Harrier "Harry" Du Bois

Like a fly to the ointment, your conscience sticks to it. The limbed and headed machine of pain and undignified suffering is firing up again. It wants to walk the desert. Hurting. Longing. Dancing to disco music.

The song of death is sweet and endless...

This is just a word-dream now. Jumbled up garbage. The pictures are gone, the bed rises to meet you. A thin sleep-like state. More glass than velvet, grinding in your head.

( Character Sheet Skill Set )