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 2022
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.
With April, an activity check has arrived for members to do! Please post on the AC and tag all your accounts, including WIPs and OOC accounts. Failure to post on this AC will result in your accounts being marked inactive or deleted. Please note, due to a late start, the due date for this check has been adjusted for one time and one time only.
[attr="class","neviah-lyric2"]her gift seems more of a curse that she bears.
[attr="class","neviah-post"]
Apprehension coated Neviah, from her timid body language with fidgetting fingers to her facial expression. A low-volume, concerned sigh breached her lips. Together, her brows were knitted, his lips portraying a small, uncertain frown as she watched and listened to the woman. She wondered what her parents would think of this unrealistic demonstration of magic. After growing alongside the principles and meanings, she was entranced by genuine works of magical ability. However, never had she been greeted with the fakes of their incredible, mystical world.
Quelling the opinions inside her mind proved difficult as she observed Sinai from beyond the curtain. While she spoke of logs in familiarity and gaining connections between co-workers, Neviah struggled to conquer the nature of her work. Judgements were cruel but was standing idly by as somebody seemingly made a mockery of her genuine talents? The ID badge around her neck, as Sinai had pointed out, designated them as co-workers. Alas, her statements of it being short and them being coworkers failed to calm the anxiousness boiling inside.
Unfortunately, there appeared to be few choices with Sinai's... pushy... nature. A less audible sigh left her lips, Neviah's hand dropping in defeat. Options seemed nonexistent in her mind, thus, there was a single thing she could accomplish... follow Sinai and hope after this, their differences would be settled. Quietly, she pushed the curtain Sinai disappeared behind, her steps slow as she entered. The pink-haired woman's lips pressed together nervously as she moved in. A nervous 'oh' broke her lips as she took a seat.
"Are you sure about this? ... I'm not a big fan of... um... this kind of 'magic'," she mumbled as she followed.
Everything she learned from her parents consisted of a reality... Magic she kept cryptic for the sake of avoiding the cruel consequences but appreciated for everything it gave her. However, the magic prodigy was now the remaining piece of her family tree because of her decisions. Alas, while the truth of her magic caused problems, she believed the lies from a faked power were significantly more harmful. Unfortunately, she was forced to arrive at the cliche room, decorated with everything from crystals to other "witch" necessities without an escape...
ALL THAT WILL, LET IT BE! ALL THAT IS, NONE CAN SEE!
[attr="class","neviah-mid"]
[attr="class","neviah-mid2"]
[attr="class","neviah-img"]
[attr="class","neviah-left"]
571 words for[break] @ OPEN
Sorry for the wait!
[attr="class","neviah-lyric2"]her gift seems more of a curse that she bears.
[attr="class","neviah-post"]
Gradually, the school year was reaching its close as summer inched ever closer. Students were excited for the final month to conclude, alongside the field trips captured in June. Nonetheless, the end of each school day was regularly greeted with the abrupt hurrying of children out the large double doors. From the fleeting steps of the unhurried, Neviah ventured out, backpack in tow and footsteps slow. Clenched in her delicate, pale hands was a relatively large glass bottle brimming with sparkling, purple liquid.
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Over the days leading to school’s end, the pink-haired witch had noticed patches of brown grass. The dried-out patches required a boost to grow and become furtive and green. Given Lorsette High School’s recent haste in finishing the school year, certain portions of the playground received neglect. Thus, with her magic at the ready and a wish for some practice, Neviah poured an hour into the brewing of a potion. The purple liquid, imbued with her powerful magic, was designed to assist with the rapid growth of plants and restoring their health.
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A subtle skip entered the young girl's steps. The pink, plaid dress swayed around her, adding a joyous and light-footed tone to her jubilee. Jostling around her waist was the small, pink messenger's bag holding the dozens of school books for homework. Alas, the time of final assignments and studying would wait until after her single mission. Across the schoolyard her feet carried her, feeling the soft embrace of an early summer's breeze and sounds of fleeing children. The pink-haired witch journeyed to the first of the noticed brown splotches.
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Behind the cage of a small kick-ball diamond was one of these infamous patches. Long scorched and left an ugly brown shade, the plantlife required the boost. A deep breath was sucked into the depths of Neviah's lungs, her teeth running over her lower lip. One of her hands carefully held the neck of the bottle, the cool glass tickling her pale skin. A single, sharp tug removed the cork from the top, allowing access to the purple potion. Carefully, Neviah tilted the liquid over the grass, eyes watching it glisten over the brown grass and soak into the soil.
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Under the health boost of the potion, the grass twitched, a greener tinge to the colour. Briefly, she pulled the bottle up, allowing her a proper gaze in the subtle changes. A smile played across the young witch's face as she observed the grass slowly gain health. A glimmer of pride played inside her pink as a satisfied 'hmm' escaped her closed lips.
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"There you go, no more brown patch," she informed her little patient.
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Despite the lingering remnants of death in the grass' shade, the young witch felt joy. Between her closed lips trickled a gentle hum as Neviah continued to cautiously pour the liquid. In her capable hands, the bottle was spread over the brown patch, the potion feeding the grass life once again. Slowly, she reached the final drop, watching it drip over the bottle's lip and onto the greening grass. Through her cherried lips breathed a gentle sigh as she finished the assignment she provided herself. A sense of hurry failed to invade her, Neviah deciding to remain by her work.
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Settled on her knees with her bottom rested upon her feet, Neviah discovered comfort. The refreshing air of the outside world consumed her as peace resided over her shoulders and eased.
[attr="class","neviah-lyric2"]her gift seems more of a curse that she bears.
[attr="class","neviah-post"]
Seconds were being counted down to the long over-arching goal of escape from the peculiar "magic" shop. The pink-haired soothsayer comprehended the requirements of financial gain, however, under the guise of tricks and deceit, it left her hesitant. Endless curiosities entered her head, each panging with a subtle sense of concern the further her brilliant pink orbs drank in the sights. As a member of the Laine family, she knew the whims of Fate were cruel and merciless. As a soothsayer, she learned the desperation in naïve individuals searching for answers.
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Thus, the young witch reveled in her concerns about the existence of a shop playing off the stereotypical concepts of magic work. In silence, she watched the boxed women get wheeled through the tiny shop and towards the unfilled space. The squeak of dolly wheels and clunking of the machine being shuffled into place filled Neviah's ears. Instinctually, her footsteps carried her back. The young fortune teller wanted to avoid disturbing Sinai or getting bumped into should she require the additional room to wheel her elderly treasure into place.
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Eventually, the large machine was placed to satisfaction, leaving it a looming, old woman captured in a box. The soothsayer's eyes locked onto the old crone, discontentment exhibiting on her face bright as day. Never had the teenager been acquainted with somebody willingly using the old fortune-telling gimmicks. The façade of truth was hidden beneath the curiosity of endless stereotypes to the world of magic, specifically in connection to witches and warlocks. Her thoughts were broken the instant Sinai's words drifted into her ears.
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The pink-haired witch stiffened at her words, her hands clasping together with fidgeting fingers. Slowly, her gaze shifted, eyes hesitant to gaze into the piercing glare provided by Sinai. As the question about a free fortune reached her ears, the young girl felt the trepidation in her heart. Should the lack of truth in her words be recognized, the genuine soothsayer wanted to avoid causing further strife.
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"Um... I-I don't know," the young soothsayer murmured.
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Rudeness was an avoided trait, however, Neviah struggled not to cling to her apprehension of the magical store. Underneath the woman's gaze, she discovered a thick coat of anxiety drifting over her shoulders. Masking her genuine beliefs and concerns over the running of a stereotypical magic shop had been near impossible, and Sinai called her out. The mysterious woman recognized her expression, and without hesitation, possessed the gull to mention it upfront. Confrontation was never something Neviah handled with grace, rather, she crumbled beneath its mighty hammer.
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Beneath its crushing grip, there were questions. The most prominent being if Sinai realized her identity or possessed the vague notion of her species. The pink-haired girl's species and notable family name would be considered a trustworthy source to shatter the mystic and unveil reality via genuine magic. She associated with Fate, gazing upon the glimpses of the future provided in its moments of graciousness for skill.
[attr="class","neviah-lyric2"]her gift seems more of a curse that she bears.
[attr="class","neviah-post"]
Once surrounded by a realm of magic, Neviah struggled to comprehend the mystic of the mechanical old woman in the booth. Genuine fortune-tellers were capable of uncovering truths, at least, potential truths. Fortunes capable of revealed through the spoken cryptic words, for meddling with fate only summoned misfortune upon the meddlers. In her short years of experience, she learned the overarching concerns with meddling. Alas, the circumstance featured more of a liar's take on the mystifying ways of the fortune teller.
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Without the ability, where was the truth to those vague statements? What should happen if somebody became suffocated by the weight of thoughts should their feigned prediction be horrid? While unable to directly influence fate's course, her fortunes could operate as warnings of caution without it being paranoia manifested from a lie. Her brows hung low as a soft, concerned frown graced her light pink lips. Never had Neviah received a proper introduction to these types of people. Those who profited off the mystical nature of fortune-telling.
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Though the offence caused by Neviah's words caused the young, pink-haired girl to shy away from further confrontation. She knew naught this woman's species, meaning she had no place to speak out. Rather, she gave an awkward, faked grin with an uncomfortable laugh leaving her throat.
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"I see... I was just curious, sorry," she responded, hesitance marking her words.
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At the end of the day, Neviah was the hired help. With limited options provided to her, the most the young girl could accomplish was blindly obeying the orders of the older booth runner. The sound echoed from the smack given to the machine, entering the young girl's ears as she stared at the creepy, old machine. The fake skin around the woman's face accompanied by the stereotypical garbs of a fortune teller... The machine bore the mask of stereotypes with excellence, a mask Neviah held mixed feelings on but refused to vocalize out of concerns of causing offence once more.
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"I guess," she responded to Sinai's complement of the "crone".
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She watched the woman fetch the dolly, the lip being pushed under the machine's base. Anxiously, the pink-haired woman stepped back, eyes widening with concern and uncertainty. Though, her thoughts only eased when Sinai mentioned the machine not being overly heavy. She gave a quick nod to the woman.
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"Alright... I will go take a look," the young fortune teller murmured.
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The young, pink-haired woman turned back to the onslaught of shelves. Slowly, she stepped forward, navigating through a little before turning back.
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"This side should be wide enough," she called back.
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Moments later she scuttled forward, searching for the gap mentioned. Her pink eyes scanned over the front of the store until settling on the gap to the roughly estimated width of the machine. She glanced over at the dolly handling woman before pointing at the gap, waiting for her to catch up before further discussion.
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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.