Life sucks - Seik in the slums

Seik Jelester, my OC from Revenge of Rakazel.

OMG OMG, what's that! A picture with background!
And I think the perspective is a bit crappy again, but whatever...I wanted to draw this scene for a long time! And now here it is.

Seik vegetating in his dirty house in the slums. It's all full of mice-shit and other dirt. This life is really hard for the noble Seik who ever had a huge mansion with servants and housemaids. So he's all alone in the slums and don't know what to do.

Drinking
Smoking
Trying to take his life - without success because he is a coward

It's not perfect, a quite rough painting, but I love to show Seik in this weak way.

And yay, I tried to translate a short scene from chapter 2 of Revenge of Rakazel. I hope you can read it.

"The best will. The best will he couldn’t remember which argument he had changed his mind at the end but still go to the hard jostle around, pushed around, and besieged by pushy vendors and entertainers. He had firmly resolved to spend the day at home with the best company he could think of, namely itself, now Seik stood with unmade hair and a cigarette between his lips amid the celebrating crowd, wondering when he ever felt something like fun visiting a festival. Sometime after he had pushed the fresh legacy of his small, furry roommate from the window sill this morning and looked out, perhaps quite unexpectedly, a touch of nostalgia came over him, he was not aware of much. Or maybe the empty bottles piled up in his room, it had given the correct scale, and the urgent desire not to spend the day on dry land, while other people left out of his dwelling far away in the streets celebrating, forget their worries and enjoyed the feast. Even the poorest, legless cripples enjoyed in the oh-so-cordial get-together today. For one day everyone was in a good mood. For one day was the Fuorium a place of joy. Unfortunately, that spark was still not on Seik. He was not happy, and certainly not in a festive mood. How could it be that he felt not a bit of the euphoric ecstasy? There came no magic over him suddenly, grabbing his grim mouth up fast and he felt no desire to sing and dance. Instead, he pulled a face like three rainy days, could bring children automatically becomes whining. He himself also felt like crying. It was the first Mafuu festival, which he celebrated in the Fuorium, or rather he was forced to spend here. The fact was just as pathetic as his appearance. Actually, he was a tall man with narrow shoulders and dark almond eyes, who could certainly also look attractive, but he had left behind the mirror a few weeks ago because he had to endure the sight no longer there. He was terribly emaciated, his skin pale and unhealthy and became sunken cheeks. Among his eyes were deep, dark circles and the black, unkempt hair glistened with fat. The people in the Fuorium took little more notice of his shabby shape.

A few months ago had been looking different, but that time he still was a proud man, and not that image of the Grim Reaper. He had felt disgraced himself to the bone when they realized it, and had laughed at him shouting vituperations. Afterwards he needed to remove the lazy fruit and raw eggs to get back from face and clothing each time. Seik still didn’t want to see, but he had grown over time into an inconspicuous shadow that had adapted to life in the Fuorium. No one was more interested in him, but he was usually overlooked. He had become a miserable Fuorier, wearing a worn, dark brown coat, which had its best days long behind him, and lived in an abandoned dwelling, which he called the rat hole. It was a seedy, dilapidated bar around which no one cared, and now it was so run down that no man more interested in them anyway. He did not have enough money to afford a decent apartment, so he instead used this as a makeshift shelter accommodation. Roof and windows were leaking, and constantly exposed to the elements, accordingly, it looked like inside and smelled musty and damp as it is. On top of that, it constantly through those pesky mice and rats smelled feces. The cursed creatures always managed to escape from the traps, Seik arrayed for them. At the end he had given up and accepted them, trample in mice droppings. As for the roof, he had tried the repair it, but his very poor efforts had called nerves and worn hands, he broke with a leg through the rotten wood and had an even bigger hole than before, torn into the ceiling. After that, he deemed it no longer makes sense to start a new trial. If only the damn mice were not so good swimmers, they would drown, at least, if the house was under water again."