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","ayab-lyrics"]be as you've always been
[attr="class","ayab-tagged"]for @//
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[attr="class","ayab-text"] “Someone to call…” she muttered quietly. “I could call one of my dads. They’d be pissed though, I’m not supposed to talk to murderer. Or strangers.” They’d also probably be upset that she was taking so long to get home. It was definitely better to just find her way back herself and try to sneak into her room. Then she could avoid the issue altogether. [break][break] Ziya shot a sharp look at the murderer at his response to her open mindedness about European traditions. “Thats very rude, you know. You can’t go judging other people’s cultures. That’s called… uhhhhh…. Racism?” It definitely sounded like racism. “So wait, you’re a racist murderer? Was the clown also European then?”
[attr="class","ayab-text"]Ziya blinked at his question. The address? "Uh..." she brushed a strand of lose hair out of her face. "Ya know, I'm not really sure. It's the yellow house with the doormat and the tree. It's next to the weird green one with the windows and the red jeep that's always outside." She nodded. That seemed like a pretty detailed explanation, if he knew where it was he'd be able to figure it out. And if not how could he help her if he had the address. "Oh wait! That made it sound like my house doesn't have windows. It does, they're just different because the ones at the weird green house are weird." [break][break] As they came to another turn, Ziya took it more confidently. It didn't matter that she had no idea where they were, she'd recognize something eventually. "Don't worry, I've lived in Lorsette all my life, I'll figure it out eventually." she assured him. "You know, if you were from Europe it would be ok that you're a murderer. Europeans are raised differently because they have a different culture so I'm not supposed to judge them if they act in strange ways."
[attr="class","ayab-text"]Ziya barely noticed the signs of Zephyr's anxiety, but as he finished talking and a silence fell between them she felt the need to fill it with words. "I agree! A great choice. A Great, Gatsby choice..." She smiled slightly at her own admittedly terrible attempt at a joke. [break][break] "Oh, fantasy is good! Did you see that they're making a tv series off of that Narnia series? They don't really need one, they already have the movies but," she shrugged. She had never really been interested in the series, but she knew that a lot of people were. To her they were just a bit too boring. Why did people need to have both books and movies anyway? Both were way too long for her to sit through anyway. [break][break] "So what's so important about insights into the past anyway?" she asked, not noticing the complete shift from what she'd been talking about the previous moment. "It's all a bunch of sad dead people. Well a lot of dead people. I suppose some of them are probably still alive... But then you could just ask them. And they probably prefer the present. In the present there are more puns. And food! There are a lot of foods now that weren't a thing before." Ziya paused for a moment then reflected on her words and cringed. "Oh wait! That might have seemed rude! I didn't mean- I mean I don't think it's wrong to have an interest in the past or anything!"
Ziya crossed her arms over her chest as the hatchet man questioned her sudden pause. ”It’s nothing,” she assured him, her gaze travelling the horizon for any sense of which way was north. She couldn’t see far enough through the fog. She was going to be so late and then she’d get in trouble and she didn’t really want to get in trouble. ”I just have absolutely no idea where we are.” She shrugged and continued forward down the larger road with a confidence she in no way deserved. For all she knew she could be going in the complete opposite direction. But as long as she was moving she was sure she’d find something familiar. Lorsette wasn’t that large, right? [break][break] Without missing another bear she continued their conversation from before they’d stopped. ”Also it wasn’t a morbid question, it was a serious one. I don’t really care what side you’re on, they’d both say the same things. Claiming their fighting for glory and what’s right or whatever. Really though the AP wouldn’t have grown to be what it is and recruited so many fighters if they hadn’t been facing similar rising numbers from the TRS all these years. It just builds, nothing ever gets fixed. Not through fighting.” She hadn’t been raised with much influence by the two organisations and she didn’t really understand the entirety of the thread the AP possessed, but she felt pretty confident in her logic. ”In history class they taught us that the only people who profit from wars are the ones selling the weapons or the third army that sweeps in after the first two have worn themselves out. So you shouldn’t die for a cause that’s only going to keep throwing peoples lives away. It seems like a pointless way to go.” She tilted her head slightly to the side and considered the matter more carefully. ”Personally I’d like to die doing something fun. Or at least having lived that way. But not yet though!” she hurriedly added the last sentence with a sideways glance at the potential murderer. There was no need to give him any ideas.
[attr="class","ayab-text"]Ziya rarely second guessed herself. She had the tendency to jump in headfirst without caring-or noticing-what anyone else thought. In fact, she barely noticed the hesitance behind Zephyr’s response or the annoyance of the retreating Parker. "Well good is much better than bad!" she replied decidedly. [break][break] Ziya hesitated as the other boy moved to pull out a chair for her. "Thank you," she smiled and sat down, putting her notebook on the desk and idly fidgeting with her pencil. [break][break] "Nice to meet you Zephyr! My name’s Ziyanda but basically everyone just calls me Ziya." she introduced herself, then focused on his question. The project seemed simple enough, but it required actual reading which seemed like it had the potential to be a lot of work. "Um let’s see. Anything by Shakespeare is good. Gatsby wouldn’t be too bad either. Oooorrr…" she scanned the list one more time for any options that stood out to her as not being too boring, "Animal Farm maybe? I don’t know, I’m not super picky I just don’t want to do any of the war centred books. Or Heart of Darkness. That one sucks too." she wrinkled her nose. [break][break] She scanned the list one more time before looking up at Zephyr. "Have you got any preferences? You seem like someone who would read a lot, what sort of genre do you like? Oh and movies? What sort of movies do you like? Or, more importantly, what sort of movies do you not like?" She wasn't entirely aware of her own babbling or the fact that it brought them off topic mere moments after they'd gotten on topic.
[attr="class","ayab-text"]Ziya was excited to go into school that day. There was a group project in her literature class and she always loved a good group project. She knew other people hated them, but she had never understood why. They were the perfect combination of school and socialization. Not that she really liked the school part, but it was a good scaffolding to meeting new people and talking about new things. [break][break] By the time she made it to her Literature class and her teacher turned them loose to chose their own partners (even better!) Ziya was basically bouncing at the edge of her seat. Almost immediately after they were released she was distracted chatting with a friend. She paused their conversation as she spotted a guy watching them, or her friend to be specific. "Ooooh, looks like someone else is interested in working with you," she mused with a wry smile, motioning to the onlooker. [break][break] Her friend glanced back before shaking her head. "But you-" she began hesitantly, a train of thought Ziya refused to let her continue. [break][break] "Go, go, there's plenty of people for me to work with." She waved off the notion and began looking around for someone else. The classroom was filled with familiar faces, but a lot of them had already buddied up. She hesitated before her eyes landed on the shy kid in the back of the class and a a guy she knew to be a jerk conversing with him. [break][break] She approached them without bothering to gauge the tone of their interaction. "Hey Parker!" she greeted, then cast a glance towards the shy guy, ignoring the increasing pace of her heart as she did so. Her gaze quickly turned back to Parker. "Are you trying to steal my partner here?" [break][break] "Doesn't really seem like he's your partner, Ziya." Parker scoffed, "Come on, homeschool and I are buds, right?" [break][break] Ziya wrinkled her nose. It was pretty easy to lie to her most of the time, but she wasn't buying this charade for a moment. "I have never once seen you talk to him. Oh! But you know who's not here today that I know for a fact would love to work with you? Liz! She's smart enough to help you pass and she's not enough of a goodie two shoes to report you for being a bad partner. Just don't be mean to her or I'll be mad at you." [break][break] As far as Ziya was concerned the conversation was over so she turned to the silvery haired boy and ignored whatever else the bully lurking nearby had to say. "So, how's it going partner?" she asked brightly.
[attr="class","ayab-text"] Ziya was glad that the man didn’t question her demand for him to accompany her home. He may have been big and scary, but for the moment it didn’t seem like he planned on using that bigness or scariness against her. For all she knew there may have been other clowns or masked men lurking around and she didn’t know what she’d do if another one jumped out. [break][break] As she led them forward, Ziya didn’t bother looking back. She felt confident he’d follow. ”Riley Chauffeur…” she pondered carefully. ”No, I don’t believe that’s your real name.” she shook her head. It simply wasn’t possible for a bit scary masked man to have a name like that. ”Riley is a girl’s name. I know several girls named Riley, but no guys.” she elaborated decidedly, but then something else popped up in her mind. ”Oh but wait! In Europe don’t they use Mackenzie as a guy’s name? Are you from Europe hatchet man?” she glanced back at him for a moment but didn’t give him a chance to reply before continuing on. ”Also why would it help your case that you’re with the TRS? That’s one of the groups that does all the war stuff, right? War’s bad. It makes a lot of people die. Are you going to die? Whether you’re a murdering hatchet man or not you seem nice. You don’t deserve to die. No one does I think. Except maybe my brother when he steals my pizza but even then not really.” [break][break] Unaware of her rambling, Ziya finally paused as she came to an intersection and didn’t know which direction to pick. If she kept going forward it was a nice open street, versus turning left into an questionable looking alley. She could remember turning recently but she didn’t remember going down any narrow alleys. ”Uuuhhhhh…..” she muttered, coming to a complete stop as she tried to decide.
[attr="class","ayab-text"] Ziya had always been good at staving off feelings like guilt and shame, but for some reason in this situation she felt like she was being consumed by the two emotions. They were all she had to focus on as her father’s silence loomed over her like some sort of palpable tension. She didn't know what she could possibly do to make the feeling go away. [break][break] Instead of saying anything and digging the hole any deeper, she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt for the duration of the car ride, her eyes fixated on the LED lit clock on the dashboard. By the time they arrived, the school day was officially over and most students had dispersed, eager to get away from the mundanity they were forced to endure day after day. [break][break] She followed him dutifully through the school, but as she did her mind wandered to what was about to come and her heart rate began to speed up. As they neared the front office, her footsteps fell short. ”Dad, if they do have the security tape,” she began hastily, then hesitated and glanced down at her feet, ”I don’t want to see it.” She was friends with most of the people at her school. She knew that among those friends were a few mean people, and she knew that odds were it was one of them that had committed the crime she was being blamed for. She did not want to have to face the fact that it was one of them. She would be much happier being able to pretend it could have been anyone. ”I-I want to wait outside. Or something.” [break][break] She was sure that in the moment the request would only serve to make her look more guilty, but she didn’t care. She would rather just accept whatever came than know that one of her friends, the people she spent time with and trusted and knew, would ever intentionally do anything that might hurt her. She almost wished she had committed the crime so she could know for certain that the alternative was impossible.
[attr="class","ayab-lyrics"]be as you've always been
[attr="class","ayab-tagged"]for @//
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[attr="class","ayab-text"] Ziya didn’t quite understand hatchet man’s indignant anger. He had killed someone in front of her. His reasoning didn’t justify anything, right? She flinched back as her drew his blade in an attempt to prove some sort of innocence. At his indication she glanced behind him to find that he has, indeed, magically made the corpse vanish. That would certainly make it harder to prove he’d done anything. But it wasn’t like she had to prove it to anyone, they were the only ones around and they had both witnessed the same thing. He couldn’t gaslight her into thinking otherwise.
[break][break]
Instead of trying to actually sort through what hatchet man was saying, Ziya brushed it off as a sorry attempt at an excuse and rolled her eyes. ”No, I’ve seen a terror before, they don’t look like clowns,” she shook her head. ”But everyone knows only villains wear masks. You’re probably just trying to trick me.”
[break][break]
She had more to say on the subject, but she paused as her phone buzzed and frowned at the time. Her parents would be expecting her home any any minute and she didn’t even know how far in the wrong direction she’d gone. If she got grounded because the murdering masked dude distracted her she would be pissed. [break][break] ”Look, hatchet man, I really have to get home or I’ll get in trouble so can you argue whether you do or do not plan on killing me while we walk?” She didn’t give him much time to debate before choosing a random direction and beginning to walk with a completely unearned confidence, figuring she’d find something she recognised eventually no matter which way she went. If the hatchet man was going to kill her there wasn’t much she could do about it, but it seemed like she was safe for the moment anyway.
[attr="class","ayab-text"]As the clown guy began approaching, Ziya's heart thundered in her chest. She didn't know what was going to happen, but something in the clown's expression warned her it wouldn't be good. She needed to run. Or to throw something. Or to do anything. But she couldn't. [break][break] Suddenly there was something else going on. A man in a mask had joined the fray and he was attacking the clown. Wide eyed, Ziya ignored what the man said and took a few steps towards the chaos to grab her phone. She was supposed to call the cops when two people started fighting in an ally way right? Especially when one of them had nasty looking weapons. By the time her shaking hands began dialing, the fight was over and the intruder was focusing his attention on her. [break][break] She readjusted her bookbag over her shoulder as she backed away from the scary hatchet man. Her instincts were screaming even louder for her to flee. "Safe?" she asked incredulously. She was pretty sure when she was taught not to talk to strangers, this was the type of person that was being referred to. "I have no idea where I am, there are very few people around, and you still have blood on your big blade thingy from the murder you just did. Who the hell do you think you are? You just killed a guy because he looked scary! Who does that?!" [break][break] She paused, realizing she'd raised her voice at the hatchet man. "I-I don't want to be made dead too." she stuttered, taking another half a step back. She'd seen how fast he'd moved. If she tried to outrun him she didn't think she would make it very far. Maybe she could throw water in his face. It wouldn't do much to hurt, but she knew for a fact that when people had water thrown in their face it made them pause.
[attr="class","ayab-text"]Today Ziya had decided to walk home instead of taking the bus. It wasn't a super uncommon decision for her, especially on misty days like this one. When she was sitting on a bus or in a car looking out the window she was usually fine, but fog always felt like it was closing in around the bus and trapping her inside. None of her friends would be riding it on that particular day so it wasn't like she could distract herself by talking to them either. [break][break] She had texted her parents that she'd be walking, then promptly put in earbuds and began drowning out her thoughts with the noise. She didn't pay much attention to where she was going as she passed through the humid embrace of the mist. It was only a matter of minutes before her phone buzzed and she pulled it out to see a message from a friend. A grin stretched her face as she missed the turn she was supposed to take and began typing a response. [break][break] As she continued moving, she was ignorant to the growing chill in the air or the sudden absence of people around her. At lease she was until a noise cut through her music, accompanied by what looked like a human form near the edge of her vision. She paused her walking, but her attention remained fixed on her phone. "Uhm... Hold on for just one moment," she muttered, finishing what she was typing and hitting send before glancing up. The sight that greeted her didn't make much sense at first. [break][break] In front of her eyes a glob of angry looking smoke was shifting into a bloodied up version of a clown. She yelped and dropped her phone, stumbling a few steps back. She knew she could continue to retreat, but her heart was pounding in her chest and she couldn't get enough breath to actually do anything. "Leave m-me alone," she managed to stutter out.
Lately I find myself wondering how I’ve been able to make I through my life smiling and acting as though everything was perfect whether it was or not. Part of it, I suppose, was a naive belief that things were perfect. It was denial. Nothing is ever perfect and all the pretence is getting so exhausting. Why should I care if the world thinks I like who I am? No one else should be able to force me to hide my feelings, and yet I had so much more experience with smiling and shrugging off any pain that I’m not sure I would know how to address the problems in my life even if I tried.
It is easier in any given moment to play along than to let people worry. Even the idea of letting people worry doesn’t make sense to me. It would be so selfish of me. I have a good life with a good family and a school full of friends I genuinely love. The fact that I don’t feel good enough for all of my fortune isn’t something I should be complaining about, not when I know other people have far more serious problems.
Telling others definitely isn’t the way to go. I don’t need their help to fix myself. I know exactly what’s wrong and I am perfectly capable of changing it… I think. I’m not sure. I just have to eat less or work out more without drawing attention to myself, which should be simple enough. I have never been good at keeping secrets though, nor have I been good at doing things that are hard. But this feels different. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I feel… I’m not sure. Determined? I’ve never really been able to stick to things that weren’t fun before, so it’s almost like I’ve decided I have to do this to prove to myself that I can.
Aahhhhh on a more positive note, school was great today! I went and I paid attention and everything! We’re doing Shakespeare in my English class and I’ve always liked Shakespeare. I’m not sure why everyone else in the class seems to hate him. He used big fancy words that were so pretty and there are so many puns. I guess maybe some people really don’t like puns? Idk I’m not sure I believe that.
Anyway it’s dinner time (yay but also uuuggggh) soooo bye.
Wow today was a day. There was this puppy that I ran into during lunch and it was adoooorable. I shih tzu not, it was fur-king paw-some. And then I
Ah who am I kidding? You’re a bunch of paper bundled together, you’ve got no way of hearing me or judging me for not being all happy and jokey all the time… right? You wouldn’t do that to me?
I guess you don’t really want to hear about my problems. No one does. After all, what harm could the idle thoughts of the annoying green haired girl hold in comparison to all the people who are sad or angry or scared in the world. Even I’m not sure. I’m so lucky that I get to live my life and be so happy, but I think sometimes I am scared too.
What if I’m not good enough? What if when all the jokes are gone I don’t amount to anything compared to the rest of the world? What if I’m so blind to what everyone else thinks that I can’t see what’s obviously in front of me? I’ve always liked myself but what if that’s wrong? When I’m looking in the mirror I see me, but actually paying attention to what other people see I don’t think it’s quite right. I eat so much and those pounds… well I hadn’t really noticed them before but they’re there. And even noticing it I don’t know that I can do anything about it. I’ve never had any real amount of self control, especially not when it comes to eating or exercising.
I don’t know. It’s silly. I can tell I’m overthinking things, but I don’t know how to stop. Sometimes it’s like my mind runs at a hundred miles per hour and there’s no stopping it, even when it switches from all the happy funny things to the things that I don’t want to pay attention to. I wish there was a way to turn it all off. That would make everyone happier.
I know you didn’t offer a penne for my thoughts, sorry for spa-getting all heavy on you, I’m pasta-tive things will be alright. After all, I’m gonna get farfalla all these puns, no matter how much they pesto you. Pasta la vista!
[attr="class","ayab-text"]Ziya paused in her step as her father started talking. He was so logical about it, but she didn't want rationality. She wanted to hold onto the anger boiling up inside of her. Why did his argument have to make so much sense? Maybe she should have just done something wrong, then she would understand his more rational arguments. [break][break] She took a breath and forced the anger down. She had plenty of experience doing that, but this time was different. This time she couldn't shrug it off with a joke and a wry smile. She would just get in more trouble if she did that. She turned around and started walking back towards the car. "I don't know how I can be certain I've done nothing wrong when everyone keeps telling me I have," she muttered shakily. "But I know I've never once in my life used spray paint." [break][break] She eyed the car, still not sure she wanted to get in. She was still feeling claustrophobic from being stuck in that stupid cell. Nonetheless, she squared her shoulders and tugged on the handle, only to find that it was still locked. She turned to glance back at Adonai.
[attr="class","ayab-text"]Ziya heard her father speaking after her and his words struck like knives. He was usually so cool and rational. If he didn't believe her, then maybe she was guilty in some way she didn't understand. After all, what did it matter what she'd actually done if everyone around hew decided she was in the wrong? If there was no way to prove the truth then maybe, as far as the world was concerned, it just wasn't true. Regardless of her anger, she didn't respond as she brushed past him out of the building. [break][break] It wasn't long before he followed her out. She shouldn't have expected him to leave her alone, he was her ride after all, but she didn't want to see him or talk to him. She brushed aside the tears welling in her eyes before whirling on him. "No, you won't." she replied coldly. "I can find my own way back to the school." She didn't know how to process her anger at her father, but she knew being locked in a car with him wouldn't help. He'd been mad or disappointed in her before, but it had never been without it's reasons. She could deal with it when he was right. She couldn't deal with him thinking she was really a bad person. [break][break] "I don't care what you believe, ok? I get that this is my mess because of some insanely twisted scenario, but that doesn't mean I have to do it your way, especially when your way is clearly decided under false pretenses." She wanted that to be true. She didn't want it to matter what her father thought of her. But looking at him she knew it wasn't, so she turned away and began walking further into the parking lot. She knew the general direction back to the school and once she got close she'd be able to pull up directions on her phone.
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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.
