Voltus_Ventus

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ᖴᑌᒪᒪ

Ugh, I'm sorry it's such a late reply, it had slipped my mind for a day or two. Thankfully with my horrible jet lag, I've managed to stay up to 4am and get something together!

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ᖴᑌᒪᒪ

Martin Lowry

It was in the horrible pit of his stomach did Martin realize he could die. The second wing had become detached and the body of the plane nosed forwards towards the bottom of the dark ocean. Martin assessed the situation, alert eyes darting about. He was still buckled in, That will not do., the emergency oxygen mask floated in front of him, bubbles occasionally burping out if he yellow cup. Bubbles.. To Martin's knowledge the plane was now completely submerged. Hands like spiders felt for the belt around his waist, the slowly growing heat in his chest a reminder that the air in his lungs was only good for so long. The belt fell apart with little effort and Martin pushed himself forwards towards the bobbing yellow mask, drifting towards it. The odd sensation of weightlessness reminded him of the astronauts he saw on the television. Taking the mask in his many fingered hand, Martin tugged it firmly towards himself and brought it around his mouth and nose, tightening it on either end. For the first few moments of air he struggled with water, but once cleared he looked about himself and breathed normally.

There were several blown out escape doors, however the closest exit was a few seats ahead of him, a large gash in the airplane fuselage that let in a guttering amber glow. In the overhead compartment Martin's bag bobbed about, no doubt every bit as soaked as the rest of the plane. But wet things dried. Martin moved out of his seat, climbing over the unfortunate passenger that sat beside him before being able to reach his bag. As he did the plane let loose another pained groan and the gnarly gash in the ceiling of the cabin began to claw its way around the plane. Like a bottle shattering around its circumstance the rend in the aluminium body moved around the plane and joined up with itself as it wrapped around. With a low grown the front of the plane began to lurch downwards, pulling the rest of the body with it before the nose and cockpit tore off and fell away, exposing the dark ocean below. The rest of the plane, or at least the rest of the plane that he could see, nodded forwards and began to follow the cockpit in a steepening downward dive.

Martin moved swiftly, getting to the surface as fast as possible was part of his naval training, incase he had ever been posted to a submarine. Martin slipped out of the plane silently, and went straight up, kicking behind him and blowing a steady stream of bubbles as he moved. In front of him, or above him, an orange light flickered and danced. At first Martin thought it was sunlight playing through particularly patchy clouds, but the closer he got he realized that it was burning aviation fuel. Martin paused and looked about, a tightness growing in his chest as he felt himself becoming breathless. Looking around him he was dismayed to find that that the surface above him was ablaze, if he surfaced he would probably be burned badly; if he didn't he would drown. His calm demeanor quickly melted away as his looking around became frantic. But as if by providence there was a dark patch in the field of amber glow, and he swam to it as quick as he dared. A few meters from the surface his body took over and allowed in a deep breath of briny water. The last few paddles Martin coughed and spluttered and choked, and as he surfaced and found floating debris to cling on to, began retching sea water and whatever had filled his stomach before the accident. For a few moments he lay panting on the section of board.

Then Martin started to laugh.

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ᖴᑌᒪᒪ

I've finally arrived home after a lot of trouble, so I'm gonna start tearing through a post. After I wake up, since it's 4am here.

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ᖴᑌᒪᒪ

I'm sorry but I don't think I'm going to be able to get a post up by the 17th, I'm heading to the airport as we speak and I'm gonna be in transit and stuff for a while.

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ᖴᑌᒪᒪ

I'm my God. I'm sorry that it's so short! I hadn't realized until I posted it!

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ᖴᑌᒪᒪ

Martin Lowry

The air contains water, though in small fractions, it is water nonetheless. Thusly one can consider the sky an extension of the ocean, if that brings them a certain comfort as they would have if they were on a boat for example. It certainly did for Martin. His pen danced over slightly yellow paper, leaving scrawls unreadable except by his own eyes, like those old dusty diaries used as primary sources when referencing a particular piece of writing. And just as each depth of the ocean has a name, each height of the sky too has a label attached to it, Troposphere, Mesosphere, Exosphere, etc. So I can say with great certainty, and much to my own comfort, that the sky is the ocean and I am safe to enjoy this flight. Closing the book with the pen stuck between the pages and dropping it into his lap, Martin looked out of the plane and felt the knot in his stomach loosen a little. But not disappear. Some things do not change so easily I suppose.

The spritzer tinkled on one hand and the tip of his cigarette glowed in the other hand, in recent years airlines had been curbing the amount of planes they allowed smoking on, a practice that Martin considered bothersome and thusly he was doubtful of its longevity. Still however he found his transatlantic options dwindling with every cigarette. He crushed the glowing head of the burned away stick into the metal ashtray in his arm rest, twisting it one way and then the other, like turning a knife in his heart as he grieved for the negligible amount of tobacco yet unburnt at the end of the smoke. As he tipped the glass towards his mouth to take a sip a shiver ran through the spine of the plane, making his drink jump and slosh in its glass vessel. For a few moments Martin observed it, and once the plane stilled brought the glass yet even closer to his mouth, cautiously eyeing it and feeling the motion of the plane around him.

Sailing a ship had taught him that the vessel itself spoke more than the sky and even the sea. The waves and the wind could only speak the blatantly obvious, but the labored groans of a mast and the invisible tensions in ropes and boards spoke more deeply of what was to come. The plane spoke in foreshadowing tones of things to come, every thread of its being was being pulled tight in all directions outwards, Martin felt it in chilling clarity before every sudden jerk. Like watching a crack wind it's way randomly through a plane of glass. The fuselage of the plane shrieked as a sudden amber flash consumed the evening outside the window, and the plane lurched to the right as a shred rippled through the plane. A wing torn off. The plane began to nose down and lose altitude quickly. The Sky is not like The Ocean. The Sky is not like The Ocean Martin shrieked in his head as he gripped his hand rests, fighting the weightlessness as the clouds zoomed past in a brief instant.

As the ocean drew near the front of the fuselage tore open, the smell of sea water and smoke flooding the cabin. Martin propped his legs up on the seat in front of him and leaned his head forwards, adopting a bizarre version of the brace position. Before the airplane struck water Martin muttered to himself, "Well isn't this pleasant."

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ᖴᑌᒪᒪ

<Snipped quote by December>

Awesome!

Just gonna do a quick role call- we're waiting on posts, and hope to see some soon!@Damo021@Voltus_Ventus@FantasyChic

@Caits

I'm working on one, but it's been hectic over here and Internet is scarce. I'll try harder to get it done though.

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ᖴᑌᒪᒪ

I'm not sure how to slot myself in, do I need someone to talk to? Or do I go through why I'm on the plane?

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ᖴᑌᒪᒪ

"As for me, I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts."

General Information

                                                                
Name: Martin Lowry

Nicknames: Marty

Gender: Male

Age: 27

Birthday: 3rd of October

Distinguishing Features: Martin has a crisp and clear Scottish accent spoken with a high register of English, he rarely swears and often scorns others for doing it. Martin was also born with an extra finger on each hand, the black gloves he normally wears often obscure this but if one were paying attention to his hands they would notice the dastardly added fingers. On the left side of his head, at the rear, he has a deepish, corner shaped wedge missing, though mostly obscured by hat and hair it can still be seen by people walking behind him.

Relationship Status

Relationship Status: Single

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Partner: None

Father: Michel Lowry

Mother: Minnie Lowry

Siblings(Age Order): Maud (16), Mary(16), Meredith(14), Maxine(11).

Pets: A black and white cat back home named Margret.

Personal Details

Personality: The Shetland islands had never been populated thoroughly, and even less so when Marty was a boy growing up there. He spent much of his time standing at cliffs' edges and staring off into space; or helping his father with his work that he always insisted was of the most paramount importance; or sitting in front of his mother, who was coincidentally his home school teacher. The combination of isolation, willingly accepting orders and thorough teaching have made him a strange individual; he takes to orders naturally and completes them with speed and competence, however once drawn into his work - or anything - Marty is unresponsive and distant, often to the vexation of the people around him. Despite this he has the charm that comes from being totally oblivious.

His gullibility aside, Martin stands on high moral ground whether consciously or by virtue of his nature, helping people who needed help or didn't know they needed help as first nature. As such he has been the focus of criticisms and cruel jokes, and the attention of woman who found him sweet. Though none of the relationships went through as he was prone to ramble when anxious or nervous, being around a large amount of people let alone women made him very nervous indeed. Most of this has died away though it is something that still happens from time to time. Though if that's a product of him being nervous or in another dimension is something entirely. He is not opposed to a bit of fun, though his idea of fun isn't really compatible with that of most people, but his default mode tends to lead him to sitting about and day dreaming for leisure. He appears quite boring in that respect.

Despite his air-headed demeanor, Marty is grounded firmly, knowing his own limits and existing within the realms of utility as opposed to frivolousness.

Likes: Lists, Machines, Toast, The Occasional Cigarette, Books, The Ocean, Birds, Children and Adolescents.

Dislikes: Swearing, Drinking, Womanizing, Having His Things Rearranged.

Biography: Martin Ahab Lowry was born to a couple who claimed to be estranged relatives of Queen Elizabeth, from the very nature of his parents it would seem that his childhood would be odd if not turbulent. Michel Lowry was an esteemed biologist, working under the patronage of the Royal Society of Science in the United Kingdom; he was given grants to travel across the empire and catalogue new creatures, with his specialization being in birds and marine invertebrates. His mother on the other hand was a parish teacher, daughter of a parish priest from the north of England, the marriage had been one of utility, she needed a husband to secure her future well-being and Michel desired a wife to pass on his genetics.

Martin and his mother lived on a remote island in The Shetland Archipelago with his father, who insisted on wanting to keep his work and his family close. This remote life led to a sheltered, lonely childhood that impacted on his social skills, though the family did return to the mainland every winter as that was when the supply boat stopped its weekly visits. Despite the isolation Martin did receive a primary education thanks to his mother, though the responsibility would soon fall on his father when his mother decided to move back to the mainland after giving birth to his first sisters, Maud and Mary, some 11 years after he was born. It was safe to say that education was not the main prerogative of his father, his father wanted to keep Martin on as an assistant more than anything, and visits to the mainland became rarer as Michel brought his son with him on expeditions.

It was one faithful summer, the summer of his 15th birthday, that his father took him on an expedition to Iceland. They had been following the migratory paths of birds and documenting the changes in Island stops, shooting the occasional few to collect samples of dietary change and logging them all. It was that summer that Martin had been introduced to sailing, properly. He had always had an affinity of sorts with the sea, and naturally he found manipulating ropes and sails easy. Eldey was an island 13 miles off the south western coast of Iceland, it was a stack of stone that rose up from the ocean in sheer cliffs, with navigable ridges that lead to the plateau on top. It had occurred to his father that Eldey Island was the home of the last known specimen of Great Auk, a flightless, predatory marine bird that had existed in great numbers before humans had discovered them. Disembarking the skiff on to an inflatable raft, the pair paddled out to the shore of the island and his father lectured him on the ability of certain shaped beaks to rip and cut.

It must have felt unconceivable when it was happening but it wasn't now that it was a distant memory, in front of them was a solitary Great Auk. Possibly the last in existence. The animal had been thought to be extinct since 1900, but low and behold there it was. The next sensation struck him, as Martin gazed at the slender beast it's beady eyes looking at him from a cocked head, he felt the certain weight of metal and death in his hand. He didn't need to be asked, his father's voice, the voice of a collector and Biologist rang in his head. Make it quick. Martin stood up with the truncheon in his hand and took four strides towards it. The bird's small legs didn't stand a chance of allowing it to escape.

The bird lived on outside the glass case where it was taxidermed, at 18 Martin left the island of his father's study and joined the navy, where his fellow sailors called him Cigarettes due to the Great Auk tattooed to his shoulder. The mascot of a favorite brand of smoke amongst the sailors. There he learned the basics of social interaction, at first awkward and clumsy to talk to, but sharp when it came to commands. By the time he began to feel more comfortable talking to people he had been promoted to a point where he had his own cabin, no longer would he have to share a quarter with his piers. His employment with her majesty's navy would be short lived though, as one day he stopped under a naval gun to collect something when the recoiling body of the weapon clocked him in the back of the head. A few months in an infirmary and many electric shock therapy sections later, he was mostly better and his stutter and seizures were gone.

The government awarded the wounded officer a place in Oxford as repayment for his service and the gruesome injuries he sustained. He applied for a five year course in Marine Biology, of course, and while there he experienced his first encounters with people of the opposite gender (that were not related of course). It was there he found that he had no natural defenses against particularly charismatic people, and found himself manipulated about quiet often. That was until his second year when he started to develop a stronger social character. And a spine. To this day he has not progressed past holding hands as when it ever gets close to any significant physical contact he starts to get very nervous. Graduating first in his class, to the disgruntlement of his classmates, Marty returned to work with his father.

Frugally Martin spent the grants from The Royal Society, and in some cases cut corners that he ought to have left intact, thusly he amassed himself a princely sum. Now with all the pain he had gone through at sea, and despite his best efforts to stay away from the ocean after his brief time in the navy, he found himself once more drawn to the briny waves. And he bought a sail boat. His escapades had taken him to familiar and unfamiliar seas alike, and had left him alone with the ocean to grow intimate in both affection and wrath. And more intimate with traveling by plane to boat makers on either side of the Atlantic.

One night on one of those planes his life would change.

Plasmids

The Rainbow Plasmid

Unknown Effects

The Grey Plasmid

Unknown Effects

♆ ᗯᕮᒪᑕOᗰᕮ TO ᖇᗩᑭTᑌᖇᕮ ♆ - [ ᗷIOSᕼOᑕK ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ] - ᖇOᒪᕮᑭᒪᗩY ᖴᑌᒪᒪ

@Voltus_Ventus
Looks good, and I feel like I could make a joke here, with all the M names... Martin had four siblings.....

@Caits

Do I have a green light to post it in the character section?