New Member
How do I escape the your shadow when it's all I've ever known
Personal Text
Middle Class
Rank
Writer
Occupation
|
Nellie
Offline
Jan 17, 2022 17:36:51 GMT
He/Him
Tag me @lewislodge
|
|
Post by Lewis Lodge on Jan 17, 2022 17:51:39 GMT
thread title here | Lewis was a good talker. He always had been. No matter the medium words were easy for him to fish from his mind. As such it was not nessassarily easy to tell when he was drunk by how he was talking. Maybe his volume would be a bit louder, but really that was all the hints you got. No, the easy way to know when he was drunk was when he walked. He moved with the kind of careful steps of a man walking on ground he couldn't be sure would stay where it was. It wasn't as bad as it had been. He wasn't walking in a straight line, but it gave off the feel of someone slightly dizzy as uppose to him veering left to right. He hadn't gotten as drunk as he had before. That was something.
It took a second for the drunken haze in his brain to create a response for Benedict. "Oh..Oh um Lewis, and no, I-" He looked around at the faces, trying to see if he was the last of his party. "I think my friends have all left, it's just me now." Which made sense. He wouldn't get this bad with friends around him. He didn't need to. If he had been at home, alone, it would have been even worse. Without a crowd of people he would have gotten lost in his thoughs- Again. |
tag || @missshaw || notes || here || ▲
|
|
New Member
How do I escape the your shadow when it's all I've ever known
Personal Text
Middle Class
Rank
Writer
Occupation
|
Nellie
Offline
Jan 17, 2022 17:36:51 GMT
He/Him
Tag me @lewislodge
|
|
Post by Lewis Lodge on Dec 8, 2021 3:33:25 GMT
Paying a Debt | Lewis nodded, "Some tea would be lovely." Lewis said easily smiling a comfortable smile of someone well withing his zone. In truth he adored visiting people and being the the pressance of friends. Alone was difficult but with someone else there always seemed like the darkness of the past was stuck at the front door.
"I fear my deadline is much less pressing then yours, sometimes I can even convince my publishers to give me an extenstion, it seems to me when your enforcer decides the deadline comes theres not much that can be done." he said with a laugh. |
tag || @missshaw|| notes || here || ▲
|
|
New Member
How do I escape the your shadow when it's all I've ever known
Personal Text
Middle Class
Rank
Writer
Occupation
|
Nellie
Offline
Jan 17, 2022 17:36:51 GMT
He/Him
Tag me @lewislodge
|
|
Post by Lewis Lodge on Dec 8, 2021 2:24:28 GMT
thread title here | He didn't mean to drink so much tonight. He never meant to drink so much. He had hit his deadline, his publisher was happy, he was just going to go out and have a drink to celebrate. Then a drink turned to two, turned to several, turned to standing up and finding the ground under him was moving. He had made the mistake before though, and it would surly be an easy fix. He just had to get home where there would be a warm bed for him. Some place to lay his head and sleep off the clouds in his mind.
He did so love the clouds though, they soften the sharp corners of his thoughts so they didn't cut as harshly.
The bar jerked then, an unnatural jerking that almost knocked the young man off his feet. He grabbed onto the counter to steady himself. He closed his eyes tight, willing himself to sober up enough to walk home. When he opened his eyes there was a man in front of him, a very handsome man. Was he near Lewis's age? Surely not. No Lewis was just a kid. He was in his 20's but still felt like just a kid in his dad's suit. But the man was talking to him, asking to help him home. Was he that noticeably bad? His blond curls fell in front of his eyes and Lewis pushed them back, squeezing his eyes shut again. Did he need help getting home? No, no he knew how to get home. He just needed the blasted floor to stop moving, he would sober up outside right? Right? Maybe.
"Maybe just a little help, till I get some fresh air in my lungs. Thank you for your kindness Mr...." He waited for the attractive stranger to share his name. |
tag || @missshaw || notes || here || ▲
|
|
New Member
How do I escape the your shadow when it's all I've ever known
Personal Text
Middle Class
Rank
Writer
Occupation
|
Nellie
Offline
Jan 17, 2022 17:36:51 GMT
He/Him
Tag me @lewislodge
|
|
Post by Lewis Lodge on Dec 1, 2021 1:38:01 GMT
thread title here | Lewis stood up graciously as she entered, smilling at her. "Mrs. Bridget Bishop. It's lovely to see you, I hope I havent interupt you this fine morning." His smile was easy and carefree and he carried an air of someone absolutly comfortable in this situation. This carefree smiling person always felt so nice to inhabbit, it was always heartbreaking to leave him.
"Oh, I got these for you." He said motioning with the box in his hands. "I'm doing quite well, staying ahead of deadlines and such, I hope you fairing the same and I also hope you don't mind the intrusion, I promised your husband I'd dropp in on you every now and then while he's away, make sure you arn't to dreadfully bored held up here." He waited for her to sit, his mother teaching him long ago that there was no good reason for a man to be sitting while a women is standing, especially one with child. |
tag || @missshaw || notes || here || ▲
|
|
New Member
How do I escape the your shadow when it's all I've ever known
Personal Text
Middle Class
Rank
Writer
Occupation
|
Nellie
Offline
Jan 17, 2022 17:36:51 GMT
He/Him
Tag me @lewislodge
|
|
Post by Lewis Lodge on Nov 30, 2021 3:09:23 GMT
A not insignificant night | Lewis took a second to get his bearings. The post reading dinner was being hosted in celebration of Mr Percy Shelly's latest book was full of other writers and higher ranking members of the aristocracy who have proven to be supporters of the literary arts. It was exactly his crowd and he felt himself relaxing here in front of his pears. In general he knew the topics of conversation he was into. Someone would ask him when his next work was coming out which he would excitedly say soon. Someone else would ask where he got his bone chilling or heart wrenching ideas from, as if the same man who laughed and joked here in the glow of people couldn't possibly know anything about the dark recesses of a mans mind. He would answer that they just came to him. There would be people who would be stunned and confused at the way the man and the work seemed to not match each other, and he would reveal in their stunned expression.
"Mr Lodge, it must be so pleasing to be able to carry your fathers legacy as well as you are!" One guest at the party asked.
Now this was a question Lewis never really knew how to answer. Because the truth was yes, yes it was pleasing to carry this better then his father could have ever dreamed. To be able to afford a habit and a staff, to have his name known and celebrated all so young. It was everything his darkest thoughts wanted when he was young and curled up in a cold bed listening to his mother fret. It was exactly what he had dreamed of, and yet it was also nothing he wanted. It was constantly trying to out run his ghost. It was looking in the mirror to only see his father, a writer with a need to fill and mop of untamable blond hair. The pathetic Irony that in the end, his dad might always have that last laugh.
"It comforts me to know my father is looking at me in the after life and watching me carry the name further." Lewis answered, scilently in his mind adding 'from the frozen hell I hope he's in. |
tag || @euphoria|| notes || here || ▲
|
|
New Member
How do I escape the your shadow when it's all I've ever known
Personal Text
Middle Class
Rank
Writer
Occupation
|
Nellie
Offline
Jan 17, 2022 17:36:51 GMT
He/Him
Tag me @lewislodge
|
|
Post by Lewis Lodge on Nov 30, 2021 2:50:28 GMT
thread title here | Lewis rolled out of bed that day with his mouth feeling like it was full of cotton. That wasn't unusual though, it was how he spent most morning. Groaning he made his way to the bathroom and began the long task of pulling himself together. In his room he could hear the two women he employed as maids already starting the process of cleaning the room. He felt a pang of guild but comforted himself. He was reasonably sure that he didn't throw up last night so the room wouldn't be as bad as it had been before. He washed himself off and pulled on his clothes for the day. He needed to look respectable today, clean and sober. It wouldn't do to show up to his friends house looking like a drunk. Esspecially with his wife in her state.
He had met Mr. Vincent Shaw at a Pub about a year before his wedding. He was a bright man who was willing to shit and talk to Lewis for a few hours, which kept him sober for a few more hours then he would have been. When Vincent was sent out to fight for her Majesty's honor Lewis had promised to check up on His new young and pregnant wife. So Lewis pulled himeslf up in this morning and pulled himself together. He took his cariage to Marylebone, stopping along the way to buy a box of baked goods fresh from a baker he knew to be good. He rememberd the young Mrs Shaw had a sweet tooth. At least he hoped it was her. Either way he knew to never show up to a home empty handed.
He took a moment to breath, check himself in the reflection on the glass. He had shaven, so he looked less like Rollo Lodge, and besides the bags under his eyes there was no obvious signs of a hard night. If he was lucky he could just claim a hard sleep. He went up to the door and knocked, then allowed himself to be lead into the sitting room by her footmen. He sat there with the box of pasteries in his lap, mouth still slightly dry |
tag || @missshaw || notes || here || ▲
|
|
New Member
How do I escape the your shadow when it's all I've ever known
Personal Text
Middle Class
Rank
Writer
Occupation
|
Nellie
Offline
Jan 17, 2022 17:36:51 GMT
He/Him
Tag me @lewislodge
|
|
Post by Lewis Lodge on Nov 28, 2021 23:29:09 GMT
| ~ • ~ | Character Basics | ~ • ~ |
.:Name:.Lewis Neil Lodge
.:Nick Name:. Lou by his mother
.:Rank:.Middle Class
.:Age:.21
| ~ • ~ | Appearance | ~ • ~ |
.:Physical Appearance:.longer blond hair that curls,deep set dark brown eyes with a larger nose that he always worries throws his face dimensions off. His brow is almost always furrowed and no matter how often he shaves by the end of the night he seems to already have stubble. Some days he thinks of just allowing himself a beerd, but when he does he looks far too much like his father for his comfort.
.:Height:.Strangely tall Lewis towers about 6’5”, he finds himself awkwardly having to duck several times when going through some doorways.
.:Portrayed by:.Aaron Tveit
| ~ • ~ | Personality | ~ • ~ |
.:Personality:. Lewis was always working to get his mother to laugh, or smile. He learned young that the best defense he had against the darkness in his family was his ability to make his parents laugh. Sure, he had dark thoughts, things that bubbled up in his mind as his father ruined any joy in the Lodge household. But he kept those to himself and his writing the words trapped in his head escaping by his hands. But often he was too scared to show them to his mother and knew better then to show his father. Instead he kept them, like many things, to himself. He is a private person when it comes to those thoughts you see. Sure he publishes them now, but in public he still plays the part of the happy, funny young man. He rather enjoys that part. When he was young he learned that he was only safe when everyone's eyes were on him. At the time it was safe from his father, but now it’s safe from himself. For when he’s alone the bottle that once promised to be his friend becomes his vice, his family, his crutch, and his curse. He writes with it on his desk, 100’s of pages like a man possessed, curls up with the bottle as it whispers to him cruel, and beautiful, and cruel things.
.:Skills:. Writing, he writes like a man possessed, stories, poems and all short literature spills from his mind. As such in the years since his fathers passing, he finds himself not only meeting his fathers sales figures but surpassing them in both amount and prais. He’s also quite gifted at riding, playing violin, and drinking his anxieties away.
.:Weaknesses:.Being alone with his thoughts, as any skill requiring physical strength. He’s also a budding functioning alcoholic, but we don’t talk about that. He also has a weakness of the lungs, a side effect from a bout of pneumonia when he was young.
| ~ • ~ | History | ~ • ~ |
.:Birthplace:. London, england
.:Family:. Dorothea Lodge (mother), Rollo Lodge (father, deceased)
.:Occupation:. Writer
.:History:.Lewis was born on a cold missurable winter, 12/02 in the city of london. The snow had been preceded by rain and the two had frozen making the roads treacherous and the home in which his family lived felt like a tundra anywhere but right next to the fire. As such a doctor was unable to make it in time to assist too much with the birth. By the time he found his way through the door Lewis had already found his way to the world.
This was the first and last child his mother would ever bear, and Lewis became the heir to his fathers not insignificant fortune he had acquired through his writing. He also became the sole witness to the dysfunction and violence of the house. For you see it wasn’t long before his father found himself deep in the arms of other lovers, some human, some opioid, but all a source of his mothers suffering.
Lewis as such grew close to his mother, comforting her when his fathers cravings caused him to strike out, or going off to do several odd jobs when his father used the money meant to feed them on his lovers. It was on one of these odd jobs that Lewis was forced to walk the streets with the gas lighters in the rain and snow at the age of 10. He came down with pneumonia and his father found other uses for the saving meant to pay the doctor. While Lewis survived, he would never see his lungs return to normal.
Years passed, 8 to be exact, and life continued. But there was one event that turned the tide in the family. Lewis found himself published. He had been writing for years and in an act of desperation to help his mother he had sent some of his short stories out to see if the family name could earn more coin. It was a surprise to him that a majority of those stories were published and sold well for the first time arthur. His father was less pleased then one would think, taking this as an insult to his skills he tried to take revenge on the boy in a fit of rage, which was to be fair to him also likely fueled by his current unwilling state of sobriety and the resulting withdraws.
It was his mother who saved him that night, calming his father and suggesting that the pair of them use Lewis’s new found fortune to fund a trip away from the city. Reward themselves for raising such a bright young man who could never have made it this far without the teaching of his genius father Rollo. His fathers pride soothed by these words eventually he agreed to accompany his wife to see the White Cliffs of Dover...which would be the last place he’d ever see.
The story then goes that his father, in an drunken stupor, fell off the cliffs to his death one eavning while his wife could only watch is terror. The world knew his father to be a drunk and drug addict, it was completely plausible that he would have done such a thing. But deep in his bones Lewis knew from the look in his mothers eyes that his dad had been helped off those cliffs, but he never asked for it did not matter. Weather gravity did Rollo in on it’s own or was assisted, the Lodge’s were free of their family terror.
Lewis went on to write and write, rebuilding his fathers wealth and his family name. Soon he became more praised, more known then his father could ever dream. And soon he fell into a similar vice, as the warm embrace of alcohol helped Lewis feel warm and lift his troubles off his back. For even if Rollo was dead there his shadow loomed over the boy, and the shadow of his own sins. On the way he looked at the stable boys, and the men shirtless lifting crates on the docks. The same way he looked at the women selling themselves in the brothels. All of them elicited the same want in his soul. He thanked Gods that no one knew, and drank to the hope that no one would know, and tried not to look in the mirror to see the boy who so resembled Rollo Lodge as he leaned over a bar.
| ~ • ~ | Member Info | ~ • ~ |
.:Name or Online Alias:. Nellie .:Your Pronouns:. .:Are you 18+:.
.:How Did You Find Us:.Caution 2.0
|
|