Editing Marquis (section)

==Personality==
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his interlude most important 
https://parahumans.wordpress.com/2012/12/27/interlude-16-donation-bonus-3/ -->Dragon described Marquis as "sometimes rude or casually cruel, but he remained deeply honorable beneath that."<ref name="10.5 ePrisoner">Prisoner 599, Lung, was dining with Prisoner 166, Marquis.  It was a curious match.  The two were near complete opposites.  Lung maintained a veneer of civility over an almost feral core self, while the Marquis was sometimes rude or casually cruel, but he remained deeply honorable beneath that. - [http://parahumans.wordpress.com/2012/05/17 Excerpt] from [[Interlude 10.5]]</ref> He claimed to "have a lot of respect for people who keep to a particular code, whatever that code might be, and very little for traitors and wafflers."<ref name="22.y">[[Interlude 22.y]]</ref> He admitted that he didn't consider himself a good man for following his code.<ref name="16.z e1">Marquis took his time rolling and lighting a cigarette, then kneeled before her.  He spoke with it bobbing in his lips, "My girl.  I'm not a good man.  I have rules I follow, but that doesn't make me ''good''.  At best, it's one virtue among many I've failed to acquire.  I'm rough around the edges, whatever I might play at, and that's plain enough to see to anyone who pays attention.  I grew up in hard circumstances, and it's taken me a long time to work past that and earn the respect I get.  And I would give that up if you needed it." - [https://parahumans.wordpress.com/2012/12/27 Excerpt] from [[Interlude 16.z]]</ref> [[Brandish]] described him as sticking to his rules without fail, playing "fair" and remaining cultured and polite even in the middle of a fight or when injured.<ref name="I15"> - [https://parahumans.wordpress.com/2012/10/18 Excerpt] from [[Interlude 15.x]]</ref> Ingenue claimed that he "switches from the aristocrat to the low born commoner as it suits him."<ref name=":1">[[Teneral e.5]]</ref><!--something like Monsieur Gustave H. from grand Budapest hotel then-->

He had exceptional practice in concealing his emotional reactions because of his power, giving him an edge in conversations and negotiations. When he couldn't trust himself to lie convincingly, he defaulted to a simple smile.<ref name="16.z"> - [https://parahumans.wordpress.com/2012/12/27 Excerpt] [[Interlude 16.z]]</ref>

Marquis was an exceptionally skilled fighter, whose personality and power made him exceptional in turning one advantage into another. In melee, he was able to ensure that every strike he made against [[Manpower]] would instead hit one of his weaker teammates if not blocked. He could react fast enough to destroy his own generated weapon before it hit an "unacceptable" target.<ref name="I15"/>

He cared deeply about his relationship with his [[Amy Dallon|daughter]] , having greatly enjoyed it when she was a child.<ref>This was a gamble.  Amelia could be the excuse his enemies or more ambitious underlings needed to mount an attack.  At worst, he'd die and she would… well, she'd be a resource that was burned up, exhausted of anything and everything she had to offer.  If he was able to buy enough time, verify that she was beyond saving, then he could return her to the women's cell blocks, cut his losses and take the resulting hit to his reputation as the only real cost of trying.<br/><br/>He didn't want to take either of those options.  He had so few memories with her, from when she'd been a toddler, but they'd stayed with him.  He remembered the sparkle in her eye as she saw the princess costume he'd had tailor-made for her.  He recalled the look of consternation on her face as she'd sat at his dining room table while she practiced writing her letters.   That frustration had become awe as he'd showed her what she could accomplish once she mastered the art, penning out florid letters in cursive with a fountain pen.<br/><br/>More than once, as he prepared tea to share with Lung during one of their long discussions, he'd thought of the mock tea party he'd had with his daughter.<br/><br/>Those moments seemed farther away now than they had in the days before he'd been reunited with her.  He would never recapture them, he knew, but maybe he could find other, new memories to share with her.  A deep conversation, a father's pride at her accomplishments. - [https://parahumans.wordpress.com/2012/12/27 Excerpt] from [[Interlude 16.z]]</ref>He immediately welcomed her upon her arrival at the [[Birdcage]] .

As a villain in Brockton Bay, he would quietly execute anyone who failed him. His management style was otherwise remarkably hands-off.<ref name="I10.5">“…I suppose we’ll have to accept that we have different management styles,” Marquis said.  The camera image showed him sipping at his tea.<br/><br/>"As I understand it," Lung sounded annoyed as he spoke in his heavily accented voice, "You are saying you have ''no'' management style at all.  You have told me you operated without lieutenants to direct, no product to sell, and of the few servants you did have, you did not punish those who failed you.  I do not believe you held control of so much territory in this way."<br/><br/>"Ah, except I did those things.  If a servant failed me, I killed them.  Whatever it was, they never did it again."<br/><br/>The latent hostility in the room, Dragon noted, was ratcheting up with every exchange of dialogue.  Lung was annoyed, and he had an explosive temper.  Sometimes literally.<br/><br/>Lung folded his arms, and put down his own tea.  His tone was strained as he spoke, "Then I believe you were wrong about what you said before.  You ''do'' use fear to control others."<br/><br/>"Fear?  I didn't kill my servants in front of an audience.<br/><br/>[...]<br/><br/>I never gave it much thought.  Just an easy way to handle any problems that came up." - [http://parahumans.wordpress.com/2012/05/17 Excerpt] from [[Interlude 10.5]]</ref> He was said to be a callous man, an aspiring crime lord who didn't give a second thought to murdering heroes. [[Manpower]] described him as a "pattern killer", a perfectionist with patterns that allowed him to be predicted.<ref name=":2">Marquis had been an aspiring crime lord in the bad old days of Brockton Bay.  It had been a time when the villains had been flocking to the city to profit off the booming tech and banking sectors, to recruit mooks and henchmen from the city's unemployed dockworkers.  It had been an era when the heroes hadn't been properly established, and the villains had been confident enough that some didn't give a second thought to murdering any heroes who got in their way.  Marquis included.<br/><br/>[...]<br/><br/>Marquis had been an osteokinetic.  A manipulator of both his own bone and, provided some was exposed, the bones of his enemies.  He'd been notorious enough that she'd heard about him despite the fact that he'd been arrested more than a decade ago, that the city and the public had remembered him.  He'd lived in the outskirts of the city, residing in a large house in the woods, just beneath the mountains.<br/><br/>[...]<br/><br/>To all reports, the man had been heartless, callous.<br/><br/>[...]<br/><br/>What else did she know about Marquis?  She vaguely recalled Uncle Neil talking about the man when he'd been talking to Laserdream about villain psychology.  There were the unpredictable ones, the villains who were hard to stop because you couldn't guess where they'd strike next, but who were less practiced in what they did and made mistakes you could leverage against them.  There were also the orderly ones.  The ones who were careful, who honed their methodology to perfection, but they repeated themselves, showed patterns that a smart hero could use to predict where they struck next, and often had rules or rituals a hero could turn against them.<br/><br/>Which wasn't to say that one was smarter than the other, or that one was better.  Each posed problems for the local authorities and capes.  Marquis had fit into the latter category, the perfectionists, the pattern killers.  He'd had, as Neil explained, a warped sense of honor, underneath it all.  He didn't kill women or kids. - [https://parahumans.wordpress.com/2012/06/23 Excerpt] from [[Interlude 11h]]</ref> He later admitted to himself that he could have left Brockton Bay with his daughter at any time, but he was too enraptured with his role as a super-villain there.<ref name="16.z" />

As a cell block leader, he divided up the cigarettes they were given relatively fairly.<ref name=":3">"Which cell block are you in?" this question came from a heavyset woman that looked more like a middle aged soccer mom than a prisoner.  Lung noted, however, how each of the other girls that were on guard turned to listen when she spoke.<br/><br/><span>"W, ma'am," he spoke, taking extra care to not offend.</span><br/><br/>[...]<br/><br/>"Marquis runs your cell block, still?  Divvies up the cancer sticks from his food crates fairly enough?"<br/><br/>"Yes."  Lung reached into his pocket and retrieved a half-carton of cigarettes. - [https://parahumans.wordpress.com/2012/01/14 Excerpt] from [[Interlude 6]]</ref> His men would take first pick of the other supplies,<ref>Not every block worked the same way, though the layout and the scheduled drops were the same for each.  The advantage of Marquis' arrangement was that it kept his people relatively happy and it kept them in their place.  The lieutenants and Marquis himself got first pick of any of the items from the supplies, but nobody truly went wanting, so they generally agreed with minimal complaint. - [https://parahumans.wordpress.com/2012/12/27 Excerpt] from [[Interlude 16.z]]</ref> then then auction off the rest to the other prisoners in exchange for cigarettes. They also guarded the television sets, giving everyone a turn to change the channel and preventing them from being broken or dismantled.<ref>Tidy in appearance to the point of caricature, [[Spruce]] stood guard by the televisions, helping ensure that Block W remained the only block with a full set of working sets.  He would ensure everyone had a turn to choose the channel.  Whimper was overseeing the auction.  Everyone had already received their share of the cigarettes, which served as currency for bidding over the more in demand items of the supply drop.  There were less new blankets than there were people in the block, for example, and each drop only included maybe three or four books; always one classic and two from the recent bestseller's lists.  Good reads and books with raunchy scenes could be resold to other prisoners for a decent amount, and they would exchange hands until they were too worn to keep. - [https://parahumans.wordpress.com/2012/12/27 Excerpt] from [[Interlude 16.z]]</ref> He noted that he "wasn't a nurturer", with little experience helping those who worked under him, instead trading away those he couldn't use to other cell blocks.<ref>She wasn't the first of her kind that he'd seen.  A hollow shell.  Tabula rasa.  A blank slate. She wasn't sleeping at night, not easily, and she had frequent nightmares.<br/><br/>He'd seen others, had had two appear in his cell block, delivered by their tinker overseer.  Except he wasn't a nurturer.  He had no experience on that front.  He'd done what he could to see if he could wake them up from the neuroses that gripped them, and then he'd bartered them away to other cell blocks when he hadn't seen improvement over one or two weeks.  People who were damaged on this fundamental level tended to go one of four ways.  They recovered, which was rare; someone filled the empty vessel with an ideology; they were used as a resource, cared for so their talents could be exploited; or they were spent, burned up of whatever they had to offer, be it making things or violence.<br/><br/>He wished he'd tried his hand at fixing the two who Dragon had delivered to his block.  Maybe he'd have a better idea of how to deal with Amelia if he had. - [https://parahumans.wordpress.com/2012/12/27 Excerpt] from [[Interlude 16.z]]</ref> In fact he described himself as a "worrier" to Amy, but noted that it could be an asset.<ref name="16.z" />