Skull is a loud-mouthed, annoying, lackey civilian. A coward and a brat. The greatest stuntmen, clad in exaggerated makeup and a purple motorcycle suit, baring his arrogant smirk. The weakest amongst them all. Yet still, a centrepiece connected to their souls. They knew their lackey, their cloud, better than anyone else. So then... who was this? This green-eyed, black-haired boy staring at them alertedly, a look full of hauntings. The dark maturity oozing off of his gaze. Standing there in a tense stance, shirtless (an odd pouch hanging from his neck), injured (blood seeping through the carelessly wrapped gauze). A sword in his hands pointing straight towards them. ---- Harry-Is-Skull Fanfic ---- *I dont own any media posted in the story*