A Farmer and a Bladesmith walk into a Forge...

For what seemed like the millionth time, Daniel tried to get a feel for a weapon. Any weapon would do. He wouldn't even mind using a hammer if he had some skill, but even that just didn't feel right to him. The son of Demeter was quickly losing patience. He had tried nearly every weapon that he could find in the weapon shed, but none of them fit him. Today he had borrowed a spear, and while it felt comfortable, attacking with it did not. He felt too exposed, and he didn't like how he could only stab. It felt like ploughing the same field over and over, even though the soil was already furrowed for planting. He didn't know if he could find any variation with it, and it just felt awkward. The manniquin that he had borrowed to practice in the forest in solitude was scored with cuts, dents, and burn marks, a testament to how many weapons he had tried. With a bit of a growl he threw the spear to the ground and looked up at the sky. I suppose skill at fighting is too much to ask for, huh mom.

He felt bad for being bitter, but he had been looking for a good weapon ever since he had arrived at camp. It was long past the time he should've found one, and the main reason was that he was too stubborn to accept offers of help, and too stubborn to ask for it. Really, he shouldn't be training in the forest at all, but he didn't want anyone to notice him struggling. He definitely didn't want their pity. Wiping the sweat off of his brow with a forearm, he looked at the sky, his dark brown eyes catching the sunlight. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. It had been too long. He needed to ask for help, and he hated it. The Ares campers would just tell him to go play with flowers, and the Athena campers would try to explain things that were over his head. That left the Hephaestus kids.

Taking a deep breath, the suntanned teen made his way back towards camp to drop off the spear in the shed. He thought about making sure he looked presentable, but then he realized he would probably still be the cleanest one at the forge. They worked in sweltering temperatures around molten metal, engine grease, oil, and who knew what else. Scratching his head one last time, he made his way towards the forge, his black hair falling into place as he stepping inside.

It was safe to say that Malcolm Johnson preferred the forge over anything else Camp Half-Blood had to offer and that included the sword fighting arena. It wasn't that it was hard for him, but rather, he didn't like the fact that he might hurt someone. Everyone, well almost everyone, knew him as a gentle giant, but still. The thought of him accidently injuring someone still loomed over his head.

The African American camper lumbered his way into the forge and sat down at his work bench, seeing what he had to take care of for today. He sighed, scratching the back of his head and making his way to the anvil and made sure it was clean, getting soot on the palm of his hands. He was looking forward to spending all day at the forge, then heading over to the slabs of celestial bronze where he picked them up and headed over to the main work area.

Daniel looked around sheepishly as he stepped inside. This was the first time he had even gone inside the forge, unless you counted the orientation tour. It just wasn't really his favorite place. Much too hot, and much too loud for his tastes. From what he could tell, it was a bit of a slower day for the forge, there were a few campers murmering to each other over a project whose purpose Daniel couldn't quite figure out. He was getting a bit embarrassed when he noticed the tall child of Hephaestus moving towards the main area on his own.

Taking a deep breath, he mentally rehearsed what he wanted to say and started walking towards the other boy. He raised an arm in greeting hoping that he wouldn't get a glare or worse, "Hey there! I was wondering if you had a second?"

The son of Hephaestus turned around to see a male around his age with dark brown hair and brown eyes. Was he addressing him? He wasn't sure, but he knew that it would be rude not to say to say anything. It might've been a southern thing. "Sure, I have a few minutes. Do you have a weapon made or do you need something created?" Malcolm asked timidly, avoiding eye contact with the other Greek demigod. He never really talked much around camp, usually keeping to himself and working either in the forge or staying in his factory styled cabin.

Daniel rubbed his head awkwardly, his eyes flicking off to the side for a moment. "I need something created, if it's not too much trouble." With a start, he realized he hadn't introduced himself, and he felt himself flush a bit, thankfully the son of Hephaestus wasn't looking at him. "I'm Daniel by the way. I was wondering if you could help me out."

The son of Demeter shuffled a bit, trying to find the right words to explain himself. "Every weapon I've tried to use just feels awkward to me. I was raised on a farm, the only weapons I've touched are rifles, and we can't use them here. I was wondering if you could make me something like a reaping scythe. It's the closest thing to a weapon I would feel comfortable with." The last bit he had trouble getting out. He didn't like asking for help, and it hurt the little bit of pride he carried to admit he needed it. Rubbing his neck, he looked back up at the taller camper. "Would you mind?"

"No, of course not." It was what Malcolm lived for! He didn't mind helping his fellow demigods out all he asked for was for it to be asked respectfully. "Hey, Daniel. I'm Malcolm." He greeted back and stood up straight instead of being hunched over. The young son of Hephaestus thought about it for a moment, trying to think. Then he asked, "Sure, I don't mind helping you with finding a weapon." He glanced down at the Greek's camp, beaded necklace and noticed the symbol of Demeter.

"That makes sense why you're more equipped with a scythe..." He said in thought, looking at his necklace still.

Daniel's face broke into a wide smile when Malcolm agreed. He had almost expected to be turned away. "Thank you so much!" He said, his voice filled with relief. "I just hate feeling useless with a weapon, you know?" Noticing Malcolm looking at his necklace, he looked down and touched his mom's symbol briefly. He always liked looking at it, the wheat reminded him of the fields.

"Yeah, I've always been pretty good with the scythe back home. Even before I was really supposed to use it." He let the necklace drop back to his chest with a goofy smile on his face. "I don't really know anything about forging... How does this work? I haven't been in here since I first came to camp."

Malcolm led him over to his own workbench and started to sketch out a design like he's done hundreds of times before. "It's kind of hard for me to explain what really happens here since it comes so naturally to me. Like I'm sure how gardening and cooking comes naturally to you." The son of Hephaestus always enjoyed making connections between himself and other demigods and demigoddesses.

"Do you know what you want your celestial bronze scythe to look like, Daniel?" Malcolm asked, sketching out the staff part first. A smile came to his face when he thought about the last time he made a customized weapon. It was for Jackson. A kopis to be exact.

Daniel followed the other boy and watched quietly as the son of Hepaestus begain to sketch. It was interesting, because he had never had the time to draw. He wasn't really sure he had the inclination for it either. He could tell that Malcolm had talent for it, and he watched, almost mesmerized by the pencil strokes. He laughed a little bit at the cooking comment. "I actually didn't get much of the cooking talent from mom, just plants."

He thought for a moment, trying to decide what he would want more than what would make it functional. "Maybe rays of sunlight?" He scratched his head and chuckled. "As long as it's functional, I'm happy. You can do what you want with it other than that. I'd like if you had some fun with it instead of just hammering it out. My dad always said it's better to have fun while you're working."

Daniel watched the son of Hepaestus sketch, fascinated. His design was way better than anything he personally could've come up with. "Wow, that looks awesome!" He looked up at the African American boy with a huge grin. "That would be perfect!" His brown eyes had lit up, and he could feel the excitement growing. Finally he would have something that felt natural to him. He tried not to dance around in excitement, but he couldn't help rocking back and forth slightly. "If you could do something like that, it would be amazing! Do you want anything for making it? I can bring you food or something whenever you want." He tried to calm down a bit and rein himself in, remembering how timid the other boy had been. He didn't want to weird the guy out, but he was really excited.

Daniel grinned at Malcolm's payment of choice. "Double chocolate chip cookies it is!" While he had said that he didn't inherit any cooking skill from Demeter, it wasn't necessarily true. He could cook or bake a lot of things he had recipes for with varying degrees of success, but he had no imagination. He could never make his own recipes, and most dishes he had to cook meat for eluded him.

At Malcolm's question, he extended his arms as if he were holding the scythe he had back home and mimed a swing. " Probably a three and a half foot blade with a gentle curve to it?" The farm boy laughed and absentmindedly rubbed his missing finger. Then he realized what Malcolm meant and flushed. "Oh you meant for the staff! Probably around five feet? Maybe a bit shorter so I have more range of movement."

Daniel was still embarrassed when Malcom began talking. He wasn't normally so absentminded, but he was out of his element. He had never really considered the complexity of creating tools and weapons. "Four and two thirds would be great! Yeah, I don't know what other metal I would want." He watched Malcolm move around, preparing everything.

When the son of Hephaestus pushed the bucket beyond the mold, Daniel's eyes widened. He had definitely not expected to see Malcolm act so casual with flames licking around his hands. When he didn't comment on it, the son of Demeter relaxed a bit. It must be a gift from Hephaestus, he supposed. "About how long does it usually take to melt the metal down?" He wanted to know if he had enough time to run back to cabin 4 to start on the cookies. Malcolm would probably be hungry after doing all the work on the staff. Although maybe Malcolm would want to talk to pass the time.

Daniel stared blankly for a second, wondering how Malcolm didn't know exactly how long it would take, until he realized he was the same way during a harvest. Malcolm had walked back to his workbench and was sketching out the blade, again easily beating anything Daniel could do. He was still fascinated with the detail the gentle giant included. He couldn't imagine how the finished product would look. "You really love forging, huh?"

The son of Demeter wasn't sure what to do, so he stood around, trying to stay out of the way.

Daniel laughed when Malcolm smirked. "I think all of us have our talents and skills. I think you're right about being meant to be who you are." He took the seat that Malcolm brought over with a sheepish grin on his face. "Just because we're good at things doesn't mean we'll always enjoy them, you know?"

"I'm from Adams County, in Ohio. It's out in the middle of nowhere. Tons of farmland, forests, fields, rivers... It's a great place for someone like me. My house doesn't even have a driveway." Daniel smiled, his gaze faraway before he snapped back to reality. "How about you? Where are you from?"

"Exactly!" He smiled a bit, thinking about how when he learned about Demeter, he thought it made sense, even though there were certain traits and skills he hadn't inherited.

"It's a really nice place. Everybody looks out for each other, and there's not a lot of distractions. Sadly, some of the people are a bit... Well there's not a whole lot of nice words to describe them." Daniel focused a bit more on Malcolm's reluctance to talk about the south. I've heard that Alabama looks nice, but I doubt I would get along with a lot of people there. No offense, of course." In the back of his mind, he was wondering if the people there were the same as the older citizens of Adams County. Most of them were incredibly intolerant, and it never failed to irritate him.

Daniel grimaced sadly. He had hoped that what he heard about a good amount of the south wasn't true, but in this case, it appeared that it was. "A lot of people are stuck in the past everywhere I guess..." His words sounded a bit mournful. He had seen his own share of hate and it broke his heart.

"If anyone messes with you, they're going to catch a scythe to the face though." Daniel's voice was surprisingly angry, his mood had taken a sharp turn. He hated seeing anyone treated differently or poorly. Malcolm didn't really need to say much for him to understand. Adams County was a place that didn't have much tolerance for anybody that was different. It was only the younger generations that showed a bit of decency. "Hopefully, if you ever do move back, they'll treat you the same as everyone else. Or at least leave you alone." The tanned farmer gave a quick smile of sympathy before his eyes flicked to his own hands. Maybe he had said too much, but he didn't want the kind blacksmith to feel so alone. He must have carried a lot of pain, and he likely still carried it. "I was, uh, always made fun of when my dad and I went to town." He cleared his throat. "They said my mom was... Well all sorts of bad stuff. They picked on me for never hanging out with other kids. Thought I was weird for working so much." His voice grew quiet. "Made fun of us for being poor."

Daniel nodded in agreement with Malcolm. There were a lot of people out there that judged each other, or had preconceived ideas about others based on the littlest things. Things that others usually couldn't control, and shouldn't feel like they had to. He glanced up at Malcolm when the son of Hephaestus spoke again. Malcolm was a good guy. Life was hard, and he never really expected much more than quiet sympathy or pity. Rarely did he meet anyone who could actually understand to a certain degree, even if their situations were different.

With a sigh and a shrug, he gave half a grin. "On the plus side, since I learned my mom is Demeter, we've had the biggest crops in the county." At that his grin broadened and he nodded his head. "Take all the crap they give and put whatever you need to into what you love. Easiest way to shut them up." Holding back from pulling the burly son of Hephaestus into a hug, he said "And thanks. Most people don't talk to me enough to think I'm anything more than a workaholic. Which isn't really off the mark I guess." He chuckled a bit. He had switched topics slightly, but he wasn't super comfortable talking about a lot of his past outside of the farm.