Marla Drake doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
Website: No Information
alias: No Information
bio: No Information
plotter: No Information
Joined: 2-May 17
Last Seen: Today at 02:48 pm
Local Time: Jul 23 2017, 08:41 PM
70 posts (0.9 per day)
( 0.80% of total forum posts )
May 28 2017, 12:24 PM
So Ive been google pic happy these last few days, and have come across some entertaining images for my face claim Dita van Teese. This one tickles me:
So here is your challenge, find and image of your face claim doing something zany. The only rule: It has to be something your character would do as well.
May 28 2017, 12:08 PM
So I accidentally Googled Luke Evans Dita von Teese, and I actually got a hit that could be a Namor/Marla moment.
That got me to wondering about others. Here are a few I have found, perhaps to inspire a character moment as well.
Marla and Nat:
Marla and Wanda:
And one of my favorites. Namor and Logan (They look like they are watching someone about to do something very stupid):
What have you found?
@[Namor Mackenzie] James Logan Howlett Natasha Romanoff Wanda Maximoff
May 16 2017, 08:32 PM
<table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" align="right ">
<td width="179px" height="268px"><a href="http://s135.photobucket.com/user/Runta/media/Marla130270-1.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img src="https://image.ibb.co/jNEf5F/Marla130270_1.jpg" border="0" alt=" photo Marla130270-1.jpg"/></a></td>
<div style="; text-align: justify; padding: 10px; color: #888888; background-color: #f9f5f5; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 12px; margin-left: 10px; overflow: auto;">
<p>Mousehole, Cornwall was exactly what it sounded like. A quaint little fishing town just south of Penzance, it hosted one post office, a church, a pub, and not one pirate in sight. It was the kind of town that didn’t even have sidewalks to roll up at sundown. So the light pouring out of the windows of the cliff side farmhouse, late into the night, seemed out of place. Almost as much the burly farmhands who never seemed to farm. The fact that the SSR had a site there was purely because of it’s out of the way nature and the sheltered cove in which they could hide a one man submersible. A submersible the SSR really wanted to know more about. Howard of course had refused to go to such a rural place without female companionship. Colonel Phillips had insisted on nothing to distract Howard from his work retro-engineering the sub. So they had compromised.
<p>Marla sat in the one comfortable chair in her room, in a slip and pincurls, as she had every night since arriving. Tonight, she was waiting. She had spent most of the day secreting one of Howard’s camera’s in the bushes outside her window. A tripwire had been stretched across the small crevice where her peeping tom had been taken to standing. She never would have noticed if it hasn’t been for the heel print found in the morning mud. Several nights of careful observation had revealed Agent Magner would pause every night during his rounds. This evening he was going to literally get caught in the act. She had even added extra flashes, just because.
<p>Waiting was the worst part of any job. She could do it for however long the mission required, but it was her least favorite thing to do. Marla snuck a glance at the clock, and nearly dropped the book she hadn’t been reading. Magner was late. Magner was never late. Carefully she sidled up to the window and peeped outside long enough to confirm the yard was clear of anyone. Not good.
<p>The house was one rambling floor, and Howard had taken over the main room as his work space. Padding down the hall, She walked as softly as she could. Ahead light shone through the slightly opened door, but all was quiet. Considering that Howard loved the sound of his own voice, especially when he was being brilliant, Marla found the silence unsettling. The reason for the silence was more than unsettling. Howard was slumped over his work, unconscious. Behind him was a man she did not know and he had a pistol leveled at Howard's head. Marla grabbed whatever was closest at hand, and kicked open the door. The kitschy cat statue flew across the room, powered by a pitch that her Dan would have been proud of. It connected with the gun, shattering into pieces and knocking the weapon from the man’s grasp.
<p>A few impolite Italian phrases later, the intruder grabbed a document tube off the desk and bolted for the door. Marla chased after him, unwilling to let Howard’s updated schematics get away. He had a good head start and she might have lost him if it hadn't been for the gravel path he had chosen. He was heading for the gangway down the cliff face, probably intending to take the submersible in his escape. The crushed rocks bit into the bottoms of her feet as she pelted after him.
<p>She would catch glimpses of him, as the long path zig-zagged down the cliff. Marla cursed under her breath, afraid she would not reach him before he made it to the dock. Soon they had reached the bottom, and she could hear his steps hit wood. Attempting to make up time, she vaulted over the railing onto the planks below … and froze. Standing on the dock, in the briefest of briefs, was a man like none Marla had ever seen before. The dock lights shone off pale skin and dark hair. Water dripped down musculature that put Michaelangelo's David to shame, but even more captivating was the powerful gaze that stopped her in her tracks. “Oh... my…”