Profile
Personal Photo

No Photo

Options
Custom Title
Lewis Young doesn't have a custom title currently.
Personal Info
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
Website: No Information
Interests
No Information
Other Information
Square Gif: No Information
Alias: Calypso
Age: Thirty-Nine
Occupation: Ex SRU Officer/Albion Guard
Application: http://lostbeforethedawn.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=134
Shipper: http://lostbeforethedawn.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=234
MP3: No Information
Rectangle Gif: http://45.media.tumblr.com/034a68da2a794970b3dcd1d6a2dbe02f/tumblr_mn1ayfqHTf1rjkzeqo3_250.gif
Relationship Status: Single
Quote: Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.
Statistics
Joined: 19-November 15
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: May 1 2017, 10:35 AM
Local Time: Sep 23 2017, 12:46 PM
19 posts (0 per day)
( 1.02% of total forum posts )
Contact Information
AIM No Information
Yahoo No Information
GTalk No Information
MSN No Information
SKYPE No Information
Unread Message Message: Click here
Unread Message Email: Click Here
Signature
View Signature

Lewis Young

Royal Guard

Topics
Posts
Comments
Friends
My Content
Aug 11 2016, 01:59 PM
[dohtml]
<div class='meg-round'>
<img src='https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/446708369878179840/xEDgcNWo_400x400.jpeg' />
<h1>Fendrel Sadon</h1>
<h2><3</h2>

<b>"Sit. No, <i>sit</i>."</b> Lou gestured down with his hand, before sighing as the husky puppy lay down instead, looking at his master with adoring eyes and his tongue hanging out. <b>"Sit,"</b> Lou repeated, going round and pressing the puppy's rump down, only for it to pop up again the second Lou removed his hand. Giving a bark, the tiny creature whirled about and headbutted Lou's hand affectionately, until the man gave in and stroked his tiny head. Chuckling at the creature's antics, Lou shook his head. <b>"You're trouble, you are."</b><br><br>

There were plenty of things that Lou still didn't understand about Albion and how it worked. Case in point: why he'd woken up to three puppies bouncing on his bed and licking his face. He had no idea where the puppies had come from, nor who they belonged to. Or even if they had any owners, because the trio of scoundrels were all without collars. He didn't know what to do with the tiny rascals, but he did know that he didn't want to turn them into a pound. Not that he knew if Albion even had a pound, but most places had, didn't they? But then, Albion wasn't exactly <i>normal</i> by any stretch of the imagination, though the crazy world had certainly grown on him.<br><br>

So he'd fed the tykes some leftover chicken from last night's dinner, and had set about training them. He'd been joking with Greg about starting up a K-9 unit for the longest of times, but they'd never gotten around to doing it. The lack of dogs was the first big obstacle, and besides there was never enough time left in the day after all their regular duties. But now, Lou really had no excuse to do it. He had puppies and he had time off work. Albion K-9 Unit coming up!<br><br>

Except, as could be expected, none of the rascals actually wanted to listen or do anything besides play. All they wanted was to chew shoes, play-fight, and generally just ignore Lou. Not that the officer had expected things to be easy.<br><br>

The bell to the agency sounded and as a customer walked in, Fang gave a joyous bark and tore out into the street. A string of curse words sounded and the male rushed after the furry ball of terror. <i>Shit!</i> Knowing Lou's luck, the fluffball would get lost within the busy streets of Bowerstone, or get trodden or trampled. <i>Bloody little terror.</i><br><br>

But he saw the bundle of terror up ahead, and as he ran for him, the puppy pounced on a stranger's boots and start mauling them. <b>"Fang, get off him!"</b> he yelled, rushing up and scooping up the puppy who desperately tried to claw his way out of his hold and return to chewing up the shoes. <b>"Fang, stop it,"</b> he hissed in embarrassment, but the puppy paid him no mind and continued attempting to wriggle out of his grasp. He turned his attentions to the stranger, giving him a sheepish smile. <b>"I'm sorry. I only got the rascal today. Him and his brothers have a thing for shoes."</b> <br><br>

<h3><b>NOTES:</b> YOU'RE WELCOME FOR THE CUTENESS <3</h3>
<div class='zeddit'>
<a href='http://cttw.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=868'>&</a>
</div>
</div>

<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Roboto' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <style>#userlinks { z-index: 9999; } .meg-round { width: 350px; padding: 0 0 10px; margin: 15px auto; background-color: #F5F5F5; box-shadow: 0 0 0 10px #F5F5F5, 0 0 0 11px #ccc; border-top: 100px solid #171717; position: relative; text-align: justify; font-family: 'Roboto', sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: #333; line-height: 1.4em; letter-spacing: 0.03em; } .meg-round img { -webkit-border-radius: 100px; -moz-border-radius: 100px; border-radius: 100px; height: 150px; width: 150px; display: block; margin: -95px auto 0; background-color: #F5F5F5; padding: 10px; position: relative; z-index: 3; } .meg-round h1, .meg-round h2, .meg-round h3 { width: 175px; font-weight: normal; color: #F5F5F5; background-color: #272727; font-size: 9px; position: absolute; margin: 1px 0; padding: 0px 10px; text-transform: uppercase; } .meg-round h1 { top: 0; left: 0; text-align: left; height: 25px; line-height: 25px; } .meg-round h2 { top: 0; right: 0; text-align: right; height: 25px; line-height: 25px; } .meg-round h3 { position: relative; width: 330px; padding: 3px 10px; margin-top: 20px; } .meg-round p { margin-right: 20px; margin-left: 20px; } .meg-round p:nth-child(4) { padding-top: 0px; margin-top: 0px; } .meg-round p:last-child { padding-bottom: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; } .zeddit { position: absolute; bottom: -30px; left: 0; right: 0; text-align: center; }</style>[/dohtml]
May 2 2016, 12:31 AM
[dohtml]<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Merriweather:900italic' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Kaushan+Script' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Amatic+SC:700' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Open+Sans+Condensed:300' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>
<style type="text/css">
a:hover {
font-weight:bold;
text-transform: uppercase;
color: #684b71;
}</style>

<html>
<div style='width: 398px; background-color: fafafa; border-left:solid 1px #cbcdd7; border-right: solid 1px #cbcdd7; border-top:solid 1px #cbcdd7; border-bottom:solid 1px #cbcdd7;'>
<div style='width: 400px;'> <div style=" font-family: 'Kaushan Script'; font-size:38px; color:#864665; letter-spacing:-1px; text-align:center; padding-bottom: 14px; margin-top: 8px; padding-right: 8px; ">We could be immortals</div>

<center><div style="width: 375px; font-family: Amatic SC; text-transform: lowercase; margin-top: -5px; line-height:34%; font-size:18px; color: #684b71;"> I'll be the watcher of the eternal flame. I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams.
</div></center>

<center><div style="width:375px; text-align:justify; font-family:calibri; font-size:12px; color:#555;line-height:90%;"><p><br>

Lou had completely given up on counting how many weeks it had been since he'd arrived into this strange land. It had been several months, that much he at least knew, but there was no point in keeping track any more. There was nothing special to count down the days to here; all the holidays that they'd celebrated back in Toronto were truly null and void now. Birthdays were the only thing that mattered now, really; to his credit, he'd remembered Spike's birthday just in time and bought him a Babycakes 2.0 to ride around while on patrol.<p>

Today found Lou at the Mourningwood cemetery. It wasn't one of his favourite places, not least because of the undead skeletons that constantly infested the place. The cemetery made him think of home, of the tombstone that his parents must have erected for him after the phone call that would have gone along the lines of <i>"we regret to inform you, but your son died in the line of duty. We are extremely sorry for your loss"</i>. He could almost hear Greg's voice saying the words. His mom must have cried and his dad would have held her close, not crying himself but his world shattered.<p>

What he wouldn't give to let them know that he was ok. He'd written dozens of letters, hoping that the portals would be kind enough to pick one or two up and deposit them back home. He even carried around a letter with him at all times in the desperate hope that he might run into a portal depositing someone and could throw the letter in before it closed. But the stack of letters back in his room went untouched, nor did he have much luck with running into a portal.<p>

All things considered though, it could have been worse. Much worse. He'd been lucky in that he'd run into Spike, and later on they'd found Greg. He'd managed to make a few friends in the Guard, had a place to stay, and a job that was vaguely similar to what he'd had before. He wasn't homeless, broke, or friendless. And at the end of the day, that was all that mattered. Plus he was in Mourningwood, which was much nicer in terms of monsters to fight. He'd had enough 'roid-raging werewolves to last him a lifetime. <p>

The sound of a gun being fired caught his attention. He broke off into a run to the direction of the shot, gun at the ready as usual. Over the months he'd become partial to swords around Hollow Men to save on ammunition, but he wasn't about to go charging in without knowing the situation. He skidded to a halt several meters off, quickly assessing the situation. A civilian had run into an ambush. Easy enough. Aiming, he shot at a skeleton that was creeping up behind the stranger, taking a few steps forward. <b>"Blasted things love loud noises. Never could figure out why,"</b> he called out in way of greeting, stowing his gun away and pulling his sword out as he came up closer, slicing through two more that began running towards him. <b>"You'd think they'd learn to stay away from things that would try to kill them..."</b><p>






<center><div style="width: 375px; font-family: Amatic SC; margin-top: 15px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height:34%; font-size:18px; color: #684b71; text-transform: lowercase;">I try to picture me without you but I can't.
</div></center>

<center><div style="width: 375px; font-family:times; font-size:16px; color:#cbcdd7; text-transform: lowercase;">_______________________________________________</div></center>

<center><div style="width: 375px; font-family:'Open Sans Condensed'; margin-top: 15px; margin-bottom: 10px; line-height:34%; font-size:10px; color:#191970; text-transform: uppercase;"> notes - civilian could be whoever | outfit - <a href="http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/fable/images/9/9d/Military_Suit.png">military suit</a> | <a href=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKVcVSYmesU>music: immortals (fall out boy)</a> </div></center>

</div></div></div>
<div style="width:450px; text-align: center; font-family: tahoma; font-size:11px; color:#646060; margin-top:5px; line-height:100%;"><small><small><small><small><small><small>

<b><big><big>( </b></big></big><a href=http://cttw.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=2216>♛ C R E D I T ♛</a><b><big><big> )

</b></big></big></small></small></small></small></small></small></div>
</center></html>[/dohtml]
Feb 22 2016, 02:26 PM
[dohtml]<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Mrs+Saint+Delafield' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background-color: #F0F0F0; padding: 10px; width: 300px; border-left: 8px solid #b5cdcd;">
<div style="width: 280px; padding: 10px; background-color: #ffffff; font-family: tahoma; color: #000000; font-size: 9px; line-height: 95%; text-align: justify;">

<div style="width: 280px; font-family: 'Mrs Saint Delafield', cursive; font-size: 20px; color: #000000; line-height: 90%; letter-spacing: 1px;">Spike,</div>

<p>
Go the the royal stables. Keep checking the stalls on your left until you see a familiar name. Happy birthday, buddy.

<div style="width: 280px; font-family: 'Mrs Saint Delafield', cursive; font-size: 20px; color: #000000; line-height: 90%; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align:right;">- Lou</div>
</div>

<div style="with: 300px; font-family: courier new, serif; font-size: 4px; line-height: 70%; text-align: right;">x</div></center>[/dohtml]

OOC: This is Babycakes.
Nov 19 2015, 11:05 PM
[dohtml]<style type="text/css">.app-container { position: relative; width: 300px; height: 450px; border-left: 180px solid #690101; padding: 0px; font-family: 'Alice', serif; }
.tab { float: left; }
.app-container2 {position: relative; height: 450px; width: 300px;}
.tab label { display: block; width: 100px; cursor: pointer; background: #3a1922; color: #c8c1c3; padding: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: right; margin-left: -1px; position: absolute; top: 120px; left: -119px; }
.tab [type=radio] { display: none; }
.app-ooc { min-width: 120px; max-width: 120px; padding: 10px; position: absolute; text-align: right; left: -145px; bottom: 20px; color: #c8c1c3; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1; text-transform: uppercase; }
.app-name { position: absolute; bottom: 30px; background-color: #690101; color: #c8c1c3; padding: 15px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; width: 210px; font-size: 19px; left: 30px; opacity: 0; }
.app-intro { position: absolute; width: 220px; opacity: 0; top: 110px; margin-left: 35px; }
.app-intro3 { background-color: #690101; color: #c8c1c3; padding: 4px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; width: 220px; font-size: 12px; margin-bottom: 3px; }
.app-freestyle { opacity: 0; position: absolute; top: 5px; left: 5px; right: 5px; color: #1b0309; background-color: rgba(255,255,255,.7); padding: 4px; font-size: 14px; line-height: .9; letter-spacing: 1px; height: 430px; text-align: justify; }
.app-title { text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; font-size: 20px; font-style: italic; }
.app-bar { background-color: #C73B3B; width: 10px; height: 35px; }
[type=radio]:checked ~ label { background-color: #C73B3B; color: #c8c1c3; z-index: 2; }
[type=radio]:checked ~ label ~ .app-freestyle { z-index: 1; opacity: 1; }
[type=radio]:checked ~ .app-name { z-index: 1; opacity: 1; }
[type=radio]:checked ~ .app-intro { z-index: 1; opacity: 1; }
.app-shimmer { width: 480px; text-align: right; margin-top: -4px; font-size: 11px; text-transform: lowercase; }</style>

<center><div class="app-container" style="background: url(http://i68.servimg.com/u/f68/17/13/53/41/louapp11.jpg);"><div class="app-container2">

<div class="app-ooc">
Calypso. PM. GMT+12.
</div>

<div class="tab">
<input type="radio" id="tab-1" name="tab-group-1" checked>
<label for="tab-1">Cover</label>
<div class="app-name">
Lewis Young
</div>
</div>

<div class="tab">
<input type="radio" id="tab-2" name="tab-group-1">
<label for="tab-2" style="margin-top: 50px;">Basics</label>
<div class="app-intro">
<div class="app-intro3">Thirty Nine</div>
<div class="app-intro3">Lawful Good</div>
<div class="app-intro3">Displaced SRU Officer</div>
<div class="app-intro3">Heterosexual</div>
<div class="app-intro3">Single</div>
<div class="app-intro3">Albion Guard</div>
<div class="app-intro3">Mark Taylor</div>
</div>
</div>

<div class="tab">
<input type="radio" id="tab-3" name="tab-group-1">
<label for="tab-3" style="margin-top: 100px;">Freestyle</label>
<div class="app-freestyle">
<table><td><div class="app-bar"></div></td><td><div class="app-title">Lewis Young</div></td></table>
<div style="overflow: auto; height: 385px; margin-top: 5px;">doctor - noun doc·tor \ˈdäk-tər\ <br>
a person who is skilled in the science of medicine : a person who is trained and licensed to treat sick and injured people<p>
"Mama, mama, look!" the tiny child garbled, tearing into the apartment. He brought his cupped hands to his mother's face, face streaked with tears and worry etched all over his tiny features. A swallow lay in his small hands, its minuscule body barely moving. Carefully Sarena took the bird from her son's hands, a tender smile creasing her features. "It's just a broken wing, darling. It'll be fine. Come, let's help it."<p>

Lou had always loved the idea of being a doctor. He didn't really care what kind of doctor he became, whether it was a people-doctor or an animal-doctor. That didn't matter, as long as he was helping. As long as he was saving things, like his mom had saved the tiny swallow. Other kids wanted to be astronauts, lawyers, teachers. He didn't relish the thought of such a mundane job. Every day the same thing, every day the same people. No, he wanted more. He wanted to help people, help living things. 'A doctor,' he announced to everyone when they asked Lou what he was going to be when he grew up. The adults would seem pleased with this answer, and the boy would grin proudly. Clearly even the adults approved of such things; he had to do it.<p>

bookworm - noun book·worm \ˈbu̇k-ˌwərm\<br>
a person who likes to read books and who spends a lot of time reading and studying<p>

Their family wasn't the richest of families, but they were happy and the love that the trio had for each other almost made up for everything. Lou didn't always have the newest toy or the latest bike, but instead he had the company of books. His mother had taken him to the local library one balmy afternoon to escape the heat, and the boy had stood in the doorway for ages, just looking at all the books. So many adventures to be had! When it came time for school, he loved nothing more than to spend his lunchtimes holed up in the school library, reading to his hearts content, then taking ten books home to finish at home. He loved the escape that it bought him from the real world in which he had little friends and was picked upon. But more than that, he loved the adventure that only books could take her on. Distant planets full of treasure, moons where it rained diamonds, deep space where star whales swum and sung their song; Lou visited them all.<p>

fate - noun \ˈfāt\
a power that is believed to control what happens in the future; the things that will happen to a person or thing<p>

It certainly didn't help his confidence that he'd been picked on for the majority of his school years, and it wasn't any better when he got to secondary school. He wasn't sure quite how he was going to get through high-school. He was too shy around people, didn't know how to communicate despite the thousands of books he'd read. Lou didn't relish the thought of spending his high-school years tucked away in the library, waiting until it was over. He wanted to get out, he wanted to meet people. He just didn't know how. It was by complete chance that a classmate took pity on him on their first day and took Lou under his wing. The pair became inseparable.<p>

gang - noun \ˈgaŋ\
a group of criminals; a group of young people who do illegal things together and who often fight against other gangs; a group of people who are friends and who do things together<p>

Later in life he'd mention how it "it takes a village" to raise a child. While his parents did the best they could, they weren't always home or around when Lou needed them. Lou quickly learned that Tom was part of a gang, and at first that excited the teenager. One friend was great, but it would be nice to have a few more. But as time went on, he learned that things weren't as squeaky clean within the gang as he'd thought, and though he desperately wanted to fit in, he couldn't bring himself to commit to the gang completely. He liked rules too much, was too afraid of getting caught by the police and disappointing his parents. He made a point of being there for Tom. He was, after all, his best friend, and best friends couldn't bail on one another. But he never hung out with the rest of the gang, always begged off when they were going to the park or to one another's houses. As he grew older, he began to slowly part ways from Tom. Lou cared for him deeply, and was always there when Tommy needed him, but they were just too different.<p>

grief - noun \ˈgrēf\
deep sadness caused especially by someone's death<p>

He cried for a week when he found out about Tommy's death. It had been a drive-by shooting, some sort of territorial gang war and his friend just happened to get caught in the cross-fire. It didn't help his grieving when the days turned to weeks, the weeks into months, and the culprits still weren't caught. And so Lou decided that he wanted to help the world in another way, in a different way than stitching up people. He wanted to help bring justice to the world, wanted to help keep criminals and bad guys off the streets. So he trained to be a police officer. A far cry from his childhood doctor dreams, but he could help people just as much in this uniform as he could in the other. As the years passed, he decided he wanted more and applied to the SRU. He hadn't actually expected to get in, but it was one of the happiest moments in his life when he did. Team One quickly became his second family, and he quickly grew close with Spike Scarlatti who became like a brother to him. <p>

sacrifice - noun sac·ri·fice, \ˈsa-krə-ˌfīs
the act of giving up something that you want to keep especially in order to get or do something else or to help someone<p>

Spike was rambling on about ways to get him off the landmine in one piece, but Lou wasn't listening. He knew there was only one way this could play out, and that now there was only the important matter of one life being lost versus two. Spike was his best friend, and Lou wouldn't even entertain the thought of making Spike go down with him. He had to do it alone. No casualties, especially none that were family. He made all the appropriate responses to get his friend to run back to the car. One more thing and it was over. Taking his phone out, he called home. "Just want to say I love you guys. No, everything's good. I'm just, uh... I'm just at work." Hanging up, he switched on the radio. "Spike... It's gonna be ok..." For a long moment he looked at his friend and at his team. They were like family to him and he hated that he was going to put them through such misery. But he had to do it, before Spike could come back. He didn't want anyone else to get hurt. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. And then he stepped off.
</div>
</div>
</div>

</div></div>
<div class="app-shimmer"><a href="http://shine.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=16439">▼ ShimmeringWitchy</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
Last Visitors


Jan 6 2017, 08:14 PM




Jan 6 2017, 08:14 PM




Oct 5 2016, 10:37 AM



Comments
No comments posted.
Add Comment


skin by bonbon. mini profile by ames of shine. hover descriptions macy @ shine. CUSTOM STATS BY JOEI @ SHINE. CFS Script by Black