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Martin Shepherd

A 'Changeling' from another Verse, Martin has had to flee his home to prevent the Unchanged finding and murdering him. His Change - large black wings - have a span of 13 feet.

0 · 387 views · located in Terra

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Cloasse

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So begins...

Martin Shepherd's Story

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#, as written by Cloasse
 With a look of determination upon his face, Martin entered the bar. Around him, he had what appeared to be a woman's long coat, and it was drawn tightly across back - his arms were not in the sleeves. Whenever he moved, it was possible to see the slightest hint of dark black feather when his ankles caused the hem of the coat to move up. The man had wings. Not your average 'fairy' wings, nor those pathetic 'angel' wings you saw on Christmas cards - honest to Jesus, man-sized wings. He had tucked them closely to his back - so much so they were feeling cramped and in desperate need of a stretch by now. His Change was nearing completion. Martin figured it would be near impossible to seat himself and hide his wings at the same time, and so he instead stood awkwardly at the bar, light blue eyes flitting about him.

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#, as written by Cloasse
Martin Shepherd noticed that there seemed to be quite a few... odd people in the bar - people who seemed too light-hearted to be being chased by the Unchanged. Did... that mean he could reveal his wings? Would they understand he had no control over their sudden appearance - up until a month ago, Martin had been a simple lawyer, still innocent from the bar. Slowly, as if waiting to see if anyone would react adversely to his wings, the man took away the woman's coat he had worn over his shoulders, revealing a bare chest (did you expect him to put a t-shirt on over the the wings?) and the large, glossy-black feathered wings. He ruffled them just enough to alleviate some of the pressure from having kept them so tight against his back, and continued watching.

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Martin Shepherd stared at Kazen for a moment, eyes widened in fear - for a minute there, he had thought the man was going to shout 'Changed!'. He drew his wings even tighter to his back, grimacing. They desperately needed to be stretched, but there wouldn't be enough room here, and he was still terrified that someone may find him.

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Martin Shepherd cleared his throat nervously - this was the first time anybody had seen him with his wings, and it was bugging the hell out of him. He had seen a centauress being dragged away, still half-changed, when he slipped out of his apartment block, and it was sheer luck tat his change had left him with the ability to walk. He cleared his throat in the hopes some of his unease would cleared away too, and tried to relax his wings, watching carefully over his shoulder as he maneuvered them into a shelter of sorts. They were still close to his body, but the edges of his wings were now past his shoulders - and it felt so good to stretch them even just that far.

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Martin Shepherd had jumped at Kazen's voice when he said 'Oi!', and his wings snapped back to their original, taut position against his back. He shook his head, taking another deep breath. This society may've been ready for him, but he was in no way ready for them. Within a few minutes, however, Martin had relaxed enough to once again recreate that odd shelter around himself, his wings curling so they did not extend too far out and knock anything (or anybody) over.

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#, as written by Cloasse
Martin Shepherd fought to keep his wings from automatically returning to what he had been keeping them in for the last two weeks; ever since they had outgrown his t-shirts. Instead, however, of doing what he expected them to do, his newly found instincts kicked in, and his wings curled even further around him, almost hiding his face. "You... you do?" Martin asked, shifting one wing enough so that he could see Kazen past the half-grown feathery freaks of nature.

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#, as written by Cloasse
Martin Shepherd moved back at Kazen's advance, the weight of wings that his chest muscles had developed at an unnaturally fast rate to accommodate still struggling to balance the man out, and he nearly fell, had it not been for the quick, half-extended beat he had naturally had his wings carry out, creating enough force to hold the man upright. "I - I can't help it if I Changed!" he squawked in mild fear. "None of us can - you're just lucky!"

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#, as written by Cloasse
 (( Fletcher! ))

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Martin Shepherd yelped, moving back from Kazen. "Wai - what?" Martin frowned, looking at Kazen unhappily, his wings coming up as if Martin were trying to make himself look as big as possible - again, another animal instinct that seemed to have come with the wings. "What the hell was that for?"

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Martin Shepherd only lowered his wings minutely, hesitating before tucking them into his bodies. "I'm not an angel," he muttered sourly. "I'm a Changeling - there have to be thousands of us, but most of them will be dead by now. The Unchanged think we're mutant, but these... things that've happened, centaurs, mermaids, birds' wings, any animal, they just happened." Another uncomfortable rearrangement of his feathers followed, his wings slumping behind his shoulders as he did so.

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Martin Shepherd folded his arms over his bare chest, only having just remembered he could not find any t-shirt to fit over his wings, nor had he had any time to actually think about making holes big enough to fit wings through. "We're not even attacking anybody - most of us are dying off because we don't eat enough, anyway, but there were a few in my apartment block - two centaurs and another winged bloke - and when I left, the winged bloke had died of starvation and the centaurs were being ripped to shreds by rioters. My wings, thankfully, were still small enough to hide." He didn't know why he was telling the odd man this - perhaps just because he had related to Martin, and Martin felt some sort of relief, getting his story off his chest.

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Martin Shepherd self-consciously tucked his wings further into his back, trying to keep them out of sight (which was difficult, considering that he was trying to compact ten foot wings into a foot of space). He decided to get off the topic of wings and vampires (those were real?) and instead introduced himself. "I'm Martin Shepherd. I'm - I was a lawyer. Not much of a lawyer, considering I only just passed my bar before my wings started to grow... but technically a lawyer."

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Martin Shepherd shook his head, giving a half-smile in return to the gesture. "Not really. I mean, I know what a mercenary is... but they've kinda died out around my area at home." Odd how that word felt so hollow, now. Marti gave an irritated shake of his head, only to nearly push himself over when his wings shook themselves out at the same time. "Holy crap," he muttered, catching himself on the edge of a table. "Whoops."

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Martin Shepherd nodded, following Kazen out of the bar with a steely-eyed gaze. Once he and his multiple mercenaries had cleared out, he returned his attention to the rest of the bar, idly stretching his arms in front of him. Or at least, he did until he noticed his wings were following the motion and had stretched a good five feet either side of him before he had realized. They were quickly drawn back to him, and Martin looked around, wondering if anyone had noticed the embarrassing (and mildly life-threatening) slip-up.

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Martin Shepherd raised an eyebrow at Syrica. "What about me?" he asked, before noticing her wings - he was slow, give him a break!. "Uh... You're a Changeling too?" She had to be - either that or one of the odd creatures in the bar. She didn't appear to be fleeing for her life, however, so he assumed it had to be the latter. "I don't have to hide them now - I'm just not used to them yet, that's all... And there might be an Unchanged lurking around here, for all I know."

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Martin Shepherd only looked at Syrica, wondering if she thought that knowing she had escaped from lockdown was reassuring to a normal guy like him. "Eh... That's... nice?" he eventually forced himself to say. Sub-consciously, his wings fluttered behind him, absently rearranging themselves in order to be a little more comfortable upon his back. "I'm Martin," the winged man added lamely, his wings extending in a semblance of a stretch - he knew that this bar was too small for the thirteen foot wingspan, or thereabouts, he held. And they weren't quite finished growing yet (some of his glossy black feathers hadn't entirely came through), and so he couldn't really go for a fly: not that he would know how to.

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Martin Shepherd has been lonered.

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Martin Shepherd entered the bar, his wings furled closely to his back, wearing a crudely cut jumper that he had struggled to get his wings through - they didn't make very wing-friendly clothes, really. A slight smile, however, was on his face. He had finally found somewhere where he didn't feel all that threatened - here, he knew that he wouldn't be murdered for having wings, at least.

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Martin Shepherd cleared his throat uncomfortably, standing at the bar in order to not make it obvious that he still had not figured out how he was supposed to sit with wings as large as his. Every so often, he twitched them just to stretch them out, to alleviate the growing want to go back to the apparently abandoned area he had found and be able to let the thirteen foot wing span finally be shown. He idly hoped he'd meet another winged person - they might be able to give him pointers on flying...

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Martin Shepherd looked at the other man who had seated himself at the bar, a curious look on his face before he turned away again. That man, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be perfectly human. Martin snorted. He knew how fast that could change.

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Martin Shepherd shifted himself, leaning down against the bar on his forearms, large wings flitting behind him as he shifted them to get a little more comfortable. "Bloody wings..." was muttered beneath his breath, and a hand went behind him to automatically smooth at dark, glossy, and (annoyingly) ruffled feathers.

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Martin Shepherd shook his head - threats aplenty today, he thought with a laugh to himself. He had had enough of the violence at 'home', where the Unchanged went around (literally) hunting the Changed. Most of them weren't even fully-changed yet, and had been dragged from their homes and hiding places half-formed and unable to run nor fight for themselves.

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Martin Shepherd shifted away from the bar - obviously the man showing off whatever magical powers he appeared to have had no sense of subtlety. Martin would have killed (perhaps) if he could hide his wings that easily. He wandered aimlessly over to Tear's booth, an eyebrow raised when he noticed there was someone sitting at it. "Hi there..." he said quietly, as if not wishing to disturb her peace.

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Martin Shepherd smiled and waved a hand, his wings automatically unfurling slightly to match the movement. "Hey there."

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Martin Shepherd shook his head, a sheepish smile on his face. "I don't really... eh... know how to sit down - I mean, I can sit down, I just dunno how to do it with the wings - they're new..." he rattled off, evidently nervous about the new limbs.