The second of four updated character portraits I had planned to get done before the end of December. I say "HAD planned" because it turns out the busiest month of the year wasn't the best time to commit to the four most complex drawings I've ever done. Haha. I should be able to complete one more this month and the last in the first couple of weeks in January.

This is Mackie, and I've drawn him in a much more confined environment than Gemini (maybe TOO confined to properly use that pool table, now that I look at it, but anyway). I am toying with the idea of adding a steampunk element to terrestrial Earthfolk culture (pre-spaceflight). To the end I have put some pipes on the wall. They turned out better than expected, if not good.

I have drawn Mackie the LEAST of any of the characters that I HAVE drawn, but that is about to change in a big way for those of you who follow my webcomic "Stuck in Dev(Hell)opment".

As before, the story below isn't necessarily canonical, just a bit of flavour for you to get to know the character. I know it's long...I won't be upset if you don't read it. Haha.
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"That's a bit of bad luck." The gopher laughed as he watched the white cue ball fall with a hollow thwop into the corner pocket. A smattering of chuckles rang out from the nearby tables, folks who had been watching the game but who now turned away with a wry shake of the head. The pretty bartender (well, she was pretty for a rat) offered him a pitying glance.

Mackie cleared his throat awkwardly and straightened up from his shooting position, refusing to make eye contact with his opponent. "Well, that wasn't supposed to happen." He said, smoothing back his ears once again, although they already lay flat against his skull.

"I'm sure it wasn't." Said the gopher, grinning at the fox. "Just like you sinking my 10 and 12 wasn't supposed to happen, right? And how about when you nearly tore the cloth jumping the cueball off the table? Was that part of the plan?"

"Alright, alright, so I had an off game." Mackie said, flushing slightly at the mockery, "I get it, you win. You want a certificate or something?"

"I'll settle for my fifty Spades." Said the gopher, tapping the top of the pool table expectantly. "You do have the fifty Spades, don't you?" He added when Mackie grimaced.

"Yeah, I have em'. Thing is, they weren't really mine to gamble away." Said the fox with a nervous laugh.

"I've nothing to do with any of that. A deal's a deal." The gopher tapped the table again, a little harder this time.

"Yeah, I guess a deal is a deal." Mackie sighed. He rummaged in his pockets and brought out a fistful of cards, a few more spilled out onto the ground. The gopher's eyes dilated slightly at the sight of them. There were at least two hundred Spades among them, and twice as many Clubs, and had he even caught a glimpse of a face card in there? Only a Jack of Clubs, but still...

(Note: Human playing cards were discovered in all corners of the planet as the Earthfolk began to develop into the literally upstanding race that they are today. Due to their prominence in presumed gambling dens, these strange cards were assumed by Earth's new inhabitants to be Human currency, and so were adopted for the same use by the Earthfolk. The human figures still printed upon the cards today are commonly used as holy symbols by congregants of the Sapiens Church, a religious order dedicated to the worship of the human race as deities.)

"Criminy son, you need to get a wallet for all that." The gopher said, slightly in awe. "'specially seeing as you're holding onto if for someone."

The fox was busy scrambling together all of the cards that had fallen and didn't answer. When he was done he glanced around nervously before counting out fifty Spades. With shaking hands, he placed two tens, two nines, two fives, and a two on the polished (if slightly beer-stained) edge of the pool table.

The gopher didn't pick them up right away. His mind was busy calculating.

"Go ahead," said Mackie when he didn't move, "you won, fair and square."

"If...you...really need this money as bad as you say," said the gopher slowly, "how about one more game? I got one hundred a twenty Spades, plus ten Diamonds. Sounds to me like you're no worse off a hundred and twenty short than just that fifty. And who knows? You might get lucky."

"You mean it? You'll give me a chance?" Said Mackie, ears perking up.

In response, the gopher rummaged in his pockets and fished out a wallet, he emptied it of cards until the promised amount sat next to the fifty Spades on the pool table. Mackie matched it with shaking hands while the gopher racked the pool balls back onto the table.

"I'll even let you break." The gopher said with a smile. He was already planning how to spend the fox's Spades, and that smile showed it.

"No, you go ahead." Said Mackie, drawing a slightly squashed pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. "I'm gonna calm my nerves a bit if you don't mind."

"Be my guest." The gopher chuckled.

Mackie smirked, lighting his cigarette with much steadier paws as the gopher took his shot. It was a good break, and the colourful spheres rolled to all corners of the table with a resounding CRACK!

"Okay then, let's see you earn that money back." The gopher said, satisfied. He stepped back from the table and rested his cue on the ground.

Mackie examined the table for a long time, his brain doing something rather remarkable behind gleaming, golden eyes. Then he puffed a smoke ring into the air without really knowing he was doing it, stepped up to the table, and, while the gopher watched with growing horror, cleaned the solid balls off the table, one after the other. He ended, as was tradition, with the black eight-ball, which he placed in the farthest corner just for the hell of it.

"Cheers, pal." Said the fox to the gopher, who's jaw was working angrily as he watched Mackie pocket his one hundred and twenty Spades (and ten diamonds). "Can I get you a beer or somethin'? Part ways as pals?"

Mackie dowsed his cigarette and began making his way across to the bar, knowing the gopher wouldn't be joining him. He was pleased to see that the pretty (for a rat) bartender was looking at him in a way that made it clear she had been watching his second game as well. Excellent. As he sat on the only unoccupied barstool he tipped her a wink and smoothed his ears back once more, although they really couldn't sit any flatter against his skull.