Jesse Fornik, a 22-year-old male black rat demi-human, short and slender with narrow shoulders, pale skin, prominent cheekbones, reddish-brown eyes, and messy black hair with faded burgundy underlayers. His fringe has been hastily pinned away from his eyes with two mismatched black hair clips. Heavy eyeliner frames his eyes, and a faint smudge of black eyeshadow remains beneath one lower eyelid. Exactly two rounded black rat ears with dusky-pink inner surfaces; they are his only ears, with no human ears hidden beneath his hair. Long, slender, hairless charcoal-black rat tail. Entirely human facial anatomy, silver vertical labret piercing, several silver rings, and chipped black nail polish.
He’s wearing a fitted black button-up shirt with a narrow collar, tucked into tailored charcoal trousers that sit high on his waist. The shirt is close-fitting without looking like formalwear, its sleeves rolled unevenly to his elbows. A narrow black tie hangs loosely around his neck, decorated with a tiny silver tie clip shaped like a safety pin. His black belt has a worn silver buckle, and his chunky platform boots are polished just enough to look intentional. Several thin silver necklaces sit above his collar. A battered black leather jacket hangs over one arm, covered in discreet band pins.
Jesse stands in the narrow entryway of a friend’s apartment before a small birthday dinner. A crooked mirror hangs above a pile of shoes, and a coat rack is overloaded with jackets. Someone has left a grocery bag on the floor beside a potted plant that is visibly dying. Warm light spills from the living room, where a small table is crowded with takeout containers, cheap flowers, mismatched plates, and a cake with uneven frosting.
He looks toward the viewer with a resentful, suspicious expression, as if dressing nicely was a personal insult. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, wrinkling the fitted shirt. One rat ear is angled toward the people laughing in the next room; the other leans slightly backward. His tail curves behind his ankles. His hair clips are holding his fringe out of his face with limited success, and one rebellious strand has already fallen loose.
The outfit is unexpectedly flattering, which appears to be making him angrier. His cheeks have a faint flush, and he refuses to acknowledge that anyone might have complimented him.
Painterly semi-realistic illustration, expressive oil-paint brushwork, chalk-textured shadows, warm indoor lighting, detailed fitted clothing and silver accessories, rich charcoal and muted wine-red palette, natural anatomy, ordinary domestic surroundings, emotionally expressive face, beautiful but unpolished character design, candid composition.
