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.
Smoke spiralled out from gaped lips as another puff was inhaled and released. In the darkness of a summer's evening, the glow of the burning death stick signalled Barley's location. Earlier in the day, the higher-ups informed the seraphim that he would be attending a mission with another individual who went by the alias Cyanic. Behind the alias was a man by the name of Ravi, the limited information only provided a name and alias. Nonetheless, Barley went along with everything the Assembly of Phantoms threw his way.
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A soft grumble escaped the seraphim's lips as he shuffled his shoulders. The ginger-haired soldier had arrived early, his mind going through the mission. A TRS supporter was preparing to make a large donation to the Terror Response Syndicate and to hinder the opposing organization, they would be charged with murdering him and robbing the funds. Hampering the TRS support system meant crippling them in future endeavours. The individuals coordinating the mission made it clear that success meant assuring the Assembly would struggle in remaining on his feet.
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Smoothly, Barley flicked the ashes of his cigarette onto the dirt. Briefly, they flickered in the darkness, floating down to the ground as the heat was snuffed out. The soldier held no qualms about accomplishing the mission ahead. The existence of the Assembly of Phantoms was an Elysium for the seraphim. Without the organization, Barley would have remained in the cramped cage with bars bracing against his skin and needles forced into his flesh... Daily abuse would have proceeded, hesitation nonexistent as the cruel wardens happily tested their twisted concoctions.
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Gradually, the cigarette dissipated into meagre ash as the edge greeted his fingers. The heat of the lit cancer stick tickled his fingers, pain nonexistent because of his species. A sigh breezed through the seraphim's lips as he cast the cigarette to the ground. His foot stomped out the ambers as his body pulled away from Ivory Fortress' walls. Undoubtedly, the pair would be leaving once his partner arrived. Hastily, Barley's hands felt over his body, fingers playing over the daggers around his hips to assure everything was in order.
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The daggers were entirely emergency for Barley. The seraphim's preference to use the intense heat of his fire manipulation was evident in his fighting style. Intense speed mingled with fire and swinging daggers was a fatal combination, making the seraphim a frightening force to anybody opposed. This evening, he would play the role of the monster as the Assembly of Phantoms expected and rain hell down upon their enemies. He owed the organization his life and freedom, thus, he would gladly oblige to stealing those aspects from others to maintain his well-being.
[attr="class","xion002e"] Tags: Ravi Abner [break] Words: 488 [break] Notes: N/a, must be short
Holding a meagre height of approximately 5’9”, Barley is neither short nor tall in stature. It leaves him a man capable of blending in without hesitation. As a seraphim, Barley maintains a slender, however, people should maintain wariness. Beneath his thick garbs is a body filled with lean muscles and even a torso built with soft ab lines. Ultimately, Barley can deliver a nasty punch to anybody lacking the defense of enhanced durability. Notably, Barley’s knuckles are covered in scars of varying sizes, some appearing to formerly be from scrapes. Across his fair complexion are mazes of scars from his dark history. Some are more noticeable, particularly those created from so-called combat-practices. These leaves many longer, pale marks across his back. These tend to be lighter than his skin tone and rather large from years of getting injured. On his right, upper arm is a large, black tattoo of the number 13 in Roman numerals.
A face filled with sharper angles peers from the hood and scarf that hide his faces. While his cheekbones are not high to the points of gorgeousness, it manages to lead down into a sharp jawline and chin with a semi-rounded point. From his face comes a pointed nose with a soft upturn and about average length. Swamping his head are semi-messy ginger locks, all short in length. His thick locks lead down into semi-long bangs, a portion being swiped over his eyes. Most enchanting of Barley’s facial features are his emerald coloured eyes peering out from his semi-long bangs. In light, they shine like precious gems and attract a lot of people who tend to be drawn to them.
Fixated on keeping himself covered, Barley wears plenty of clothing during both work and off hours; the latter being from lack of options. Frequently, he wears long-sleeved shirts and thick pants. Occasionally, he wears a vest-like shirt that has a high collar and is of a green colour. Most of his clothing maintains dark colours to avoid detection during his work. Most renown of Barley’s clothing is the forest green cloak and scarf he wears in all his missions. From his wings, Barley can spawn a pair of wings that shine an amber glow.
Fire Manipulation -- Mastered The ability to control fire, allowing the user to manipulate and create flames. When the time arrived to become a soldier, he was trained heavily in fire manipulation. Without hesitation, Barley can force flames to move, even multiplying them to cause genuine fire storms. While large-form manipulation causes Barley to tire quicker and require more focus, he is frightfully capable. In addition, Barley can multiple and create flames, allowing him more to work with to assure he can accomplish devastating attacks. From flames, Barley can create weapons, fire balls and protective walls. As expected, Barley can increase and diminish flames, allowing him to make large burning fires to protect himself and snuff out the raging flames. Though, as expected of fire, water is a severe weakness. It can douse out the flames and should Barley be soaked, his flame creation abilities are null.
Enhanced Speed -- Advanced The ability to move at enhanced speeds, allowing the user to move faster than the average individual. As an individual whose skills aim towards evasion and eradication, Barley is fixated on the stealth perspective of his job. He best operates as an assassin, therefore, his efforts get placed into those categories with the intentions of keeping himself sharp. He can run fast and move individual limbs, allowing him to overwhelm his opponents or to accomplish one, quickly-timed and lethal blow to the individual in question. This ability allows him to get from Aria to Lorsette within minutes and can even be occasionally used to make his reaction speed more quick-timed. Though, the overlaying flaw is how his muscles handle overuse. If over-exerted, Barley can face severe exhaustion and possibly risk stiffness to his muscles. Furthermore, he will be affected by momentum, meaning there are risks that arise with using the ability. Failure to pay attention can result in him paying the price of scrapes and bruises.
Wing Manifestation -- Advanced The ability to summon a pair of wings, since the user is a seraphim, these wings will glow a faint amber hue. Summoned for protection or flight, Barley has learned to summon his glorious pair of wings since his recruitment as a soldier. In approximate 15 seconds, Barley can summon his large wings, the pair being capable of lifting him off the ground. The process is fortunately painless, however, does take time because of the manifestation. When manifested, Barley can fly for approximately an hour or two, less if he uses his enhanced speed during flight or is carrying another individual. Should his wings get damaged, Barley will be reduced to gliding or potentially crashing to the ground. From there, his wings will disappear and cannot be summoned until completely healed.
Force Fields -- Advanced The ability to summon force fields, allowing the user to protect themself and others. During his soldier training, Barley learned to forge force fields in order to defend himself. While he is more capable in fire manipulation, his force fields are more durability and water resistant compared to a fire shield. When Barley creates a force field, it appears as a wall with a subtle, reddish tint to the colouring. People are unable to pass through it unless they have a variation of teleportation or phasing. There are two types of force fields Barley can create, small and large ones. Smaller ones take less energy and are more durable, however, they arrive with the trade off of covering less area. Larger ones, while capable of efficient coverage, are oftentimes less durable and take more energy to maintain durability. While this ability has protection implications, Barley has been known to create force fields to block exits or trip opponents. These force fields cannot be moved unless Barley has hand contact with.
Blessing -- Beginner/Unused The ability to bless others, allowing the user to bestow minor enhances upon the person. As a solo fighting unit, Barley is clueless about how to use his blessings. Furthermore, he was never taught, making the ability unused and dormant. Should he attempt, Barley would face a massive energy drain which can leave him forced stationary for longer than he would care for.
Healing -- Beginner/Unused The ability to restore biological constructs and remove sickness from others. In an attempt to assure control over Barley, the individual experimenting on him refused to allow Barley to learn healing. Thus Barley refuses to use this ability because of the frightful memories it arrives with. Should he try, Barley would feel extremely tired.
Naturals: Fire Immunity, Immortality
backstory
Trigger Warning: Torture, Experimentation, Physical/Mental/Emotional Abuse, Mentioning of Drug Abuse, Violence & Other Dark Themes
you’re nothing, but a slave to their choices.
Happiness, a seemingly nonexistent concept beyond the grasps of his bruised and cut fingers. Birthed into a family of questionable moral standing and furthermore, a general lack of care towards their children, Barley lived the harsh life. He was a secret, his mother never attending the prenatal appointments and furthermore picking a natural birth to avoid obsessive paperwork and the requirements of doctors. Never once had care entered the minds of his neglectful parents, rather, they busied themselves with the high hiddened in the tip of a needle. Every memory Barley held of the cruel pair consisted of them ruining their own lives with the artificial happiness brought upon themselves. Genuine addicts, unable to care for a child remotely. As a baby, Barley was fortunate to forge through life and survive the years of his youth. That his parents occasionally obliged him with subtle attention to sait his immediate needs. Perhaps, somewhere inside their darkened hearts they feared the notion of killing a child by their hands... or rather they wished to avoid the unleashment of the law upon their pitiful lives.
Through his toddler years, he remembered crying from clumsily hitting the table and merely receiving a shout of SHUT THE FUCK UP rather than comfort. A majority of Barley’s years were spent within the walls of their cramped home, a secret of their parents. Merely given a first name and an expectation to stay quiet. At times, the toddler cried in silence, wondering why his parents even kept them. Always he felt lonely, rejected and unimportant to the pair of addicts spending their time in the living room. In filth he lived, rarely getting bathed and often being inflicted with lice. Additionally, his body was malnourished, the young child being required to hurry in stealing food and devouring it. He would receive punishment for it, consistent with hitting and finger-shaped bruises, but it was worth it to avoid death’s cold grasp. Though, little did Barley know his childhood was merely the beginning of the horrible circumstances arriving to ruin his days.
As he grew older, Barley possessed educational delays. Never was he turned over to the school system, rather, he was locked inside the house. A growing child tired because of malnourishment and general lack of care. He lacked a proper bed, frequently only taking a few hours of sleep on the couch when his parents passed out. The items inside their home were disappearing, being pawned off in the name of furthering their drug addictions. He already knew eventually, the couch would be gone and he would be reduced to the dirty floor. Inside the house, the scents were atrocious and stomach wrenching for anyone not already residing in the unfortunate structure. Heat was gone, leaving a depleting electric bill because of the endlessly diminishing funds. Perhaps the poor conditions and endlessly shifting drugs would warrant police intervention one day, however, they were too late for Barley.
Funds were running low and his parents were growing desperate. They clothed him in his father’s filthy old hand-me-downs. He was told the trio would be going outside, and Barley, never having left the house, was hopeful. Perhaps positive changes would arrive with the shifting of these events. Excitement roamed Barley’s veins as he was removed from the house and received his first breath of fresh air. In the night, they walked together through the village of Aria, heading into a more obscure area. For once, a smile traced Barley’s lips as he strode forward through the sidewalks. He was barefoot, rocks bearing into the palms of his feet, however, Barley was unable to complain about the situation. The outside world warmed from a summer’s night, and proved better than their ugly-scented and disgusting home. Though, in the darkness and cover of trees, they whistled.
From the darkness stepped a man, a grin across his face. Words left the man’s mouth as he cheered about his parents bringing him and how he would finally be able to complete his... experiments. Plasticy paper was plucked from his pocket, a fat wad of mysterious papers. His eyes flickered between his parents and the man, brain churning as he attempted to figure out what was happening. Eagerly, his mother grabbed the man, releasing his arm and his mother shortly forward. Anxieties filled Barley’s stomach as a bad feeling crept over his shoulders. Normal could never define his family, though, knowing his parents were the infamous ‘bad people’, his stomach turned sour. Money in hand, his parents began walking away, ignoring him. He remembered turning to follow, then a man’s hand clasped onto his shoulder and pulled him back. A yelp left his lips, Barley hoping his parents would turn around, but they never batted an eye as the man scooped him up and carried him away. Money speaks volumes, persuasive enough to convince a sorry excuse for parents to sell their child for drug money.
From that day, Barley discovered himself living inside a cramped prison cell given to him by the man who took him. Numbed over from his past, Barley found a minor contentment with merely having a rough, hard bed. Though, the already broken child only knew the beginning of torment. Fate, in all her cruel, twisted and malicious ways brought him to the darkness. Day one started unexpectedly with the providence of breakfast and Barley hungrily wolfing down every bite. Taste hardly became a factor in his rapid consuming of food, though the aftermath was the least favourable. Plucked from his cell, Barley was taken to a small room with a single desk. Upon his entry, they secured a collar around his neck, the foolish child allowing the assumed accessory to “complete” his muted grey outfit. Though, he would be mistaken… The lesson was based upon obedience and minut learning... and if he disobeyed he received a painful static shock.
Interaction was limited, these shock lessons becoming the few times Barley learned to speak and occasionally other basic skills. Incorrect answers and actions led to electrocution, failures meant static shocks and punishment meant bad. It made Barley shaky, however, obedient to everything they accomplished to him, which would inevitably would lead to further testing. His compliance allowed them to manipulate factors as they brought him into the examination room. They offered him pills and told him to eat it, and should he show hesitance, Barley felt the sharp sting of a hand across his face. It reminded him of the drugs his parents were addicted to, the bad stuff that made them horrible. Though, with no options he slipped the pill through his lips, the bitter taste covering his tongue. Afterwards, he felt sick and horrible, writhing and crying in pain from the pill. Every second he grew weaker, vision swimming, but before he could slip into relief, everything sharpened and a deep breath could finally enter his lungs. His breath gasped, eyes widened as he breathed... they would never let him die.
Every day, pain lit his veins, a fire he was never immune to. Gradually, the uneducated child learned the word of his primary tormentor. Poison. A sinister creation his owner stated required thorough testing. It wreaked havoc upon him in different methods, each twisted. At times he grew sick and vomited, other times he ceased up, his mouth foamed, his stomach burned. With his learning, the dosages began being delivered through the tip of a need. The silvery tip summoned sickening emotions. Anxiety flooded through him, the child becoming fearful of the medical scene the longer he spent time as their test subject. They wanted to assure their poisons were effective and he was the victim. The days blurred together from consistent testing as he was strapped down and left for them to observe the effects. The amount of times he was left barely breathing, the amount of times he was left screaming, the amount of times he was left in complete pain... It was torturous. As things blurred together he saw others, tortured, weakened, and bearing numbers... and at times the ultimate punishment.
Uncertain of time passage, all Barley remembered was being strapped down and labelled. They strapped down harshly, bringing a needle to his arm. He squirmed futilely, though, he was forced to stillness. A whimper left the child’s lips as tears as he learned about his restrained situation and inability to accomplish anything to cease the discomfort. From the closet they brought an ugly machine composed of a needle tip, a single demonstration of the quick motion bringing Barley complete terror. In a questionable and painful procedure, the needle was brought to his arm, a device designed to dye his skin. The specially designed device was created to spark acute sensations of pain. Ink injected as needled burned across Barley’s skin. He sucked in a deep breath, holding it as the perpetrator revelled in every horrid second. Meagre minutes passed, yet, every tick was an anxiety-induced hour. Upon completion, he was thrown into his cramped cage, bars bearing into his skin and shoulder burning with a new mark. XII. The Thirteenth Subject. The Unwanted Number of Misfortune.
As Barley grew from childhood to adolescence, his trials only worsened. Bodies fell every single day with the white coats dumping out people as though their lives were useless. Alas, over time people searched for willing subjects to become a part of the Assembly of Phantoms. Views of their current subjects were allotted, and from the bunch, unlucky 13 was chosen. After years of torture from poison, Barley was numbed. A child tortured through his years numbed down to nothing, but a shell willing to learn for the sake of escape. From there, his sessions would train drastically to assure complete compliance with the Assembly of Phantoms. They began teaching Barley to fight, even providing an acute education to assure he could be competent on the field. Failure to accomplish what the adolescent was commanded resulted in poisons capable of bringing about terrible poison being injected in his veins. Incapability meant torture, but success meant new freedoms and expansions on his skills. Thus, Barley complied.
An individual broken down as a child discovered the escape he desperately craved. The Assembly of Phantoms wanted him, and success meant the first taste of freedom. Attempts were made to exercise in the cramped cage and eventually excelled in the fighting. His past made him hardened and cold-blooded when it came to attacking and killing. The pool of chosen ones from the group exemplified similar characteristics. Weapons were placed inside the hands of willing victims designed for war and craving escape. There were ten of them, each trained and measured in their skillfulness, though, allegedly of varying education levels. While intellect wise Barley was on the lower spectrum, the man ironically dubbed 13 managed to prove himself a worthy opponent. After years of torture, the 10 individuals were released from the custody of the scientists and handed over to the Assembly of Phantoms, and for once, Barley felt free. While he initially struggled, the young man was aided by the Assembly.
Freedom existed, yet, the young man in his clueless reverie focused on work. The outer world, while mildly explored, became work fixated. Through it all, he worked for the Assembly and proved a problematic hunter. His fear of needles caused outbursts, leaving a majority in a lynched situation of using other methods. Nonetheless, Barley worked for the Assembly, taking what he could from a world so cruel.
- Barley does not have many basic skills. While he taught himself to cook for survival, he lacks basic math skills. He is lucky he can add together two numbers, but multiplication and division are far beyond him. - Barley is scared of needles, resulting in him hating medics. He worries about being poisoned and tortured again. - His blood type is AB. - Due to the sketchy nature of his birth and upbringing, Barley never got vaccinated. Further, because of his lack of education, Barley does not understand how important it is. - Sickness makes Barley extremely anxious. He worries constantly about it being an affliction of poison because of his volatile past. - Barley’s age is not unknown because of how old he is, but rather because he does not have any proper birth records and it was never tracked. His birthday was the first day he entered the experimentation program. His age is approximated as being mid-twenties to early thirties. - After discovering cigarettes, Barley has been known to smoke to take the edge off his thoughts.
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resource sites
affiliates
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.