nalathehuman-blog

[nalathehuman-blog]

lesterwhittonpw:

He watched her climb down with a detached disdain written on his face, not altering his expression in the least for the entirety of the time Nala was descending the tree as if it were a jungle gym. “Congratulations,” he said, as she reached the ground, and he couldn’t help but feel just a hint of amusement as her bubbly expression wavered under his own gaze.

He gestured with a tip of his chin toward her hand. “You appear to be bleeding,” he said, lightly as though he were making an idle comment about the weather. “Do take care not to let that go unchecked. An infection could lead to the loss of a limb.”

nalathehuman:

“Loss of a LIMB?!” Nala nearly stumbled backwards from the shocking thought of having to learn to play the piano with one hand. You can’t do anything on a piano with one hand. You can’t even play basic hand exercises with one hand. I mean, she could learn to play the triangle...depending on how long she could dangle the instrument between her teeth before it became too heavy. ‘Ah who am I kidding, triangles are for wimps.’ She scanned the man’s face for a hint of amusement, a snicker, anything that would tell her his claims were fraudulent. Her stomach did a flip-flop when she found nothing but the same impassive expression that was actually starting to become quite irritating. “Oh God, I need to find a doctor...do you know anything else about those leaves up there? Besides the fact that they rip into you like a diamond encrusted knife?”

[nalathehuman-blog]

harper-stadelman

Harper was more than happy with Nala’s answer. Most teens invested in fictional novels over non-fiction, which Harper somewhat understood, so finding a classmate that didn’t find the idea of learning outside of class blasphemous was great.

“Same, though I am a sucker for a well-written mystery. In terms of instruments, well let’s just say my teachers never forced me into orchestra again.”

Harper smiled remember the last time she was given a violin. It was in 3rd grade when Mrs. Harris somehow conjured up the conclusion that the reason for Harper’s odd hobbies was due to a lack of creative outlet. So, she had enrolled Harper in the school orchestra and gave her a second hand violin. Within the first hour of practice, Harper managed shoot her strings across the room to bounce of the conductor’s head, fold her sheet music into a collection of origami frogs, and place bugs in her stand partner’s violin. The session concluded with Harper breaking the violin in a vain attempt to use it like a bow and arrow. Mrs. Harris had never bothered Harper about joining the orchestra again.

nalathehuman

Nala threw her head back laughing as she imagined Harper sitting in a classroom miserably scratching out “Four Seasons” across the strings of a violin. “Well how about this; if you let me teach you music, I’ll let you choose your instrument and I’ll be super cool and easy-going.”

Nala was growing increasingly fond of this girl. She was unique, nonconforming, and unexpectedly confident in her unusual personality and her concrete beliefs. There was more to Harper than she initially thought.

[nalathehuman-blog]

harper-stadelman:

Harper’s interest in her classmate only grew as the conversation carried on. Harper had been looking for a partner to help her out with her investigation of the town’s magical sites. Most of her fellow classmates dismissed her interest as childish or weird, but this social butterfly seemed a bit quirkier when compared to the rest of the school’s population. Before Harper could make a decision though, she would have to find out more about this potential candidate.

“You read alot? What’s your favorite genre or subject?”

nalathehuman:

"Mostly informational stuff." She chuckled, slightly embarrassed, and cast her eyes down from her converser towards the miscellaneous contents of a garbage can situated by her knee. "The fact that I read a little bit of everything makes me sound pretty lame. I've read biographies, car mechanics, plant biology, history, famous speeches of the 20th century....I love to learn, what can I say? That's why I play, like, 5,000 different instruments."

[nalathehuman-blog]

harper-stadelman:

“Jazz sounds fun, though I usually listen to rock’n’ roll or alternative. I’m just excited since it has been forever since I last sang with someone.”

Nala rolled her eyes. "UGH, I know the feeling. I've been dying to sing with someone for the past few months. I usually play some of my instruments for the school band, minus the vocals. It sucks to be honest." 

[nalathehuman-blog]

lesterwhittonpw:

“Yes, I am the trolley driver,” Lester answered her dully, still watching, neck craned upward, the girl at the top of the tree. He managed to resist the powerful urge to roll his eyes as a bird swooped toward her and she threw what he could only describe as a tantrum. Of course there was a goddamn bird or two up there. What did she expect to encounter in the treetops, goldfish? Honestly, it was hardly worth his time to stick around, but he still felt a nagging obligation to at least stick around to ensure the girl didn’t destroy her spine trying to get down.

“I noticed you’ve not yet begun coming down,” he called upward, beginning to stroll the circumference of the tree’s wide trunk. “A poor decision, if I do say so myself. You picked a rather reckless activity for your afternoon. Now, I’d advise you to start making your way down now, or it’s my citizen’s duty to contact the fire department, to take a break from saving lives and halting flames in order to carry you down from a tree as if you were a wayward cat.”

Nala wasn’t sure whether to take the man’s fire department comment as an insult or a joke. As was natural to her personality, she chose the latter. “Your sense of humor is most amusing, Mr. Trolley-man,” Nala declared, dramatically placing a hand over her heart. “But yeah you’re probably right, I should make my way down from this daunting little perch I’ve gotten myself stuck in.” She scratched her head contemplatively. “Ahh, but how to begin...” Nala clung with both arms to the branch she was sitting on, spreading her fingers wide in order to grasp as much of the mottled bough as she could. She took extra caution not to accidentally scrape any exposed skin against another flesh-cutting leaf. She tentatively lowered her left leg until her foot grazed the branch directly below. ‘Ok that’s a good start’ she thought. Nala continued at the same gradual pace, limb by limb. She nearly sliced her wrist on a leaf midway through the descent and incoherently muttered to herself what sounded like a string of curses. A couple minutes later she hopped gracefully to the ground and stuck her arms straight in the air as gymnast would upon completion of a routine. “Ta-da! A perfect landing, if I do say so myself.” She noticed the same dull look of disinterest on Mr. Trolley-man’s face that he’d maintained since the beginning of their conversation. ‘Jesus, how do people stay so serious? And for that long??’ She grew unsettled, and her smile faltered under his piercing gaze of disapproval.

[nalathehuman-blog]

“I can see how you’d think that.” Nala replied admittedly. “My music usually keeps me running like a well oiled machine.” By pure coincidence, her IPod had switched to the next song on her playlist, this one jivier than the previous, and Nala began patting the side of her leg and nodding her head in time to the fast-paced beat.

“It’s not a stunt sir. It’s just my daily morning dose of energy.” Nala never really understood why she had a rush of adrenaline every single morning. It was just….natural. “I assume mornings aren’t your favorite time of day, am I right? Morning’s tough, I see my parents before they’ve had their Folgers coffee and I know.” She shrugged as if mankind’s doomed relationship with the earliest portion of the day was inevitable.

[nalathehuman-blog]

“It’s not a stunt sir. It’s just my daily morning dose of energy.” Nala never really understood why she had a rush of adrenaline every single morning. It was just....natural. “I assume mornings aren’t your favorite time of day, am I right? Morning’s tough, I see my parents before they’ve had their Folgers coffee and I know.” She shrugged as if mankind’s doomed relationship with the earliest portion of the day was inevitable.

Lester simply grunted in response as he cranked the trolley door 9shut and began to drive. How anyone could be that perky in the morning was beyond him. “You know,” he said, “Most people simply walk up the stairs, rather than attempting a stunt.”

[nalathehuman-blog]

Nala’s dark thicket of hair bounced characteristically as her head perked up at the sound of a familiar voice. “Hey, don’t I know y-” She would have finished her sentence had not a massive brown-grey speckled bird flown impudently past her face. “BIRD! Bird bird bird bird that’s a bird...” Nala promptly finished muttering the word “bird” to herself and took a deep breath to regain her composure. She squinted past the intertwining branches thickened further with leaves as far as she could without the risk of slipping from her perch, and gaped. The stranger instantly brought back memories of her morning rides on the town trolley. “You’re the trolley driver! I knew I recognized you from somewhere!” Her eyes twinkled with recognition. “Nice day for a walk, isn’t it? Just don’t go climbing any trees - their leaves are vicious. Trust me.” Nala huffed exasperatedly, blowing away a few locks of curls from the side of her face. 

“Hang on, did you say these branches can’t hold a lot of weight?” Panic daunted itself upon her once again. “Sweet baby Jesus, I’m going to die up here.” Nala reached out with trembling arms to test the strength various branches, putting as much pressure on each branch as she could until the branch gave in to her pushing. Mr. Trolley-man was right - these branches weren’t ideal for human tree-climbing. Squirrels, perhaps. Humans was a stretch. But if this was the case, then how did Nala make it all the way up there without realizing that perhaps, oh, I don’t know, this tree was half dead? She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, and concluded that her vigorous exercise routine had placed her mind in a state of frenzy and temporary invulnerability.

Lester stopped mid-step, foot still a few inches off the ground, and listened. Yes, he had definitely heard someone speak. Naturally. Heaven forbid he get to go on a peaceful walk alone. Curse whatever ranger had built the foot trails that invited traffic into the otherwise untouched woods. Sure, they made his own walks easier, but at the cost of privacy.

He took a step back and looked up into the tree from whence he was sure the voice had come, and could make out the figure of a person, though at their height and partially obscured as they were by the canopy of trees, it was quite difficult to make out any details.

Lovely. Someone was actually climbing the trees in the woods of Phantom’s Wharf. Clearly this town was simply full to bursting with excellent decision makers.

He cleared his throat, in a voice that was not a shout, but still carried easily even up to the height of the tree-climber. “You must be careful climbing up that high, friend,” he said dryly. “Some of those branches are quite dead, can’t hold much weight. It would be such a shame for a bough to snap, and you to fall and break your neck.”

[nalathehuman-blog]

Nala laughed heartily. “My apologies sir. Don’t worry, I’m not going to be wasting anybody’s time. I’m in as much of a hurry as the next guy. I need to get to school, pronto!” And with that, Nala grabbed the railing and swung herself to the top of the trolley stairs.

“If you are intending to ride the trolley, then climb aboard. If not, then why, precisely, are you wasting my time?”

[nalathehuman-blog]

Nala strolled the quaint backwoods located several yards behind her house, mindlessly humming along to the tune produced by Miles Davis’ incredulous trumpeting. If it weren’t for the heap of tangled headphones and IPod Nala hoarded in her backpack at all times, she wouldn’t know how she would ever get any exercise. Fitness was a constant burden, but a necessary one at that. She pumped her arms as she jogged, green and yellow blurs flashing by the sides of her face, her feet thumping rhythmically against the leaf-littered floor until, 20 minutes later, sizable beads of sweat formed on her arms and legs. She swiped the back of her hand across her forehead and bent forward, placing both palms on her knees and panting until the blood cleared from her head and she had blinked the black spots away from her vision. “Phew,” Nala sighed, “jogging feels a hell of a lot better when it’s over.” Despite being tired out, Nala was a staunch supporter of the daily inclusion of at least 30 minutes of physical activity. She spotted what she determined was a decent climbing tree, and rolled up the sleeves of her sweater, cracked her neck both sides of her neck, and shook out her arms, bouncing lightly from one leg to the other. “Alright, let’s go tree.”

Nala’s right foot searched for the first sturdy limb closest to the ground and hoisted her weight upwards with a grunt. She continued with surprising efficiency, carrying her balance from one leg to the other, until she was ten or fifteen feet above ground. As Nala turned to sit upon the branch she had just reached, she felt a searing pain slash across her left palm. “Ah, damn!” She flipped her palm upwards just in time to watch a violent red seep into the newly formed pale gash that started below her pinky finger and ended abruptly two inches from her thumb. “Shit.” She swung her backpack around to her lap and clenched it between her knees, scrambling blindly through its interior with her better hand for first aid supplies. Her fingers recognized the spongey feel of gauze, and she quickly pulled out the roll and wrapped it around her left hand. “What on earth could’ve gashed me like that....” And suddenly it hit her. One of the freshmen girls at school had been smacking her gum while rattling on about some old legend that had been passed around for what, like, decades now? Something about a special tree with really sharp leaves...”Oh right, the Suerton tree! That’s it.” Without thinking, she must have brushed her left palm against one of the leave’s flesh-cutting ridges. Not wanting to abandon any chances of receiving the good-luck that was supposed to accompany ownership of the leaf that gave the cut, Nala cautiously pocketed the blade using a sweatshirt sleeve-covered hand. As soon as the leaf was secured inside the makeshift vessel also known as Nala’s sweatpants pocket, panic began to trickle into the pit of her stomach; if Nala reached the top of the tree with one injury, could she reach the bottom without acquiring additional cuts? “Ah...damn.”  She was stuck.

[nalathehuman-blog]

“Ha! Do I sing.” Nala combed her fingers through her thick, frazzled hair thoughtfully. Then she snapped her fingers and pointed to Alyssa. “Do me a favor and picture the 50′s.” Her eyes told the story all on their own; “There’s a party going on upstairs and old Mr. what’s-his-face is banging on the ceiling with a broomstick, yelling at those promiscuous rascals to quiet that ruckus. Except in this case, my singing is the ruckus and my parents are the oldies.” She promptly jolted back to reality. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m a fabulous singer. It’s just that I sing way too much back at my place. My parents only have to tell me once and I’ll stop. Poor old things.”

Alyssa smiled at the idea of playing with the other girl. It’d been a while since she’d played live music with other people, the last time she’d done karaoke being on her birthday. “Right, sorry, I don’t think we have. I’m Alyssa, I work at the music store in town,” she replied with a smile. “Do you sing too?”

[nalathehuman-blog]

harper-stadelman:

“Not necessarily a waste of time, just most people don’t exactly see eye to eye with me. Let’s just say I have some pretty awesome hobbies that most people don’t particularly enjoy, or condone,” Harper said with a laugh. Dissecting animals, searching for obscure plants, and practicing necromancy, weren’t exactly high on most teenagers list of fun weekend activities, but Harper had no plans to change her routine any time soon just to accommodate her peers. 

Nala gazed admirably at Harper. “We need more people like that, you know? People who are just confident in their own skin and who don’t care what others have to say about it. I like to think I’m pretty confident myself, although playing music and studying books aren’t typically hobbies people would condone.”

[nalathehuman-blog]

“Yessssss, totally!! What genre of music do you like to sing to? I want to be able to accommodate proficiently,” said Nala, as she raised her chin and articulated the latter words. “Personally I prefer jazz. I’ve always grown up with it.”

“Okay, but no romantic comedies please. And if you play, I wouldn’t mind singing.”

[nalathehuman-blog]

Nala feigned shock at the inquiry and held a hand to her forehead. “Well, if you must know.” Then she began to laugh, dropping her shoulders and tossing a strand of hair behind her face. “Nah, it’s just casual reading out of my own strange interest. I’m not stupid - I know of the legends and the magic and whatnot behind this place. I want to know more about that stuff. What it is and where it came from and all that. So I picked up these doozies and I’m going to read each and every one of em, cover to cover.”

Elisha put his hands up innocently. “Okay, okay, I was only asking. You say you can carry them no problem, I’m not going to put up a fight.” He finished scanning the books, putting them into a bag and waiting for the ancient computer to cough out a receipt. “So, could I ask what’s got you so interested in this topic in the first place?”

[nalathehuman-blog]

 lyssa-cassels:

“You had me at free food,” she smiled, brushing her hair back. “And maybe we could have a jam sesh. I’m not too good at the piano but I took guitar lessons in high school.”

“Ooooh, yes please! We’ve been lacking in good guitarists, at least from what I’ve observed. I would love to play a session with you!” Nala’s stomach bloomed with butterflies as she mentally listed several duets for piano and acoustic guitar. Playing duets with just about anybody that was good at playing music made Nala’s spirits soar with anticipation. “Oh hang on, I didn’t quite catch your name - have we met before?”

[nalathehuman-blog]

“That’s ok girl, I’ve got the whole rundown right up here.” She pointed to her head and clicked her tongue. “And maybe a small, detailed plan too...but we’ll get to that later.” Nala strained with difficulty to shrug off her exuding excitement over the freedom and flexibility allotted to her by an open-ended project. She could steer the research in any direction she - er, they - wished. “Basically, we have to go around interviewing at least seven citizens of Phantom’s Wharf on any topic we want. In the end, our research has to relate somehow to town pride. I think that the two of us would make the team to beat! So whaddya say, be my partner?” Nalla raised her eyebrows and clasped her hands together, pleading internally that Sage would succumb to her appeals.

Sage stared at Nala as she shouted at her. To be perfectly honest, she hadn’t been paying much attention until the bustle of her classmates had driven her to her feet. “Um… Sure!” she chirped, wiping the stunned look off her face. She heard the disappointed murmurings of her peers as they began to settle into their pairs. “Nala? What exactly are we supposed to be doing?” she bit her lip. “I… I wasn’t really paying attention.”

[nalathehuman-blog]

Nala shifted her weight to one leg and placed her hand on her hip. “Oh what, seriously? I could carry three times the amount you’re holding. Have you ever carried a bass before?” A year ago, Nala’s father’s car just so happened to break down the day of her jazz band performance. She winced as she remembered having to lug that demonic instrument from home to school over a period of one hour. As she carried the instrument like a backpack, the case continuously banged against the back of her legs, a constant thump-thump, leaving scattered bruises across her thighs by the time she reached the school. Never again, she promised herself that tragic day. “I won’t even try to bother you with my bass-lugging incident. Or my piano-dragging incident, either. Let’s just say I’m pretty well built.”

Elisha smiled, picking up the little stack of books and gesturing with a tip of his head for her to follow him to the front desk to check the books out. “You sure you’re going to be able to carry all these out?” he asked as he scanned the books’ bar codes. “Combined, these all weigh probably about as much as you do.”