If Anyone Asks, I'm Not Soos

First few designs as well as some notes.

Rough draft of the design, and Llewelyn being a dork around St. Aidan.

Final design.

Title's referencing Gravity Falls ahah. So, I designed St. Aidan of Lindisfarne for the whole Pre-SOK gang. The dude's got no relation to Aidan in the movie, except by name. I stuck with the cloud idea for hair since it was a theme used for Colmcille, representing divinity and Heaven.

The Secret of Kells (c) Tomm Moore

A Visit with Llewelyn

 "Hey! Hey! Great-Uncle Llewelyn!" Rowan shouted, running across the fields to the monastery.

 Llewelyn turned around from gathering herbs in the garden, recognizing his grandnephew's voice. He gasped in delight, seeing his grandnephew head towards the short walls to climb over them. Rowan jumped down, landing on all fours like a cat. His fluffy blond hair was tangled with small sticks and leaves, and his clothes were stained with grass and dirt.

 "Oh, Rowan, how do you always get yourself in such a mess?" chuckled Llewelyn, picking out the twigs in his grandnephew's hair.

 "Because I'm an animal, that's what," joked Rowan, raising his hands as though they were paws, "I prowl through the woods, looking for prey to catch."

 Llewelyn laughed, amused at Rowan's response. He took a glance to his left, noticing his apprentice finally entering the garden from the monastery. The apprentice had a pale complexion with rather dark hair. His robes were of the dark colors of green moss and the interior of blue caves. The apprentice kept his hood up, for he was a shy one and never said much.

 "Ah! Odhrán! Glad you could join!" Llewelyn shouted out pulling the apprentice in, "Rowan, I don't believe you've met my apprentice yet. This here is Odhrán."

 "Hello! I'm Rowan! Nice to meet ya!" Rowan greeted.

 Odhrán looked around, looking for something to say back. He felt himself tense up, but managed to relax somewhat.

 "The pleasure's all mine...," Odhrán said, his voice quiet and hushed. He walked off, getting himself to gather the herbs in the garden. Rowan looked on, worried if he said something wrong.

 "Oh, don't mind him. You were just fine, Rowan," reassured Llewelyn, "He never talked much. I found him when he was a beggar not too long ago. I suppose the reason he never was open to others was some sort of event that scarred him. Whenever I asked, he would change the story every time."

 "That's terrible," Rowan sighed.

 "Aye. Though it does seem he's finding peace here," Llewelyn replied with optimism, "He has talked of sitting alone in caves. Heh, I don't think I'd be able to manage that. I'd go insane! Well, even more than I am anyways. The lad's got guts, Rowan. I hope you can be as gutsy as him one day."

 Rowan looked up to his great-uncle and beamed. He felt he was already on his way to being as gutsy and having a taste for adventure.


-So, Llewelyn and Rowan are actually related, with Llewelyn as a great-uncle. In the actual timeline of things, they never met due to Llewelyn having passed away before Rowan was born, but I came up with an AU where they do meet each other in each other's lifetime. Thought it would also be fun to have Rowan interact with a young apprenticed Odhrán :).

The Secret of Kells (c) Tomm Moore

Skithei Reference Sheet 2018

Aaaaa here it is! I've changed Skithei's design a little bit. Her design from this post is still a thing, it's just her fall and winter colors while this here is her spring and summer colors.

Anyway here's some extra info
- She's a major-league ditz ahah.
- Sweaters are her go-to, extra points if she wears an Irish sweater.
- But if the weather's warm, she wears bohemian and hippie clothing (long skirts and embroidered peasant shirts are encouraged :D).
- Her species is a falsk, an original species that bears characteristics of plants, so she bears the characteristics of moss and wildflowers.

I animated a thing!

It's kinda bad, but just a little practice thing with keyframes and inbetweens :).

Another Sketchdump! :D

A fae formed out of Llewelyn's rather trippy experiences. They're a figment of his imagination ahah.

Just a sketch of them running. 

I made a small hand reference sketch ahah. 

Just a positive vent art of my sona Skithei.

He need some milk ahah. Here's Alastar before he became the abbot of Lindisfarne, and he was the leader of a militia.

tRIpPiN hECK. Here's Llewelyn having an existential crisis in his herb garden.

The result of talking with my friend. We came to the conclusion that Llewelyn might as well be a hippie ahah.

Got a little experimental with my set of watercolor pens for designing the fae above. Again, just mostly sketches of some SOK stuff and some original art of Skithei.

The Secret of Kells (c) Tomm Moore

Why Do You Always Fight

 The cave was pitch black, it was always pitch black. The dew fell in small drops from the ceiling. It was the only noise inside. Otherwise, one would go mad from the silence. But for a select few, it was a source of solace and contemplation.

 Faolán sat perfectly still, his eyes closed. Odhrán sat right next to him, chanting a hymn. Faolán felt the quiet euphoria that came from being with his mentor, his only friend in terms of being able to discuss the many mysteries without being looked on as one with heretical beliefs. But even then, something kept eating at him. He sighed, distressed by the thought.

 "Something wrong?" Odhrán asked, opening an eye.

 "No...," Faolán replied, trying to bury his emotions so he could get back to his meditation.

 "Are you sure?" Odhrán said, having further noticed Faolán's distress.

 Faolán quickly looked around, as if someone was there eavesdropping. He opened his mouth, but no words came out as he gagged to force them out. He exhaled profusely, for he needed a moment.

 "Why do you and Abbott fight so much?" Faolán finally asked, flinching, expecting a harsh answer.

 "Excuse me?" Odhrán replied, his voice soft.

 "Every time I see you and Abbott Alastar together, you always seem to have a cold look, and he returns it. It even goes so far in which I hear you and him arguing," Faolán lamented, "Even during mass, he tries to stare you down during his sermon."

 Odhrán sighed, "I'm so sorry to have had you see that. Alastar and I have had a long history together."

 "What do you mean?" Faolán asked, tilting his head.

 "I'm sure I told you that I haven't always been here on Lindisfarne," Odhrán assured, "For all of my training and first few years being in this position, I was on an island, far away from here."

 Faolán leaned in to listen, his curiosity sparked.

 Odhrán continued, "I was told that Lindisfarne was in need for more monks, so I offered to be transferred. The journey was long and tedious, but I reached the mainland in due time. During the walk to Lindisfarne, I came across the village where Alastar came from. It had just been attacked by Northmen, for there were still small spreads of flames. There I saw Alastar on the ground, unconscious. He has been fighting off the invaders from what I can see from his wounds. I helped him recover by what nearby herbs I could find. I saw that he was grateful for my help, but as he got to know more about me, he saw where our differences lie.

 "Do you have any idea what you associate with?!" Alastar yelled.

 "I only associate myself with what my calling is, Alastar," Odhrán replied calmly.

 "Your 'calling' is to be an enemy of God! That's what it is. Meddling in dark forces," Alastar snapped back, "I have no time to associate myself with heathens."

 "If what you say belongs to heathens, I would have no problem calling myself one," Odhrán said.

 "The punishment for heresy is death!" Alastar roared, then yelped, having pulled at his injuries.

 "Kill me, then. Draw your sword in the corner there, and strike me through the heart," Odhrán replied, closing his eyes, ready for a cold blade to slash him.

 Alastar picked up his sword and raised it, ready to make the fatal blow. He tried to make the strike, but all his hand could do was tremble. Odhrán muttered a prayer, ensuring that he would make his way to the afterlife safely. Alastar gritted his teeth and threw the sword to the ground.

 "How could I kill you? You saved my life that day. I still owe you a great debt," Alastar lamented.

 Odhrán opened his eyes in surprise. He knew surely he was going to die. Yet he didn't. He didn't know what to say.

 The old monk saw Faolán wrapping his arm around him, trying to comfort him in reliving his memories. He smiled slightly.

 "I assure you, I'm fine, Faolán," Odhrán said, his voice like a songbird's. He returned the hug to Faolán, almost falling asleep to the sounds of drops falling in the cave.

-Tried my hand at writing for a bit. Something different to try out, as well as developing my characters at the same time :).

The Secret of Kells (c) Tomm Moore

Some WIPs and more sketches

Started working on a tarot deck, so here's Brendan as the Fool.

Aidan seems to be happy with his bottle of ink :). Here he is as the Magician.

Here's a new guy, Llewelyn. He took in Odhrán from poverty. He's also a bit of a nutter ahah.

"Boy, I've been nuts all of the time!" Messy hair is always so fun to draw :D.

Just a collection of WIPs for a huge fan art project, as well as some sketches from my sketchbook.

The Secret of Kells (c) Tomm Moore