Martin Blackwood

Aspiring poet, assistant to the archivist at the magnus archives, London.

[godsstrongestpoet]

Intro

Hi, i'm Martin.

#martintalks - normal posts

#martinanswers - asks

#martinsocializes - conversations

#martinagrees - reblogs

Martin blackwood rp blog!!! My main account is @clemmies-here-too :3 This takes place around seasons 1-2 and currently pre-s1 finale

Other in universe blogs:

Pfp is art by @dekuboya I found on Pinterest, if you want me to change it ask pls 🙏

@considermeblown-up

@imgonnaquitmyjob

@reidharding

@liminally-vastly-yours

@angel-of-the-archives

@vrnorr

@zephyr-totally-not-vast-avater

@strangers-mechanic

[i-have-eyes]

also martin should get to beat the shit out of someone or something please sign the petition for martin to get violent

[godsstrongestpoet]

[there was a knock on his door. Abby, presumably; she said she was going to come over to check on him after all, and he hadn’t been to the institute in a good while…]

“Martin? You there?”

@strangers-mechanic

*The door opens after a long silence, the creak shocking Abby slightly. Behind it is Martin, but he's all wrong. Everything about him seems drawn from memory, replaced with the next best thing.

He doesn't say anything. Just looks.*

[strangers-mechanic]

[abby stares for a moment; she had been expecting something along the lines of horrible scarring or some slightly-fire-themed amalgam, not… Martin-with-a-question-mark…]

“uhm.”

[ok, ok, uh… fuck, sure, why not. She’s already friends with a spooky doll woman and crushing on… whatever Sasha is… it’s not exactly the first time she’s been met with… inhuman beings.]

“you… uhm…” [she didn’t ask if Martin was still Martin.]

“are… are you doing ok? S- so far, I mean?”

[godsstrongestpoet]

"I guess - it could be worse. I could be dead."

*He looks down at his hands and almost flinches at the memories of pain. It's wrong though. His face doesn't contort in the ways it should. He looks back up.*

"It's - good to see you."

[theinstitutesbitchig]

*You hear a knock on your door. Just one, then a pause followed by 2 more quiet knocks, like the very sound of the knock scared the person behind it.

You open the door and you see martin . Except it's not martin. This isn't the martin you fell in love with. It's like looking at a wax model, and a really grotesque one at that. You can see stitches covering his neck and you assume that they continue down the entire body. He's not breathing. He's not alive. But he's looking down at you with no expression on his face, and tears are streaming down it. His eyes are a different color.*

*It begins to try and speak. You can tell it hurts."

"dyl--an. I'm - I'm so s-sorry."

@godsstrongestpoet

I- Martin?

Dylan's not sure what he's looking at. Is this what that one anon meant by "not human"? Tears involuntarily well up in his eyes. He reaches out a hand but stops short from touching Martin's new face. He can't tell what it's made out of. Wax? Fabric? Burlap? It seemed like none of those, yet all of them simultaneously.

'Don't cry in front of Martin. Don't cry,' he thinks. The last thing he wants is to make Martin feel worse about whatever it was that he is now. He's not the same Martin, but if anyone could come close to understanding what Martin may be feeling or going through, Dylan is definitely that person. Not that he's ever been a sentient object before, but in the way of being in a body that's not quite right. Or being in a body with new modifications. He doesn't want to scare Martin. He slowly withdraws his hand and steps to the side of the doorway, silently letting the familiar stranger inside.

[godsstrongestpoet]

*Martin hesitates for a long second before walking through the door. He remembers the last time he was here, and the smell of Dylan's cooking permeated the air. He remembers falling asleep on his couch watching a movie after an amazing meal.

But those memories are distant to him, as he doesn't have a sense of smell anymore, and he doesn't sleep.

He is in pain. Or he knows he should be in pain. That's what Martin would do, and those tears are coming from somewhere. He doesn't feel the tears streaming down his face, or the feeling of his old lover's hand on his cheek. He doesn't even know what he's doing here. He should say something. Anything.

"It's rags. My skin. Dipped in wax - - and painted."

[theinstitutesbitchig]

Oh, um... good to know... I guess?

Martin's voice still sounds like Martin. Whoever made him into what he is now tried damn hard to make him look like Martin, too. The scent of tea filled Dylan's nostrils. Martin always did love tea. Could he even eat now? Drink the tea he used to love? Or was he now exempt from the few things that made being human enjoyable because of his new inhumanity?

Dylan doesn't want to think too much about it. He goes for a light joke instead.

So I guess you won't be needing that burn ointment I left on your desk, huh?

They rub the back of their neck and look away awkwardly.

[godsstrongestpoet]

"No.. I don't - I don't think I will"

*Awkward. So awkward. He has no idea what to say. Fuck this, yes he does.*

"I'm so sorry. For everything. I should have told you. You never did anything to hurt me and none of this is your fault. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[godsstrongestpoet]

Happy Valentine's Day! I brought you some tea!

-☕️

Thank you - - - - -

[godsstrongestpoet]

[there was a knock on his door. Abby, presumably; she said she was going to come over to check on him after all, and he hadn’t been to the institute in a good while…]

“Martin? You there?”

@strangers-mechanic

*The door opens after a long silence, the creak shocking Abby slightly. Behind it is Martin, but he's all wrong. Everything about him seems drawn from memory, replaced with the next best thing.

He doesn't say anything. Just looks.*

[theinstitutesbitchig]

*You hear a knock on your door. Just one, then a pause followed by 2 more quiet knocks, like the very sound of the knock scared the person behind it.

You open the door and you see martin . Except it's not martin. This isn't the martin you fell in love with. It's like looking at a wax model, and a really grotesque one at that. You can see stitches covering his neck and you assume that they continue down the entire body. He's not breathing. He's not alive. But he's looking down at you with no expression on his face, and tears are streaming down it. His eyes are a different color.*

*It begins to try and speak. You can tell it hurts."

"dyl--an. I'm - I'm so s-sorry."

@godsstrongestpoet

I- Martin?

Dylan's not sure what he's looking at. Is this what that one anon meant by "not human"? Tears involuntarily well up in his eyes. He reaches out a hand but stops short from touching Martin's new face. He can't tell what it's made out of. Wax? Fabric? Burlap? It seemed like none of those, yet all of them simultaneously.

'Don't cry in front of Martin. Don't cry,' he thinks. The last thing he wants is to make Martin feel worse about whatever it was that he is now. He's not the same Martin, but if anyone could come close to understanding what Martin may be feeling or going through, Dylan is definitely that person. Not that he's ever been a sentient object before, but in the way of being in a body that's not quite right. Or being in a body with new modifications. He doesn't want to scare Martin. He slowly withdraws his hand and steps to the side of the doorway, silently letting the familiar stranger inside.

[godsstrongestpoet]

*Martin hesitates for a long second before walking through the door. He remembers the last time he was here, and the smell of Dylan's cooking permeated the air. He remembers falling asleep on his couch watching a movie after an amazing meal.

But those memories are distant to him, as he doesn't have a sense of smell anymore, and he doesn't sleep.

He is in pain. Or he knows he should be in pain. That's what Martin would do, and those tears are coming from somewhere. He doesn't feel the tears streaming down his face, or the feeling of his old lover's hand on his cheek. He doesn't even know what he's doing here. He should say something. Anything.

"It's rags. My skin. Dipped in wax - - and painted."

[strangers-mechanic]

sending this from the institute because anons teleported me out of the hotel, but uh…

@godsstrongestpoet @angel-of-the-archives @considermeblown-up

Yall three are the only people i actually know the tags of…

Has anyone else been left out on important shit because the anons passed over you or some shit? How come I only found out about Martin fucking dying after he got revived???

[godsstrongestpoet]

So did I, if it helps. I just was martin one day, and then pain, and now I'm this

[strangers-mechanic]

I… fair, I guess, but I think you get a free pass on that on account of it happening to you… you ok btw? I still haven’t seen you since whatever the hell happened…

[godsstrongestpoet]

I... I don't know. I don't know what I am.

[strangers-mechanic]

sending this from the institute because anons teleported me out of the hotel, but uh…

@godsstrongestpoet @angel-of-the-archives @considermeblown-up

Yall three are the only people i actually know the tags of…

Has anyone else been left out on important shit because the anons passed over you or some shit? How come I only found out about Martin fucking dying after he got revived???

[godsstrongestpoet]

So did I, if it helps. I just was martin one day, and then pain, and now I'm this

[godsstrongestpoet]

have you and tim broken up

I think if he saw me now, I'd be unrecognizable

I don't.. feel anymore. It's different. I wouldn't even consider myself human. I wouldn't even consider myself martin.

[godsstrongestpoet]

do you 3ver plan on going back to the institute with your friends and ur boyfriend? If not, you might be able to leave forever like this?

I'm only alive to help them but also. I don't want them to see me like this.

[godsstrongestpoet]

Nikola put tea leaves under your skin

You’re technically a teabag

:3

You are what you eat.?

I did eat one as a kid. It was bad

[godsstrongestpoet]

where like, are you rn

I don't know

I've been wandering a lot

The cold is a nice change

[godsstrongestpoet]

you should talk to dylan

I should. But he's the last thing I want to see

[godsstrongestpoet]

Can you still drink tea?

*gives you warm cup of tea*

*the cup has a highland cow on it*

-☕️

*Martin's face contorts into something close enough to a smile. Although he didn't have the organs necessary to sustain with food and water, he could at least act like how things were before.*

[strangers-mechanic]

Um

Abby

I don't think anyone told you but

I died.like I blew up. Nikola put me back together.

@godsstrongestpoet

wh-

what?

what?!

I’m sorry WHAT?!

what the fuck are you ok???????

[godsstrongestpoet]

I'm. I'm alive. I don't feel alive but I am

It's hard to be positive anymore, but at least it doesn't hurt anymore

Nothing hurts anymore

But at least I'm here right?

[godsstrongestpoet]

…I think we forgot to tell Abby you died…

.... shit