Lee Jordan (l_double_e) wrote in plagued_logs, @ 2016-09-28 19:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | 1999 october, angelina johnson, laura madley, lee jordan |
Who: Lee Jordan, NPC Attackers and OPEN
What: Lee Jordan has pissed off some people.
Where: An Alley between the WWN and his flat a few blocks away.
When: Late Wednesday Night
Lee had honestly been trying to make it home before sunset, but sometimes, he’d be in his office writing up talking points for his show the next day, or looking up cases and articles that would support his assertions, that he lost track of time. He’d spent another good section of time talking about rights of Being classified creatures--- Vampires, Veela’s and Werewolves, and how some were acceptable (Veela’s) and yet others weren’t when they could be equally as dangerous. It wasn’t to prove that one was better than the other, just to highlight a double standard in society. He thought it had gone rather well all things considered.
Still, there was a bit of a surge in owls during his show, of people who vehemently hated werewolves for this or for that, and honestly, Lee had gotten quite used to it and had used their anger and their ignorance against them. He was rather proud of it, actually. Sure, he’d lost some listeners, but he’d rather be poor than to hide how he felt, especially on issues that hit so close to home. He couldn’t help but think of Angelina most of the time.
The walk home was always a quick on, and one he’d traveled well. He’d made it a habit not to apparate in and out of places when he could easily walk, too much reliance on magic made you a bit off kilter, he’d come to realize when he’d been stuck with others who’d suffered the squib virus. He grew up with a muggle mum, he knew how to do things without magic and he was rather proud of his heritage. But, hadn’t quite realized how open that left him for attacks, when he took the same alleyway short cut home every night. This wasn’t a war after all, so why should he be paranoid?
The first flash of light, aimed at him from behind, was a disarming spell that soared his wand away from him, and the next--- whatever it was--- it hit him like a ton of bricks over the back of the head. It was hard to follow, what was happening, there were spells and blows coming at him from all angles. He could make out at least three people, who were dark hoods. Two armed with wands, and one with a beaters bat (presumably the thing that had hit him over the head). He tried to accio his wand, but it was intercepted, and the tallest man, stepped on it, cracking it in half. Lee tried to fight back, but he was outnumbered and outgunned.
“Fucking wolf lover.” One of them spit, a fat slob with a womans voice, a wand in chubby manicured fingers. The one with the beaters bat slammed it down onto his ribs and Lee lost all the breath that had been in his lungs. It hurt and he let out a yelp of pain.
“Thasright, howl for your wolfy friends. Maybe they’ll make a quick meal out of you so you’re death will be painless.” There was another hex, and it seemed to slice at him, marking a large sweeping W across his chest. It hurt, and the blood was hot---too hot it felt like. He could hear them snicker, and the echos of their feet as they walked away.
All Lee could do was scream for help, which seemed to make them laugh louder.