#1 Du Jour
Deep in the Mississippi River Delta, there be strife – rival clans warring for the favor of all the spirits of animal, vegetable and mineral. Ole’ duJour, he the last of his clan – that Roadkill Motorcycle club, every one cut low by Mama Houdoo’s boys and the evils in her thrall. Now duJour ride alone, just him and his curse. Po’ bastard can’t eat nothing but carrion, and then the spirit of the dead thing fill him up and take over. He put a buzzard in his belly, he grow wings. He pick over a possum, he see in the dark and hang from a tree. Seen it my own self. But duJour don’t care none ‘bout curses. He use’em to satisfy the vengeance that occupy his mind. Vengeance for the boys of the Roadkill MC. For the shade of his ole lady. And for his very own lost soul.
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Cool stuff, right there. Really nice visual design, and I love that narration style. Nice work.
Very impressive. A lot of attention to detail went into this guy’s appearance, that’s for sure, and the exposition is really engaging. I’m left wanting to read more about this fellow, and that’s a sign of a job well done.
Always nice to see another anthro, too!
Nice back story. That’s a horrible curse! If he ran a person down, would they be considered roadkill?
Thanks for the nice remarks, guys! And Todd…the answer is, “Yes.” People can be carrion, too!
This is one where I find myself thinking, “I wish I’d thought of that!” Really good art and story with style!
I love it! You really get a sense of the personality of him! Great writing! (and nice arm ink)