2476/Virginia Blues

Virginia Blues
Date of Scene:	09 September 2017
Location:	Virginia
Synopsis:	Things go horribly, horribly wrong in Virginia for Jo Harvelle, Dean Winchester, and Agent Mom... er.. May.
Cast of Characters:	Dean Winchester, Jo Harvelle, Melinda May

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Dean Winchester has posed:
/Somewhere on Route 66//

The small Virginia town off the beaten path has been an odd one as of late. Over a month ago, a stranger blazed into the next town over, claimed they had a hellhound infestation, and proceeded to deal with said problem... by tracking a 'coven' to this place. Law enforcement hadn't exactly been okay with the explanation, and, as usual, Dean ended up in prison.

It's what had kept him from responding to Sam's kidnapping faster. In many ways he'd had extreme guilt over his most recent stint in lock-up. If only because it kept him from helping out Sam. Which is likely why he never told Sam about the arraignment scheduled for today.

Jo, on the other hand, along with Ellen, had put up his bail. Between the reminders and the recently acquired Impala-passenger, he wasn't going to miss the date. Ironically, any plans to go back to Hell's Kitchen before now had been eaten by the road and its plans for the Harvelle-Winchester duo.

It's fortunate that time in court went as expected and all charges were dropped on insufficient evidence. It's equally fortunate that the town has one of the best burger joints in the State--at least according to Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives, and is a great place for a break.

Dean, in his cheap, rather ill-fitting suit, leans back in the chair and smugly smirks as he takes a too-large bite into his too-big burger. "Worth it," he murmurs around the meat, talking around the patty instead of actually focusing on chewing, a habit that Sam said would get him killed. Choking is a hazard.

Greedily, he peels back the paper and takes an even larger bite. He speaks around the burger in his trap, "...told ... ya... " he was right. There wasn't enough evidence. "You know though..." he finally swallows, "...one thing bothers me about the job..." but of course he doesn't say what, instead he tucks back into the burger. His company is so fortunate that he's so forthcoming.

Jo Harvelle has posed:
Jo, the blue eyed blonde, sitting opposite the Hunter raises a pale eyebrow at the atrocious table manners. "You'd think I'd be used to this by now..." she grumbles as she shakes her head. "I'm not speaking to you, till finish that mouthful. Say it, don't spray it, Dean...."

Her own burger, in comparison is laid out on a plate in front of her and being eaten in a far more dainty manner. More dainty, but no less heartily, mind you. Taking a bite and wiping the corner of her mouth with a serviette, Jo gives Dean a very dry look as he makes his last observation.

"I'm sure you'll regale me with the wisdom of your experience in the fullness of time, but I'll bite. What is it that bothers you about the job?"

Melinda May has posed:
It did not go unnoticed that Dean was not there to help rescue Sam from Hydra, and May took it upon herself to find out why. Even with SHIELD’s resources at hand, tracking down someone skilled at staying off the grid is not instantaneous. But, finally, they got a hit. A court hearing in Virginia regarding a young man matching Dean’s description and some very unusual circumstances. May has the intel experts lock that file, then goes to speak with Dean herself.

As Jo is commenting on Dean’s table manners or lack thereof, the simply dressed Asian woman steps into the diner, looking at first glance just like any other traveller stopping in for a bite to eat before getting back on the road. She doesn’t even glance toward where the two Hunters are seated as the waitress leads her to a table nearby.

Of course, to anyone used to having to keep an eye out, May practically screams ‘Fed’.

Dean Winchester has posed:
A smirk follows Jo's assessment of his table manners. Dean waggles his burger and watches her, "Aw, c'mon. It's fine," he basically raised himself--probably makes sense why his manners are what they are. Then again, he claims to have raised Sam too, and Sam seems fine. Who knows?

He eyes the room once over and then lowers his voice, "It was too easy." He actually shrugs at that. "A few weeks back we go deal with Stepford, Virginia after I dealt with //this//," the witch problem, "in the same relative vicinity. Yeah, I think something more is going on here. Plus it was almost too easy. I mean," he takes another bite of his burger, and then speaks around the food again, "I'm... good. But I'm not //that// good." He issues her a one shouldered shrug and a pointed look.

Slowly, he twists around the room and his eyes train on the casually dressed woman before he glances away and shrugs at Jo again with an extremely saccharine smile.

Jo Harvelle has posed:
Is Jo a Hunter? She's a Hunters daughter that's for sure - she probably is now though, given who she's thrown her lot in with.

"I don't like wearing your food, Dean..." she shoots back but can't help but smile a bit. His demeanour ... well, it's not exactly charming, but she does have a soft spot for the man. Heavens knows why.

"If you call being held up by your throat whilst a demon possessed old woman tries to choke you and I run over the others in your car, simple... sure?" The blonde frowns though and glances at the casually dressed asian woman who walks through the door. She doesn't know this 'Agent Mom' but the frown deepens. "What do you make of her ..." she asks quietly raising her chin. Deans been keeping her on her feet with little tests like this since hit the road.

"And I know just how //good// you are. Trust me. Your technique could do with some work..." Can't have the Hunter's ego getting too big now, can she?

Melinda May has posed:
Still behaving like just another tourist, May asks for a glass of water before proceeding to try to find anything on the menu that isn’t either deep fried or drowning in fat. She’s not hopeful. She also uses the time to quietly check the building for exits (three: the front door, the kitchen, and the plate glass windows), defensible positions (two: the main counter and behind what sounds like fairly solid cooking surfaces based on the sheer amount of banging and clanging the short order cook is making), and potential threats in the room.

The last is just one. The blonde woman sitting across from Dean. She’s very likely a hunter just like Winchester, based on her posture, choice of clothing, and the pistol she thinks is adequately concealed on her person.

Dean Winchester has posed:
"Yeah... should've figured a way to make a demon trap for that one," Dean replies about the woman who held him by his throat. He rubs his chin. "Parading teens through town for some ritual? Doesn't lend itself to a trap." His lips purse at that. "Bobby thinks she'll be fine, by the way. But it's not enough. Something else is up."

His eyes scan the room slowly, lingering on one corner longer than he ought to--remembering more than actually seeing. He inhales a half-breath at the question, and shrugs once. "Tourist," clearly. "You? Think there's more going on?"

But despite himself, his eyes turn back to the corner and he clears his throat. "I think these cases are related. But I don't know what's up. Coven here. Cult there. They're not really different. Not //really//."

Jo Harvelle has posed:
Jo probably has a pistol on her. At least. Dean probably hadn't let her out of the car without it. Not that Ellen would have either. Her blue eyes watch the asian 'tourist' and frown at the Hunter as he brushes her off.

"I don't know, Dean. I think you're testing me. See what I can do. I've seen you do it with Sammy." There's another dry look at the Hunter as the blonde takes a bite from her burger. It's getting a bit cold now, she'll probably have to eat faster.

As to making a demon trap, the blond snorts derivisely. "Parading teens through town ... Stepforded Teens ... didn't set off any alarms for you, at all?" To be fair, Dean had thought they were dealing with a Coven but Jo's not one to let the moment pass.

"They're different enough, but they're motives all seem to be the same, right? World domination, incredibly power .... itty bitty living spaces ..." she can't help but add the last. Maybe the Hunter will get the reference.

Seeing the 'tourist' looking at her, Jo raises pale eyebrows again and salutes the woman with her cup. "Nice place here, ain't it?" she calls out before brushing her hair back from her face and sighing at Dean.

"Yeah, I think there's something going on. Too much activity. Too much //similar// activity and it's too easy ..." she shakes her head "... can't believe I'm saying that."

Melinda May has posed:
“It’s certainly quaint,” is the Asian woman’s reply to Jo’s words. She finally decides that maybe (hopefully) the roast chicken plate will be the least offensive thing on the menu, and requests that from the waitress. Then, as if to further try to sell the tourist cover, she pulls her phone out of one pocket and starts to tinker with it.

She’s of course not idly checking Facebook. She’s sending a text back to some interested party or other. That, or she’s typing a firmly worded email to someone. Like… Darcy.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean leans forward in his seat. "Yeah, I sound like a real charmer." The constant tester. The ever-on-his toes Hunter aiming to create much the same in those he associates with. His jaw tightens and his chin tucks towards his chest pensively, but as he does so, his eyes hone in on the door and a vehicle outside.

"You know that car?" he asks slowly. It's possible he's just experiencing deja vu. His lips twist upwards on one side and he slowly shifts in his seat. Jo might remember it from the bowling alley when they'd had some 'good, clean, fun' bowling with demons. Because what else is there to do in small towns?

His hand reaches slowly into his jacket, finding the grip of his pistol. "Got any rock salt?" He carefully slides off his chair and gives his jacket a tug. "Something isn't right..."

Jo Harvelle has posed:
"You should get out of here, lady..." Jo mutters to May and busies herself with her own ketchup bottle. She's nowhere near as practiced as Dean, or Sam ... leading a somewhat more sheltered childhood than the two Winchesters, and it's possible her construct isn't as ... solid.

"Don't need to hide them..." the blonde looks at Dean as she moves to make the second trap. Her footsteps falter as Mae appears and she moves to near the trap she just "painted". "My mama taught me it was rude to try to strangle people. Leavin' in the middle of the conversation doesn't even stack up to that."

She's going do something really, really stupid. Like Winchester stupid... she's going to try and bait Mae through her trap. Well she was ... until she finds her hurled across the room, over the trap and against the wall. "Is that the best you've got, you old hag?"

Winchester stupid, indeed.

Melinda May has posed:
The moment Dean goes on the alert, May does as well. She doesn’t know exactly yet what alerted him, but she knows it’s not her -- he’d have called her out already if he had had the intention of doing so. Unlike the Hunter, though, she doesn’t start carefully preparing for a fight. Instead, she takes a casual sip of water before getting up and approaching the waitress, asking her a seemingly innocent question before leading the woman toward the kitchen.

She shows the waitress her SHIELD badge as she ushers her through the doors, and they both disappear into the kitchen proper. A moment later, the short order cook’s noisy food preparations abruptly stop and leave the restaurant almost eerily quiet.

Dean Winchester has posed:
A nod follows Jo’s display of rock salt. “Get the window frames,” Dean instructs. Relief tinges his expression when he sees May chatting with the waitress, and hones in on basic strategy to deal with whatever has shown up to see them. He reaches for his own pouch of rock salt and salts the frame of the door.

He begins to move to the windows opposite Jo, spreading the salt once again along the frame’s base. His eyes train on the car as he does so. It’s empty. He blinks blankly and his head turns askance towards Jo. “We need paint,” it’s in the Impala. “We need a trap. And we gotta get that son of a--” the sound of shattered glass has his eyes narrowing, and his hands reaching for chalk in his pocket. It’s not his writing utensil of choice.

The sound comes from the bathroom, prompting a loud groan from the back of his throat as he tries to speed up.

Jo Harvelle has posed:
Jo watches as May ushers the waitress out, eyes narrowing at the badge that's displayed. She can't see it fully, but the response is enough. She opens her mouth to say something but snaps it shut again.

It doesn't take long to salt the windows but she looks at Dean with a frown at the mention of paint. She reaches for the Ketchup bottles and tosses one at the Hunter. "Improvise ..." It's a question as much as instruction.

The shattering glass has her looking as well "Sounds like we don't have much time ..."