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Novels Ghost Banishing 240828
In the unsettling atmosphere of Arkwright Cemetery, surrounded by a sinister miasma and the sudden charge of demonic entities, a peculiar group finds themselves entangled in an uncanny battle. Novel, exuding an energetic and somewhat reckless demeanor, delights in the chaos, brandishing his knife with a wild glee against the shadowy assailants. Harriet, juxtaposed by her tentative and rational approach, resorts to her knowledge of salt as a purgative against the looming specters, while Jodie, initially resistant, succumbs to the moment's pressure, diving into a shared meth experience with Novel. Together, amidst reluctance and quick exchanges of frustration, they confront the immediate threat—their actions driven by a mix of desperation, substance-induced courage, and sheer survival instinct.
The encounter reaches its crescendo when a gigantic, smoke-formed spider attempts to ensnare Novel with its dark tendrils, underscoring the perilous reality of their situation. Harriet's pragmatic use of salt and her attempt to diffuse the tension with humor contrasts sharply with Jodie's blunt force approach and Novel's frenzied resistance. Their skirmish with the ghostly entities escalates until, with combined efforts and amidst the chaos of personal conflicts, the spectral adversaries are finally dispelled. The smoke clears, revealing a semblance of victory tinged with the acrid aftermath of their ordeal. Through a tableau of fear, camaraderie, and the bizarre solidarity of a shared confrontation, the group emerges scarred but successful, the cemetery quiet once again, save for the consequences of their unconventional methods lingering in the air.
(Novel's ghost banishing)
[Fri Aug 16 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is afternoon, about 83F(28C) degrees,
There is the sudden smell of brimstone that fills the area, and along with a rising, black mist: smoke, coiling along the surface of the graveyard. It seems to form strange whorls and shapes, and as they draw close to %n they begin to look more and more like creatures -- horned creatures, with red eyes full of menace.
Jodie gives Novel a snort as she eyes his baggie. She can only guess what it contains and says, "I'm clean..of that sort of thing." she just shakes her head after saying that then she sniffs the air, smelling the brimestone just moments before the black mist coil from the surfaces of the graveyard. "At least its not those pirate fuckers. Alright..this might get fucky. Do we have an arcanist?"
Upon being offered methamphetamines, Harriet is staring at Novel. Granted, she was already gazing at him due to the fact he whipped out some drug paraphernalia and then started using it right in front of both Jodie and her. It takes her a moment to find her voice after gathering her thoughts, but then she shakes her head at Novel, expressing, "No, thank you, I rather like having teeth," in a very honest tone, dripping with that reality. Looking to Jodie after, she says, "I throw salt at the things..." also quite honestly.
For a moment, the dark smoke is still around Novel ... but then a low, evil laughter begins to echo. It takes only a second to realize the laughter is echoing inside the heads of those who fight here, and with it comes a sudden urge to give into everyone's worst sin.
Jodie seems quiet and wary as the laughter makes her look about for a source. Without finding it she grunts softly and says, "Fuck it, if I have to put up with this.." she looks to Novel and says, "Give me some." with a hard eyed stare and just a hint of shame
Novel draws in a deep inhale of the smoldering pipe, his eyes figuratively flashing in vigor and dancing glee, and as opposed to choking, the brimstone and smoke only seems to invigorate and excite him further. A squaring of the shoulders, a broader grin, a man who still somehow has all his teeth, white and bright as if he's been gargling bleach, but yellowing around the bases. "Suit your fucking selves. I mean, and it looks like these things want to -party-." He says with unmitigated glee in his voice as he turns to the shadows around him. He laughs, merry and delighted and filled with dark glee. "Awesome, catch." He tosses the pipe - and a bag - underhanded to Jodie.
Novel whips out a knife straight from his pocket, and then immediately plunges his blade into a nearby smoke-cloud, a brief, horrible screech as his other hand comes in, a plunging fist as he delights in subsuming with WRATH`n upon the entities nearby.
Harriet lowers her eyelids in response to the laughter that floods her mind, and she struggles some, exercising her self control. She reaches blindly into her handbag to retrieve her trusty bag of Celtic sea salt. Idly, fingers open up the container and then she begins to create a circle with the grey granules about herself, trying to ignore all of the illegal drug use going on around her, and focusing on not giving in to her worst sin as Jodie does some meth, and Novel is doing... whatever he is doing while on meth.
Jodie catches the meth-heads pipe and the bag of meth. She looks conflicted when she has both but still, she prepares the pipe and produces her own zippo lighter with a snap of the lid to light it. She only takes one solid hit of it before coughing on the taste and feel of it. "Fucker." she hisses, breath temporarily hoarse. The messy haired, newly-minted crack-head just leaves the pipe on the top of the grave stone like it was some sort of offering. "What were we doing again?"
Out of the smoke charges an armed and armored warrior, spun out of black mist. He is dressed head to toe in archaic plate armor, wielding some huge, two-handed sword as black as his armor. With a roar, he rushes at Novel, swinging the sword in some attempt to cut off their head.
Jodie shakes her head to try and clear it and when she looks just in time to see the armed warrior try to decapitate Novel she says, "Fuck get down!" she doesn't actually try to help him beyond the warning. Why should she?
Harriet is definitely still trying to focus and not get distracted by the two meth heads, but her eyes open back up, revealing her hazel gaze and she akes in a slow, deep inhalation through her nostrils. This is performed just in time to see the warrior coming out of the smoke, and now her eyes widen. A handful of grains are taken up into a palm and then she's throwing the stuff at the specter, and a lot of it likely sprays over Novel's way.
Novel is a complete opposite to Harriet. He doesn't try to hold himself back. Instead, he revels in it, his body and face all in jittering action and his expression full of glee. To an outsider, though? It's just some guy tweaking out in the park. His head lunges forwards, briefly, snapping shut around some of the smoke that recoils from him, savage. And distracted until Jodie calls out, making his head jerk around, eyes suddenly focusing on the knight's charge, his knife raised. And then he's glittering with salt and he stops being soaked in by smoke, the stuff hammering against him like he was a rock at the beach, dousing his form. He steps up as if to block the blade - and then slips to one side. Jabbing his blade right into the knight's armpit, slipping to one side, going for vulnerable parts. "FUCKKING NICE!" He calls out to Harriet.
A trio of horned smoke-monsters advance out of the mist. They have twisted weapons formed of smoke, and they descend on Novel, howling in an incomrephensible, devilish tongue.
Jodie finally moves to help. When Novel faces a three on one situation, the messy haired woman steps in to throw a heavy punch at one. Her fist just phases right through the smoke creature, temporarily disrupting it without doing any real damage. "How do we fight these?!"
Harriet watches as this scene unfolds as if it were from some B-rated horror flick. She cannot look away, staring still at Novel who most definitely just looks like a tweaker to her, as well, not just to those who may be passing by to visit their loved ones' graves. The salt seems to be doing its duty, so she's tossing more over the man's way, letting it pitter and patter against his form, hoping it retains its supposed abilities to protect against ghosts and other strange horrors that come through the smoke. "Goodness," she breathes out, bu then she's calling out in her own devilish tongue, and the words are hissed, sounding like some sort of Mongol-Tuvan throat singing and a swarm of bees all at once in how it ends up being produced.
Harriet calls out at the monsters, "Go back to where you came from! You are not welcome here!"
"Just fucking get Stuckup over there to throw salt on you! Or focus! It's just like fucking entering the fucking nightmare except they're coming to -you- instead, so you don't have to push so hard!" Novel calls out to Jodie as he flashes another one of those madman grins over his shoulder to someone as he's showered in salt, leaving him glittering and shining in the sunshine in bright contrast to the dark smoke. And he roars as he lunges in, opting to drop the knife in favor of seizing the other two snakes in each hands, slamming them together with a CLAP of his hands as it dissipates into smoke.
"Just fucking get Stuckup over there to throw salt on you! Or focus! It's just like fucking entering the fucking nightmare except they're coming to -you- instead, so you don't have to push so hard!" Novel calls out to Jodie as he flashes another one of those madman grins over his shoulder to Harriet as he's showered in salt, leaving him glittering and shining in the sunshine in bright contrast to the dark smoke. And he roars as he lunges in, opting to drop the knife in favor of seizing the other two snakes in each hands, slamming them together with a CLAP of his hands as it dissipates into smoke.
A trio of horned smoke-monsters advance out of the mist. They have twisted weapons formed of smoke, and they descend on Novel, howling in an incomrephensible, devilish tongue.
Not at all magical, although some people might disagree, Harriet has no idea how to do any type of arcane related things. She does know how to toss salt about, though, and since the meth head is excited about the fact that she is showering him in the crystalline substance that differs a great deal from the kind he was smoking minutes earlier, she continues to perform that task repeatedly. She glances over at Jodie to see what the other woman is doing, just now processing the fact that she is the one being called 'Stuckup' and her lips purse as a, "Hmm," gets hummed out past soft lips.
Jodie shakes her hands out like she was trying to dry them from being wet, her pupils are dilated and she's constantly looking around for threats. Basically she's tweaking out quite a bit. "Do something useful for once you orderite bitch." she snaps at Harriet, unreasonably so
As the dark mists roil in the cemetery, Novel and everyone with them are struck with a sudden fear. It's cold and awful, sinking into their heart to make the world seem impossible and alone.
Novel in stark contrast to the distance and sternness of the other two seems to be having the time of his -life-, as if he was the birthday boy and everyone was throwing him a party. Smoke monsters lunging from on high, two on the sides. He shows off those reflexes by waiting another heartbeat before lunging forwards and under them, swinging with arm in raw brutality, sending salt scattering and it causing the smoke to hiss and sputter and the salt to ignite, filling the area with further acrid smell. Beyond the scent of burnt meth. As he scoops his arm in a hard elbow sweep, slamming the whole cloud together until it piles up and disperses again. He laughs - and then, suddenly, he stops, his teeth clenching and his nails digging into his own hands. Drawing blood. His shoulders shaking. "Ffffffffuuck!" He calls out. "FUCK YOU. THERE'S AT LEAST TWO OTHER PEOPLE HERE YOU CUNT," he rails against the ghost, or, perhaps, the world at large.
"Why would I start now?" Harriet asks Jodie, trying to look entirely serious as she does not take the Moore's words that seriously, as she literally just witnessed the trailer park lady just abuse a powerful stimulant. "If there was a kitten stuck up in a tree, or an old lady in need of me to knit her a sweater and some matching mittens, I would be perfectly able to assist," she jokes, but still sounds very earnest despite that fact. "Or making heart bracelets for charity -- cannot forget that one." She looks back to Novel, ensuring he's not dying -- not due to the mist monsters, but because of the various health adversities that can occur from using meth. As she suddenly becomes filled with fear, she glances around the area as if wondering if she's somehow gotten second hand meth in her system, feeling and looking very anxious and suspicious, twiching a little.
Jodie looks irritated when Harriet doesn't take her serious and she clenches up a fist like she might just cross the few feet and clock Harriet. Fortunately she manages to stop those instincts and just shake her head again. "I'm just as useless here. I don't know why I come."
There is a look above -- and then, from an overarching tree, Novel and their companions can see a black spider made of infernal smoke. It's huge, with a bloated belly, and then spun spider strands of black mist descend to wrap Novel into some awful cocoon.
Harriet grabs a handful of salt and throws it righ at Jodie, so that she, too, can sparkle. "There you go," she manages, nodding to her as if to say she's done a very good job, indeed. "You come and you swallow," gets mentioned, as if she's thought a lot about this, nodding even further. "Lucky girl."
Novel stares at the two of them bickering and irritating, raising his hands and raging at the two, "FUCKING STOP FUCKING ARGUING YOU TWO DUMB BITCHES AND COME HELP ME WITH MPHMHPMHPHMPH," whatever else the permanently angry man was about to say is completely silenced as he was distracted from turning around to yell at Harriet and Jodie as he flails in a sudden, appearing cocoon, already wrapped around the top half of his body as he kicks around with his arms up in furious wiggling while the massive fuck-off spider tries to spin him up drag him off.
Jodie scowls at Harriet and balls up her fist again, this time she steps two paces to Harriet to make good on her desire to get into a fight but just before she gets there she catches sight of the shadow spider when it comes down to try and capture Novel. She utters, "Fucker." then decides to help her fellow meth-buddy by rushing over to start ripping at smoke-webs with her hands.
Harriet was getting ready to punch Jodie right back, but the sudden cocoon saves the ladies from a fist fight, and she's rushing over to assist Novel as well.
Novel ends up kicking Jodie once by accident before he manages to get his legs hooked right around the grave and cling for dear life as threads of phantom silk are torn off, thrown to the ground, his bity and chompy and struggling arms pushing back to help from the inside out as there's a sudden -scrhiiip- noise and the man is freed, thudding right into the grass and sputtering, coughing, spitting out a wad of smoke-spider-web before taking in deep breaths with dilated eyes and flushed bright red as he sprawls there on the grass.
The smell of smoke seems to peak, and then, with a rush of magical power, it's gone. The smoke monsters in the cemetery disappear, banished -- fading away as wisps of mist in the air around $n.
The encounter reaches its crescendo when a gigantic, smoke-formed spider attempts to ensnare Novel with its dark tendrils, underscoring the perilous reality of their situation. Harriet's pragmatic use of salt and her attempt to diffuse the tension with humor contrasts sharply with Jodie's blunt force approach and Novel's frenzied resistance. Their skirmish with the ghostly entities escalates until, with combined efforts and amidst the chaos of personal conflicts, the spectral adversaries are finally dispelled. The smoke clears, revealing a semblance of victory tinged with the acrid aftermath of their ordeal. Through a tableau of fear, camaraderie, and the bizarre solidarity of a shared confrontation, the group emerges scarred but successful, the cemetery quiet once again, save for the consequences of their unconventional methods lingering in the air.
(Novel's ghost banishing)
[Fri Aug 16 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is afternoon, about 83F(28C) degrees,
There is the sudden smell of brimstone that fills the area, and along with a rising, black mist: smoke, coiling along the surface of the graveyard. It seems to form strange whorls and shapes, and as they draw close to %n they begin to look more and more like creatures -- horned creatures, with red eyes full of menace.
Jodie gives Novel a snort as she eyes his baggie. She can only guess what it contains and says, "I'm clean..of that sort of thing." she just shakes her head after saying that then she sniffs the air, smelling the brimestone just moments before the black mist coil from the surfaces of the graveyard. "At least its not those pirate fuckers. Alright..this might get fucky. Do we have an arcanist?"
Upon being offered methamphetamines, Harriet is staring at Novel. Granted, she was already gazing at him due to the fact he whipped out some drug paraphernalia and then started using it right in front of both Jodie and her. It takes her a moment to find her voice after gathering her thoughts, but then she shakes her head at Novel, expressing, "No, thank you, I rather like having teeth," in a very honest tone, dripping with that reality. Looking to Jodie after, she says, "I throw salt at the things..." also quite honestly.
For a moment, the dark smoke is still around Novel ... but then a low, evil laughter begins to echo. It takes only a second to realize the laughter is echoing inside the heads of those who fight here, and with it comes a sudden urge to give into everyone's worst sin.
Jodie seems quiet and wary as the laughter makes her look about for a source. Without finding it she grunts softly and says, "Fuck it, if I have to put up with this.." she looks to Novel and says, "Give me some." with a hard eyed stare and just a hint of shame
Novel draws in a deep inhale of the smoldering pipe, his eyes figuratively flashing in vigor and dancing glee, and as opposed to choking, the brimstone and smoke only seems to invigorate and excite him further. A squaring of the shoulders, a broader grin, a man who still somehow has all his teeth, white and bright as if he's been gargling bleach, but yellowing around the bases. "Suit your fucking selves. I mean, and it looks like these things want to -party-." He says with unmitigated glee in his voice as he turns to the shadows around him. He laughs, merry and delighted and filled with dark glee. "Awesome, catch." He tosses the pipe - and a bag - underhanded to Jodie.
Novel whips out a knife straight from his pocket, and then immediately plunges his blade into a nearby smoke-cloud, a brief, horrible screech as his other hand comes in, a plunging fist as he delights in subsuming with WRATH`n upon the entities nearby.
Harriet lowers her eyelids in response to the laughter that floods her mind, and she struggles some, exercising her self control. She reaches blindly into her handbag to retrieve her trusty bag of Celtic sea salt. Idly, fingers open up the container and then she begins to create a circle with the grey granules about herself, trying to ignore all of the illegal drug use going on around her, and focusing on not giving in to her worst sin as Jodie does some meth, and Novel is doing... whatever he is doing while on meth.
Jodie catches the meth-heads pipe and the bag of meth. She looks conflicted when she has both but still, she prepares the pipe and produces her own zippo lighter with a snap of the lid to light it. She only takes one solid hit of it before coughing on the taste and feel of it. "Fucker." she hisses, breath temporarily hoarse. The messy haired, newly-minted crack-head just leaves the pipe on the top of the grave stone like it was some sort of offering. "What were we doing again?"
Out of the smoke charges an armed and armored warrior, spun out of black mist. He is dressed head to toe in archaic plate armor, wielding some huge, two-handed sword as black as his armor. With a roar, he rushes at Novel, swinging the sword in some attempt to cut off their head.
Jodie shakes her head to try and clear it and when she looks just in time to see the armed warrior try to decapitate Novel she says, "Fuck get down!" she doesn't actually try to help him beyond the warning. Why should she?
Harriet is definitely still trying to focus and not get distracted by the two meth heads, but her eyes open back up, revealing her hazel gaze and she akes in a slow, deep inhalation through her nostrils. This is performed just in time to see the warrior coming out of the smoke, and now her eyes widen. A handful of grains are taken up into a palm and then she's throwing the stuff at the specter, and a lot of it likely sprays over Novel's way.
Novel is a complete opposite to Harriet. He doesn't try to hold himself back. Instead, he revels in it, his body and face all in jittering action and his expression full of glee. To an outsider, though? It's just some guy tweaking out in the park. His head lunges forwards, briefly, snapping shut around some of the smoke that recoils from him, savage. And distracted until Jodie calls out, making his head jerk around, eyes suddenly focusing on the knight's charge, his knife raised. And then he's glittering with salt and he stops being soaked in by smoke, the stuff hammering against him like he was a rock at the beach, dousing his form. He steps up as if to block the blade - and then slips to one side. Jabbing his blade right into the knight's armpit, slipping to one side, going for vulnerable parts. "FUCKKING NICE!" He calls out to Harriet.
A trio of horned smoke-monsters advance out of the mist. They have twisted weapons formed of smoke, and they descend on Novel, howling in an incomrephensible, devilish tongue.
Jodie finally moves to help. When Novel faces a three on one situation, the messy haired woman steps in to throw a heavy punch at one. Her fist just phases right through the smoke creature, temporarily disrupting it without doing any real damage. "How do we fight these?!"
Harriet watches as this scene unfolds as if it were from some B-rated horror flick. She cannot look away, staring still at Novel who most definitely just looks like a tweaker to her, as well, not just to those who may be passing by to visit their loved ones' graves. The salt seems to be doing its duty, so she's tossing more over the man's way, letting it pitter and patter against his form, hoping it retains its supposed abilities to protect against ghosts and other strange horrors that come through the smoke. "Goodness," she breathes out, bu then she's calling out in her own devilish tongue, and the words are hissed, sounding like some sort of Mongol-Tuvan throat singing and a swarm of bees all at once in how it ends up being produced.
Harriet calls out at the monsters, "Go back to where you came from! You are not welcome here!"
"Just fucking get Stuckup over there to throw salt on you! Or focus! It's just like fucking entering the fucking nightmare except they're coming to -you- instead, so you don't have to push so hard!" Novel calls out to Jodie as he flashes another one of those madman grins over his shoulder to someone as he's showered in salt, leaving him glittering and shining in the sunshine in bright contrast to the dark smoke. And he roars as he lunges in, opting to drop the knife in favor of seizing the other two snakes in each hands, slamming them together with a CLAP of his hands as it dissipates into smoke.
"Just fucking get Stuckup over there to throw salt on you! Or focus! It's just like fucking entering the fucking nightmare except they're coming to -you- instead, so you don't have to push so hard!" Novel calls out to Jodie as he flashes another one of those madman grins over his shoulder to Harriet as he's showered in salt, leaving him glittering and shining in the sunshine in bright contrast to the dark smoke. And he roars as he lunges in, opting to drop the knife in favor of seizing the other two snakes in each hands, slamming them together with a CLAP of his hands as it dissipates into smoke.
A trio of horned smoke-monsters advance out of the mist. They have twisted weapons formed of smoke, and they descend on Novel, howling in an incomrephensible, devilish tongue.
Not at all magical, although some people might disagree, Harriet has no idea how to do any type of arcane related things. She does know how to toss salt about, though, and since the meth head is excited about the fact that she is showering him in the crystalline substance that differs a great deal from the kind he was smoking minutes earlier, she continues to perform that task repeatedly. She glances over at Jodie to see what the other woman is doing, just now processing the fact that she is the one being called 'Stuckup' and her lips purse as a, "Hmm," gets hummed out past soft lips.
Jodie shakes her hands out like she was trying to dry them from being wet, her pupils are dilated and she's constantly looking around for threats. Basically she's tweaking out quite a bit. "Do something useful for once you orderite bitch." she snaps at Harriet, unreasonably so
As the dark mists roil in the cemetery, Novel and everyone with them are struck with a sudden fear. It's cold and awful, sinking into their heart to make the world seem impossible and alone.
Novel in stark contrast to the distance and sternness of the other two seems to be having the time of his -life-, as if he was the birthday boy and everyone was throwing him a party. Smoke monsters lunging from on high, two on the sides. He shows off those reflexes by waiting another heartbeat before lunging forwards and under them, swinging with arm in raw brutality, sending salt scattering and it causing the smoke to hiss and sputter and the salt to ignite, filling the area with further acrid smell. Beyond the scent of burnt meth. As he scoops his arm in a hard elbow sweep, slamming the whole cloud together until it piles up and disperses again. He laughs - and then, suddenly, he stops, his teeth clenching and his nails digging into his own hands. Drawing blood. His shoulders shaking. "Ffffffffuuck!" He calls out. "FUCK YOU. THERE'S AT LEAST TWO OTHER PEOPLE HERE YOU CUNT," he rails against the ghost, or, perhaps, the world at large.
"Why would I start now?" Harriet asks Jodie, trying to look entirely serious as she does not take the Moore's words that seriously, as she literally just witnessed the trailer park lady just abuse a powerful stimulant. "If there was a kitten stuck up in a tree, or an old lady in need of me to knit her a sweater and some matching mittens, I would be perfectly able to assist," she jokes, but still sounds very earnest despite that fact. "Or making heart bracelets for charity -- cannot forget that one." She looks back to Novel, ensuring he's not dying -- not due to the mist monsters, but because of the various health adversities that can occur from using meth. As she suddenly becomes filled with fear, she glances around the area as if wondering if she's somehow gotten second hand meth in her system, feeling and looking very anxious and suspicious, twiching a little.
Jodie looks irritated when Harriet doesn't take her serious and she clenches up a fist like she might just cross the few feet and clock Harriet. Fortunately she manages to stop those instincts and just shake her head again. "I'm just as useless here. I don't know why I come."
There is a look above -- and then, from an overarching tree, Novel and their companions can see a black spider made of infernal smoke. It's huge, with a bloated belly, and then spun spider strands of black mist descend to wrap Novel into some awful cocoon.
Harriet grabs a handful of salt and throws it righ at Jodie, so that she, too, can sparkle. "There you go," she manages, nodding to her as if to say she's done a very good job, indeed. "You come and you swallow," gets mentioned, as if she's thought a lot about this, nodding even further. "Lucky girl."
Novel stares at the two of them bickering and irritating, raising his hands and raging at the two, "FUCKING STOP FUCKING ARGUING YOU TWO DUMB BITCHES AND COME HELP ME WITH MPHMHPMHPHMPH," whatever else the permanently angry man was about to say is completely silenced as he was distracted from turning around to yell at Harriet and Jodie as he flails in a sudden, appearing cocoon, already wrapped around the top half of his body as he kicks around with his arms up in furious wiggling while the massive fuck-off spider tries to spin him up drag him off.
Jodie scowls at Harriet and balls up her fist again, this time she steps two paces to Harriet to make good on her desire to get into a fight but just before she gets there she catches sight of the shadow spider when it comes down to try and capture Novel. She utters, "Fucker." then decides to help her fellow meth-buddy by rushing over to start ripping at smoke-webs with her hands.
Harriet was getting ready to punch Jodie right back, but the sudden cocoon saves the ladies from a fist fight, and she's rushing over to assist Novel as well.
Novel ends up kicking Jodie once by accident before he manages to get his legs hooked right around the grave and cling for dear life as threads of phantom silk are torn off, thrown to the ground, his bity and chompy and struggling arms pushing back to help from the inside out as there's a sudden -scrhiiip- noise and the man is freed, thudding right into the grass and sputtering, coughing, spitting out a wad of smoke-spider-web before taking in deep breaths with dilated eyes and flushed bright red as he sprawls there on the grass.
The smell of smoke seems to peak, and then, with a rush of magical power, it's gone. The smoke monsters in the cemetery disappear, banished -- fading away as wisps of mist in the air around $n.