valuable."
The corners of Sinai's mouth lifted slightly. "Not to say I don't have any methods of real divination," she said slyly. She cleared her throat and began hovering her hand over the cards again. "Anyway, I think it's about time we finished this up. This is the one everyone gets excited about, the future. Aaand..." She swept a card up, once again hiding its face from Sesz. She turned it over in her fingers, revealing a large, upside-down 2. The corners were alternately decorated with emblems of a diamond, as though from a playing card, and some kind of staff or rod. Sinai furrowed her brow and dramatically announced:
Sinai placed the card face-up in front of her and let out a laugh, pulling her hood off her head.
"Nah, that's just me trying to freak you out. It usually works on the more clueless superstitious types, it's fun." She nodded to the bartender and took a hold of her glass. "It might sound a bit spooky or melodramatic, but Death doesn't usually refer to actual physical demise, even in questions of health. It refers more to a dramatic change or transition, so you might think of it as Rebirth more than anything. Not to say it can't literally refer to death, though. All it really means is that your life so far has been punctuated by some deep, pronounced change. If that sounds like vague, Barnum-esque fortune cookie nonsense, that's because it pretty much is."
She chuckled and took a sip of her drink. Her hand hovered above the spread of cards again before suddenly descending, her finger landing on one of the cards. She pulled it from the spread and picked it up so Sesz couldn't see its face, then nodded. She turned the card over, revealing an emblem of a swirling galaxy. Though she held the card upside-down, the identifying legend clearly read:
Sinai stared blankly at the bartender for a few seconds before fully processing what they'd just said. When it finally clicked, she couldn't help herself from letting out a sudden snicker, hoping she wasn't blushing too hard. Without thinking, she downed the last of her toddy in one gulp. She itched idly at her nose and tried to avoid direct eye contact with anyone. "Well I don't know much about his girlfriend, but I sure could use another." She did her best to politely shoo away the bartender so she could regain her composure. Finally steeling the nerve to look Sesz in the eye, she said, "at least, I'm assuming I'm not your girlfriend tonight. I don't think they do couples discounts or anything here." She let out a small laugh before clearing her throat and quickly turning back to her cards.
"A-anyway! If you've never done a tarot reading before, don't worry, you won't have to do anything. Since you aren't going into this with a specific question in mind, we'll just do a general look at your past, present, and future." As she spoke, she began reshuffling the cards. "If you were a customer, I'd tell you to centre your energies or something, but for now you can just sit back, relax, and let this wizened old crone blow your mind with some keen spiritual insights. You ready?"
With a flourish, Sinai suddenly flipped up the hood of her jacket, casting a grim shadow over her face. She once again spread the cards face-down on the counter between her and Sesz, then took a small candle from the bar and held it between the two of them, illuminating her visage in the dim, flickering light. Her face was serious, almost cold. She spoke in a low voice...
"Let shine the cold mirror, vast; reveal to me this young man's past!"
Her hand hovered over the spread of cards, moving it back and forth before suddenly coming to a stop, a finger outstretched. She took the card to which she pointed and gently slid it from the spread, looking at it only briefly before turning it over in her fingers, showing Sesz its face. It was marked with a beautiful spiral of starry motes swirling around a black void, above which was emblazoned the emblem XIII. One of Sinai's fingers covered the bottom of the card, where its common name was written. She grinned as she removed her finger, revealing a single word:
Sinai turned to face Sesz, hiding how pleased she was by his show of interest. She cleared her throat before sweeping the cards back up into her hand in a swift motion, holding them out in front of her.
"You'd be surprised how long it takes to learn that, getting the pressure just right and everything. It changes depending on the weight and texture of the cards, as well as the surface they're on, so it's really finicky." She fanned the cards out into a large semi-circle in her hand. "But it's just tricks of the trade in the end. Some people just don't want to listen unless you can do this stuff, since it makes you look like you know what you're doing. I think I spent a whole weekend stuck in my apartment just practicing that spread over and over."
She turned the fanned cards over, revealing that they weren't playing cards, but tarot cards. They were illustrated with strikingly minimalist designs; black backgrounds surrounding sharp white forms. Each was identified both by small roman numerals above the design, and its common name written below.
"These ones were just released, I think the deck's called Stardust or something to that effect. Since our business supported their development early on we got sent an express order, and I'm on 'quality assurance' duty, as usual. I don't know if you go for this sort of thing, but as long as I'm meant to be testing them, I don't suppose you'd like a reading?"
Okay, rough start, Sinai thought to herself. It probably wasn't worth trying to pry anything more out of the guy. She had no intention of forcing Sesz into uncomfortable conversation, though she'd hoped to get over the 'introduction' hurdle a little more smoothly than that. She thought it was somewhat odd for someone to choose to sit right next to her in a mostly empty bar, order the same drink as her, but have little to no intention of actually interacting with her. Maybe a little impolite? But he definitely seemed to just be shy rather than outright unfriendly. Well, whatever. He had his reasons for being here, just like she did, and it was none of her business. If congenial silence is what he wanted, it's what he'd get. Though she was slightly disappointed by the short-lived conversation, at least she wasn't entirely lacking in things to do.
She turned her attention back to her drink and, with a long sip, quietly reaffirmed to herself that, yes, she did indeed miss being able to get drunk.
After putting down her glass she reached for the small wooden box in front of her, thinking it was about time she learned what was inside. She delicately slid the engraved cover off the face, and tipped the box's contents into her hand. A purple, hand-sized velvet pouch fell into her hand with a soft, metallic jingle. She loosened the drawstring on the bag and removed from it a deck of cards and a small brass pendulum on a chain, about half a foot in length. Ah, she thought to herself, nothing particularly special. She turned the cards over, flipping through them and examining their faces one by one. She shrugged and began to shuffle them with a practiced dexterity, before finally spreading them across the counter in front of her in a long, uninterrupted arc.
The bartender paid remarkably little attention to this, having seen it a few times before, and continued to dry glasses near the back corner. A look of boredom returned to Sinai's face as she stared at the spread of cards, lightly drumming her fingers against the counter as if wondering what to do next.
Sinai hadn't noticed the gentleman in the bar until he sat beside her. While she initially felt slight apprehension at his sudden, soundless appearance, his anxious demeanour told her he was probably just unfamiliar with the environment. She recalled her first few nervous visits to this bar, when she learned quite distressingly that alcohol no longer affected her. Unconsciously, she noted his reptilian eyes. Shifter? Naga? Something else? She didn't mean to devote too much thought to the question, but it crossed her mind regardless. She also noticed his clothes were entirely lacking for the weather—understandable, considering how suddenly the storm had come in—and she felt a pang of empathy for him as he shivered. She had briefly considered giving him a recommendation of a warm drink, but he began poring over the drinks list himself. As the young man fumbled with the menu and stammered his order, Sinai couldn't stop the corner of her mouth from curling into a slight smile. She wasn't used to being the "experienced" person at the bar, what with the gang of regulars usually milling about. Had he heard her order the hot toddy and decided to follow along? She wasn't sure, but the possibility entertained her. She wondered if he would eventually try to start a casual conversation with her; he couldn't know how long it would take the bartender to finish mixing their drinks, so the amount of silent, empty space to fill could be agonizing for both of them. She occasionally glanced his way to gauge his reaction, and couldn't tell if his face was flush from the cold or his obvious embarrassment.
The air hung completely silent, save for the sounds of the drinks being poured and stirred, until the bartender finally brought their hot toddies. Since they'd each ordered the same drink around the same time, the bartender had elected to serve them both at once. Sinai took the lemon wedge from her glass's rim and dropped it into the drink, stirring it somewhat pointlessly with the cinnamon stick it came alongside. While it had been fun to see her tongue-tied companion fidget awkwardly, Sinai figured she might as well offer him some respite at long last. She briefly wondered how to break the ice, before gently lifting her glass and holding it up expectantly.
"Yeah, cold weather sucks. Here's a toast to staying toasty," she said, and clinked her glass against his. She took a long sip, letting out a satisfied sigh. "I'm Sinai, call me anything you like. We might be stranded here a while, so might as well make ourselves comfortable." She rested her elbows on the bar as she looked at the young man out of the corner of her eye.
"So, what bad luck brought you out to the coast on a night like this?"
Not an hour ago the weather had been almost clear; now, as Sinai looked out the large awning window overlooking the closed-off patio, she could hardly see the ocean through the thick snowfall. The high-pitched yawning of the wind outside made her thankful she had gotten here before the worst of the storm hit. She felt a droplet of water drip onto her nose from the freshly melting snow in her hair and flinched. Damn the winters in this place, she thought to herself, exhaling with relief upon feeling the odd sensation of a warmed glass against her almost numb hands. A small pool of water had begun to form underneath her from the excess snow melting off her oversized dark coat, which nearly touched the floor from the barstool she sat on.
She gingerly sipped her hot toddy, likely the first of many drinks she'd be enjoying tonight. She thought to herself that she almost missed being able to feel inebriated, having slowly forgotten what it was like over the last couple of years. The drink didn't stave her hunger—nothing could—but she quietly admitted that the feeling of a hot drink in one's belly was a welcome sensation on a night like this. The bar was emptier than she'd ever seen it, since not many people had been there before it began snowing in earnest, and the meagre promise of a drink or two on a weekday night proved small incentive to brave the storm. She'd spent the last twenty minutes doing nothing but make occasional silent exchanges of eye contact with the bartender, who seemed none too keen for conversation this time of night. Not that she'd complain—she much preferred companionable silence to uncomfortable small talk. She took sidelong glances at the few souls stuck there alongside her, occupying plush benches in the booths or sitting alone at candlelit four-seater dining tables. Most nursed heady pints of ale or lager, some picked up discarded newspapers and leisurely skimmed last week's headlines or picked at half-finished crosswords, while a couple had brought books to read.
Sinai wasn't sure if anyone was occupying the private booths, nor was she quite bored enough to go check. Instead, her fingers moved idly across the surface of the small wooden box laid in front of her, gently feeling the texture of the decorative engraving which adorned its lid. Once she emptied her glass, she gestured to the bartender, who nodded and began fixing her a second toddy. She expected she'd be spending the rest of the evening alone until the storm passed, which she didn't mind; she was happy to take the time to herself after a long shift at work.
Then again, there's never a bad night for good company.
Sinai, in human form, appears to be a young girl just shy of average height, with a relatively slender build. She keeps her dark hair cut about shoulder-length, and doesn't feel the need to style it any more than is convenient. She tends to wear warmer clothing year-round, opting for her favourite sheepskin aviator jacket in the warmer seasons and a heavy-duty parka and scarf around wintertime (she hopes to get these charmed when she's saved up enough, to keep her extra warm). When on-duty at her nondescript magic shop and fortune-telling parlour adjacent to the local theme park, she tends to wear her casual clothing around regulars, but puts on a cheesy robe and witch's hat around patrons who look new and/or clueless. The only magical clothing she currently owns is a deliberately oversized jacket which totally obscures her face, charmed to dull the effects of her Famine on those around her.
When she shifts, she becomes a long-haired tortoiseshell domestic cat with a mostly black coat. Since her raising as an undead, her shifted form now shows a milky white film over her eyes, large patches of shedded fur, and—most predominantly—a bare view of her intestines and stomach. She tends to avoid shifting unless it's particularly necessary, not entirely comfortable with her new decaying appearance.
personality
Sinai, once a reckless and boisterous youth, has become significantly dulled since her death, to put it bluntly. This isn't to say she doesn't know how to have fun—Heaven knows she gets her kicks watching clueless patrons pretend they have any knowledge at all about the phoney magic-not-magic items she sells on the daily—only to say that having faced death, her priorities have shifted somewhat. She possesses a great empathy for the homeless and other impoverished people, particularly in the Winter months, and dedicates much of her free time to assisting them however she can; finding or mending blankets and clothes, donating food, directing to available shelters or soup kitchens, finding local job and volunteer opportunities, or even just giving a few encouraging words. She normally does this garbed in her charmed jacket, keeping her features well-hidden and ensuring her Famine doesn't make those people any hungrier than they already are. As such, she's a sort of folk hero among the homeless, who, due to her strange innate connection with stray cats, have dubbed her the Cat Whisperer.
Another thing she gained from her resurrection is a powerful appetite, exceptional even among Lich Beasts. More of her personal spending money than she'd like to admit goes into feeding herself, sampling every restaurant in her region and beyond. To say her stomach is like a chasm is to overestimate the size of that chasm. After some restaurant patrons began recognizing her and even adjusting their schedules to avoid or meet her as necessary, she surprised herself to an extent by starting a food blog, reviewing local eateries and occasionally advising new people in town about the most delicious and affordable food joints around. Still a bit bashful about the hobby, she takes pains to keep her blogger persona anonymous, though regulars she encounters often tend to suspect her, no matter how much she denies it.
On bad days, though, Sinai is much less shopkeeping-and-crêpes and a lot more chicanery-and-actual-fraud. She strongly resents anyone who assumes unmerited authority over her or generally demonstrates any kind of unwarranted superiority. Smug employers, pretentious jerks, those with more money than they know what to do with; to Sinai, these people are all fair game and worthy of being taken down a notch, sometimes disproportionately to their actual behaviour and in spite of their merits. When she feels particularly spiteful, she might deliberately follow them to make them feel extremely hungry after they've just eaten, predict terrible fortune to the more superstitious among them, or sell them mundane or even slightly cursed goods marketed as tidings of great fortune. Suffice to say that she often feels most motivated by spite.
abilities
Animal Connection (Advanced)
There's a belief that cats are one of nature's few creatures capable of seeing spirits. While no one knows for sure if this is true, they're still willing to discuss the subject to anyone able to communicate with them. Sinai feels a very strong connection to domestic cats, especially strays, and often consults them for advice. Alley cats make great informants and couriers, able to nimbly navigate the city from the lowest slums to the roofs of tall buildings, provided ample platforms for climbing. As such, Sinai often seeks out knowledgeable street cats to hear the latest current affairs, a useful asset in her "fortune-telling."
Raise Dead (Intermediate)
From her connection to cats comes the ability to temporarily raise them from the dead. Her most common use for this ability is to raise a cat who died suddenly and/or painfully so as to soothe them, in order to help calm their spirits so they don't go on ahead feeling any anger or sorrow. Another way she uses this is to speak with well-informed cats with knowledge only they knew, as many people don't think of common alley cats as witnesses to their misdeeds.
Pestilence (Beginner)
While Sinai would love to use roiling blankets of bats and insects to add a horror flair to her fortune-telling booth, she is unfortunately not very well-versed in controlling pests like some of her Lich Beast peers. In fact, she's surprisingly put off by anything that can fly, and tends to only use this power to keep excess rats and mice away from certain areas.
Plague (Intermediate)
In her undead cat form, Sinai exudes a contagious aura which afflicts those nearby with a form of CSD, or Cat-Scratch Disease. Those infected suffer fever, headaches, joint pain, and fatigue. In addition, this infection causes pain, swelling, and blistering in existing wounds.
Famine (Advanced)
As mentioned above, Sinai's famine is strong even among Lich Beasts, owing to the circumstances of her death. In an effort to minimize this curse's effect on the people around her, especially the impoverished, she often wears her enchanted jacket which limits the effect of the curse to just her.
Immortality (Natural)
backstory
Sinai grew up much further west in Canada as an extremely lazy shifter. Despite ample natural ability as a wild hunter, she much preferred the laid-back life of a street cat, happy to feed off scraps and only catching the occasional unfortunate rat when not at home. She simply adored busy city nightlife, whether joining the crowd on foot or admiring the dazzling lights from a rooftop. While on a family trip to Newfoundland with her parents one Winter, Sinai took it upon herself to split off from the group and wander around, winding up on a busy street somewhere in Lorsette. She had been having a good time until a disastrous blizzard struck, one which would last for nearly two days, grinding both road and foot traffic to a complete halt, and effectively stranding Sinai in the heart of downtown Lorsette without a clue where she or her parents were.
It was there, confused, hungry, and freezing, she came across a group of homeless people, huddled desperately together around a weak fire, bundled under what blankets they could share. Despite their destitution and the harsh weather, they gave Sinai what small scraps of food they could. For days she remained almost exclusively in her cat form, as it demanded much less food and gave her the thick fur coat she desperately needed; she doesn't know if any of those kind people ever learned she was a shifter at all. Nevertheless, it was was there in those alleys where she spent the last of her days, slowly succumbing to exposure, yet warmed by the compassion of the ones who suffered by her side. Those last days are ones she hardly remembers, her body and mind alike numb from the pain of frostbite and starvation.
She has yet to learn who or what resurrected her, only that when it happened, it was nearly Spring, and far from where she had died. She awoke more confused than ever before, and took several weeks to finally readjust and get her wits about her, both thankful that she seemed to no longer need to eat, and cursing the unnatural hunger she now felt. It was like those pains of cold and hunger had followed her into her next life and clung to her, and it was all she could do to not collapse from the pain until a food truck owner, perhaps too savvy for his own good, realized what she was and offered to feed and pay her to stand by his truck to draw in ever-hungrier customers. He had few scruples, but wasn't so ill-spirited as to not give her a letter of recommendation when she first discovered a more sustainable work opportunity. Between him and Sinai's new manager at the local seaside theme park, she was able to get on her feet and eventually even settle into a small rental apartment. As she gradually settled into her new life, almost content, she felt in herself an aching, one she finally identified as empathy; she longed to aid the ones who were her salvation in her last days, the homeless men and women who still suffered even as she lived on. She began donating and volunteering to charities and shelters dedicated to assisting those in need, and put up fundraising flyers near the theme park entrance without her manager's permission.
...Which brings us to today. Sinai continues to work for the theme park, manning a magic shop and fortune-telling booth adjacent to the main park itself, touted as a magical 'house of horrors' where park-goers can have their futures predicted, couples can have their compatibility determined, clueless bozos can buy mundane knick-knacks to (fail to) impress their families and friends, and those with actual knowledge of magic may just be able to pick up a charmed item or two if they know where to look. Sinai continues to work for the sake of the impoverished, using her knowledge and abilities to give them all the comfort and security they deserve. At night, she heads to secluded alleys where the homeless congregate, and puts her fortune-telling skills to use, giving them genuine advice and encouragement. Some call her the Cat Whisperer, others call her the Fortune-Teller for the Unfortunate, she tends to just call herself someone with a little compassion.
misc
In the wake of Sinai's obsession with food, it was inevitable that she someday attempt cooking for herself. While her early attempts proved remarkably disastrous, she eventually got the hang of a few recipes which, for lack of better options, she ends up cooking frequently and in excess. So far she's had the most success making gnocchi, which delights her, since it's her favourite food. All attempts at baking in general have ended poorly, with her landlord at one point cutting off the gas to her apartment after the third time she set off her fire alarm that week. At this point, she's at a level where she can consistently not burn her fried eggs. Yay!
Because of her line of work, Sinai is occasionally sent home with leftover unsellable knick-knacks from the magic shop or fortune-telling booth, leaving her with a worryingly ever-growing collection of trinkets and baubles slowly threatening to completely overtake her apartment. Are some of them actually magical? Probably! She honestly wouldn't be able to tell you.
roleplayer info
☆ NAME Peregrine
☆ RP EXPERIENCE Limited
☆ GENDER A mystery???
☆ AGE Where Josephus stood among 36 other soldiers (m=3)
☆ OTHER CHARACTERS n/a
☆ FACE CLAIM Kara no Kyoukai, SHIKI RYOUGI
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THIS CHARACTER BELONGS TO Peregrine. DO NOT STEAL.
...
Hey, there's extra space here! That's pretty neat.
I guess I could take this opportunity to apologize for the amount of writing here, I didn't intend for it to be this long.
...so how's your day been?
At this point I'm just procrastinating to avoid doing my assignments.
Yeah, yeah, I'll get to them soon.
.......
You know, not too long ago, people went around saying glass was a slow-moving liquid.
That's not true, just to be clear here.
(no pun intended.)
...
Though I guess you could technically say it's a slow-moving liquid, in the same way that ice is kind of just slow-moving water.
I mean, Glass is certainly interesting, in that it doesn't follow all the same rules as other solids do, but it's still, you know, rigid. Old panes of glass are sometimes wider at the bottom because glass rollers just used to be uneven, not because they're "settling" because of gravity or something.
Do not use drama to get attention in the chat. Nobody appreciates it.
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A Chatango account is not required, but it is encouraged.
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You may use the in-character chat prior to acceptance.
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Be respectful to anybody who enters the chat, including guest, fellow members and staff.
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Guests may speak in chat at anytime to ask questions or get a taste of our community~!
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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.
