This is my OC Morgan from the book I am writing, Bloodline! This was just a quick drawing as I needed some reference material, but turned out being much larger than I thought-originally I was only drawing her head and neck, but her outfit was really interesting so I decided to include that too! Gosh, I never draw in this style! I guess it's kind of realism? Kind of?
Description extract from Chapter One: All is still apart from one figure skittering silently through rubble, searching: a girl. She is clothed simply with baggy leggings falling from a belt, a white t-shirt and a thin, dark grey jacket. Her wavy auburn hair is crafted into two short French plaits that fall just to her shoulders. Every morning her Grandma does them; it is one of her few joys. Around her neck she wears a neck scarf that is pulled up to her nose and on her head are a bulky pair of aviation goggles she found once. From her belt are hanging various nick-knacks, including a blowtorch, pocket watch and pocket clock. A brown leather satchel is draped over her back, the contests of which is both intriguing and secret. Her eager, hazel eyes are constantly flickering about, resembling those of an owl. Behind them hide countless thoughts, some considered curious, some considered dangerous; she rarely has a thought that is just plain ‘good’. The the untrained eye, she appears crazy and strange, but is far from such. She fancies herself as an inventor of sorts, constantly making ingenious creations and selling them at the market for money, not that it is of any worth here. She is small for her age at 15, but is forced to act older. Around her neck hangs a small transparent locket, the content of which is a thick, muddy green liquid; her blood. She has never met anyone with the same colour as her, and she never will. It is not unusual though, everyone’s blood is coloured. The only thing that matters is the class of the colour. The only thing that matters. She pulls on the chain, annoyed, but cannot take it off, for fear of being arrested. As she looks at it she is filled with hate, hate at the Institution, the vile Institution who care only for the colour of one’s blood, rather that the content of their person. The Institution who trick and deceive even those of the highest rank only so they themselves can be truly on top. The Institution who hoard blood.
