Welcome to the sketch blog of that girl who draws Juathuur. Mostly just a place for me to dump the famdom stuff I make for cons and occasionally some excerpts from my original comics and stories.
I'm sure you've been asked this before, forgive me- but is this the END end of Juathuur, or will there be another story eventually, the way that Gatecrash followed One Way?
+ Anonymous

At the moment I have no plans for another comic. That could change, you never know, but lately I’m happier with the stuff I’m producing in prose, so I’m gonna stick to that for now. It’s not technically the end of the story though. Pretty much everything I write is connected is some way. Eventually I would like to tell the story that goes in-between Juathuur and my KP novel (which would involve some of Faevv’s later life) but got a few other ones to wrap up first.

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A few weeks ago we announced that BBC America would be displaying Doctor Who fanart at the BBCA booth at San Diego Comic Con. We received an outstanding number of awesome submissions from Whovian artists and featured some on BBC America’s video cube! Which looked something like this: 


(Actually it looked exactly like this) 

Here’s a slideshow of all the Doctor Who fan art that was chosen to be featured. Unfortunately the music needed to be removed from the video, but maybe if we all sing doo-wee-ooo~ at the same time we’ll all be able to hear it!

Yay, my art was on the cube :D

posted 1 day agovia©reblog

+ Apotheosis (Part 2)

[part 1]

A concussive boom jolted Tal awake. He rolled off the garden bench and ended up face down on the grass with one arm clutching at the wooden slat he’d just vacated. Had Nico accidentally set off another flare again? He groaned.

Squished under him, Tal’s other arm protected the tablet prodding his ribs. He turned and freed the slim, flexible machine. A shake jogged it out of sleep mode. The screen lit up, revealing a page of dense text. He squinted at the number in the bottom corner and frowned. He’d only managed three pages of Eriksson’s paper before nodding off. The professor’s lectures on epigenetics back at UNC had at least kept Tal awake, though perhaps the missing variable belonged to Sairi and her cinnamon bun shampoo. 

A ring of round lanterns cast the garden in a soft orange glow. Tal blinked up at the still-dark sky. Above the moss-laden stone wall, Mondieux’s twin moons outshone the dusting of stars. He hauled himself upright and stretched. Falling asleep in the garden had become a bad habit of late. Last time, he’d only woken when the bells sounded for morning prayers and Père Bertrand cornered him for forty-five minutes to lecture him on the detriments of leaving the gate open all night while Tal fought down coffee cravings.

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This is the very last page of Gatecrash, folks. Thanks for 9 great years. Check out the main site to see the rest: http://www.juathuur.com/gatecrash/gc/43-22

And yes, the dude sitting on the rock is The First in human form.

posted 3 weeks agovia©reblog

Commission for evil-elliebell-fallen-angel.

I have a new respect for all you artists who do a lot of stuff with wings.

+ Apotheosis (part 1)

Okay, summer break means it’s time for the final edit on this baby. Believe it or not, I originally intended this project to be a comic. 132,000 words later… hells no. Juathuur epic aside, I don’t actually have a death wish. Also, I suck at drawing spaceships. Anyway, this is my science fiction novel, and when my art blog goes silent its generally because I’m stuck in the nightmarish cycle of revisions. So bear with me for posting pieces once in a while. Gotta keep myself motivated.


An infection warning pulsed a shrill, staccato alarm. 

Sifar jerked in his seat, heavy boots clunking in the cramped cockpit footwell. He checked his entrance vectors, then clicked his tongue.

“Firewalls, my ass.” This is why he hated shuttles. Security holes the size of golf balls. But Miki swore she scrubbed the rental clean before he decoupled. What joker would try to backdoor him in the middle of a descent? 

Hoarse, dry air rattled through his breather. Quarantine procedures sent a frenzy of subroutines spilling across his neuronet. The cluttered mental display clogged his thoughts. Synched to the shuttle, the juggled systems dragged weights on his processors like wild kites. Fighting for focus, he visualized a spiraled square, then a waving pattern of dots, a visual mnemonic to access his net’s submenus. 

A targeted scan lit up corrupted sectors, scattered about the guidance system like mouse turds in a gutter pipe. But no fix on the code that had chewed it’s way through. Crap. A messy one. If it spread to his net, it’d take days to dig out.

He could feel distortion already; a stutter of force feedback from the telemetry. 

Couldn’t risk a distress call. If Nox got wind of his intentions, there’d be hell to pay. But he had to try something, fast.

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Playing with a character design for a new story. Guess I was in a pattern mood.

The trilogy so far… Hm, who next? So many choices.

So I made a Capaldi one.

+ Is there really a market for crappy rip-off t-shirts?

I’m not sure what’s more angering - randomly stealing my art for a t-shirt or using such a horrible, low-res copy to do so: http://www.redbubble.com/people/drunkenazteca/works/11207449-matt-smith-doctor-who. LAME. Watch out for this dude. Apparently he is doing this to lots of artists.

My original is here.