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!
Azure reached across the endless skies above, clouds being nonexistent on the pleasant, summer day. In the center was the sun, shining brilliantly over Lorsette, quietly residing over Earth, waiting until nightfall arrived and rest would come. A mere glance out the window would manifest assumptions of normality; a pleasant summer day perfect for swimming and perhaps ice cream. However, Lorsette constantly buzzed with action because of the heightened tourists. Despite the city's plight of terror attacks and Assembly villainy, it managed to remain lively.
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The unexpected trait of Lorsette oftentimes made it a difficult location to protect without incident. While the TRS attempted to protect citizens where possible, some could not peer into the future. Thus, an elite hunter lurked, prepared and somebody who no longer required sleep. The dark uniform accented with flamboyant reds, an eye-catching piece for any lurking terrors or Assembly members. Frequent surveys of the area were conducted while another man which similar red-coloured accents followed behind him. A team tasked with the removal of a large group of troublemakers in the area, some rumoured the numbers surpassed 20.
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The rumours were believed to be speculations manifested by frightened citizens who failed to handle the low-level fear eater. Those alleged additional sightings of terrors nonetheless prompted the TRS to send two elite hunters to avoid the possibility of somebody meeting an untimely demise. Members of the TRS were indispensable to defeat the Assembly of Phantoms. If numbers dwindled, the city could easily become overrun with terrors and despicable Assembly members.
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Allowing Zeredah to establish her strict rules over Lorsette would only prove she could potentially reign supreme. In silence, the pair wandered, conversation becoming strained because of one’s overly serious attitude. The blue-haired hunter, tall, muscular and stern-faced possessed the name tag ‘Fritz Jacobs’. The TRS uniform wrapped comfortably around his body and a scabbard tightly embracing his waist. Firmly held in the sheath was a sword, evidently old and well-cared for throughout those years. They marched through the scarcely populated area, each searching for the terrors in the area.
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Civilians glanced, eyes widened with concern as frowns traced their lips. The presence of TRS hunters confirmed the possibility of terrors being in the area, especially considering they were a pair of elites. They proceeded down the sidewalks, carefully examining the area until a shrill scream reached their ears. Without hesitation or confirmation, the pair began hustling down the sidewalk while citizens hurried in the other direction. Noises led them into Crow Feather Park, neither hesitating for even a moment.
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Haste allowed the scene to appear, several troublemakers were attempting to harm innocent people. Immediately, the pair moved towards their separate targets, Fritz rushing towards a mother defending her child with a force field. Unfortunately, she did not appear skilled in the field, especially with her young child wailing beside her, obviously frightened. A single calloused, scarred hand reached across to the left side of Fritz's waist, grasping the broadsword's handle and drawing the weapon. From behind, the reaper slashed hard at the troublemaker's head, slicing it clean off. The fear eater went limp before transforming into dust.
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The frightened mother glanced at the TRS hunter, surprised, but perhaps grateful despite the pang of fear created by his reaper genes. She quickly snatched up her toddler, keeping him close and hastily brushing away her blonde hair while Fritz moved around her. Another troublemaker approached, long, shadowy claws reaching out in an attempt to cut down the elite hunter, however, he blocked with his sword. There was a fluent nature to Fritz's movements and actions as he remained strong under the claws of his enemy.
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In a mere few seconds, he sparked his fear inducement, stunning the fear eater which allowed the blue-haired man to push back. He slashed strongly, broadsword slicing through the creature's arm. A hiss of pain escaped its lips, however, the torment for the terror would promptly end as Fritz stepped forward and proceeded to cut his enemy down. Several large cuts were across the troublemaker's torso until finally deteriorating into dust. Afterwards, the elite hunter glanced around, noticing his partner continue working while he searched for a new enemy. The troublemakers needed to be defeated after all, and Fritz knew it would not be long.
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Tags: @open [break] Notes: Old thread I wanted to reuse!
[attr="class","youfallbot2"]WHO WANTS TO BE A HERO
Shrill screams filled the air as panicked people fled from the scene. Mothers and fathers scooping their precious children into a protective embrace before sprinting down the sidewalks. Distant teachers called for children and parents to seek shelter within the walls of the school. Unfortunately, Fritz already guessed the havoc-wreaking disgraced hero could break through the confines of a meagre brick wall. The crumbled street was a testament to the creature's undeniable strength and considering the clad of red armour, ill-effects would be minimal.
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Adrenaline mingled with the blood flowing heavily through Fritz's veins, intermingling and preparing him for a difficult fight ahead of him. The echoes of panic, it made his heart beat faster as his muscles grew tense. Memories of his past repeated in his mind, the evening they arrived. The sounds of squealing mothers melancholically sobbing for their children until the merciless executioner's axe parted them from their mortal bodies. The screams of victims burning and suffering beneath the maniacal decisions made by troops motivated by greed and embarrassment.
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One breath in, a long exhale. Fingers curled tighter around the broadsword in his hands, a trusted friend. Two-thousand-years he spent repaying for failing his village. Fulfilling his life after the bitter news of a curse enforcing a return to the twisted world of reality. Greyscale was traded for the colourful, vibrance and cruel darkness of a dimension riddled with misfortune and war. Not by choice did Fritz return, however, by choice he decided to devote his life to rescuing others from injustice.
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Vile choices of villainous monsters kept Fritz standing against those who plot to destroy the innocent. Heroics were something the blue-haired warrior vowed himself to. Not the moral codes of medieval chivalry or any grandiose concept. Everything the ancient reaper followed consisted of his personal moral codes accompanied by the overwhelming desire to assist the innocent individuals who required it. For everybody he lost centuries ago, he would stand against the man opposing him and hold in his heart the heroic code he granted himself.
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Tales of Rowan's strength orbited through his mind. Undoubtedly, an incorrect move would potentially result in broken bones. The reaper would be required to act fleet-footed and weave around those hefty blows until the armoured man tired. There were some similarities in this fight to battling a brute-type terror. Once everybody retreated to safety, an eerie silence settled over the future battlefield. The scarred hands of the reaper remained tightly clasped around his sword, sapphire eyes locked on the enemy in preparation.
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Their duel would begin and somebody would be left standing or perhaps neither should it become dangerous enough. Undoubtedly, though, Fritz would hear Vashti's displeasures about him battling against a weighty suit of armour with, theoretically, a literal legend hidden beneath the ruby-coloured armour. Fright chased her whenever Fritz accomplished these reckless tasks, relentless like a starving wolf. The brunette always worried, and despite their disagreements about whether they were tied by the mystic strings of soulmates, she stood beside him.
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Before he became acquainted with Vashti, Fritz was a wandering hunter, hardly caring about his health and well-being. While most of those traits proved prominent over the centuries he knew Vashti, he attempted to lower his ignorant choices. The woman worked two jobs, the least he could accomplish was soothing her endless frets over him... and simultaneously limiting hours spent hearing her lectures. Alas, what was he to do when there were limited options provided? When there was nobody else willing to defend others from the sword of a monstrous beast? One with tales of a hero fallen from Enki's divine path?
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From a hero transformed into the monsters he fought. Into the person, he was destined to defend others from. A monster hungry for lust and abuse without a shred of mercy remaining in his soul. Innocent shattered, leaving the hollowed shell of a man. A malicious criminal, moralless and evil. It was a saddening sight, however, sorrows of losing a man capable of defending many would fail to dampen Fritz's soul. He swore upon himself a duty, and he would be damned if he failed again; literally and figuratively.
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Death meant being cast away into the endless void, the unknown realm for shattered swords. Therefore, he would be expected to play this twisted roulette of whether he would survive. Prayers of his skill possessing enough power entered Fritz's mind as he equalized his breathing, thoughts going a million miles per hour. As any warrior would, he concerned himself with the impending fight.
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Failure meant casualties, one potentially being his life should Fritz prove to fall into recklessness. Even breaths were accomplished in an attempt to maintain calm nerves. Years of fighting, it kept him steely against the anxieties of battle, however, he never got used to it. If anything, he grew numb to the effects of fighting having been involved in the War of Traitors and been a mercenary for years longer. A complete adjustment would mean there would be no mercy remaining in his heart... and he refused to become similar to the disgraced Rowan.
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A moment of silence presided over the battlefield as the suit of red armour with haunting glowing eyes stared at him. A breeze drifted through, rustling trees. People hid behind their chosen cover, praying their lives would be spared on this frightful day. The softest chatter of people on phones, reporting the incident narrowly reached Fritz's ears, his lack of hunter's uniform persuading people to inform the TRS. At some point, the backup would arrive, however, when was an entirely different question. In a battle, any second could result in death, especially in an ill-favouring one.
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The reaper expected an attack to be launched, but instead, a voice echoed from the depths of the suit. Metallic and disconcerting for anybody in the area. It reminded him of the soft grinding of gears mingled with crushed metal. An accusation was created was made about Fritz's identity, resulting in a subtle raise of his brow... He was not the centuries-old disgraced hero the red-coloured armour spoke of... In fact, Fritz's hair would be considered a direct opposite colour compared to the infamous Rowan.
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The inquiries stated in the armour's chilling voice altered the original theory in Fritz's head... This was not Rowan the Strongman hidden beneath the layers of metal coating... No, this was something else. Although, it failed to explain the suit's reanimation... Armour would require a human vessel to accomplish its plans, would it not? Or was some twisted breed of terror being held hostage inside the suit. From the glowing white eyes began a trickling of 'tears' running over the protective shield of the armour.
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The suit was upset about its abandonment? Was it unaware of the heinous crimes committed by its previous owner?! The concept was peculiar and unexpected given the circumstances. Anger shortly flared inside the armoured giant as a misconception was established by the frightful creature. A roar bellowed from the armour as he launched forward, sword drawn and prepared to accomplish a verticle swing. The blue-haired hunter wasted no time diving away, accomplishing a roll as he landed. He steadied himself in a crouching position, sapphire hues locked on his opponent.
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The battle had begun!
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The reaper rose from his position, eyes shifting into their soul vision mode as he stepped back. As somebody with lesser strength, Fritz would be required to air on the side of caution. The warrior kept stepping back, eyes searching for the obvious signs of a terror... but there was nothing... Those creatures lacked a soul, but somewhere inside the chest plate, a soul blazed. Eyes widened as Fritz reached a conclusion about the questionable situation. Somebody was trapped inside Rowan's ancient suit of armour.
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Would attacking them bring about pain? Potentially... Therefore, Fritz discovered himself in a situation of desperation... If the individual was used as a catalyst for the suit was unable to control himself, he could murder an innocent... or alternatively, this could be a large facade designed to make the helpless die beneath the vicious Zeredah. Neither option sounded pleasant, however, Fritz held an objective... To try and reason with or immobilize the suit to avoid damaging the soul within.
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With narrowed eyes he stared at the red suit, fingers clenching his sword hard while blood bulleted through his chest. This would be a risky situation.
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"I am not Rowan the Strongman. I'm Fritz Jacobs, I was a mercenary through the War of Traitors. If you put down your weapon, I would be willing to talk," Fritz offered, calling to the suit.
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In the warrior's shout, he offered no knowledge about the suit being left to its lonesome. The last thing the blue-haired reaper desired was to infuriate the red armour further, although, he was uncertain if that was a possibility... If the armour was sold on the ancient hunter being Rowan the Strongman, then everything would boil down to a fight. Fritz steeled himself for either option the prehistoric armour chose. Should the battle wage on? Then the blue-haired reaper would have his work cut out for him stalling the suit from killing him.
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This morning, things were supposed to be relaxing, alas, danger always seemed to follow Fritz. Complaints would not be registered though as he became high off the fuel of adrenaline. Quickly, he adjusted his sword, handle down and blade pointed diagonally to defend his chest. He was uncertain if his broadsword would hold up against a direct attack, however, he hoped the sturdiness charms would assist in making it last longer. Unfortunately, Rowan was labelled 'the strongman' for nothing. Steady breaths were taken as Fritz prepared himself for the worse.
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Hastily, the reaper's eyes combed through the area, hoping there would be something capable of aiding in his fight. If the circumstances worsened, the trained hunter hoped he could persuade Rowan's armour to follow him into the depths of the forest. An isolated area would be needed should Fritz be required to outlast this menacing creature in a potentially brutal fight.
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Tags: @irgrischamp55 [break] Notes: Word count fight! XD
[attr="class","youfallbot2"]WHO WANTS TO BE A HERO
Wailing screams and distant victory chants while rope bitterly bit into the delicate skin around his wrist and ankles. A gradual accumulation of blood, warm and belonging to him slithered from his wrists, being consumed by braided strands. Bruises covered his body as he struggled against the bindings, craving freedom for the sole purpose of saving any of the fortunate. Another survivor amidst the burning rumble perhaps?! But further and further they took him... and little did he know, he was the only one left...
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Melancholic memories were inevitable for a hero of Fritz's age. For boundless years, his fingers curled around his sword as he fought against merciless bandits or raiders. He thought of himself as a hero and among the best fighters of his village, but that day? He failed them... Each swing of his sword cut down a single man in an army of swarming raiders. His pathetic strength as a mere human weighed hardly a coin in comparison to the raiders with their abilities. They were destined to be defeated on that evening...
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Destined to have their homes torched and people slaughtered... All because he humiliated them by conquering a single man in a duel... They should have known they would grow angered of honouring a duel against a mere magicless human. Returning to Earth was never Fritz's decision, yet, here he stood, walking down the sidewalks of Lorsette. A similar circumstance of protecting his home presented to him upon settling into the danger-ridden city. An ancient relic of a hero who fought against the endless strife of time's challenges to be alive.
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There were plenty of grand warriors lost in the desert of time's sands, never to be located and some even not remembered. Burdened by his thoughts, Fritz exhaled a lengthy sigh, eyes closing as his right hand moved towards his face. Fingers swept into his hair, the palm of his hand stationed on his forehead. A deep breath entered his lungs, filling them before being repeated by another long release of bated breath. Slowly, his eyes opened, hand leaving his forehead as he decided to have a brief break from his walk.
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With the thought inside his mind, Fritz surveyed the area, noticing the playground surrounded by a chainlink fence taller than him. Arms were crossed as the blue-haired man turned his back to it, leaning against the cold chainlink fence as they pressed against the cloth of his shirt. Fortunately, his skin would be mostly spared from the chills of the metal. Wrapped around his wrist was a temperature regulating bracelet. A useful charm designed to stave away frigid winds or balmy summer sunlight. While it failed to eliminate every shred of cold, it assisted in suppressing it enough.
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The blue-haired reaper glanced towards the azure skies above, watching as clouds passed by in their lazy motions. Confused children passed him, planning on hurrying home for their precious personal time spent in enjoyment or hastily finishing homework. For the most part, the ancient warrior ignored them, staring towards the sky, forcing his breath to remain even. Around him, people spoke, their words unheard by the reaper. The distant sounds of loud footsteps echoed his way, however, Fritz ignored the noises.
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There were no screams, therefore, the reaper figured everything was alright for the time being. Then, arrived something peculiar, a sense. He stiffened at the strange and sudden sensation as his body began sensing something. A person... but why were these sensations arriving to him? From his recollection, spirits were the only creatures with those abilities, not reapers. The ancient warrior pushed off the fence, the sounds of rattling linking chains filling his ears. Concern filled the pits of the reapers stomach as he took hesitant steps forward.
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The sounds of panicked civilians captured the ancient warrior’s attention, his sapphire eyes locking on them. Some grabbed their children, ushering them away while proclaiming ‘TERROR’ without much thought. Alas, the mere word prompted Fritz’s hand to act, his right hand darting across to his left hips. Fingers curled around the handle of his broadsword, tight to the point his knuckles turned pale. With the echo of a soft shing, the weapon exited his sheath. The sword was swiped to his side, remaining extended as he hurried towards the location the frightened citizens fled.
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As he approached, the ground abruptly shook, unbalancing Fritz, however, the warrior caught himself with his hand. The man’s eyes narrowed, searching for the creature responsible. A war cry bellowed from something just beyond the swarming people hastily escaping. Slowly, he rose, listening to shouts of people mentioning a mutant type of darkness... however... the moment the blue-haired man’s eyes locked on the creature, he knew otherwise. Surprise flickered in his blue hues as the reaper realized what stood beyond him.
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A ruby-coloured suit stood there, eyes glowing and a massive sword clenched in his hands. Distant memories entered Fritz’s mind as he stared at something once lost to the sands of time. Rowan’s armour, a creation of Enki during the middle of the war. Long after the blue-haired hero’s death, the praised man worked towards saving others. Alas, in the end, the hero transformed into a monster, forcing himself on his daughter... While Fritz never met the hero, he heard the legends and witnessed drawn portrayals of Rowan.
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Alas, an interaction never existed... nonetheless he heard about the man's demise and the armour being cast into the depths. Yet, here it stood, prepared for a duel and being claimed as a mutant-type terror, which was unlikely. The hero's eyes narrowed as he watched the suit of armour, believing the man turned monster came back from death. Sword in hand, Fritz approached senses growing as he prepared for combat. While the reaper was not on duty, he considered it his duty to defend others from danger, especially these questionable situations.
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He was clueless about what Rowan would accomplish, however, as a man willing to sacrifice everything to preserve the lives of others, he refused to back down. The reaper heard the legends of his strength, the crumbled concrete around the armour's feet making it obvious... Powerful strength was nothing to doubt, therefore, the hunter planned on being cautious about the situation. Since should he die early, the armoured man would be left to demolish everyone. Adrenaline roamed Fritz veins as he stood tall, prepared to enter combat in the name of saving others.
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Tags: @irgrischamp55 [break] Notes: I will mention, Fritz isn't on duty, so he is not in uniform, however, I am fine with someone maybe recognizing him without it since Fritz is an old hunter or say another TRS passed.
[attr="class","youfallbot2"]WHO WANTS TO BE A HERO
A chilly spring's breeze embraced those wandering the streets of Lorsette on a late afternoon. The sun was gradually falling from its peak amidst the skies above. A ball of light in a sea of azure dotted with white clouds acting as large boats. Shade occasionally consumed the earth as the wispy white splotches blocked out the sunlight. People still wandered the streets, accomplishing their shopping in preparation for the evening. Through the sidewalks, an off-duty hero wondered the concrete pathways of Lorsette.
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Despite his TRS uniform's absence, the ancient warrior's sword was positioned on his left hip. Should danger arise, his hand shalt, not quiver, in preparation to rescue those from the wrath of the Assembly. Those monstrous heathens always slithered through the streets of Lorsette to his dismay. Unfortunately, this afternoon the blue-haired sword wielder, Fritz Jacobs, was not searching for the dastardly organization. As expected of all working-class citizens, holidays would be thrust upon him and he would begrudgingly accept.
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Holiday time was frequently spent playing music in the basement of his small home, however, he became stir crazy. Hours spent trapped inside those walls doing exercise routines or playing the smooth keys of a piano made him feel trapped. Thus, the warrior dawned his sword and decided on a long walk through Lorsette. Ending up in the northern section of the troubled city was hardly a choice, but rather, an exploration. Frequently, Fritz stuck to the more populated locations or the perilous outskirts hunting down terrors or Assembly of Phantoms members.
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Meanwhile, the northern area was usually an untouched gem with some sorrowful exceptions. A peacefulness consumed the atmosphere near the school district. The quiet, the ease and pleasant chatter of school kids walking to their homes. Compared to the other areas of Lorsette, the northern area was considerably more tranquil. Deep breaths of precious air were taken as Fritz strolled the sidewalks, earning the occasional curious glance. The ancient warrior possessed his sword, however, to accompany the peculiar characteristics were old-style linens and trousers.
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A pale, light beige shirt different in make covered his muscular, albeit, maimed torso, meanwhile, a pair of medieval, black rider's trousers were pulled over his bed. In sync with his sword were thick, black combat boots, laces double-knotted; he rarely purchased other pairs of shoes. He was somewhat of a peculiar sight, not a complete sore thumb amidst the modernly clothed people, but enough to warrant a momentary glance over. Alas, the blue-haired TRS hunter was uninhibited over curious glances and subtle notes of bewilderment on others' visages.
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Escape from the same walls of his small home was all he sought on that May afternoon. As he walked passed the school, he rounded a corner, trained ears searching for noise amidst the giddy children wandering. In an automatic loop, his sapphire hues surveyed the area, his on-duty instincts permanently imprinted in his brain. If there was danger, he was trained to discover and eliminate it... and those actions were etched into the creases of his brain forevermore. Years as a guard, centuries as a mercenary and even more as a hunter...
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He was designed for combat, morals enforcing him to become a hero all those years ago... On an eve where smoke burned inside his nostrils, ragged coughs escaped his mouth as he fought through the burning in his lungs. Every fibre of his being screaming to fight and defend that most precious to him... until he failed.
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Tags: @irgrischamp55 [break] Notes: I made the thread! I hope this works. c:
[attr="class","youfallbot2"]WHO WANTS TO BE A HERO
They walked down the hallway, a disjointed duo. Throughout their venture, Fritz failed to detect the impact of his cynical words. The reaper was considered a blunt man despite his heroic efforts. Brutal honesty felt necessary sometimes and he wanted Quan to place his time in other pursuits, more worthwhile ones. There were few things this world would grant a man dragged down by the negative occurrences of his life. The ancient warrior was somebody broken down by the world, battle after battle making him believe his purpose was acting as a shield to others, not pursuing love.
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As they ventured through the hallways, Fritz followed Quan around a corner where they finally saw Kaitlynn Harris, one of unit two's sergeants. Accompanying her was a familiar woman, Vashti Evans, the girl who insisted strongly they were soulmates with the utmost determination. A soft sigh escaped the blue-haired warrior's lips. The one person he wanted to remain safe at home, resting, decided to assist with the blizzard. Unit two was charged with tracking down those malicious creatures, meaning Vashti would be placed directly in danger.
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The dark-haired man called for his sister, Fritz watching as Kaitlynn's face turned to surprise and soon worry. She approached her older brother, pulling him into a hug while soothing him. Only moments later did he notice Vashti's expression, her hand wrapping around his arm to drag him away. He failed to realize Quan had been upset, which meant he would receive a stern talking to.
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Tags: @quan [break] Notes: My endless notes
[attr="class","youfallbot2"]WHO WANTS TO BE A HERO
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The skin is created by Wolf of Adoxography and Gangnam Style. The thread and conversation remodels are by Kagney. The Strange Reality board list, Heal My Soul info center, I Remember Now mini profile and Electric Requiem profile remodel is made by Pharoah Leap. The Who's That Member member list remodel was made by Tictactoe. The Cbox.ws Shoutbox remodel was made by Trinity Blair. All templates used for claims, information sheets, applications, etc are credited to their owners; credits for these can be found in the threads the templates are use on. Images that are used on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners, however, they have been edited by Zac with a few being edited by Chibi Magician. The plot, rules and various other information pieces for The Duality of Man are written by Chibi Magician with the assistence of her co-admins, Finnegan and Dremulf, alongside other unlisted people who were kind enough to give their input. The TRS, AP and face claim were all created by Fleur for specifically the use of TDOM. All plugins used on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners. The templates my members use are credited to their maker, if you find a template that belongs to you, but is uncredited, please speak to Chibi Magician or the member themself. Characters created on The Duality of Man are credited to their owners and should not be used elsewhere without the creator's permission.
Special thanks for the members of TDOM who make suggestions to help make this site better. Even though we can not accept all suggestions, we immensely appreciate it. Thus, we give credit to any additions that you thought of and were later implimented by the staff, because we are glad you give us these excellent ideas.
