#greymages

// ...Is this a community M!A?

HELL YEAH

Now that he managed to actually find some others, this was neat! Sure, he couldn’t talk well at all, truly by any means he really couldn’t form any sort of words like this, but that’s okay! Talking was overrated anyway! This was fun and that was all that mattered.

Well, that and these people in cow outfits. They mattered. They mattered a lot.

They really mattered a lot.

Having completed his rampage, Omen had gotten onto the phone with a carpenter in an attempt to resolve all of these damages caused by.... home invaders. The grey magic wafted into his nose, causing to reel back, setting the phone down so he could sneeze politely. “Ah..Ah... ah-CHOO-OOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH-”

The release had sent him flying through another wall in his home... then another. Then a window. The magic would skyrocket him through the air above where his victims lay, screaming in pain and vengeance as he passed.

A forest comes up ahead, where he believes he still sees the wounded Lunari, and a particularly pissed looking Darkin. Realizing what’s next, he reacts poorly.

“CURSE YOU, NATURE- GAH- SHIT- DAMN- YOU- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-” He shouts as he crashes through a sizable row of adjacent oak trees. His body suddenly dips down, sending him splatting into the lake below, collapsing all the way to the bottom. A moment of respite as he sees two bodies above. Surprised they haven’t gotten out yet, he’d not time to consider it as he fires into the distance once again.

Through a city, down a street, four lampposts, one cafe, and a cutlery store later, Omen smashes through Viktor’s roof, and into the laboratory, where he pauses a moment to flip off Mikhail before being sent through a completely different hole in Viktor’s roof. 

His return trip begins, this time only skipping his body atop the surface of the lake, like a pressure washer against his flesh. His body takes a sudden turn into a thornbush, crushing the entirety of it against him. A moment later, he floats up, flips over, and is sent crashing into the adjacent, slightly thornier brush. Now in a significant amount of discomfort, Omen attempts to blaspheme whatever God he can think of before shooting off once again.

At least the voyage was nearing its end, it seemed. A final trip home sends him through Keane’s room, the kitchen and up the stairs. There, gravity returns to him, and his body rolls along the floor at dangerous speeds into the washroom, where his head ends up squarely within the basin of the toilet.

Keane, having prepared for this moment, waits a few seconds for reality to come back to Omen. He then flushes, his one act of justice for the year.

Omen gurgles in pain and discontentment.

“Wait, no! NO THIS CAN’T BE!”

Leng Yun frantically searches the room he’s rented in the inn. His clothes should be here. His beautiful clothes! Where are they!? He can’t be seen in these obscene pieces of cloth! THIS IS HORRIBLE!

While this is a very creative and appreciated way to send away the anon, you can definitely hear a panicked, ear-shattering scream the moment the magic is applied.  

Ahri takes a step back, ears sitting at attention as the little mage cries out. 

“w-wait a minute! What ar-!”

She coughs as the magic fades, the pollen from her flowers falling in clouds now. Her skin goes pale and the normally vibrant purples and greens begin to fade to dull grays. The flowers atop her head wilt as she rubs her eyes.