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Dram

All of us, we run from the coming of the end, but few, if any, can ever escape it.

1 · 63 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by AugmentationAudit

Description

Name: Dram.

Race: Human.

Gender: Male.

Age: Unable to determine due to complete societal breakdown. Approximately thirty years of age.

Place of Birth: Human drifter colony on Beta-Lahal.

Height: 171cm.

Weight: 72kg.

Body Type: Muscular.

Skin: Light brown.

Eyes: Naturally brown, though the left eye has blued due to blindness.

Hair: Dark brown, thinning, with a heavily receding hairline.

Scars: Extensive scarring to the face, neck and arms. Right hand is mutilated, missing three fingers and a section of the palm. Has an artificial right leg below the knee.

Family: He was raised by his older sister, Lass, who he is very close to.

Sexual Orientation: Straight.

Children: None.



Dram:

How would you describe your life overall? I wouldn’t. I’m alive.

What is your most memorable moment? That’s none of your business, piss off.

What has been the most important event in your life? Also none of your business. Why haven’t you gone away yet?

What do you consider your greatest achievement? Right now? Not punching you in the face. Seriously, if you value your face, fuck off and leave me alone.

What is your number one regret? Not killing you the second you opened your mouth, clearly. Go. Away.

When were you the most afraid? I’m not listening to any more of this bullshit.

What is your greatest fear? Why? No comment.

What is the most honourable or “good” thing you’ve ever done? I haven’t fucking killed the jackass asking me stupid questions yet. I think that’s a bloody miracle.

What is the most “evil” thing you have ever done? I’m contemplating doing it right now, but frankly, I think I’d be doing the universe a favour if I cut off your dick then shoved it so far down your throat that you choked on it.

-no further questions-

History

In a universe where mighty civilisations are falling like dominoes, where war, famine and anarchy spreads through once opulent worlds, the few who remain flee in the hopes of finding something better. There is rumoured a paradise where a second chance of life can be had, but not only must hopefuls find it; they must also pay the necessary price if they are to enter.

Dram, born in a remote drifter colony shortly before the fall of the last of the human empire, and raised by his older sister, Lass, went to war as an adolescent. As the dregs of his society destroyed themselves, he fled, and his sister left human space in the hopes of finding him, which ultimately saved him. When humanity brought Armageddon down upon itself, they survived on a remote alien world with the few others who had deserted or fled.

Bitter, and scarred, but willing to be hopeful for his sister’s sake if not his own, Dram has sold everything for the potential key to paradise. Now, all he has to do is find a way to the fabled Ancestors to present his offering and name his price.

So begins...

Dram's Story

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The universe could fall to bloody tatters, swallowed in the wake of some great, unstoppable force that none could predict, let alone halt, and yet still there would be bars and the hopeless fools that drank in them. Dram did not drown his sorrows, for there was very little in his life that he was sorry for, but the burn of increasingly expensive liquor at the end of the world was a thing that he relished all the same.

Dram, with his heavy black bag of salvation slung over his knees, smirked and toasted the unseen heavens; he would drink away the end of the world either way.

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"Carving, or trying to give me the impression that you'll cut my throat if I cross you?" Dram didn't look up, but his head was turned just enough that his good eye could scan the room without having to move. He smiled, scars pulling the expression into a grimace. "Because you can never be sure, in places like these."

A short, harsh laugh, and he drained his drink, a damage hand coming up to order another. "Last time I drank in a shit heap like this my sister hired me a mechanic. The only thing she was interesting in fixing up was my penis, though. Apparently fitting an engine is the new roses and wine."

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Dram just laughed again and accepted his drink when it arrived. "That's a big name. Your ham-stuffer, or hum-staffer or whatever he's called must be an awfully small man. Not to mention needing a 'the'."

Despite being outnumbered, Dram was not afraid, nor was he overly wary. He had seen far more unsettling things than men in dark jackets and scowls. "Where I come from we gave up on names a long time ago. Titles too. There's not much point in them, when it's all going to burn the same."

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"There were humans on the colony at Alf who spoke that tongue, some awkward, twangy thing too. Couldn't take to it, personally." Slowly, Dram swivelled around in his chair to face the uniformed men, leaning his elbows back on the bar, his bag still slung across his knees.

"There are an awful lot more of you than me, but I don't think you boys are going to start a fight, shiny knives and big uniforms aside. You're not an attack force, lads, no matter what you might be trying to say."

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Dram wandered out of the bathroom, his heavy bag slung over his shoulder, form stooped but sturdy as he made his way towards the bar. The one good thing about the end of civilization was the booze, he had long ago decided; without law, it could be sold to anyone, anywhere, and made from practically anything.

Taking a seat, he grinned a scarred sort of grin and accepted a glass of something likely poisonous. There was nothing better than moonshine in the morning.

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"It's a funny sort of peace," Dram stated with his back to the room, bag tucked safely across his knees and partially hidden by the counter. He didn't know who had entered, and didn't really care, so long as wasn't any more of those Germanic sons-of-bitches or a whore after his balls. "That comes at the end of the universe."

He smiled around the rim of his glass. "I don't think anyone expected it, to be able to sit in a place like this, at the end of all things, drinking with all races, creeds and colours simply because there's nothing left to lose. When nobody cares, nobody fights."

Perhaps he'd had too much, but he didn't care. It wasn't as if his liver would be a life limiting factor in the current era, and he had no intention of wasting a space in the promised land on himself.

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Dram just laughed dryly and drained his glass. "We all die the same, if that's what you mean. We all make the wrong decision and it leads to the destruction of everything we value. We all fail. We all fall." He grinned. "If you can accept that, you can find peace."

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Dram laughed with no small amount of bitterness and rolled his mismatched eyes. In the bright lights of the bar, the blown, blinded pupil of his scarred blue eye was all the more obvious. "Do you think I've given up, lad?"

He sounded genuinely curious, despite the bitterness of before. "Is that what I'm doing? Lying down in a ditch to die?"

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"Whole universe's a mass grave," Dram grunted with a half-shrug. "Just because I wanted a drink doesn't mean I'm courting death. And you said yourself that you're not the sort of person to lay back and wait for the inevitable, but yet here you are, in the so called mass grave."

Dram shook his head. "So, what is it? Why are you here?"

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"That so." It wasn't a question; Dram stood and repositioned his bag over his shoulder. "Must be a bit shit for everyone, that. You enjoy it, tough. While you're doing that, I'm going to be getting drunk while the world ends."

That said, Dram left the room.

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Dram stomped back into the bar, more because he had nowhere else to go than because he particularly liked the veritable cesspit of a place. It wasn't the worst he'd been to, of course, but it was far, far from the best, and given that the best had been a watering hole with an open sewer out back, that was saying something.

However, his sister had yet to arrive, and the ship she had promised to bring with her was nowhere in sight, so he had to go somewhere and inside was preferable to outside. His heavy bag was becoming something of a burden despite its importance, but he carried it doggedly all the same as he made his way to the counter and ordered a drink.

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Dram was beginning to wonder where the bloody hell his sister had gone. He wasn't exactly bored, because one couldn't really be bored when the universe was ending, but he had to admit that the company was lacking. Typically there was at least a bartender to pass the time of night with, but apparently this was an automated place... charming.

Idly, Dram ran what was left of his index finger around the rim of his glass, gazing into the depths and wondering what he was drinking. It didn't really matter, of course, because booze was booze, but it was better than contemplating the shit that was society these days.

Then again, someone was waving an awfully nice set of handcuffs about, which he was rather tempted to free from their former owner...

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Dram sighed heavily, because really, wasn't that just a bit of all-right? There he was, sitting in a bar, and all of a sudden a portal to Hell opens up and a fucking hell-whore pops out.

Dram shook his head, and ordered another drink. He had the feeling that he was going to need it.

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Dram knew his life wasn't worth much, but also wasn't quite willing to die yet. Therefore, he did the manly thing and jumped out of the window.

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"Good idea, lass, very good idea." Dram, who had been sitting outside the bar on an upturned barrel for the last half an hour, a bottle of good scotch in his one entire hand, his feet kicked back onto an old box. "They're fighting some stupid little war in there, and it ain't for the likes of you and I."

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Dram chuckled dryly, his lips twisting his scarred face into something quite horrific. "They don't scare me." Dram winked his blind eye as he stood and offered his drink to the stranger as casually as if it were nothing, rather than all he had save the heavy bag tucked carefully beside the barrel.

"World's ending, love, and there ain't no escaping it. We all make the wrong choices, all worlds fall, but me, I like to have a drink and watch the sparks fly. I'm done fighting. It gets you nowhere."

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"We're from two different worlds, deary. The choices you made aren't the same as the choices I did, but history'll prove we both chose wrong. It ain't personal, it's just the way the universe likes to fuck us over. The curse of intelligent life, or some God's idea of a sick joke, I don't know, but there's no doing anything but living with it or booking yourself a place in paradise."

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Dram just shrugged, but he was smiling again, and if he noticed his companion hadn't touched the drink he said nothing of it, just reached out with a mangled hand and wordlessly asked for the bottle back so that he could take a pull.

"I've run a good deal, and I've lived. I'll keep on living too, right up until the universe fucks the last drop out of me. But it will kill me. Everything dies, every good thing we create shatters into dust, and every creature that lives under a sun is piss and shit and evil at heart, but you learn to see the good in it."

Apparently quite fearless, or maybe just canny after a long history of violence, Dram stooped, carefully picked up his bag, and slung it over his back. "Just because all choices end up wrong doesn't mean you have to stop making choices. You just learn to pick your battles. Like now; there's glass all over and blood on the floor, but this place, it's deserted now. Ours for the taking."

And with that, Dram stomped through the door and into the bar proper.

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"I'm good, chick." Dram slumped down onto one of the least bloody barstools, settling his bag carefully across his knees as he did so. It was worth more than he was, his little fleck of salvation, and he wouldn't be parted from it. He smiled; not long now.

"I got my bottle and that's all I need. Gotta say, though, you're the first one to talk to me for myself in quite a long while. Guess it's you not being human. Humans, we're bastards, I'll tell you that. Save for my Lass, of course. She's a good girl, my- fuck."

Dram sighed. "I swear to the fates that every time I come into one of these shitty fucking places a goddamn bloody hell-portal opens up and spews out demon-whores." He was on his feet in an instant. "And you know what? It's the same bloody one every damn time. Come on, girl, we're out of here."

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Dram, for all his fierce looks and rough talk, was apparently not above crawling out of the window when there were enemies blocking the door. He smirked from the other side, clearly waiting for Antonia to follow him. "Everything has borders, but we're not sticking around. You get out here, deary, and we'll get as far away from this place as we can."

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