Quen was lucky she was a girl, and blind, but mostly lucky she was a girl. He swore she had some spell to see sometimes, because he as half covered in seeds before he'd finished eating. Like with most seeds, he secreted a few into one of his pouches. There was a spot behind the tower where he kept 'planting' various plants by pouring the seeds into the ground.
Right now there was a bunch of stuff growing that he didn't know if they were weeds or food. Inevitably, someone would come along and chop them down. He had it in his mind to try a park at some point. There was only so much gil to go around.
He turned to one of the stone walls of the alley and stuck a couple dozen seeds into his mouth. Getting into the right frame of mind was key, so he had to think like a predatory plant. His feet rested flat on the ground and he concentrated on the way the setting sun felt on his skin. Imagining himself soaking up the rays like it was blood, he shuddered his imaginary leaves.
There was a frightening moment when his mind would blank out and alien thoughts, nonsensical sensations, would invade his mind. The last feeling to leave him was the sensation of limbs that were not his own. A thunderous muscle deep in his chest pumping. Seed cannon! A whole slew of them erupted from his mouth like buckshot.
Sadly, watermelon seeds were not shards of metal nor was his magic the same as a rifle. Made for spread attacks it was not and his seeds did make an impressive display, but little more use than that.
He needed to find a bigger seed spitting monster. "Fu-fu-fu-pants!" This was not the day for practice he fumed, brushing seeds off his jacket. "Gettin' late." He added with a sigh, staring up at the sky. Tomorrow meant more work and a test. They called it an evaluation, but he knew all the fancy synonyms for test when he heard them. It was all in the tone.