[Crack Plot] Attack of the Vampire Melons!!!

[gardenwarlock]

A hot night in July, the kind of night when the air hangs heavy and still, not a breath of air to stir the leaves of the trees, or the curtains of windows left open in the Mansion, to let in what fresh air there might be. A full moon shines through the treetops, silvering the drowsy land and trees, painting every leaf in blue-white light

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[surfaceshine]

Okay, so, it's not like insomnia or drinking are new things to Dean; in point of fact, they've been his close companions for quite some time now, and he was well associated with them even before that. For the most part, he doesn't seem to have a problem with either of them, unless Sam is nagging him; it's kind of just how life is

[surfaceshine]

Dean probably is touched in the head, and probably more than a bit. He's not telling, though, and he's not particularly traumatized by being molested by unusually frisky gourds. But that's neither here nor there - he's used to that particular look from other people, too.

The hunter nods agreeably to this, though he's not entirely able to imagine what kind of gardening could be troublesome enough to annoy people; until he glances out onto the lawn, anyway, and is reminded by yet more rolling shadows. He clears his throat. "Yeah, uh - I can see how that'd put a dent in the planting day."

[gardenwarlock]

"This did more than put a dent in my planting: it destroyed my crop of melons," he grumbles. "But I suppose there may be time enough this summer to plant more."

[surfaceshine]

"Pretty sure that was you, actually," the hunter jokes back; destroying the crop of melons, that is. Dean watched him chase a melon down with a gardening hoe, after all. He wrinkles his nose.

"You really wanna give melons another go? After this?"

[gardenwarlock]

"Perhaps not, unless I can find who cast this spell and find a means to counter their magic," he replies.

[surfaceshine]

"...seems pretty specific to me. The spell, I mean. Doesn't seem like a make or break thing. You weren't counting on those melons or starving, right?" Dean is not taking this case very seriously just now, but the routine paths are still there for him to follow whenever the urge takes him.

[gardenwarlock]

"No, there is other stock, and if need be, I can find what food I need in the kitchen," he says. "The melons were meant more to add variety to the stock in my garden. I can plant other things: there is still time left in the season."

[surfaceshine]

"Are they particularly easy to.. you know. Encourage?" ...Dean never quite saw himself trying to get into a watermelon's head, but again, the paths are the same. And he's talking to someone who claims he would know, so might as well.

[gardenwarlock]

"I have always been able to coax plants to grow lush and strong, even before I came into my power and I could cause them to grow rapidly," he says. "Melons are no harder to awaken than any other plant about its size."

[surfaceshine]

"So random targetting it is, then. I got nothin'," pronounces Dean, not particularly bothered by this. After all, if bewitching melons is the best whoever it is has, the hunter is pretty alright with them carrying on to their heart's content.

[gardenwarlock]

He shrugs one broad shoulder. "The simplest answer is likely the closest to the truth," he replies. "It seems we have nothing more to fear than a few lost hours of sleep."

[surfaceshine]

"And that ain't exactly a villainous prospect," replies Dean, glancing for where he left his drink on the top step. Stretching for it, he raises it in toast to Klingsor. "I shouldn't keep you. You got a lotta choppin' to do."

[gardenwarlock]

"A good deal of chopping and no chance for sleep, not after so wild a night," he says, swinging the hoe over his shoulder. "Rest well while you can, Master Winchester." And with that he sets off, limping down the slope.

[surfaceshine]

He'd offer to help, but melons are not so menacing, especially if they're apparently going to go lifeless at dawn. And his leg hurts, so he'd rather just sit on his ass and drink until he can get some sleep. He tips the bottle again at the farewell before uncapping it.

"Have fun, Worf," he returns, cheerfully.

Thank you both!