Nessa - Blog Posts

Request dump 4, 5, and 6!

Pokemon: Twilight Wings || Nessa Episode 4

Sword and shield height chart i made based on this post

This one's not mine

Happy GOmaversary y’all

(I’m not late - i didn’t watch the Good Omens mini-series until after the Stanley Cup celebrations where over, so my 1year annie for the TV show isn’t until June 16th XD )

I still need a frame for the middle piece, but until then, here y’all go

This was a group of pieces I did on 32 count with the Good Omens Stitch Along discord during the month of May. All three patterns where created by the very talented @peppervl

Very odd choice in friendship text this generation.

Very odd choice in friendship text this generation.

nessa [2019.11.26]

"During the conversation, it's important to be on the same level with the child. When your eyes are in line with your child's, they feel important and safe."

✅️

❌️

Nessa!

Darling.

The child

Nessa darling sweetheart I’d sell my soul to give you a happy childhood you are my child now.

quick question:

I’ve realized post posting this post that there’s no option for both,,,, erm. pick your default. also comment/tags if you’re other.

I have written a quick little thing for the City Elf Appreciation week! Astala is 13 and making dumb decisions, lol XD XD XD

"Come on, Astala!" Tehriel whispered. "You said you would do it!"

Astala Tabris peered over the edge of the roof the five of them were currently huddled on, straight into the vhenadahl's thick canopy. Her da had once told her that, because the roots of the vhenadahl were where the ashes of the dead were scattered, the vhenadahl was the collective soul of the Alienage. It was a huge tree; it held the ashes of countless people. Suddenly, even though she was one of the tallest girls in the Alienage, Astala felt very small, and not at all like she wanted to actually jump from this rooftop onto the vhenadahl. The feeling immediately clashed against the presence of Nessa, Tehriel, Doher and Elva, who crouched around her, and in front of whom she couldn't just back down. She'd been the one bragging!

"Tabris," Doher said, mocking concern in his voice, "don't tell me you are getting cold feet."

"I am not," Astala hissed back with all the decisiveness acquired over her thirteen years of life. "It just doesn't seem right, is all."

"You are getting cold feet," Elva said and followed the words with a low whistle.

Astala ground her teeth. Elva was good at making fun of you, she had to give her that.

"I am not," she insisted. "My auntie and uncle are buried down there, okay?"

"And?" Elva shrugged. "So is my da."

Astala tugged her sleeves over her hands. "What if I break one of the branches?"

"In the place where my ma grew up in they chopped it down," Nessa said. "Because the winter was so cold."

"See?" Tehriel gave her a nudge. "It will be fine! It's not like you're stepping on the ashes or anything."

"The coast is clear right now," Nessa added, stretching her head out as far as she could over the edge of the rooftop.

"It's now or never, Tabris," Doher declared.

And that was an ultimatum.

Astala pushed herself up into a crouch and scooted a few steps backwards. Then a few more. The old rooftiles under her feet groaned quietly. It was quite a way down—several stories. But all of them had jumped over narrow alleyways so often, this shouldn't be different at all.

Right?

Auntie and uncle might be mad.

But her friends were waiting, staring, eyes wide open in excitement, anticipation... and fear. Astala felt like her skin was turning to stone, her nerves to steel, like the bright, bright blades of her mother. She could do what nobody could. She could do what her friends were too afraid to do.

"Maybe-" Nessa began.

Astala moved into position.

Her muscles tightened when she launched herself into a run on the old, decrepit roof, avoiding the darker tiles and gathering momentum for her jump. The vhenadahl's leaves shivered in the wind. Her foot hit the tiles and she soared; the wind ran through her hair, pulled at her clothes. She sailed through the air like a seagull, feeling the rush through her body, sailing past the branches of the old tree that almost opened up as if to receive her.

A shout, some adult, and Astala crashed against the thick tree trunk, hands scrabbling to find purchase. One hand found a thick branch and held on, the bark bit into her skin and the impact had made her cough. The sunlight cast dizzying shadows through the leaves. Beetles flew up into the air around her, alarmed. Her friends cheered.

"What in the Maker's name are you kids doing???"

Her hand slipped. Astala fell. With a scream, she tried to find another hold as the bark ripped against her clothes and skin. A branch smacked into her stomach, she fell onto another with her arm, there was a loud crash and then she landed on the floor. A thick cloud of ash and dirt enveloped her. Astala coughed.

"Sorry," she gasped.

Then the pain in her side, in her head, and especially in her arm hit her and she started to cry.

She later figured that it served her right for disrespecting the vhenadahl and everyone buried underneath it like this.

@cityelfweek my contribution to day 1: vhenadahl ^^