Galen flew through the night above the streets of the middle-ring districts, illuminated with the soft orange glow of lanterns intermingled with the pure white light of electric street lamps.
Swooping down to land on the second-story deck of his own house, the radio behind his right shoulder glowed, followed by a short chatter between nearby police forces.
Apparently someone else had arrested the thief that Galen had failed to apprehend. He was sure that he wouldn't hear the end of it for a week or so.
Folding in his wings, he bent the metal plates off his uniform and mounted them on a nearby rack. His radio, belt, and cable reels followed shortly after.
Changing into soft long-sleeved clothing of a simple grey coloration, he went back to the upper deck barefoot, looking out into the night and the streets still barely alive with the activity of nighttime industry. Flying up to the barely-slanted rooftop, he opened his palms outward to produce a small cloud of embers which flowed into the night air around him. Despite his earthbending heritage, the embers he had conjured still posessed a fluid vibrancy. Maybe it was from his love of flight, maybe it was from an underlying creative nature, or maybe it related to his altered bending methods as a whole. Either way, the small, silent swarm of glowing orange lights was a truly noteworthy spectacle. He finished his short display within a few minutes, dispelling the embers into the night sky, where they paled in conparison with the blaze of silver light coming from the stars above. Ending with a sweeping blaze directed upwards into the darkness, Galen jumped back down to the second story, heading out for the night to look for a new restaurant worth visiting.
(This went well. I look forward to seeing how it progresses. Good night, and good luck. Thanks to all who participated.)
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