taxonomites | [visual]

Briar is stretched out on the peak at the center of a slanted roof, a makeshift shelf for building supplies set up next to him. He has obviously just finished modifying the roof, widening the ridgepole of it. Not to make it easier to reach, but to give him a comfortable seat when he does. Briar leans back and rests his elbows on the lip of the chimney, the weather warm enough that no fire is lit below. Running water forms faint background noise, his home located not far from the river.

"Has anyone else noticed how strange the plant life here is?" he asks idly, alternately basking in the sun and enjoying the view. The garden, the sun, and the cloudwatching are all doing him more good than he can say after recent events. Being up on a roof always did seem to help some.

During Briar's first explorations of the city, he made note of both familiar and unfamiliar plants, anything he could find as many of them went dormant for the colder months. "The weather here fluctuates more than the usual climate for a lot of vegetation I've found. I wondered whether they adapted to cope with a wider variety of temperatures and rainfall levels." He pauses, frowning. "But they haven't."

Briar's garden stands out in stark contrast to the neighboring areas to someone who knows what he's looking for. Seeing it from above only makes what he has already observed from ground level even clearer. "My garden is still growing what I planted in it recently, but nearby? That's different. There's plants that weren't there before, plants that wouldn't have survived the colder months here. Decade-old trees that hate cold temperatures are flourishing, and they weren't in the city when we got snow."

He grins now, informing everyone, "Fruit trees that weren't even around to get pollinated are in season. I've transplanted some vegetables that are near the end of their growing cycle but definitely weren't last time I checked them. If anyone wants lemons or oranges, I've found a lot. I've also got--" He reaches into his pocket, retrieving a brown and fuzzy-skinned oblong fruit. Briar peels half of it with a small knife, biting into the juicy green fruit inside. He chews, swallows, and smiles again. "I don't know the name for these, but they're good."

He shrugs a shoulder. "I'm in the northwest district, Wilde, a mile upriver from the tram line to the center of the city." City still seemed a misleading word, given the massive size of the place. "You're welcome to stop by and visit if you'd like some fruit or some company." Briar adds as an afterthought, "Or a sparring partner. I haven't gotten much practice with a staff lately."

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Grinning, he agreed amiably, "Being able to talk to them does help, even if they sometimes can't answer in a way I understand."

She sounded a little hesitant, so Briar offered, "Just come inside and upstairs. I'll help you onto the roof once you're there." As Martha entered the house, Briar slid down the roof to the half-open skylight he had climbed out of, opening it the rest of the way and sitting on the windowsill, feet hanging into the attic room.

She didn't have any difficulty finding her way into the house and up to the attic. (After a moment of consideration, she left Project Indigo at the bottom of the stairs. She trusted Briar and, if someone did try to take it, they'd soon learn that it was very dangerous to mess with alien technology. She was the only person in Taxon who knew how to work the device.)

"It looks more manageable up here than it did from the ground," she noted, "Move over, then."

"Alright," Briar answers, laughing as he obliges. He stands up, leaning forward to keep a hand in contact with the roof, balancing on one foot lodged in the very corner of the sill. Briar waits for Martha to get onto the sill beside him before clambering lightly up the tiles with the ease of someone used to odd scrambles. Martha is free to wonder why.

When he reaches the peak of the roof, he leans back down to extend a hand for his friend. "If you'd like a hand up, you're welcome to one. The tiles are sometimes a little slippery."

"Where did you learn to do that?" Martha exclaimed, looking both impressed and a little bemused as she took his hand, allowing Briar to help her up on to the roof. The tiles were a little slippery, but she felt reasonably steady and she trusted him. At the moment, that was probably a more important question than why he was on the roof in the first place.

Briar just grinned at her again. "I'm a man of many talents," he informed her seriously, schooling his face back to a sober expression as he spoke. He got Martha settled opposite him and straddled the now bench-width ridge of the roof.

Leaning over, Briar snags a couple oranges and a kiwi from one of the satchels he has sitting on the temporary shelf next to him. "You hungry?"

And with a shrug and slightly more convincing semblance of seriousness, Briar informed Martha, "I could tell you, but you're not allowed to hold it against me." The charming smile doesn't fall too flat afterward. He isn't really worried about what Martha might say about Briar's various transgressions, not when she was there in a hideous echo of Gyongxe with him.

"I've noticed!" she exclaimed, speaking with a considerably less serious expression as she settled down. It was a surprisingly comfortable spot. "And I'm fine, thanks."

When he retrieved the fruit from his bag, she half expected him to start juggling them as a further demonstration of his many and varied talents.

"It's a deal," she said, "It can't be that bad."

"I'm nearly always hungry," Briar muses, "Though I should be done growing by now. My best guess is I'm 18 or so." His nails are kept short, the better to work in the garden, and his thumb leaves a slight dent in the orange as he starts peeling it.

Briar breaks off a section of orange, eating it before he starts. "I don't remember my actual birthday," because Briar has since chosen one of those, "or my first name. I'm on my third by now. My second name was Roach. I was a thief for years, and the Thief Lord named me. I chose Briar Moss for myself after my third arrest, when someone noticed I had magic and whisked me off to a temple instead of hard labor like I was headed for. Said they couldn't make out temple papers for somebody named Roach, and I'd never liked the name anyway." Knowing his age, Martha can get an inkling of just how young Briar was when he started stealing. He wouldn't have lasted long in hard labor; Briar would be long dead by now if Niko hadn't found him when he did.

"I definitely prefer Briar," she said, but, for the most part, Martha listened to his story in silence. After all, what could she say? He must have been a child when he'd been forced to start stealing to survive and when he'd been arrested for the first, second and third times.

"I hope that was the last time you got arrested," she said, because apologising for something that had already happened would have sounded less than sincere. "And I'm glad you got out."

"It's rather unanimous," he muses, adding, "Though I can't say as I ever went back to ask the Thief Lord his thoughts on the matter."

And with regard to his arrests... "I've come close a few other times, but those ones weren't for stealing, I swear!" Briar grinned broadly, false bravado in the face of the much bigger trouble he'd had potential to get into lately. Powerful magic and military and political struggles were every bit as dangerous as his old life had been. Briar just ate a lot better now.

He gets a little more serious when he concludes, "Me too. Niko dragged me kicking and screaming off to Emelan, forced me to bathe like every other person who can afford to, and I got the best two mothers a boy could ask for out of it. Plus three sisters, an awful lot of good meals, training..." He trails off with a shrug. Briar knows full well how lucky he is.

[visual]

[Location: Briar's House]

[Location: Briar's House]

[Location: Briar's House]

[Location: Briar's House]

[Location: Briar's House]

[Location: Briar's House]

[Location: Briar's House]

[Location: Briar's House]

[Location: Briar's House]