action.
[Zelman's out in the gardens in the dead of night, lying in a weirdly dry patch of grass under a large tree. the grass looks dead, like it'd been dried up unnaturally. he's got his hands under his head, one leg propped up on his other knee, and a lit cigarette in his mouth.
every ten seconds or so, his eyes glow bright red and one of the leaves on the tree above him spontaneously bursts into flame, like a little firework. the sparks disappear with gravity, but nothing else catches. he's been at it for a while, one leaf at a time. call it practice--it's easy to create fire, but not so easy to control it.]
[[ooc: open, for people who might want to wander into him. |D it's also possible that one could see these small bursts of light from their window, since he's pretty close to the castle wall.]]
every ten seconds or so, his eyes glow bright red and one of the leaves on the tree above him spontaneously bursts into flame, like a little firework. the sparks disappear with gravity, but nothing else catches. he's been at it for a while, one leaf at a time. call it practice--it's easy to create fire, but not so easy to control it.]
[[ooc: open, for people who might want to wander into him. |D it's also possible that one could see these small bursts of light from their window, since he's pretty close to the castle wall.]]