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Description

BRAMBLES AND THORNS, THAT’S WHAT I AM

BRAM CLEARBROOKS
“Don’t think I’m going to take this lying down.”

NAME: Bram Clearbrooks
AGE: 25 years
PRONOUNS: he/him
HEIGHT: 6”1’, 185 cm

ORIGIN: ???
ARCANA: ???
SPREAD: ???

BACKGROUND

“Our family used to be hunters, did you know? We protected the edge of the woods.”

tl;dr: Born in the countryside, taught to work with blacksmith tools, moved to city, father got into debt with bad people, mother got seriously injured and hospitalized, father ditched them, lived with his siblings, got them through school, finally managed to get into college for industrial engineering with scholarships but then screwed it up.

Bram was born as the eldest son of the Clearbrook family, immigrants from the UK, in a village in rural America disconnected from the rest of the world. They were a quiet lot, the Clearbrooks. The only one who caused a fuss was the Father, too loud, too excitable for the small town. With his big dreams and wild tales, he could sway the hearts of many, but that did not fill your wallet. A gunsmith by trade, that occupation unfortunately did not garner much clientele, and thus he mainly worked as the blacksmith, fixing tools and machinery for the local farmers.
As the eldest son of three, a lot of responsibilities ended up in Bram’s hands, a fate he didn’t find too burdensome. He enjoyed busywork, whether it may have been keeping up with his younger siblings studies, helping his mother with housework or even learning the tools of the trade with his father at the forge.

To intrigue his children, Father told Bram and his siblings tales of their ancestors, crafting weapons that took down great beasts that threatened the safety of innocents, of guns and swords, of steel that burned through what preyed upon humans in the dark. Traps and mechanisms that gave you, mere humans, the edge you needed when facing the otherworldly. Bending steel to your will, that’s what human ingenuity could do— ...and that is why you should help papa clean the forge!

Perhaps that was what he enjoyed most, the heat of the fire, the clang of heavy metal on metal, the minute intricacies of putting pieces together like puzzle pieces until everything clicked together and just worked. Even outside of the wild yarns that his father spun, that Bram already had a hard time believing, the boy loved the forge. Like magic, you transformed raw materials into tools that will assist you, loyal until they fell apart.
Tools weren’t as fickle as people.

Bram never really got along with other children, his blunt and frankly rather prickly nature making him an unpleasant conversation. He had no one he could really call a friend— Perhaps a young, kind girl he could barely remember, but no, that mattered little. Family and responsibilities came first. There was no time for triviality.

Even less so when his father decided to move to the city. A startling decision, leaving the peace and quiet of the village, but one that was hard to fight with the promises of greater and brighter futures.

At the age of thirteen Bram moved to Atlantic City, his father dreaming of opening up an independent shop. There is bound to be more success in the city right? With its towering buildings and endless people, who knows where life will take them!
It lead to struggle.

Life is no tale after all, and with unplanned ventures roadblocks are bound to occur. Bram could hardly recall the details, he just remembers the empty shop, quiet dreaded conversations in the kitchen at night with his parents hunched over papers, the way his mother seemed to grow more tired by the week. Exhaustion was palpable in the air— Which just spurred Bram on to try harder.

He threw everything he had into trying to support his family. He caused no problems in school, teachers loved his work ethic (“...although he was a TERRIBLE team worker”), and dragged his younger siblings around the city for their sports and art activities (“—He grumbled throughout the entire bus trip!”) and continued to help his father every day in the workshop. Anything to ease the burden on his parents.

Even if he slowly began realizing that perhaps the biggest burden was his father.

A thought he rebuked aggressively, but began haunting him with every irresponsible decision his beloved father made. He was willing to make excuses until someone knocked on their door— Imposing men seeking his father… to collect his debts.

At the age of eighteen, whilst he was applying for college’s, Bram learned how deep his family was now in debt, his father having borrowed money from the wrong people to keep the shop up, and perhaps having dealt in weapons that move beyond simple custom jobs. As he tried to get them to leave, making the men angrier with each word he spoke, his mother tried to intervene, a foolish, spontaneous decision.

Bram had been familiar with fights, he had siblings, of course he’d know what it is like to get in a scuffle. He saw people getting injured in the movies.

But had he ever seen someone move with the intent to hurt, to maim, in the flesh? No. Not really. It was visceral, seeing his mother’s blood spill from her forehead after being slammed against the wall, the way she crumpled like a ragdoll onto the floor.

Of course he knew he was next.

That was how it worked didn’t it? The weak get picked off, eaten up by the ones stronger— simple fuel for the fire of carnage that surrounded them every day. He was weak and he could do nothing to stop them.

The only reason he survived that day was because his sister, quietly hiding in the bathroom, called the police. They didn’t come fast enough to spare him a world of hurt but… At least he wasn’t dead. He may be bleeding, torn up and hurt, oh how every muscle and bone ached, but no. He was still alive.

His father had left the city. Fled. A coward to the bone. That is how prey survives doesn’t it? It runs. Bram doesn’t know what happened to him. He doesn’t care enough to find out either.

His mother was hospitalized. She still hasn’t woken up yet.

Life hits you fast when you least expect it. Bram scrambled to try to support his family— thoughts of going to college immediately written off after the events of that night. He would like to imagine that he did a good job. He kept them alive. Couldn’t help but feel like that was a terrible bare minimum though.

His siblings, oh his siblings were wonderful. They barely asked for anything, no they were angels. There was nothing like hardships that cause kids to grow up.

Bram regretted that, he regretted every day that his brother and sister couldn’t have been children for longer. To be selfish and to be spoiled.
...maybe he was bitter he couldn’t have done the same too.

After six years of hard work and brief moments of happiness where he saw glimpses of his past family in the wreckage of his life, he managed to get both of his siblings through school. During that time he had planned— for that is what he was good at. He planned and plotted, and eventually got what he wanted.

Back to college for him— It may have not been his first choice, and not ideal in any way, but he would continue his projected path. Learn proper engineering, to design and build the tools that enriched so many lives…

Well built tools are reliable. They are not fickle. They aren’t stupid.

Bram on the other hand? He may just be a complete idiot.

He doesn’t like talking about how he got kicked out of college. Long story short he went and punched a professor that was in his words “—a total piece of shit bastard.” Either way he ended up with that on his academic record and there was no way he was staying a student with that.

As he walked out of the building, having hit another low point in his life, the reflection in the window next to him started talking at him.

“Do you sincerely possess the desire to live?”

What a stupid question.

Of course he did.

PERSONALITY

Pragmatic | Blunt | Aggressive | Anxious | Paranoid | Hard working | Responsible | Scared

Embittered, prickly and vicious, Bram is direct and blunt to a fault. There is hardly ever a time he manages to have a conversation where he doesn’t antagonize every individual in the room, somehow manage to offend someone or shove his entire foot down his throat. Frankly most people would call him rather mean, and well they wouldn’t be wrong! There is not much kindness found in his words, for he never saw much meaning in it.

Words can do very little in his world. Actions are everything.

Whilst you might think his bark is worse than his bite, he is vicious in that regard too, as he addresses all tasks and obstacles with a sort of aggressiveness that you wouldn't expect from a guy that fusses over grocery sales and the proper laundry cleaners. When faced with obstacles there is a quiet, almost desperate, pragmatism in the roads he takes. What is important to keep? What is okay to lose? All is weighed and if it comes down to it, not much is too precious to be sacrificed. The less you value the less you have to lose.

Whilst you can’t say many positive things about him, he at least is very reliable. He would rather swallow needles than go back on his word— Even if that means he makes very, very few promises. If given a task he will do his best to complete it, and if something tries to get in the way? There will be hell to pay.

Planning ahead is another strength he has, although it may just manifest due to his endless anxiety and paranoia that somewhere, someone is messing everything up, and that someone may just be himself. He is constantly afraid something unexpected will ruin his life and the lives of people he cares for, which inevitably ends up with him trying to account for every awful scenario his head can possibly conjure.

Which of course makes him even less of a pleasant conversationalist. After all who’d be willing to put up with an eternal pessimist?

He cares little for whether people like him though. As long as he does what he has to— Nothing else matters.

STRENGTHS | WEAKNESSES

STRENGTHS
Bram works hard, he will put his everything into his responsibilities. With a technical mind and a gift for scheduling, planning and everything that comes with micromanagement, if needed Bram will get things done. He doesn’t shy away from thinking independently and can find faults and imperfections with ease within machinery and creations. He is also a quick learner, and adapts readily in unexpected situations. He finds a true joy in survival— And victory.

WEAKNESSES
Aggressive idiot would unfortunately be also a good way to describe Bram. Bram lacks tact and finesse when it comes to the heart of people, and anything that isn’t a manmade construct. He is slow to trust and all too ready to attack quickly— even when it’s not the wisest choice to make. He also easily falls victim to an urge for vengeance, to hurt the ones who have hurt others doubly so. There is no mercy, and cruelty has its grips in his heart tightly. He’d rather burn out than relent. Anger will quickly cloud his foresight and that is when his plans crumble and fall apart.

COMBAT

Bram goes into every fight assuming his opponent is infinitely stronger than him. Does that make him want to run away? Nope! Instead he tries to gather as many advantages as possible to him, making sure that the odds are stacked in his favor— And then he strikes hard and with no hesitation.

In regards to methods, he prefers keeping close combat to a minimum. If he could take out an enemy from far away, he will immediately take that option over any other. In close combat he is a dirty and practical fighter, gladly using the environment in his favor. Honor and grace have no place in combat.

He is very proud of his excellent aim with long range weaponry.

NOTES

He used to go hunting for small game with his father.
Bram likes reading quite a lot actually!
His favorite food is any type of stew.
He isn’t good with dogs.

Description

BRAMBLES AND THORNS, THAT’S WHAT I AM

BRAM CLEARBROOKS
“Don’t think I’m going to take this lying down.”

NAME: Bram Clearbrooks
AGE: 25 years
PRONOUNS: he/him
HEIGHT: 6”1’, 185 cm

ORIGIN: ???
ARCANA: ???
SPREAD: ???

BACKGROUND

“Our family used to be hunters, did you know? We protected the edge of the woods.”

tl;dr: Born in the countryside, taught to work with blacksmith tools, moved to city, father got into debt with bad people, mother got seriously injured and hospitalized, father ditched them, lived with his siblings, got them through school, finally managed to get into college for industrial engineering with scholarships but then screwed it up.

Bram was born as the eldest son of the Clearbrook family, immigrants from the UK, in a village in rural America disconnected from the rest of the world. They were a quiet lot, the Clearbrooks. The only one who caused a fuss was the Father, too loud, too excitable for the small town. With his big dreams and wild tales, he could sway the hearts of many, but that did not fill your wallet. A gunsmith by trade, that occupation unfortunately did not garner much clientele, and thus he mainly worked as the blacksmith, fixing tools and machinery for the local farmers.
As the eldest son of three, a lot of responsibilities ended up in Bram’s hands, a fate he didn’t find too burdensome. He enjoyed busywork, whether it may have been keeping up with his younger siblings studies, helping his mother with housework or even learning the tools of the trade with his father at the forge.

To intrigue his children, Father told Bram and his siblings tales of their ancestors, crafting weapons that took down great beasts that threatened the safety of innocents, of guns and swords, of steel that burned through what preyed upon humans in the dark. Traps and mechanisms that gave you, mere humans, the edge you needed when facing the otherworldly. Bending steel to your will, that’s what human ingenuity could do— ...and that is why you should help papa clean the forge!

Perhaps that was what he enjoyed most, the heat of the fire, the clang of heavy metal on metal, the minute intricacies of putting pieces together like puzzle pieces until everything clicked together and just worked. Even outside of the wild yarns that his father spun, that Bram already had a hard time believing, the boy loved the forge. Like magic, you transformed raw materials into tools that will assist you, loyal until they fell apart.
Tools weren’t as fickle as people.

Bram never really got along with other children, his blunt and frankly rather prickly nature making him an unpleasant conversation. He had no one he could really call a friend— Perhaps a young, kind girl he could barely remember, but no, that mattered little. Family and responsibilities came first. There was no time for triviality.

Even less so when his father decided to move to the city. A startling decision, leaving the peace and quiet of the village, but one that was hard to fight with the promises of greater and brighter futures.

At the age of thirteen Bram moved to Atlantic City, his father dreaming of opening up an independent shop. There is bound to be more success in the city right? With its towering buildings and endless people, who knows where life will take them!
It lead to struggle.

Life is no tale after all, and with unplanned ventures roadblocks are bound to occur. Bram could hardly recall the details, he just remembers the empty shop, quiet dreaded conversations in the kitchen at night with his parents hunched over papers, the way his mother seemed to grow more tired by the week. Exhaustion was palpable in the air— Which just spurred Bram on to try harder.

He threw everything he had into trying to support his family. He caused no problems in school, teachers loved his work ethic (“...although he was a TERRIBLE team worker”), and dragged his younger siblings around the city for their sports and art activities (“—He grumbled throughout the entire bus trip!”) and continued to help his father every day in the workshop. Anything to ease the burden on his parents.

Even if he slowly began realizing that perhaps the biggest burden was his father.

A thought he rebuked aggressively, but began haunting him with every irresponsible decision his beloved father made. He was willing to make excuses until someone knocked on their door— Imposing men seeking his father… to collect his debts.

At the age of eighteen, whilst he was applying for college’s, Bram learned how deep his family was now in debt, his father having borrowed money from the wrong people to keep the shop up, and perhaps having dealt in weapons that move beyond simple custom jobs. As he tried to get them to leave, making the men angrier with each word he spoke, his mother tried to intervene, a foolish, spontaneous decision.

Bram had been familiar with fights, he had siblings, of course he’d know what it is like to get in a scuffle. He saw people getting injured in the movies.

But had he ever seen someone move with the intent to hurt, to maim, in the flesh? No. Not really. It was visceral, seeing his mother’s blood spill from her forehead after being slammed against the wall, the way she crumpled like a ragdoll onto the floor.

Of course he knew he was next.

That was how it worked didn’t it? The weak get picked off, eaten up by the ones stronger— simple fuel for the fire of carnage that surrounded them every day. He was weak and he could do nothing to stop them.

The only reason he survived that day was because his sister, quietly hiding in the bathroom, called the police. They didn’t come fast enough to spare him a world of hurt but… At least he wasn’t dead. He may be bleeding, torn up and hurt, oh how every muscle and bone ached, but no. He was still alive.

His father had left the city. Fled. A coward to the bone. That is how prey survives doesn’t it? It runs. Bram doesn’t know what happened to him. He doesn’t care enough to find out either.

His mother was hospitalized. She still hasn’t woken up yet.

Life hits you fast when you least expect it. Bram scrambled to try to support his family— thoughts of going to college immediately written off after the events of that night. He would like to imagine that he did a good job. He kept them alive. Couldn’t help but feel like that was a terrible bare minimum though.

His siblings, oh his siblings were wonderful. They barely asked for anything, no they were angels. There was nothing like hardships that cause kids to grow up.

Bram regretted that, he regretted every day that his brother and sister couldn’t have been children for longer. To be selfish and to be spoiled.
...maybe he was bitter he couldn’t have done the same too.

After six years of hard work and brief moments of happiness where he saw glimpses of his past family in the wreckage of his life, he managed to get both of his siblings through school. During that time he had planned— for that is what he was good at. He planned and plotted, and eventually got what he wanted.

Back to college for him— It may have not been his first choice, and not ideal in any way, but he would continue his projected path. Learn proper engineering, to design and build the tools that enriched so many lives…

Well built tools are reliable. They are not fickle. They aren’t stupid.

Bram on the other hand? He may just be a complete idiot.

He doesn’t like talking about how he got kicked out of college. Long story short he went and punched a professor that was in his words “—a total piece of shit bastard.” Either way he ended up with that on his academic record and there was no way he was staying a student with that.

As he walked out of the building, having hit another low point in his life, the reflection in the window next to him started talking at him.

“Do you sincerely possess the desire to live?”

What a stupid question.

Of course he did.

PERSONALITY

Pragmatic | Blunt | Aggressive | Anxious | Paranoid | Hard working | Responsible | Scared

Embittered, prickly and vicious, Bram is direct and blunt to a fault. There is hardly ever a time he manages to have a conversation where he doesn’t antagonize every individual in the room, somehow manage to offend someone or shove his entire foot down his throat. Frankly most people would call him rather mean, and well they wouldn’t be wrong! There is not much kindness found in his words, for he never saw much meaning in it.

Words can do very little in his world. Actions are everything.

Whilst you might think his bark is worse than his bite, he is vicious in that regard too, as he addresses all tasks and obstacles with a sort of aggressiveness that you wouldn't expect from a guy that fusses over grocery sales and the proper laundry cleaners. When faced with obstacles there is a quiet, almost desperate, pragmatism in the roads he takes. What is important to keep? What is okay to lose? All is weighed and if it comes down to it, not much is too precious to be sacrificed. The less you value the less you have to lose.

Whilst you can’t say many positive things about him, he at least is very reliable. He would rather swallow needles than go back on his word— Even if that means he makes very, very few promises. If given a task he will do his best to complete it, and if something tries to get in the way? There will be hell to pay.

Planning ahead is another strength he has, although it may just manifest due to his endless anxiety and paranoia that somewhere, someone is messing everything up, and that someone may just be himself. He is constantly afraid something unexpected will ruin his life and the lives of people he cares for, which inevitably ends up with him trying to account for every awful scenario his head can possibly conjure.

Which of course makes him even less of a pleasant conversationalist. After all who’d be willing to put up with an eternal pessimist?

He cares little for whether people like him though. As long as he does what he has to— Nothing else matters.

STRENGTHS | WEAKNESSES

STRENGTHS
Bram works hard, he will put his everything into his responsibilities. With a technical mind and a gift for scheduling, planning and everything that comes with micromanagement, if needed Bram will get things done. He doesn’t shy away from thinking independently and can find faults and imperfections with ease within machinery and creations. He is also a quick learner, and adapts readily in unexpected situations. He finds a true joy in survival— And victory.

WEAKNESSES
Aggressive idiot would unfortunately be also a good way to describe Bram. Bram lacks tact and finesse when it comes to the heart of people, and anything that isn’t a manmade construct. He is slow to trust and all too ready to attack quickly— even when it’s not the wisest choice to make. He also easily falls victim to an urge for vengeance, to hurt the ones who have hurt others doubly so. There is no mercy, and cruelty has its grips in his heart tightly. He’d rather burn out than relent. Anger will quickly cloud his foresight and that is when his plans crumble and fall apart.

COMBAT

Bram goes into every fight assuming his opponent is infinitely stronger than him. Does that make him want to run away? Nope! Instead he tries to gather as many advantages as possible to him, making sure that the odds are stacked in his favor— And then he strikes hard and with no hesitation.

In regards to methods, he prefers keeping close combat to a minimum. If he could take out an enemy from far away, he will immediately take that option over any other. In close combat he is a dirty and practical fighter, gladly using the environment in his favor. Honor and grace have no place in combat.

He is very proud of his excellent aim with long range weaponry.

NOTES

He used to go hunting for small game with his father.
Bram likes reading quite a lot actually!
His favorite food is any type of stew.
He isn’t good with dogs.