#keen marlow

[superherobriefings]

The Destroyer

Creator(s): Alex Schomburg, Jack Binder, Stan Lee

Alias(es): Kevin “Keene” Marlow

1st Issue w/Uniform: Mystic Comics #6

Year/Month of Publication: 1941/10

marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Kevin_Marlow_(Earth-616)

[the-antiapocalyptic-man]

sloppy Golden Age Destroyer

[comicbooktradingcards]

Upper Deck Marvel 80th Anniversary (2018)

#7 Destroyer

[vintagegeekculture]

Who was the first comic book superhero that Stan Lee ever created? The answer is Keen Marlow, the Destroyer, who Lee created with artist Al Avison in late 1941 in Mystic Comics #6.

Like many young people, Stan Lee's first character was an edgy reimagining of another character, in this case, Captain America. Journalist Keen Marlow, while in a Nazi Death Camp (remember, this was before the Holocaust was public knowledge) befriended a kindly scientist who was a fellow prisoner, who gave him an elixir that made him a world class athlete. He adopted a frightening mask and skull tights to terrify the Nazis.

[anto-pops]

Here's a lil snippet of the Auror! Sebastian smut cause this covid brain fog is kicking my ass and I can't think coherently despite trying

The entire time he was talking, his hips were rocking against you– shamelessly deriving his own pleasure from the friction the movement provided. The entire display really had no business being so attractive, especially considering you were literally locked in Marlowe Selwyn’s downstairs bathroom. Much as you’d expected, however, Sebastian was working you into a tizzy with sorely little effort, and you were as keen to feel him as he was to feel you. 

Sebastian hoisted your dress up your legs slowly, taking his time and observing your every reaction in the mirror with an intensity that made your head spin. “You’re certifiably insane, but fine,” you relented, dragging one of your hands in front of you to gingerly grasp Sebastian’s forearm. “We have to be quick though, I really don’t want anyone to come looking.” 

With your dress hiked up mostly out of the way, Sebastian had enough leeway to run his palms up your bare stomach, gently scratching his nails along the soft, smooth skin as he went. “The absolute last thing I want to do is rush through this… you know I like to take my time.” 

“Then save the rest of your horny fantasies for after we get home. Unless you secretly want someone to walk in on us. Are you that eager for your boss to see your cock?”

You felt Sebastian’s deft hand scale down towards your aching center once more– only this time he slipped the appendage under the thin cotton of your underwear, and his fingers were instantly met with your pooling slick. He practically guffawed at your taunt and flashed you a cunning smirk through the mirror, “Now who’s certifiably insane?” 

[landwriter]

oh menacing writer of the land, I bow to thee. forgive me for my intrusion, for I come to you with great reverence. might I be granted with the holy scripture of the musician!dream x professor hob au? I bring an offering of information on touring, musician life + music industry insight, should you so graciously answer my prayers 🙏

a handsome gift! the least I can offer is more twitter beef au!! most of this was written right in my tumblr drafts when I was still labouring under the delusion that was I was doing could be called "describe the fic you would write" - hob learns about The Diss Track. in his introduction to english lit class:

On Thursday morning, Hob is walking to his lecture, wearing his one sweatervest, because he can, thank you very much. Morpheus hadn't posted in over a day, and he supposes that's just the speed of the internet, and their little battle of wits is over. When he gets into the hall and sets his bag down, every single one of his students looks up at once. And several young people who - who are not even his students, he thinks.

"Right, hello class. Good to see you all here and keen on our last lecture before winter break. And welcome to the new faces as well. I can only assume you're here because of your interest in Marlowe."

"Oh my god," someone says at the back, loud enough for Hob to hear. "He's wearing the vest." He firmly reminds himself this is exactly what he wanted.

Amanda, who sits at the front and always does the readings, raises her hand. Hob calls on her in relief.

"Uh. Professor. We love Marlowe. But haven't you seen it yet?"

Hob had forgotten to silence his phone and it's started buzzing. He ignores it.

"Seen what," he says, very levelly. Smiling firmly. Not at all panicking. Ignoring his students' exchanged glances.

"The song."

"It's a diss track," says another student.

"Sorry, yeah, the diss track."

The entire lecture hall is faintly vibrating with anticipation.

"Is there swearing?" he asks, "I mean, more than I do in class. Anything particularly offensive?"

"No, professor," she says, understanding immediately.

"Well, I suspect I'll find it pretty quickly if I check my phone just now, and that only half of you are here for Marlowe anyways, so let's just put it on, shall we?"

Some kids actually cheer. "Enough of that," he says, "We're going to have a rigorous academic discussion about it afterwards." Then, because he cannot and will not help himself, he adds, "Presuming, of course, there is sufficient subject matter to engage with."

He pulls out his phone and fails utterly to hide his grin at the chorus of ooohs. Someone in the back actually shouts, "Get him, professor!"

Sure enough, the same video has been sent to him half a dozen times. He pulls it up, gets it displayed on the lecture hall's screen, and presses play.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s see what all this fuss is all about.”

He has enough professional goodwill from years of teaching to do this kind of stupid thing, and it's nice to cash it in, sometimes. He likes to be the cool professor when he can. Even in a sweatervest.

He leans back against the lectern to watch. It's not Morpheus on screen, but a woman that Hob distantly recognizes. She's gorgeous, and apparently, given the rapturous whispers behind him, also at least a little famous. She's surrounded by takeaway containers, fiddling with her phone until music starts playing. "Good job, baby brother." She takes a sip of her beer and then wipes her mouth, and grins brightly right at the camera. "This one's for you, prof," she says, laughing.

Afterwards, the entire lecture hall is silent. Hob is silent.

"Holy shit," says a student, and Hob turns around, face burning. "She murdered you."

Hob gathers himself. He feels a little dizzy. It might low blood sugar. Or love.

"Indeed. Right. Well. Certainly a lot to unpack there." His hands are a little sweaty. It's definitely love. "This isn’t a classics class, but I know some of you are classics students and would be happy to educate us, so let’s start with that parallel made right at the start between the Lotophagi - that’s the lotus-eaters from The Odyssey - and the concept of academia as an ivory tower. Who wants to talk about that?"

Five different hands shoot up. "Wow. Okay, okay," he laughs. "Tristan, start us off."

In the next 80 minutes, he hardly gets a word in edgewise. He is, absolutely gloriously, playing discussion moderator instead of lecturer. Hob knows, feels it in his gut even now, that he will look back on this as one of the best classes he’s ever held. Students are twisting around in their chairs to engage with each other.

It is, he thinks, absolutely worth a bit of murdering.

[docgold13]

This list reflects just one individual’s personal opinion...  that said, let’s get started:

1). Sherlock Holmes created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle 

2). Batman created by Bill Finger and Bob Kane

3). Auguste Dupin created by Edgar Allan Poe

4). Hercule Poirot created by Agatha Christie

5). Philip Marlowe created by Raymond Chandler

6). Jane Marple created by Agatha Christie

7). Frank Columbo created by Peter Falk, Patrick McGoohan and Steven Bochco

8). Sam Spade created by Dashiell Hammett

9). Virgil Tibbs created by John Ball

10). Nancy Drew created by Carolyn Keene

11). Alex Cross created by James Patterson

12). Dirk Gently created by Douglas Adams

13). Byomkesh Bakshi created by Sharadindu Bandyopadhyay

14). Jessica Fletcher created by Peter S. Fischer and Richard Levinson

15). Mma Precious Ramotswe created by Alexander McCall Smith 

16). Velma Dinkley and Fred Jones created by Joe Ruby and Ken Spears

17). Jim Rockford created by Stephen J. Cannell and Roy Huggins

18). Shawn Spencer created by Steve Franks

19). Leroy ‘Encyclopedia’ Brown created by Donald J. Sobol

20). Harry Bosch created by Michael Connelly

21). Adrian Monk created by Andy Breckman

22). Nero Wolfe created by Rex Stout 

23). Shinichi Kudo created by Gosho Aoyama

24). Benoit Blanc created by Rian Johnson

[the-sycophant]

How does Miss Morning feel about all the other gods compared to how she feels about Menphina?

Apologies this got so long. Lo! A religious character having feelings about religion. ...and me being rambly with Temple beliefs.

Oh well! tl;dr | Oschon is King...for now.

Oschon For many, Oschon is considered to be Menphina's divine lover. Why is that? He is a wanderer of the realm, an explorer of self, and a patron and guide to vagrants. He has wandering legs, wandering hands, a wandering mind. It keeps Him away for who knows how long, and He is sure to be as fickle as a breeze. Maybe He's even reserved and reluctant for affection when He does return, difficult to hold and to talk to. Or maybe He is ravenous for it, immediately diving into the ~divine sheets~ upon arrival. Maybe not even there, taking it instead in the doorway.

Regardless of how He visits or why - He visits, and She lets Him.

Marlowe's Temple believes Menphina loves Him for His unique passion to just be. He loves uniquely and needs to be loved uniquely - and perhaps it's not the same every time. So they keep a constant, they share stories. Stories of shared moments whilst on the move, of the smallest of human interactions, or of finding some small grove no one has laid eyes on in decades. Of singing songs and writing sonnets that declare an anything to an anyone, to a no one, just to do it and put words on paper or in the air even if no one sees or hears but your own eyes and ears. Of crying out joyfully to the birds as a market caravan joins in all off key as they rock down the road, strumming and plucking strings, beating on make-shift drums to pass the time. They laugh and cry together over moments, and She will comfort and love Him in whichever way he might need, gives him a something special He might not get elsewhere. Non-judgmental. They need all not be spoken stories, just felt ones. Scars on the heart or the body that change you, make you grow. It's really all humans can do sometimes, learn as they go, and Oschon is likely the most painfully human out of all of them. So he deals with this pain, again, in his own way. Sometimes alone, sometimes not.

And what else can He do but continue onward?

But to bring stories back, He must leave, He must live, and if He wants a bit of lovin' He better have a damned good story when He comes back.

The Temple recognizes that people need to be loved differently, but they try and cater especially to those that follow Oschon's path regardless if they themselves follow Him in their hearts. For many it is a difficult road to walk, willingly or otherwise. It is oft filled with struggles, suffering, solitude. Violence. The manner in which one secures their victory over their own livelihood, to continue living and fighting for one's inner self despite the strife that the outer puts on them is deserving of reward and reprieve. Like Menphina does for Oschon, the Temple provides in a myriad of ways through companionship. Marlowe is one such companion, offering herself to be a friend, sister, lover- a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold, or to merely be a presence in the room, just sharing a space. People change as their stories are written, and loving someone over time, for a long time, can fluctuate.

Marlowe wishes to understand the love between the two gods better, and thus understand Oschon's ward, so she follows in His footsteps when she can. Ultimately she presents herself as a traveling companion. Someone to take with you on your adventures, take part in your stories, and perhaps more if one is keen. She often relies on the generosity of others during on her journey to...wherever it is she's trying to go, carrying and even owning little gil despite appearances. Sharing a ride, a room, a meal - sharing moments of time together until that time is over, regardless of its length. Moments come, moments go. People come, people go. That's life, so joie de vivre! She might even sing one's praises if they make enough of an impression. Albeit poorly.

Oschon is by far the most beloved by Marlowe, deep down even more-so than Menphina. A bit like when people joke that their dog will steal their partner from them, but the dog will still come to heel when called…while making big, sad puppy eyes at their master's lover. How could she not love Oschon as much as Menphina does? Marlowe waits for her own wanderers to return with an ever wagging tail, and sometimes she chases after them if they inspire something more instinctual.

Vagrants also tend to be kind to strays, so that's a plus in her book, too.

Llymlaen While some believe that Oschon is either the lover of Menphina or Llymlaen, the Temple Marlowe is from believes both to be true. He probably has many other lovers as well, but regardless...those that travel the sea are somewhat similar, though they can rely on their crew in times of need. A more adventurous type of travel, where you have to give up a bit more control. You don't have the dirt beneath your feet, can't roll in the grass or hear the birds. A different sort of isolation, at times, but still just as beautiful. Just a bit more dangerous. You are at Her mercy.

Exciting!

Marlowe serves sailors just as much when she is able as they too have wonderful stories. While I mentioned [here] that cats would sometimes go on ships, the same goes for dogs too. A special someone to provide companionship, and to have a bit of a hunt on shore.

Marlowe loves the beach, loves the ocean, water in general. So many great discoveries to find there! (Not to mention the poorly harboured romanticization of pirates from too many steamy romance and adventure books) Nymeia Marlowe has an incredibly sore spot in her heart for the Spinner. Marlowe's primary class is [Oracle], someone with the gift of foresight and incredible magicks. Generally she uses Read Ahead while on the road, providing comfort and care to the groups she travels with, or for merchant caravans to protect them from bandits and highway robberies. It is consistent, useful. The rest is flawed. Incredibly flawed. Her magic does not bend to her will, does not heed her wants or needs. It does what it wants, and it is a gamble every time she casts the magic she's best with. The lack of control makes Marlowe bitter.

It is left to random chance if her magic is to hurt or heal both friends and foes alike, and Marlowe believes Nymeia did it as punishment for being able to glimpse at what she shouldn't. Or maybe it is because Nymeia has seen what the little bitch is capable of. Maybe it was s̶̕ͅo̷̻̐m̷̲̉e̴͓͋t̵̫̿h̵̜̿ḯ̵͜n̷̲̄g̵̮͂ ̷̺̀ else.

Halone Marlowe was raised deep in Coerthas, and though she has been 'out' since the Calamity, Ishgard was not all too kind to Coerthas, and neither was Halone. Those that tried to become perfect found their folly in attempting to imitate the divine when they should have been making their own path. Her and her family have dealt with the Inquisition much. History speaks for itself. Otherwise, She is met with neutrality.

Nald'Thal Marlowe despises dealing with gil, usually doesn't like working with merchants at the top of their hierarchy, fears not for death etc. etc. The entirety of her 'business' is dealing with things. Things that are procured for her in some form or fashion and bestowed upon her for whatever reason, be it because she's ever deserving (she is) or to get something in return (companionship). Things have stories, and for what doesn't she can daydream about it. Where did the item get made? How did it pass from to her companion's hands? To hers? Otherwise the Traders are fine. I guess.

Nophica Marlowe hates the Shroud, but Nophica is...acceptable.

As for The Rest Neutral. Hardly given a thought (or maybe I'm just lazy). She likes the sun, hates reading books. She'd like to meet Rhaglr, though. Bite at his ankles a bit.

------------------------------------ & despite all of the above, all of the gods (even Menphina) are secretly dealt some level of spite. For why is Dalamud not allowed to be raised up amongst them? Because He is a dog? Can not even the most divine, most loyal hound be lifted to godhood?

If she is His Oracle, a mouthpiece for this little god - maybe she can devour the world whole. Grow it anew.

Just for h̸̼̋i̸̟̾m̸̭͗.

TY for the ask, @argentrenard

[vecna-is-here]

Marlowe in love - IV

Pairing: Kit Marlowe x F! Reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Read the previous parts here:

For @bleuatlas @kiggyfeather and @jcbbby

I’m sorry this took SO long!

You were pacing back and forth, it seemed to take so long… Your night hadn’t been particularly restful since you tossed and turned for ages before finally falling asleep. The day had passed so slowly, even though you had slept until noon. After taking a long, hot bath you looked for a dress to wear. You had decided on a dark red one, it almost seemed black, and the sleeves and neck were trimmed with lace. You had it made especially for Christmas but today seemed like an even better moment to wear it. Your loose curls fell down your back and the shorter locks in the front framed your face alluringly. You didn’t usually wear colour on your face, and yet you reddened your cheeks and lips a bit - it was subtle, yet seductive. Persephone chattered and started brushing against your leg so you picked her up and sat down. She purred happily in your lap and her bright, copper eyes flickered in the evening sun.

A gentle knock startled you and your black cat meowed annoyedly before jumping on the table next to you. She had never been keen on visitors and usually hid until they left. She hadn’t seen the playwright last time since she was sleeping in your garden back then. You got up and tidied your hair before opening the door, your heart was pounding.

Kit’s charming smile was the first thing you saw and it made you weak. He leaned against the doorframe and his black attire made him look irresistibly handsome.

‘Good evening.’, his voice gave you shivers.

‘Hello there.’ you blushed and gestured for him to come in so you could get your cloak. You had forgotten it upstairs.

He stepped inside and you said: ‘I’ll be right back, let me fetch my cloak. You heard a hiss and saw your black cat looking utterly displeased.

‘Y/N?’

‘Yes?’ you turned around and met his intoxicating eyes.

‘You look lovely.’

‘Thank you…’ you blushed. ‘And don’t mind the cat, she doesn’t like strangers.’ you added with a chuckle.

While you were upstairs Kit had approached Persephone. She swished her tail and narrowed her eyes at him. He greeted her and stuck out his hand and to his surprise, she gently rubbed her cheek against it. Kit chuckled and, before he knew it, held the purring animal in his arms. You came downstairs and couldn’t believe what you saw.

‘Goodness!’ you chuckled and Kit’s grin made your heart flutter. ‘I see you’ve met Persephone.’.

‘The goddess of the underworld.’ he muttered.

‘But she loathes guests…’ you said.

‘I’m not like most people.’ he smiled.

He put your cat back on the windowsill and gently took your hand: ‘Let’s go, darling.’

[tremendouskoalachild]

all the last name duplicities in The High Republic Character Encyclopedia:

married couples:

Pikka and Joss Adren

Marlowe and Vellis San Tekka

mother and daughter:

Chancey and Sylvestri Yarrow

Ghirra and Avon Starros

mother and son:

Kyong and Axel Greylark

Lina and Kitrep Soh

Shalla and Asgar Ro

father and daughter:

Monarch (first name unspecified) A’lbaran and Xiri A’lbaran

father and son:

Spence and Dass Leffbruk

Viceroy (first name unspecified) Ferrol and Rev Ferrol

Asgar and Marchion Ro

siblings:

Sky and Helis Graf

Oliviah and Elecia Zeveron

cousins:

Yana and Marda Ro

Sky/Helis and Tilson Graf

unspecified:

Marda and Marchion Ro (descendant, implied great-grandson)

Sky/Helis/Tilson Graf and Xylan/Catriona Graf (Graf family)

Morton San Tekka, Mari San Tekka, Marlowe San Tekka (San Tekkas)

Yacek and Jordanna Sparkburn (likely related)

Enya Keen and Rodor Keen (likely coincidental)

[superherobriefings]

The Destroyer

Creator(s): Alex Schomburg, Jack Binder, Stan Lee

Alias(es): Keen Marlow / Kevin Marlow

1st Issue w/Uniform: Kid Komics #4

Year/Month of Publication: 1944/03

marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Kevin_Marlow_(Earth-616)

[skyriderwednesday]

Blacksad is fantastic! Think Philip Marlow-esque Detective Noir, but with anthropomorphic animals.

Ever since I first heard of it I've been just like [EYES]. I'm so keen to get my hands on it.

[never-rpg]

FALL IN LOVE AND MAKE WAR. CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR, SHATTERED ON THE COLD FLOOR. YOU KNOW I DID IT ALL FOR YOU. LOOK AT WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!

Helen was the apprentice to an apothecary in London. While the storefront seemed quite mundane to passersby on the street, a select handful of its clientele knew it had more to offer than balms for rashes and herbal cures for illnesses. Helen and her mentor created all sorts of remedies including poisons to be administered with extra care and discretion. Helen has grown accustom to seeing people employ the use of herbs to manipulate situations even to the extent of extreme and violent ends. She was never overly invested in the work. Preparation of the remedies took a lot of tedium and left her hands covered in scars and callouses. However, Helen enjoyed that the results of her labors helped others who had often been backed into impossible corners.

Helen wasn’t raised on nursey rhymes and fairytales. Instead, she consumed countless issues of penny dreadfuls: Varney the Vampire, The String of Pearls, Wagner the Wehr-Wolf, and so on. They were popular before her time and quite out of fashion once she’d begun reading them. The apothecary she worked under had kept stacks and stacks of them in the backrooms of the store. It was a collection passed down from her mentor’s mother who had led a rather scandalous life and had dearly enjoyed the crude stories. Many issues of the serials were missing and some had ink so faded that they were unreadable, but Helen loved to pour over them during her sparse free time.

Without Pan’s knowledge, his shadow had been slinking off to the Other Place in search of a contingency plan, believing that Wendy will one day startle and abandon them all again as well as not being altogether keen on how restrained Pan is behaving. The apothecary was in hot water with suspicions mounting about possible links to several unexplained deaths, so the timing of the shadow’s arrival was immaculate. Helen has a sense of grandeur from being selected and guided by the shadow. It’s whispered to her all about how the island needs her, how Peter Pan needs her, how it’s her rightful destiny and she only need to take it and to convince Pan of the truth of it. More importantly Helen’s survival demands that she make it to the top of Neverland’s food chain so she’ll be safely away from the Other Place lest she find herself behind bars.

CONNECTIONS

✘ PETER: drawn to, sees as a prize to be won & a ticket to power and safety ✘ PETER’S SHADOW: advised and protected by, trusts ✘ WENDY: envious, resentful of, feels threatened by ✘ RUFIO, MARLOWE, TINKER BELL: the shadow insists they be made allies

FACE CLAIM IS AMITA SUMAN | TAKEN

[landwriter]

Oh my god your writing has me in a choke hold!!! I’m curious about Hands and/or Shut Up, please! Your brain is amazing and lovely and I’m very excited to hear anything you have to share about your WIPs💚

Thank you so much! I've got a couple Hands asks marinating and nothing to offer for them yet, so Shut Up is the Twitter Beef AU (another excerpt here) where Hob is a comparative lit professor and Dream is an underground electronic artist, and Hob comes for him on Twitter. Death meddles and drops a diss track. Hob finds out at his last lecture before hols and plays it for his course in a fit of pique, and...ends up having the best two hours of his teaching career?

He slides into Dream's DMs for the first time under the cut:

He catches sight of the time and is surprised to see it’s five minutes past the hour. Normally, his cue is when a handful of students start pointedly packing their things in the last few minutes of the lecture. “Okay, we’ve gone on too long, because you’re all still here, letting me, but I do need to get to office hours, so let me conclude with the argument that this is why textual analysis is so important, right? The author chooses their words to say more than one thing, and, as we learned, having additional knowledge of where they’re coming from - historically, socially, culturally - is the real Rosetta stone for understanding their message. I encourage you to think about that while you choose your final paper topics over break. A final reminder that your draft thesis is due on our first week back, and yes, I will be able to tell if you came up with it that morning, so please, please, give it some thought. If anyone feels keen and wants to talk about their ideas now, you know where to find me. Office hours go until 6. Alright, go, be free. My apologies to anyone who was excited for Marlowe - we’ll cover him when we come back instead! Have an amazing break, folks.”

Students are coming over already and he holds up a quelling hand. “Office hours, guys. I have other classes! I’ll see you there.”

It’s true, of course, but also he wants just a quick moment to himself to do something. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he pulls out his phone and ignores all his notifications to send a DM to Morpheus before he can think too hard on what he’s doing.

didn't know you needed to be protected by your big sis, next time i'll go easier on you x

He hesitates, deletes the x, and sends it, and jams his phone back into his pocket. After his office hours - exhaustingly well-attended - he finally has a chance to check his phone again. He's not used to actually having three hours worth of students to talk to.

There's three messages from Morpheus.

she insisted also i wrote most of it for the record

He raises his eyebrows. The messages are from nearly two hours ago, which he hopes means it's not uncool and weird if he replies right now.

it was you? it's incredible writing

Then, feeling suddenly far too earnest, he quickly adds:

almost like you went to school for being something other than a pretentious goth cunt

His reply is marked read immediately and he nearly chokes on his tea. He desperately wishes he could delete the last message now. Too much, he thinks. Always too much, Hobsie. Morpheus is typing.

don't need to go to school for that x and thanks

He puts down his phone violently and stands up, breathes out. He feels like a teenager with a crush. His phone buzzes again and he snatches it back.

meanwhile i bet u have student loans still prof

Hob laughs.

only a little. some of us had to learn how to be pretentious actually x

He thinks for a moment, then adds, wincing a little at the size of the text block:

thanks btw. aside from threats from ur insane fans I also had the best lecture attendance in ages and my office hours were 'sold out' lol. if all I had to do for better student engagement was get in an internet feud with a random musician I'd have done it years earlier.

so u concede i'm a musician :)

you still have terrible taste in shoes hey i see you typing if you say anything about my sweatervest i'm blocking you!!

then have a good night, professor gadling

you too

Then he waits a little too long, maybe, before adding:

morpheus

[queen--kenobi]

I thiiiiiiiink I sent one of these for Christine Eve and Eden Elliott once but I cannot remember so today you get Marlowe Asker

About 35, Greek-American, olive-skinned with long wavy black hair (but definitely on the side of dark gray). She runs and works front counter at a small coffee shop called The Last Drop, which is unofficially the hot spot for criminals to get a hot cup of joe and not worry about work. She has no idea this is the case, or that her shop is considered a Neutral Zone - she just knows her customers tell AMAZING stories.

I don't want to spoil her story for when I eventually write it, but one of her customers is an older gentleman who simply gives her the name Red when he orders, and so she jokingly calls him different colors every time he comes in, settling on Mr. Blue. He's one of her favorite customers, full of absurd stories from around the world and the people he's met, things he's seen, experiences he's had. In return she listens intently and flirts a little - it's all in good fun, he's always had good humor about it.

She doesn't think much of it beyond simply having a favorite customer, but her life gets upended when somebody tries to hold her up while she's closing up the shop. That's how she learns that "Mr. Blue" has enemies, and one of them is convinced she's one of his accomplices, something she's never even heard about. And that's how she learns she's been serving Raymond Reddington, an EXTREMELY wanted criminal with an empire her other customers (she also learns) could only dream of.

She learns this after Red shoots her would-be assailant in the head.

The rest of the story follows her coming to terms with being dragged into an underground criminal network she's unknowingly been on the fringe of for years. She serves a similar role to Elizabeth Keen, being the outsider viewing this world for the audience's benefit, but unlike Elizabeth her concerns are much more based on survival and figuring out where she stands in all of this, especially since this isn't her first brush with it, something she's worked to cover up for years before it came knocking on her door. She's definitely more willing to get her hands dirty from day one, but she's also much more secretive, private, and is capable of waiting a long time to see what she believes to be justice paid off.

Oh the people who ship Elizabeth and Red would hate her I just know it

I mean, her not being white and involved in crime? Even if it's not a choice? Whew boy. That's gonna make people mad. Idk I feel like there'd be weird discourse about her being a negative portrayal of immigrants

A lot of comparisons to Elizabeth and calling her a Mary Sue. Lots of "women can't be that patient she's so unrealistic her emotions would get the best of her". And if she had to kill someone, there'd be the "she's a woman she couldn't have overpowered a man". But on the flip side, lots of people girlbossifying her. Like Gone Girl with the "I am the cunt you married" if she had any good lines. It'd be all over edits with that Gone Girl scene and like... Jennifer's Body "I'm only killing boys"

[findinginga]

"Captain, would you think it is possible…

 ...that Herr Laszlo will receive a visa?" - Major Strasser (Casablanca 1942)

Ingeborga has a new MacGuffin for our saga...

No, a MacGuffin is not a fast food breakfast item.  Rather, it has been described as an object of temporary focus to allow a plot line to be advanced.  In the above referenced "Casablanca", the MacGuffin was the exit visas obtained through robbery and murder.  In "The Maltese Falcon", possession of the black bird fueled murder and betrayal across the wide spectrum of those who coveted the prize.  In "Murder My Sweet" the search for the missing and elusive Velma leads Philip Marlowe into a complex mystery.  In all these examples, the MacGuffin is an aspirational goal.  Indeed, the last spoken line of "The Maltese Falcon" is that of Sam Spade responding to a question from Tom Polhaus about the heavy statue.  Spade replied to the detective (paraphrasing Shakespeare), "...the stuff that dreams are made of...".

Upon sharing my thoughts about retirement, or perhaps, continued work in a warmer climate as a "digital nomad", Inga seemed keen to discuss her own desire to escape the constraints and long winters of Northwest Russia.  My empathic internal voice was encouraging me to help her realize the dream that she expressed; however, I had learned many lessons about Inga along the way, which made me wary.  She was recently divorced and any international travel with Eva would require the explicit permission of Denis, Eva's father.  Additionally, given the state of world politics, it would be not be easy for Ingeborga and Eva to secure even travel visas for most, if not all, of Western Europe.  These factors dictated that I be deliberate in my actions.  It would be necessary to constantly question and then validate the progress of Inga toward securing the necessary documentation.

A goal or a fantasy?

With the onset of Summer 2022 there continued a succession of light, inconsequential communications with Inga.  I continued to inject as many supportive comments into our banter as possible.  I now appreciated how this was the fuel driving Inga.  I was complimentary regarding her appearance and progress in the gym.  I was supportive of her desire to improve her drawing skills.  I was also supportive of her financially by sending her small amounts of money to provide for some extras for her and Eva.  Of course, I had no way to determine how she was using the resources I supplied, but the money was not the issue for me.  If there was a way to demonstrate and model trust, I was prepared to do this even though the change I hoped to see may not be realized.

As the weeks passed over that Summer, I shared with Inga information about real estate and schools in Costa Blanca region of Spain.  In particular, I located a school I thought might be perfect for Eva.  I went so far as to attend a digital open house and asked the admissions director questions in preparation.

Despite the expressed enthusiasm of Ingeborga, there seemed to be no progress toward securing the necessary documentation.  Because I thought it ill advised to solely rely on her descriptions of the process or obstructions she may have encountered enroute to securing visas, I was independently making inquiries with the Spanish Consulate.  I was able to validate that having a visa granted to a Russian national would be extremely difficult, laborious and expensive.  Further, a tourist visa would only grant a limited stay  

It was obvious to me that Inga's enthusiasm was waning.  I suggested to Inga that if her goal was truly to find a warm weather home where she and Inga could move, there were over 100 countries granting visas to Russian nationals.  I suggested several of these as alternatives but she quickly rejected all citing either distance or potential difficulties transporting her possessions.  One country of interest to her was Cyprus, a divided island nation.  Cyprus is the adopted home of a large group of former or current Russian citizens.  A few years prior, Cypriot officials had been involved in selling passports/citizenship to Russian oligarchs.  Discovery of this forced changes in emigration law.  Cyprus reinstated visa restrictions for Russian nationals.  Inga would be forced to apply for visas just as she would have been required to enter Spain.  As for me, working as "digital nomad" in Cyprus was appealing.  Just as I had prior, I began to search out recommendations for appealing residential areas.

Summer yields to Autumn

With the rapid approach of Autumn 2022, Inga reported no progress toward securing a visa.  It was not even clear she had initiated the process.  Our communications, even though high in volume, were of predictable content - coffee, dresses, Eva and alcohol with each day being some variation of these topics.  Inga would periodically introduce comments about her frustration with making and receiving online purchases.  Sanctions, resulting in travel and commerce restrictions were viewed by Inga as insults.  Inga did casually remark in an exchange that the restrictions were compromising her ability to purchase items that she and an acquaintance had begun to sell.  This indicated that resources I had intended for her and Eva directly were being used for another purpose.  I purposefully did not react to Inga's admission.  I was not surprised and it was inconsequential to me.  I had come to expect just about anything.

In late September I was contacted by a recruiting firm to gauge my interest in accepting a locum tenens (temporary assignment) arrangement at the busiest emergency department in Chicago.  The contract was for three months and was to begin in early December and end the last day of February.  Before accepting the role, I decided to discuss the offer with Inga as both a way to demonstrate transparency and respect in a relationship but to also get some understanding what she was doing regarding her desire to move to Cyprus.  Inga made few comments about the job in Chicago other to voice support if it was something in which I was interested.  When I mentioned the timing of my assignment and a potential move to Cyprus, Inga replied that she would need to make a trip to either St. Petersburg or Moscow. Both are cities where Cyprus maintains consulates.  Inga claimed that because of Eva being in school, there was not a window of opportunity to make the trip.  Of course, she did not actually need to travel to the consulates as travel and visa related information is readily found online.  However, I did not make an issue of what was either procrastination at addressing the issue or a stall tactic.  I was more inclined to think it the latter of the two.

You guessed it...time for another scope of work for PI Labs

I was again struggling with a little cognitive dissonance as the result of my communications with Inga.  There was a disconnect between her stated goals and any initiative she was expending to realizing the same.  That, coupled with a few other casual comments, made me wonder what Inga was actually doing in the course of a day. 

I contacted PI Labs and Mikhail Levko and I agreed upon another round of direct observation of Inga.  Sections of the summary report included:

September 12, 2022 from 08:00 to 20:00 

Conducted observation of subject.  The beginning of the observation took place at: Pskov, ul. Nikolai Vasilyeva, 71g, where Ingeborga and Denis Reshetnikov currently live.

At 9:00 am, Ingeborga drove Eva to school by car: Skoda Octavia (Superb), number E 244 KU 60. This vehicle is registered to Denis.  Denis left the residence driving a Volvo in an unknown direction.  Due to bad weather and a gloomy period, a photo could not be taken.

Ingeborga returned home at 12:00.  The car was parked at the front of a beauty salon, which is located in the ground floor of the building where they reside.  Officially, the salon was re-registered for Denis's mother - Reshetnikova Elena Pavlovna.  Further until 2:30 pm Ingeborga was at home.  She left to school to pick up Eva.  Upon arrival home, they entered the residence from the side of the salon.  At 5:31 pm Eva and Ingeborga left home using the Skoda car.  At 7:36 pm Denis arrived home.  Once inside the house, he never left.  Eva and Ingeborga returned home at 8:23 pm. 

September 13, 2022 Information was requested from the surveillance cameras of the city monitoring center. The monitoring center checked the movement of the Skoda vehicle. The footage shows the silhouette of a man and a woman identifiable as Denis and Ingeborg.

Divorce did not change much...

Despite an official divorce decree finalized in April, Inga and Denis remained together and continued to share resources and who knows what else.  The report came as no surprise but did allow the confusion I was experiencing to resolve.  It also confirmed my conclusion that Inga was stalling and, again "future faking"

At least I could accept the new assignment and leave for Chicago with a clear head.