a dagger under my pillow | TRISTAN

She wasn't necessarily a violent person. Honest. But even the most tree-huggin liberal on the island would have to admit that there was a real danger out there, and that protection was completely necessary. That is the reason why AB decided to buy a knife. In all honestly, she would have preferred a gun, but those seemed to be off limits in demi-gods wars. What a strange world this was...

In the last five years, Annabeth had been to the mall numerous times, but she had finally saved up the funds to be able to afford a nice knife, not one of those crappy little ones with the switch blade she can carry in her pocket, because she had about a million of those littered around her apartment, but a really, honest to goodness, knife with a sheath and everything.

She entered the store and started to peruse the inventory, looking over the items and wondering what made one better than the other and so forth. She really wished that there was someone around she could talk to, but a glance around the store didn't offer any help.

@tristan

The front of the store was empty when Tristan's latest shipment came in, so he had went immediately into the back to start sorting it. Various metals and gems were strewn across the workbench when he heard the small alarm he had set up to let him know someone had opened the door finally went off. He quickly put anything valuable in a decently safe place before walking through the door to see his latest customer.

She was standing by a display of knives, which he found interesting. Then again, everyone on the island needed a good knife at the least, if not a bow or a sword. It was just part of being a Demi-God or Goddess. "Hello ma'am. Can I help you with something?" He asked as he approached the display, extending his hand in greeting when he was close enough.

AB had picked up a rather ornate looking piece that seemed more like something she'd hang on the wall and less like something she would stab someone with. After watching the gems set into the handle glitter for a moment, she slid it as carefully as she could back into place, accidentally dropping it heaving against the display. She gasp and tried to hurriedly shove it back into place while simultaneously spinning around to face the man the voice had just come from, "Uh, yeah." Annabeth laughed at herself, holding her hands behind her back.

"I was lookin' for somethin' to keep in my bedroom." AB smiled at him, dang what a good-lookin' guy, "You know, somethin' to protect myself in case of Titan attack, or whatever." She shrugged and ran a finger along the knife she had previously dropped, "But I don't need any fancy knife or anything. Somethin' practical." She raised an eyebrow at the man, "You got anythin' like that?" Her southern accented twanged with every word.

Tristan looked over the selection of knives she was looking at, most of which were very ornate. The things that stayed on display the longest tended to be more flashy, which meant he really needed to work on getting his stock back up. "Hmmm. Actually, give me one sec. I might have something in the back right up your alley." He had almost forgotten about that piece he finished the day before, complete with a matching sheath.

Feeling fairly proud of himself, Tristan packed the knife into one of the cases that he gave out with every knife or smaller weapon. Handing it over to the lady, Tristan smiled. "It's about as simple as they come without a custom order. If ya want, I can do that too. I could have one for ya in about two days." On the one hand, he hoped she liked the one he already had, but he couldn't help but hope she'd want something else so that she would stay a little longer. He kinda liked the girl for some reason that he hadn't quite placed yet.

The knife

While she was waiting for the boy to return, AB leaned over the look at what looked like some sort of armor. It wasn't like armor she remembered from those old books about King Arthur, though. Actually, it was more similar to the stuff she saw when watching that TV show Rome, or maybe the movie Pompeii. It was gilded and beautiful and she couldn't help but reach out and run her fingers over the shiny surface. The cool metal under her fingers became smudged and, in a panicked attempt for fix her mistake, AB started rubbing at the only part of the armor that wasn't shining anymore. The smudge just got bigger and she rubbing the surface so hard the armor fell right off the shelf and clamored to the floor loudly.

It was in that moment that the boy came back into the room. Annabeth turned around and faced him again, having the distinct feeling a dejavu. He must really think she is the clumsiest person on the island. She approached him sheepishly, "Sorry..." She knew her face was red, but it didn't bother her all that much.

Finally, she took the nice box he had offered to her and popped it open. Her eyes sparkled as she looked down at exactly the type of thing she was looking for, "Oh, wow." AB looked up at him and smiled, "This is exactly what I wanted, how did you know?" AB placed the box on a counter and pulled out the knife, unsheathing it to take a look at the blade, "Real pretty."

"It's my job." Tristan grinned, walking towards the suit of armor laying on the floor. Chuckling, he picked it up with one hand and hung it back up in its place. The smudge was prominent, telling him exactly what would happen. Pulling a cloth out of his back pocket, he wiped it off quickly and easily, removing both the smudge in question and the ones he had made picking it up. "Polishing cloth." He explained playfully. "Gets rid of even the most onery spots." It happened all the time, thats why he carried the clothe with him.

"So, what's the verdict? Do we have a match or are we needin to do some work on it?" He had to admit it suited her. "It's not bad for hand to hand if ha know how to use it, but a little big for throwin. There are also about twenty just like runnin around the island. Maybe add your initials in or something? I can do that right now."

AB had basically decided not to touch anything that looked shiny or breakable again for a little while. She wasn't the graceful type and putting her in a room full of distracting, shiny things probably wasn't her best call, but she couldn't help but feel thankful she had wandered into Custom Combat, "My initials, huh?" She asked, placing the knife back into the casings as carefully as she could. As she slid the blade back into it's sheath, she nicked her finger and winced a little, ignoring the dot of blood that was bright red against her tan skin.

She held the box out to him, "Whatever you think is best." She winked, "My name is Annabeth Wallace." The girl tilted her head to one side, "I go by AB, mostly, so maybe AB instead of AW?" The girl's dark eyes were shining, "It would be very much appreciated."

"Well Ms. Wallace, let me get you a bandaid for that finger and I'll get right on it." The first aide kit was on his side of the counter and out in the open from frequent use. Rummaging through it, he found an alcohol swab and a small bandaid that should do the trick. "Here we are." He announced. Moving the knife to the far side of the counter, he offered the two tiny packets to her before turning his attention back to her knife. A few minutes and a couple specialized tools would do the trick nicely.

His hands were hot before he had even finished turning off the water. Grasping the knife firmly, he heated it up just enough to let the etching take without compromising the blade. It was a perk of his power, not having to do things the traditional way. Once it was glowing hot, he grapp d the etching tool and began writing the letters AB in the best script he could. When he was satisfied with them, he threw the blade into the water before submerging his hands as well to cool them faster. Grabbing the still warm blade, he then placed it on the cooling bad behind the counter so that he could give it a once over before handing it off.

"As soon as it cools you should be good to go Miss." Tristan informed her with a small smile.

Despite the fact that the cut was very small, the actually laceration had gone deeper than AB had originally thought. The small nick soon turned into a bloody mess and she had to ball her hand into a fist to keep it from dripping all over this guy's floor. AB smiled through the irritation and took the first aid supplies offered to her, despite her very being rejecting the idea of charity from a stranger. She wasn't a charity case and she didn't need anyone's help, most of the time...

But she had to admit, once she got passed the terrible stinging of the alcohol swab, she was thankful for the band-aid. The pressure from pulled the flesh-toned latex tight over the tip of her finger cut back on the blood that dripped down her hand and actually relived some of the pain that she was feeling. She looked up from her gash in time to watch his hand heat the blade to a glowing red color. It hadn't occurred to her to even think of who his father might be and now she wouldn't even need to ask. Hephaestus, had to be. Of course, he could be Roman but most of the Romans gave off a strict, no nonsense sort of vibe and this guy was charmingly laid back, which almost immediately led her to believe he was like her. That he was Greek.

After doing her best to wipe the blood from her hand with the alcohol swab, Annabeth leaned over the counter and watched him carve the letters into the metal carefully. It was fascinating, watching him work, like watching a magician or something. His expertise was obvious in the way he acted with the metal. He knew exactly what temperature to make it in order to save the integrity of the dagger, it was truly awe inspiring, "How impressive." She chimed, smiling at his work, "If only my trade was so useful." As if she had been planning it, AB pulled a card for CLUB NYSA out of her pocket and scribbled something on the back of it, "You drinks are on me the next time you come in Mister..." She suddenly realized she had never learned his name.

"Hill. Tristan Hill." He supplied, reaching out to take the card. So, she was the owner of that new club in town. He had heard of it but hadn't made it there for himself. He was too busy most nights to go out now that the shop was open. "NYSA, what does that stand for?" He asked, genuinely curious. He enjoyed a good party every now and then, so he was more than interested. Maybe he could convince Taze to go with him.

The knife was cool to the touch when he turned to grab it. Now all he had to do was test it to make sure he hadn't screwed with the integrity of the metal when he heated it. Taking out a block of wood and another block of something a little less hard, he began to run the tests. Hitting it he wooden block in several spots, he assured himself that it was completely fine, but just to be sure he made sure to stab the viscous material a few times.

"It simulates skin. If it goes through this without turning, it'll do the job." He stated, knowing that he probably looked a little crazy. Stabbing random objects was not a sign of sanity. sharpening the edge on a stone he had built into the work top surface, he took care of the blunt edges the hacking had created. Finally, he took the cloth that he had left out on the counter and wiped the blade down until it was shining once more.

A lock of dark brown curls fell over her shoulder and AB ran her fingers through it before throwing her hair into a pony tail on the back of her head. She was watching the metal turned from glowing red to a cooler, metallic shade of silver. The little "AB" was perfect, carved in neat lines into the hard surface, "Tristan." She said sweetly, laughing a little bit, "I ain't gunna lie, Mr. Hill, I definitely had you pegged as a Colton or a Hunter or somethin' like that. You're so...." She paused a moment to contemplate her answer, "...Southern."

Annabeth wasn't stupid by any means, and a lifetime around knives and guns had taught her well enough to know that you needed to test a blade before you just went off expectin' it to be of any use. But she accepted his explanation without complaint, certain that the other, more city-slickin' kids on this island probably looked at him like he was one fry short of a Happy Meal. She laughed at her own thoughts and nodded as she watched him polish off the knife, "I assume you're gunna want some form of payment." She reached into her pack pocket and pulled out a handful of drachma and American dollars, "What sorta payment do you take?" She inquired, referring to the difference between drachmas and regular money.

"Drachmas mostly. It gets the most 'round here. Even the delivery guy seems to take 'em." He replied with a chuckle. "And you can call me Tris." He liked his full name, honest, but something about it just seemed like a mouthful. Picking up a pad of paper, he filled out the sale bill quickly. Sure, he could've used the computer, but this felt much more personal. Tristan knew every detail of every piece that left this shop, so to him it was just that. He'd rather have paperwork scattered everywhere over a flash drive any day.

When he was done totaling up the cost, Tristan tore of the paper from the rest of the pad and turned it to face her. "It totals up to about 10 drachmas for everything all together. If you don't want the sheath I can knock a few off. That's up to you." This was the part he hated, putting a price on his work. Half the time he thought he could just start giving it away and live of the satisfaction of doing the work. The other half, he thought it was priceless and that he should never let a single thing leave. It was a struggle for sure.

"Tris." She tried the name in her mouth for a moment, "Mmm, I like that better." She leaned in a little closer to him and whispered, "It suits you." She let out a heavy sigh a dropped the three drachma she had charried with her on the table between them. She stared at the coinage for a moment, suddenly realizing she had left her stash in a jar at the club, "Dang it, I'm about as useful as a steerin wheel on a mule." She groaned, "I left all that damn money on my desk back at NYSA. Anyway you could be convinced to hold the dagger for me till I get it?"

"I'll do one better." He countered, pushing the coins back in her direction. "You take these back with you, and I'll deliver this tonight personally. You can pay then and I'll take you up on those drinks." For a moment, Tristan wondered if he had come on too strong. "It's a win-win situation if ya really stop and think about it." Flashing a grin in her direction, Tristan simply decided to hope for the best. What's the worst that could happen?

AB smiled knowingly, "A win-win huh?" She laughed, "In that I don't have to come back here and you get free alcohol, or are you referrin' to somethin' else?" Annabeth really liked to teased this boy for some reason, something about him was just so...well...she'll think of the word later.