GROUP ATTACK THREAD

[STAFF ACCOUNT]

There is no posting order. Please do not make your posts longer than four hundred and fifty words so as not make a novel out of this thread and to keep it going.

This is the thread where you can participate in the group attack thread. See the information thread above this one to find out all the details.

Have fun (:

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[lancelot conall callaghan]

And then they were there.

A blurred shape flew past him, the velocity of movement forcing him aside a little and causing him to steady himself against the lamppost by which he was standing. Puzzlement etched itself across his features, was it all part of the festivities? Hallowe’en certainly had taken on a darker meaning in the past couple of years as supporters of the dark side amassed in numbers (even if they were mostly still underground), but this – this couldn’t be happening, could it? Werewolves. No, they couldn’t be real Werewolves.

Lance’s mind started to race, his pulse starting to soar as the panic began to set in. He could hear the screams around him as the first few people began to realize exactly what was menacing the small town – realization dawning as it had on the Flying professor that this was not part of the show, as the performers looked just as surprised by the appearance as everyone else did and seemed to be attempting to make a hasty retreat themselves. But not fast enough, one of the pack bounding up onto the stage, careening through a large display of carved pumpkins, and swiping at the drummer of the goblin band accompanying the dancing (the fortunate being however apparating away before the blow was landed; as were many of the other adults who had been in the crowd).

And then the proper panic set in in his mind. On instinct he had drawn his wand, but he was as yet unsure how to act, frozen amongst the writhing sea of people scurrying in every direction. A dilemma had arisen. On the one hand, he was a professor, a responsible adult amongst a crowd that consisted in the vast majority of students – he should be looking after them, taking charge. On the other, Werewolves were a very sensitive subject for him – his mind cast back to the incident a little over a year ago that had thrown him into such terrible shape and driven him into hiding for so long. He didn’t want to be afraid of the creatures, but it was habitual and ingrained within him; rooting him to the spot and in no way driving him to one choice or the other, Lance becoming a statue and casual observer of the scene as it played out before him.

[` laila annette queen]

They were dancing to the music now that they were much closer to the band. Well, Laila was dancing. If you could call it that. She jerked her body this way and that to some off beat rhythm. It was hard to be glamorous when you encased in a rather large pumpkin suit. From the corner of her eyes she saw a dark flash move through the crowd but she thought nothing of it. Theatrics from the carnival. It couldn't be more than that. But then the music stopped and the screams erupted. Laila stopped her jig, for that was more what she was doing, and focused her eyes. A wolf had jumped on a woman at the front of the crowd and it was hacking into her with its claws and teeth. Her eyes widened but her feet were rooted to the ground. Did she run? Did she scream? Should she stay and fight? Laila was not brave by any means and deemed it only foolish to run forwards to save the women. If anyone had a chance of saving her it was not the small little hufflepuff dressed as a pumpkin. Around her everyone was screaming and running. There were spells being shot in every direction, yet Laila couldn't move. She couldn't find it within her to move away from the spot where she was. She slowly moved her gaze and noticed beside her that Lancelot too was somewhat statue like. "Professor," her voice was soft and she doubted he could hear her, "Professor!" Her voice was louder this time. "Professor don't you think we should, uh, do something? Run? Fight? Hide?" She still couldn't find it within her to move. What was wrong with her? And why wasn't Callaghan moving either?

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[lancelot conall callaghan]

"Professor!" The voice sounded ethereal, not connected to this world, only being sensed somewhere in the back of his mind and something that could be ignored as he continued to passively watch the violence that was playing out before him. “Professor!” The voice held more urgency this time, his brain beginning to filter that this was a plead, someone was asking for his help. He looked around for the source, his eyes focusing on Laila as he were just awakening from a deep sleep – it all seemed in slow motion at that moment, puzzlement lingering about his features. Why was she dressed as a pumpkin? Maybe he was asleep, maybe this was all just some nightmare that his subconscious mind had dreamt up after one too many drinks in the pub.

Time seemed to catch up to him as a piercing scream went up, bringing him around just in time for the Hufflepuff’s actual question. He blinked at her owlishly still however, his mind still unmade-up on the correct course of action to take. He needed to think this through step by step. Firstly, there was Laila to deal with – obviously scared – whom he had to calm down, to keep safe. His breathing was faster than he would have liked, chest rising and falling as if he had just been for a run, which probably wouldn’t help to instil a feeling of safety in the girl. “If you think you can handle it, then you stay.” he replied, keeping his voice as level as possible. That wasn’t a very responsible thing to say. he chided himself, but he had no idea of the skill levels of the students particularly (and he couldn’t remember how advanced he was in his final couple of years at the school). “But if you need to run, I’ve got your back.” He guessed that there was no point in telling her to go and get help, most of the Professors would have been down here already, and if not someone would make it back to the castle and alert them regardless.

He turned to examine the scene, his feet somehow lightened of their leaden feeling. People were strewn about the ground now, at least 10 casualties of the, he tried to quickly count, 5 or 6 wolves. He shot a spell off quickly at one of the Weres chasing after a group of students, who were no more than 15 (but clearly thought they could handle themselves). “Petrificus totalus!” The Werewolf freezing mid-bound and falling to the ground, the oblivious students continuing to run. Luck. Lance thought to himself, turning to see the repercussions as 2 sets of golden eyes turned his and Laila’s way.

[` laila annette queen]

Laila had never been faced with something so serious in her life. She'd heard about werewolf attacks happening before but she'd never once been involved in one. She didn't even know anyone who had been involved in one, at least she didn't think she did. It had never even occurred to Laila to think about what one might do when faced in a situation like this. Surely all her classes were preparing her for moments like this and a thought came to her head. She quickly fumbled for wand, she would need it. Pulling it out from a slight pocket in her costume, her shaking arm held it up. Her eyes followed the scene like her Professor's and she was amazed at how many people thought they could take on the creatures. She vaguely remembered learning about them in her Defense Against the Dark Arts class but Laila was not someone who paid much attention in class. She remembered little and it was moments like this that made her wish she wasn't so easily distracted when it came to class. "Stupefy!" she pointed her wand at one of the werewolves advancing on an elderly woman but the animal was moving too fast and Laila's aim wasn't the best. She tried once more but hit a goblin instead. Oops. "I-I-" Laila didn't know how to respond. She didn't know whether to run or stay in fight. So far she was not in any immediate danger but any moment now a werewolf could turn on her or a stray spell might hit her.

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[swaiva valerie hamilton]

She was quite alone. Leaning against the weathered olf wall of The Three Broomsticks. It's wooden sign creaked over-head and the sweet smell of butter beer drifted out of the open door. She could hear the chatter of happy, excited people coming from inside, and everywhere else around her. This was the only opening in the huge crowd she could find. She had become exeedingly tired of idiots wolf-whistling at her. She had taken the liberty of putting something on her Halowe'en. Everything black. The micro mini, fish nets, knee highs, a tank top that had been too small for years, revealing her navel and to top it off her hair was aranged into elaboratelt curled pig tails sitting squarely on the sides her her head. She sighed. That was a stupid idea, she glared at another guy walking past, obviously drunk. He shrivelled under her stare and walked away quickly.

That was when the screaming started, people Disapparating everywhere, younger kids running around yelling and crying. Whoa. She really did miss everything didn't she? She supposed she better go find out what was causing all the panic. She strolled gracefully into the crowd. She suddenly saw a huge dark shape lurking towards the edge of the screaming people. She knew imediately, werewolves. A small surge of excitment and fear run through her body. Aah, finally something worth doing. She slipped her wand out of her purse and aimed at the shape.

She ran through all the spells in her mind, wondering about using Petrificus Totalus or maybe Stupefy. She shook her head and a smile crept onto her lips. She chuckled. "Crucio!" A green jet of light erupted from the end of her wand. It hit the creature, it seemed to be stunned. Swaiva frowned. She was good at this curse, why wasn't it working. But she was quite reasured when it fell to the ground writhing in agony. She was contented watching it howl in pain. So contentented in fact that she didn't realize another werewolf until it came up behind her. She wheeled around, it was ready to pounce. "Oh shit", she whispered.

[lancelot conall callaghan]

Now they had been joined by several scared Second years, tears streaming down the faces of a couple of the group of 5 and whimpers of fear from the rest. This was not an ideal situation to be in. Lance was acting on sheer adrenaline; he could feel his heartbeat in his throat with every thick swallow of too much saliva and was all too aware that his face betrayed the fear that was conjured up by the presence of the creatures.

“We’re too exposed...” his words were addressed to Laila, hoping that a bit of confidence from both of them might instil a little within the younger students, “How about we make for somewhere with good locks...” And a back door if things go wrong... he added mentally, feeling that the comment wouldn’t be particularly helpful. “Whaddyah think about headin’ t’wards the Three Broomsticks?” It wasn’t particularly a question in need of an answer, he asked more out of politeness than for want of input – he would have liked to think that his mind was a little clearer than that of a teenager in this scenario (although the reality of this was debateable).

He began to move, his steps slow and measured as he kept his gaze locked with one of the wolves’ across the main square. “Easy, easy...” he breathed, commanding himself as well as the youngsters that were huddled behind him – a couple with wands drawn but looking like using them was the last thing on their minds.

He heard a more shrill voice somewhere in the direction that he was headed utter an Unforgivable curse. His muscles tightened some then, was there worse about the streets than simply the Werewolves (whilst they were bad they had to catch you before any damage could be done, with spells good aim was all that was needed to take someone out from remote positioning). He flickered his gaze down the road to where the call had come from, eyes meeting only a student (or who he presumed to be a student from their attire) squaring herself up against another of the creatures. He shot a spell off at the Werewolf, hoping simply to distract it long enough that the girl might make some kind of move – he hadn’t a hope of hitting it from the awkward angle he was at and the fact that the girl was between himself and his target.

[christina marie wood]

Mere moments before, Christina had been lounging in a booth in the Three Broomsticks by herself, nursing a bottle of butterbeer and staring into its amber depths as if the stuff would reveal the answer to life. So of course things had to be ruined, right when she was getting nice and comfortable. It was when the werewolves had come down the street at high speeds that things turned for the worse. The bottle of butterbeer went crashing onto the floor, its golden contents spreading on the tile. Christina had leapt to her feet. Her wand was out in a second even as herds of students ran for the door.

“Hey!” she yelled above the ruckus, “Stay inside! Do you want to be attacked by werewolves?” Most retreated from the doorway to linger within the building, shifting uneasily. Christina strode to the front, her wand pointing at the door. Something large slammed against it. It was too late to put up an Imperturbable Charm, then. Students were in groups. Some looked ready to bolt while others already had their wands out.

Christina held her breath and began to count underneath her breath. Possibly seven seconds. Just as she reached one, the door flew open, knocked nearly off its hinges. A large, gray furry form burst into the room. An older student standing next to Christina pointed his wand and roared, “Impedimenta!” The werewolf stumbled, slowed by the jinx. While the animal was still moving forward, Christina’s voice rose above the din, a jet of red light flying from her wand to collide with the werewolf. “Stupefy!” It keeled over, eyes glazed. Christina sucked in a deep breath. The unconscious werewolf was left outside.

The door was repaired, but that did not change the fact that this was a bad situation. A wand lifted and an Unbreakable Charm was placed upon the door.

“Watch the windows, everyone.” Someone was taking charge. Christina couldn’t tell who. She moved over to one of the windows next to the entrance, peering down the street. Panic was everywhere. She glanced down the other direction. There – Lance, the flying instructor, carting along several others, stopped to help a girl who was about to be jumped.

The door was unlocked and the Unbreakable Charm taken off. Christina burst into the street, her wand level and pointing right at the werewolf. A curse flew from her wand, hitting the werewolf, as it was distracted by Lance. Its legs locked together and it toppled over. She waved at Lance, trying to get his attention.

“Come on, Callaghan! Get the students in here!”

Christina glanced around for another werewolf attack. She hoped none would show up.