Dallas Heritage Village
Dallas Heritage Village is a living museum boasting thirty-eight buildings. The entrance road, Main Street, leads into the Village proper; left behind are the electric lights of the park and upon entering the world of the mid to late 1800s, gaslights line the street.
Along the causeway, the small town takes form. The Blum Brothers' General Store and the Main Street Saloon sit side by side, their sides in clapboard. Along the side roads and alleyways, the various other services such as the post, the physician's office, schoolhouse and the church can be found. Further in and up against the edges of the village are the two story, pre-Civil War residences of the solid, upstanding citizens of the day including the Millers and the Sullivans.
It's the first day of June in the Dallas Heritage Village. The day is winding down, the two school groups that were holding field trips are slowly gathering all their kids and teachers and wrapping up their tours. One of those groups is just finishing up their tour of the Farm, the sound of metal on metal coming from the Blacksmith shop.
"And that's how we make the horse shoes," says the patient voice of Skylar, smiling at the elementary school kids. There is a hiss as the shoe is dropped into the water, before he places it aside and picking up an already finished one, handing it to a small girl. "Here, this is the one you helped me on. Keep it, for luck." He looks around at the rest of the group. "Any other questions before you guys head out?"
A few questions are asked, and Skylar does his best to answer. Then, the group heads out, leaving the blacksmith alone in the shop. Or at least no longer crowded by kids.
—-
And once the children have cleared out, the benches set around the smithy are almost entirely empty, except for the woman still seated and leaning against the railing, watching the interior of the shop, and the blacksmith who seems to be, now, finally free to do, well, whatever it is that blacksmiths do when they're not doing demos for schoolchildren. But she must find that interesting, because she's not looking to be getting up with the rest of the departing crowd. But for the time being, she's too polite to interrupt the man.
—-
Skylar, that man, is dressed in clothing that would not have looked out of place a hundred and fifty years ago; including a blue linen shirt, damp with moisture - both water and sweat, as it is fairly hot in the interior of the blacksmith shop due to the small forge. He doesn't seem to notice the last person lingering inside as he begins to go through the motions of setting things to rights and turning down the forge fire. It is only as he pauses to dip his head in the water barrel, coming up with a head of soaking wet hair that he notices the women. His first response is not verbal, but a lopsided smile, half apologetic, half silent bemusement at himself for having not noticed that he was not alone.
—-
"Oh, don't let me interrupt you," comes the softly pitched answer to that smile, her accent decidedly, well, not Texan, at any rate, but neither is is as easily recognizable as say… a southerner, or a new englander. "I'm hoping that the next demonstration won't be as full of children, it was sort of difficult to see." Mostly because the kids were crowded around, but also partially because she hung back, out of deference to the inquisitiveness of children. "If you need the place emptied out though," and that said, Paige moves to rise, brushing off her hands on her jeans. "It was a pleasure to watch you working. This is the first time I've gotten to see you working. I seem to always come on your days off."
—-
Skylar picks up a cloth to dry his hands and hair on, strands of his hair sticking at odd angles but looking casually disheveled rather then utterly unruly. "Well, we'll be closing up soon. The village closes at four. But if you've any questions, I can certainly do my best to answer," he offers. Even as he offers, he chuckles a bit, and says, "And I'm actually new here. Well, not to Dallas mind you, but the Village itself. Only started last week, though I typically will only be working the weekends. This was a special occasion - there are several field trips scheduled this week, so the Heritage Society was asked me to work extra." He pauses, that lopsided smile coming into play once more. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be breaking the fourth wall like this. I'm supposed to tell you that I've farm chores to do, and do you have any questions little girl?" There's a sparkle of amusement in his dark eyes as he says this last.
—-
"Well, that might explain why I've never seen you doing the demos here before. I thought I just had really bad luck on the days I decide to stop by." Paige doesn't reclaim her seat, but she knows better than to step into the shop either. She's curious, but not stupid. And the last thing she needs is to get some bit of herself burned or scorched, "I'm pretty sure if I asked you all of my questions, you'd be here way past closing, so I'll save it for an earlier demonstration. But don't think I don't appreciate the offer." She does reach out to offer a hand though, which is the only polite thing to do, "I won't tell if you won't. Though I'm not sure little is the right word. Paige Logan." An answering bit of amusement touches her eyes, "Can I get a horseshoe of my own to take home, if I help you make one?" Okay, so she did have one sort of question.
—-
"Fair enough," Skylar says, though he doesn't clarify as to which part is fair. Perhaps all of it. He then pauses, hmming to himself a bit glancing at the forge, which has already begun to cool. "Well, I suppose one last one won't hurt too much." He turns back to Paige, reaching out with his own hand - calloused and with burn scars in places - shaking it firmly, yet gently. "Skylar Murphy. Call me Sky." Sky smiles in greeting, then gestures to Paige to come more fully inside as he turns to stoke the forge a bit.
—-
Once she finally has permission, and she's released his hand, Paige steps inside, around the benches and railing and into the smithy proper, thankfully wearing all natural fibers. She won't be turning into a human torch today…she hopes. "Nice to meet you, Sky. Paige is fine." She's seen quite a few demos today, having come rather early and drifted back to the smithy more than once or twice, but watching them and participating are two different things, and so, she begins as she sort of feels one should begin, "What do you need me to do?"
—-
"Well, Paige, put this on for starters," Sky says, handing her a thick apron. While she may not catch on fire even without it, the apron will protect her from getting burns through the clothes. Once she takes the apron, Sky puts on one himself, then begins the process. "Alright then. Take those tongs here, and take that horse shoe there. We'll work on repairing an old worn shoe, since making one from scratch would take too long. The shoe'll be a little thinner then a new one, since we'll need to stretch it out a bit more to make up for that cracked end, but it'll still work quite nicely, either as a spare shoe, as it were, or a lucky charm." Whether or not he's staying in character, Skylar seems to take this work seriously. Not in a no-nonsense kind of way, but rather in the manner of one who derives great pleasure from the simplicities of his craft.
—-
Paige accepts the apron easily enough, having seem the demo often enough since she's been coming to the village to at least have a feel for a few things, by seeing, if not by actually doing. So the apron goes on, and she takes a moment to tuck up the ponytail her hair was in, into a bun, to keep her hair safe, before she moves in closer, not only listening, but looking also, reaching out a hand to hold it above the shoe, and the tongs both, before she does as instructed, picking up the shoe with the tongs. "I don't think anyone will notice how thin it is, when it's on my house." Good luck charm it seems destined to be.
—-
"Well, I'm just covering my bases. One day, you may need to use it to shoe a horse, and at least this way you'll know its limitations," Skylar replies to Paige with a small grin. "Alright," he says, rolling up his sleeves (exposing muscular, tanned arms) and taking ahold of the bellows, beginning to pump. "Make sure you have a good grip on the shoe. You'll want to place it in the middle here, let it heat up a bit. There's a spot for you to rest it inside, so you can let it go and not heat up the tongs. Once it's good and ready, we'll take it out, and begin to reshape it." He talks her through the process, letting her do the majority of the work, while he acts as the assistant and occasional voice of experience.
—-
"Well, to be honest, I usually left that to the farrier in town. And I tried to stay as far away as I could. I can't bear the smell when a horse is being hot shoed. But my uncle always had it done, said the shoes sat better and were more durable in the snow." Still, Paige does as she's instructed, seeing as how there aren't any horses around right just now and all, setting the shoe down precisely where instructed, and not seeming to mind the heat overmuch, retrieving the tongs and then looking over to the real smith, as it were, "How often can you reshape and reuse a shoe, before the repairs make it too brittle?"
—-
"Yes, that's true. And as long as the shoe is not held on too long while it's being measured, it does no injury to the hoof or horse," Skylar says, smiling slightly as he pumps the bellows a few more times. "To answer your question, it depends. The way we're doing it, usually only a time or two, and only then if there's only the normal wear and tear. The best way is to essentially recycle the metal, heat it and other shoes down into its raw form, and create new shoes." Apparently satisfied with the temperature of the fire, Skylar comes around, seeming to bear the heat just as well as Paige, peering into the fire before nodding. "Alright, now take the shoe out, and put it on the anvil. There's a horseshoe beside it, and we'll use that to shape our shoe." As he instructs, Sky picks up a hammer, and will start the process, demonstrating with a few quick strokes - after warning Paige to be ready, and to beware of sparks and the noise. "Now, you try," he will then say, offering the tool to her.
—-
Now that the work is about to begin, Paige grows quiet, seeming disinclined to share anymore of her stories from home, as it were, preferring to listen and to watch carefully, as Skylar goes through the motions, as interested in how he's stoking the furnace and heating the metal, as in the actual shaping. "I wish that we had enough time to do that." But, as they don't, she moves on, using the tongs to retrieve the shoe from the forge and carrying it over to the anvil. The demonstration she watches just as intently, before she accepts the hammer, seeming to have a good memory for form, as she repeats the blacksmith's movements, moving smoothly, not in the way of someone who's ever done this before, but more in the way of someone who's used to the motion, and the use of their body weight.
—-
"Good. Just remember, the metal isn't your ex or an enemy. You're not trying to beat it into a bloody pulp. Rather, think of it like molding clay. You tap it with just enough force to shape that corner, or that edge, or smooth that flaw. It's a balancing act. Too light and you waste the stroke, and don't effect the metal. Too hard, and the metal becomes brittle, useless." Sky smiles as he says this (he seems to do that a lot, his mouth fitting the expression quite easily), and nods his head. "Good," he says again, "Just so. And perhaps next time you stop by, we can do that, if there is time and no groups running through the place. But this is a valuable lesson in itself. Best to start off simple. Lay the foundation before you build yourself a castle, as my Grams always says."
—-
"Well, seeing as I don't have any enemies that I'm aware of, and i've parted on good terms with what few exes I have, I don't think i'll be feeling the need to beat the metal into submission." Still, she does return the smile, once it's offered, keeping her movements steady and even, though as the metal starts to cool, she doesn't know enough to increase the force of the strike, or to stop all together and reheat, "I'm pretty sure my Oma had a very similar saying, though most of hers tended to be about dogs."
—-
Skylar catches the slip, and says, "Alright, now the metal is cool, you can use the time to correct the smaller flaws, but you'll need more force. Then, it's time to reheat. The core is still pretty hot, so it won't take as much time." Sky watches Paige work, and will move back to the bellows to assist once more in the heating process. "My grams has some sayings about dogs, and a few about everything else under the sun. Whatever best applies to the situation and the person who needs to listen to her."
—-
Paige, in her favour, is not one to argue, when she's following directions, and she does what she can, increasing the force of her strikes, but once it seems, at least to her, that she can't work the metal anymore, that is to say, once it looks as if the strikes are not having any sort of effect, she sets down the hammer, and using the tongs, carries the shoe back over to the forge, setting it back into its place to reheat, "Is there a certain colour you should look for, that tells you that the metal is at the right temperature to work easily?" She does laugh, at the comment about the smith's grandmother, "Do you think it's bred into them, or do you just acquire that sort of knowledge once you reach a certain age?"
—-
"I'm not sure my Grams was born so much as has existed for all time as surely as any other force of Nature," Skylar replies with a laugh and an easy grin, before replying to Paige's more practical question. "As for the metal, yes, there is indeed a certain color that you want to look for. As you'll have noticed, as iron is heated to increasing temperatures, it first glows red, then orange, yellow. When it gets hotter then yellow, it'll turn white. Past that, it'll melt. The ideal heat for most forging is the bright yellow-orange color - known to us smiths as a 'forging heat'." Even as Skylar says this, the shoe is demonstrating his words by changing into lighter colors, now the right color for 'forging heat'. But, rather then say anything, he lets Paige make the distinction, and says, "Because we must be able to see the glowing color of the metal, blacksmiths tend to work in dim, low-light conditions. Which is why if you were to walk into any forge in this day and age, it'd still be much like this here, at least as far as lighting is concerned."
—-
"Made from the same mold as my Oma, then. I've seen pictures of her when she was younger, but I'm fairly sure she stole those from somewhere else." And then, quiet, and an answering smile, before she turns her eyes to the metal, watching the colours change until she moves to retrieve it. Just a fraction too soon, but, she's guessing, based on your description, and it's just a little more orange than yellow. Still, she moves to return to the anvil, retrieving the hammer and starting work again, being a bit more sparky and loud than, well, someone with any sort of proper training would be. Still, she only tightens her lips, making no sound as the sparks occasionally land on her hands and arms, "Do you ever cast shoes, rather than hand forge them?"
—-
"Myself? Well, aside from here, I'm not much of a horseshoe maker. But typically, no. If I needed to make a large amount I might, but even then only as a base - I would still shape them individually, unless I absolutely were unable to." Skylar, still smiling, shrugs his shoulders. "I'm something of a purist - a smithing snob if you will. I hold to the belief that the metal derives strength from the shaping, the folding, the pounding. A cast object is that much weaker, as it has never been tested. Perhaps it will surprise you, but you will never know for sure until it has been through the fire and the anvil." Skylar pauses, then lets out a short laugh. "Would you believe it, now -I- sound like my Grams - and perhaps your Oma. If I mention a poodle in there somewhere, yes?" He grins, then nods to the shoe that she is working on. "That is good. You have an excellent eye. Now, try not to let it get quite as cold this time, and leave it in for half a breath longer."
—-
"That's surprising. I mean, well, we are in the middle of Dallas, but with so many people around who ride horses, I'm surprised that they don't provide more business for you." Paige works the metal, trying to get it as close to what she has has a model as she can, moving back to the forge and back to the anvil, as she follows instruction,s picking up bits and pieces of the conversation as she works, "A husky would be more appropriate. Not much call for poodles on Nome." Still, she pays as much attention to what she's doing with her hands as what she's doing with her mouth, "But it doesn't surprise me, really. I mean, that's why some swords and such are more sought after than others, because the smiths worked them more. Like the japanese swords and those others…damask, is it? Or is that just the kind of steel they used?"
—-
"Both, actually. Steel is a manufacture of humankind, so the different types of steel are actually different recipes. Damascus steel is a type of recipe, as it were," Sky says, speaking even as his eyes study Paige's work. "Good, a few more strokes and you should be done." He says no more then that in regards the the horseshoe, letting her decide which strokes she needs to make, and instead continues the idle conversation they are having as Paige works. "Nome Alaska, I take it? Dallas must be a big change for you. And yes, I'm sure there is a big call for horseshoes. But I'm not much for shoeing horses. Never rode much, never worked with them much. As I said before, this work here at the Village is fairly new for me, and something I really only do for the opportunity to teach and work with kids, not for the paycheck - such as it is."
—-
"The children certainly seem to enjoy your demonstrations. You're much more engaging than the man who's been doing them since the spring. He's very dry, and he doesn't seem to relate to them very well." Something Skylar certainly doesn't seem to have any trouble with. paige continues to work the shoe, making two more trips back to the forge, before she finally steps, setting down the hammer, though she releases the tongs as well, not wanting the metal to get too warm in her hand, "Yes, that's right," that to the question of where she's from, "It's much warmer, certainly, but you'd be surprised how similar the people can be. Especially when you get out into the country." A nod, as she considers, "So what do you make, when you're not working here?"
—-
"Well, thank you, I certainly try. Learning shouldn't be a chore. It's a good thing, after all, and making it fun does not take away from the lesson," Sky says, smiling in response to Paige's compliment. "I can understand about your comment about the people. Smaller communities, and that sort of thing, do you mean?" Nodding in approval after looking over the shoe, he says, "Excellent. Now, you can cool it off in the barrel there to freeze the shape, and you'll be done. Just be careful of the steam." Even as he speaks, he moves to bank the fire, cooling it down. Outside, its obvious the village is closing, though inside, Sky seems to be in no rush to shoo Paige out. "As for myself, I make different things - typically swords and other collectable weapons of custom design, using period techniques. The market is primarily Ren Faires and people into that kind of culture, but you'd be surprised at the clientele base for such a thing. Especially thanks to the communication age that we live in today."
—-
"Not many people in the position to teach children look at it the way you do. Most of them seem to see it as a chore they need to get through." Paige moves as she speaks, carrying the shoe over towards the barrel, seeming to have caught the breeze coming in from the outside just at the right moment, because it blows the steam away from her, but she keeps the metal in there for a while, until all traces of the heat are gone from the bucket of water, "Smaller communities, but it's the mindset, more than anything else. Gossip and such. Everyone wanting to know what everyone else is doing. But sometimes it's nice too…people helping people, treating you as if you were family." Once she finally removes the horseshoe, she prods it with a careful finger to see if the metal is cool enough to touch, and finding that it is, she carries it back to the anvil, "I've been to a few of those. I never had the courage to actually dressup though."
—-
Skylar smiles as Paige speaks of family, though there's a tinge of sadness to it. However, he does not comment that, rather continuing the conversations about the other things she speaks of. "Well, I just feel that if I didn't want to teach children, I don't have to. But they don't have a choice in the matter most of the time, so those of us who -do- choose to teach should try and make it bearable." His smile no longer speaks of a hidden sadness, and is back to his usual, friendly expression. "And you should try next time. There's one coming to town in a few weeks, I'll likely have a booth set up. You should come. If you need clothes for it, I might have something you can borrow."
—-
Paige sets down her shoe, and then moves to try to clean up as best she can, using more common sense and some things she remembers from sitting after the demos than from knowledge. But regardless, she seems disinclined to make you do all of the work, since she is the one that made the mess, "That's a very enlightened view of children…and of teaching. The museum is lucky to have you." At the mention of dressing up, she shakes her head, "Oh, I'm sure I'd look perfectly terrible. I'm not even sure I'd know how to wear a dress."
—-
Skylar laughs softly at Paige's comment about wearing a dress, his grin casually lopsided as he replies, "Well, I'm not sure I can help you with -that-, but the offer is there nonetheless if you change your mind." He holds out a hand, saying, "Here, I'll take the apron from you. And please, you don't have to do that. You'll make it seem like I'm making the tourists do all the work." He chuckles, then says, "Regardless, though, you really did quite well. You've got a good eye. You are naturally attuned to things that even more experienced people have trouble picking up on."
—-
"I'm sure I don't have to, but I'd like to. because you didn't have to either." She does, however, hand over the apron, before she takes a moment to look around, "And if anyone asks, tell them I'm an apprentice here on a trial run. I'm sure you must have one or two of those, right?" The compliment is accepted, graciously, "Thank you, it's not that much different from learning to chop wood, knowing how to swing, where to put your body weight, how to follow through. I don't think I got the colour quite right though."
—-
"The subtler nuances take time, that's all. With practice, if you wanted, you could become quite good," Sky replies with a smile, before shaking his head. "An apprentice? Not here, no. I'm afraid I'm all there is. The Village doesn't really focus on smithing as much as the overall history in the whole museum, so I doubt they'd opt to hire any." Once the shop is cleaned up, and Sky has hung up his own apron, he washes up much like he did the first time, and then picks up Paige's horseshoe, handing it to her. "Here you go, this is yours. Use it well, young Jedi." He pauses, cracking another grin. "Too nerdy?"
—-
"It was very nice to do something so labour intensive. I think I'd like to try it again, one day when you have some more free time." She shoos away the comment on an apprentice, "Oh not here, of course. I was just trying to think up an excuse that would explain why a tourist is helping you clean up your shop. I'm very good at PR you know." Silence, as she watches you wash up, before she steps back towards you to accept the shoe, her free hand rising to measure a small distance between her thumb and index finger, "Just a little bit." A wink, before she steps back, "Can a tourist walk a demonstrator out to his car? Or buggy. I don't judge."
—-
"Well, as long as it's not more then that," Skylar replies with a chuckle. He accepts the offer with another smile and a nod, saying, "Of course. Though you may wish to reserve judgement - sometimes the horse gets finicky and won't start. Have to him a carrot or two to get him to move." Sky winks, before glancing around the shop, making sure everything is put away properly. He then proceeds to lock the shop up, and will then turn to Paige. "Alright then, I think that's that."
—-
Paige seems quite happy to follow you out of the shop, once everything is as it should be, holding her horseshoe quite possessively, not very unlike the girl who helped you just before. It's just natural, to want to hold on to something you made, sort of, with your own hands, "I'm afraid that's all on you though. because I am all out of carrots. Although, I might have some dried apple slices in my car."
—-
"Fair enough," Skylar says. He smiles as he speaks to Paige, largely because that's just his nature - but likely also because he has noticed the way she holds the horseshoe. As they approach the parking lot, Paige will see that Sky's vehicle is not, in fact, horse-drawn. "Well, here we are," he says, reaching into his pocket, and pulling out a card. Taking out a pen, he scribbles on the back, and then he offers it in the woman's direction. It contains the contact information for his company, Sky Blades, and on the back is his cell phone number. "In case you ever want to learn more, and can't find me here. And in case you decide to try on a dress at least once in your life."
—-
"You gave into the allure of modern technology. Shame." That's said with no small amount of humour, as Paige finally makes it out to your car. The shoe she slips into one hand, as she accepts the card, holding it between the fingers of the same hand, as she reaches back to pull a wallet out of her back pocket, also retrieving a card, "Just ignore all of that stuff on the front, except for the phone numbers." It's one of her 'business' cards, with the name of the show and her position and such, "Thank you for taking the time, Sky. I really did enjoy myself. And I'll look forward to working with you again." She offers the card over, and there's just a hint of something in her expression, as she waits to see your reaction.
—-
"We can't be purists in all aspects of our lives - it would be entirely too boring," Sky points out with a grin and a chuckle to match Paige's humour. He then takes the card from her, glancing at it only briefly. There's a pause as his eyes glance over the writing and the numbers, but then he seems to take Paige at her word as he makes no comment on the writing, and slides the card away. "Me too, Paige," he says, offering her his hand with an easy smile. If she's looking for a reaction, it's likely hard to tell. His expression is one of easy friendliness, but that in itself makes it a little difficult to read, as that is his typical expression. "It was great meeting you, and I look forward to working with you too, or just talking. Whether or not you decide to wear a dress," he says, adding that last with a bit of a wink.
—-
Paige hands over the card, after she tucks yours away for safekeeping, and the wallet soon following. And once she has a hand free, she returns the shake, before she steps back, giving you room to step into the car, before she'll head off to her own, "Now you're making it so I'm going to have to. But maybe not inside the shop. That might be a bit too dangerous." Still, she'll wait until you're safely away. Stranger perhaps, but it seems to just be her way, "Be careful out there."
