#about marcus

O R I G I N S

He was born near a port to a fisherman’s family in Molle, Sweden. 

His father, Stefan, was a steely man with blue eyes as piercing as his son’s. He was stern and didn’t talk much. He had big hands that were calloused by working the nets every day. It had always been rare for him to acknowledge Marcus’ presence. So rare, that whenever he called his son over for an errand, little Marcus would drop his wooden toys and run straight towards his father with glee. Stefan was a robot come-to-life most of the time, but his face would light up every time he saw his wife, Amy. 

Amy used to be the town beauty in her younger years. Marcus inherited her wavy brown her and her nose. Before she married Stefan, suitors would visit her parents’ cottage by the droves. A dream of hers was to move to Stockholm and be an actress, but she chose to abandon that dream the moment she learned she was carrying Marcus in her womb. On Marcus’ tenth birthday, Amy unfortunately died from leukemia. The trauma of the tragedy had etched itself deeply into Marcus that he refuses to celebrate his birthday to this day. 

Amy’s death put such a toll on Stefan that he started to retreat into his own darkness. Only a year into his bereavement, he went into business with a high-profile smuggling ring that snuck in stolen and contraband goods from England to Molle. Stefan made eleven-year-old Marcus his errand boy in the operation. He would keep track of the crates carrying smuggled items make sure they aren’t carried off to where there aren’t supposed to. 

One day, the MI6, together with Interpol, raided the fishing port in search of millions of pounds worth of stolen palace jewels. It went ugly fast, and it ended with Stefan being killed. When the chaos died down, Marcus, now an orphan, could only stare down at his father’s corpse. He was approached by a curious MI6 agent whom, out of pity, decided to buy food for him. They quickly evolved an endearing friendship. When Marcus was handed over to an orphanage, the agent immediately filed the paperwork to adopt him. 

With his new foster dad, Marcus emigrated to England at the age of 12. There, he experienced the love of another mother, as well as that of a sibling he’s never had before. He was able to eat three full meals a day. He was sent to a great school in warm clothes. 

Only a month after he finished college in Oxford, Marcus ended up following in the footsteps of his foster father and applying for the MI6. He was able to pass the rigorous training course without much of a struggle since as a teenager, he used to bond with his foster father with the old man passing on his expertise in hand-to-hand combat and weaponry. He graduated top of his class. After three months in the field, he gained himself the honor being dubbed as one of the MI6′s elite.

P E R S O N A L I T Y 

He’s been a descendant of Eros for as long as he could remember. When he was a kid, it was nearly impossible to have him sit on a couch in front of the TV. His time, he spent on pranking those on the nearby port, be it local fishermen, vendors, or the many customers who were drawn there by the fresh fish. When he was a kid, he was always dripping wet from swimming in the sea, exploring the waters, satiating his curiosity for the wonders world had to offer.

He isn’t a textbook nerd, but he is unusually clever. He could solve difficult puzzles without breaking a sweat, and he also got A’s in tests he barely studied for. This effortless intelligence continued well into his career, where a quick and sharp mind is vital for the success of high-risk missions.

He’s known as a rogue in the MI6, since he has a devil-may-care way of conducting his missions. His method is reckless yet usually effective, so it’s difficult to discern whether he’s stupid or brave. 

He picked the codename ‘Saint’ since he thought it was humorously ironic, given his infamous personality.

He’s seen in public with a different arm candy almost every night. With his good looks, effortless intelligence, easy air, and reckless ways, he’s used to having women fall at his feet. He’s quick to pick them up, but he’s also quick to set them aside after a night of making them feel as if he were head-over-heels in love. He’s the type who’d have a bouquet of flowers sent up a woman’s room the morning after. He’s terrified of being an actual slave to love, and it’s a good thing his job entails him to tirelessly move from country to country. He’s yet to meet a person who could draw him in with their fingers to his belt loops and make him stay for good.

It’s difficult to make him open up. He’s a can within a can, within a can. He has a tendency to turn himself into marble in situations that require his emotions to come rushing out. Aside from his foster family, only one or two people know about his tragic past in Sweden.