RP:A Place To Call Home

Summary: Alvina contacts Nildran Construction on Brennia's suggestion. The company had taken care of construction projects at the bard's college. Xiembantointh (aka Xiem) agrees to meet with her to go over the broad overview of what she's looking for. The bard aims to commission a new house if she’s unable to find a suitable home on her pending house search with Lanara and Aira.

Snow Drifted Path

Xiembantointh is early for his appointment to meet a, "miss Alvina," he reads from the delivered request and he knows nothing about her. He always has a one on one consultation first, so none of his construction company is with him this time. He does enjoy when a project is local to Frostmaw and he starts meandering around the space to survey the possibilities. Most might find it odd that the man is wearing a simple pair of work boots, tan slacks, deep green sweater and a lightweight jacket. His salt and pepper umber brown hair is pulled back into a low haphazard bun so it doesn't get in the way. The matching beard is starting to get bits of snow stuck within it while he waits and if one looks close, they might see bits of red glitter still stuck in it from when he dressed up for the Gala of Love in Enchantment. He simply carries a notebook and a charcoal pencil tucked against his ear to jot down notes of what his potential client is looking for in a home. The dragon always aims to build a home and not simply a house, custom to fit any family, even if that means working off the foundation of a previous home. For anyone approaching the lonesome man, it might be a little off putting with how comfortable the six foot seven man seems in his little to no winter clothing and possibly even intimidating.

Alvina wrote Xiem on Brennia’s suggestion. He sounded competent but also charitable and while she’s in no need of charity herself as a high standing socialite (who is taking a break from the spotlight due to reasons revolving around her husband), she appreciates a business that gives back and wants to support that. In addition to wanting a new house, of course. She leaves work a little early to meet him, cloak pulled tight around her neck to bite back the chill. Being a lycan should help but she’s always been cold by nature. Or maybe it’s just nice to wear a heavy cloak and feel extra warm. She spots a man through the scattered snowfall, makes note of his odd attire and introduces herself. “Alvina Landon,” She says politely, offering to shake his hand to complete the introduction. “I’ve heard good things about the work you do. I’ll forewarn you I’m used to things being a certain way.” The bard was nice but this was a work encounter that she was paying for and she’d learned a couple things about business dealings. By the looks of him though, he doesn’t look like a con artist. It was more that she had a standard of living to maintain. Once you have heated bathroom floors, you can’t really go back. “Brennia suggested your company but I do wonder, do you build exclusively in Frostmaw? I haven’t truly decided on a location for this project yet.” She’s unapologetic only because it’s a service she’s paying for and she’s sure he’s used to such questions or uncertainties.

Xiembantointh turns his attention to the woman with a smile so warm it could melt the snow around them, "hello Mrs. Landon!" He holds out a bare hand decorated in a few interesting, yet masculine rings, with aims to take her own (probably gloved) hand for a respectful shake and his other hand follows suit after tucking his notebook under his arm. She will find that his hands aren't even cold. "It is a pleasure to meet you," he says genuinely, still smiling and radiating infectious joy. Most might assume the tall rugged man might be aloof and cold, but his actions and personality are the opposite. Vibrant azure colored eyes switch from the fair woman's face down to his notebook after flipping it open and taking the charcoal up with his left hand, "I'm glad you have, but Nildran construction does what it can." Her warning is met with a nod, "and I will do my best to meet your standards Mrs. Landon." He continues to call her respectfully by her last name she shares with her husband and doesn't even know anything about the celebrity/political couple due to his focus on work over the last few years. His grin grows at the mention of Brennia as he is flattered a client recommended him, "she did?" Is he actually blushing!? Yes. He cannot help it whenever someone compliments his work so much to actually refer anyone to him, but he has been working twenty-four-seven lately to make a name for himself and it is finally paying off! "No, not at all. I have done work all over Lithrydel, actually. Do you have an area in mind, Mrs. Landon?" He readies himself to jot down the areas she is looking to relocate. "While we are at it, why don't we start out with how many bedrooms and washrooms you will be needing," he awaits her input while glancing around the vacant homes in the area, wondering if she had already had one of those in mind.

Alvina is surprised by how warm his greeting was but she chalks it up to the fact she’s paying him. A ‘don’t-bite-the-hand-that-feeds’ situation. She gives him a polite smile, catching sight of his rings during their exchange. He wasn’t the first man she’d seen walking around Frostmaw without proper outerwear. If anything, she’s jealous! Alvina doesn’t correct the use of her name. The Landon name had become a badge of honor she wore. A warning of where she came from and the potential consequences of trying anything shifty. She perks up at the title, straightening her shoulders with pride. He’s blushing about Brennia though. She narrows her emerald eyes and tucks that away to ask Brennia about later. She knew he had a soft heart from what Brennia said but that was a surprise. He turns back to the task at hand and asks her about room numbers. She hums, sorting through a blueprint in her mind of what she’d like. “Seven bedrooms should be sufficient.” One for each wild child, one for herself. A guest room and a spare room for whatever should arise. The question of washrooms is more complicated. “I think four washrooms will be okay…though I’m sure my kids would argue they all need their -own-.” Alvina laughs and shakes her head. Her red hair is tied back in a long braid and tucked under her cloak hood. “Three basically teenagers and one almost there. Gods, they are a mess.” He asks about possible locations and she tries to recall her conversation with Lanara. “Frostmaw is on the list but I’ve also considered Xalious, Kelay. Quieter areas.” Cenril was always a busy hub of activity and danger. “Do you also live out here? Do you recommend it?” She takes a moment to look him over again before adding “I’m guessing the cold suits you if you’re dressed like that in this weather.” Polite small talk was a skill she’d mastered long ago.

Xiembantointh diligently jots aspects of their conversation down without judgment because he actually had quite a large home for his own family back in the day, but now he just lives in an efficiency apartment above his office. Xiem wouldn't have bat an eye if Alvina asked him right then and there because Brennia was nice and all, but he does not mix his business with pleasure and he is simply flattered by the praise given to his hard work. There is a boisterous and contagious chuckle to follow her comment, "whoa boy, do they ever! I raised five kids of my own, don't get me started on dragon puberty and the -need- for more bathrooms," he doesn't mind sharing with his clients and finds the process goes a lot smoother if you can be more friendly with people because he isn't in this business for the money. Living as long as he has -and- as a dragon, you don't really need it. Humor and pride twinkle in his eye as he speaks of his kids. "Four? You -do- have your hands full, huh," he grins again, "but one day, you'll be looking at the adult you raised and you will miss those hectic days." Those azure hues look far off to reminisce for a small moment before being pulled back to the conversation at hand, "I love it here, but I was born here far too long that I would like to admit," he shyly deflects. "I do understand the complications it can cause as a human, though. Xalious is an amazing place where most feel closest to magic, but Kelay is always so peaceful and a safe place… A bit boring if you ask me," he doesn't consider this 'polite small talk' and will not drivel on about fake nonsense. "People out here in these small villages seem to really look out for each other and when moving, it is important to keep in mind the community you'll be welcoming around your family as well. What is that old saying, 'it takes a village'? Will this be a village you try to avoid, or that you will happily welcome into your home," he lets a comfortable silence rest between them so she can consider this bit of advice before he decides to move along. "Are you considering a large kitchen and dining space for your family?"

Alvina finds this anecdotal addition funny. “Dragon puberty?” She scrunches her nose. “Lycan puberty is pretty bad, I can’t imagine.” They are both, apparently, dangerous beasts but Xiem doesn’t look it right now. He looks very warm and sensitive, in personality. Of the two of them, Alvina is the coldest, in personality. “If seven washrooms is possible, it might be worth the money.” He gushes about his kids and she finds it endearing from an aloof distance. “Don’t even say that. Werewolf kids age three times as fast so I’m enjoying the accelerated version. Do dragons mature faster to a point?” She’d never thought to ask. Hildegarde was a dragon but they never had much need to talk about children. He calls her a human and she interjects delicately, a thing she would not have done two years ago. “Lycan.” Her smile isn’t sharp but her words are firm. She’s proud to be what she is. What her family is. The bard listens intently while he explains the need for understanding about the community she’ll be building herself into. “Sometimes boring is fine.” She thinks about the little cabin she used to own in Kelay and smiles at the memory of it. It was simple and small and they’d grown out of it quickly but she always felt safe there. “Werewolves can get a bad rap, alongside the witches in Cenril. I’ll take anywhere that’ll be safe for the kids.” Cenril, after the bomb incident, was not safe. With the zombie outbreak Khitti mentioned, it was even less safe now. “I’ve only ever passed through Xalious but maybe I’ll consult with a couple of my other friends about a location and get back to you on that.” It was a big decision, deciding the next foundation to build and where. He asks about the kitchen and dining space and she laughs earnestly. “If I can get my kids to actually sit still for two minutes to eat with me.” It was nice that he also had children. She didn’t feel bad talking about them. Trying to talk to people without children about said children felt arduous. She knew they would nod and smile out of love for her but they likely didn’t care what mundane item Meadow had chewed to pieces that day. Like when someone tells you a weird but meaningless dream they had. The compulsion was odd. “I would like a large kitchen and dining room though, in case there’s something to host there.” The idea of having a small space is appalling after their mansion in Cenril. She could move back but that defeats the moving out of Cenril part for safety. “How old are your kids now?”

Xiembantointh smooths his hair back on the top of his head, "considering that dragons don't even reach adulthood until they are a hundred? I would say too long," but the joy on his face advertises that he would go back in a heartbeat if he could. He bows his head, "forgive me," he requests before correcting himself, "lycan." He would have asked, but he learned long ago that could be a touchy subject for those bitten. He nods thoughtfully, "definitely. This is a decision you'll want to think about if you're creating a forever home and it must feel like a sanctuary along with a safe haven for the whole family," he still doesn't seem to care that he is meeting the wife, but not the husband. Xiem holds no judgment and makes no assumptions because that is where you can make an ass out of yourself. Another infectious laugh bellowed from the man, "and you've even had to make three different kinds of meals just because you didn't want to hear them gripe about no liking the one meal you prepared," him and Nildran used to pull their scales out trying to appease the ever changing appetites of five kids! It was good to vent about those times again. He quickly scribbles ideas for her kitchen when the question hits him, "well… I had hibernated for two hundred years, so let me do some quick math. Vridi, fiercest war commander out there, she is in the early five hundred range, Cyniarth, my girly girl, should be right behind her by about ten years," by now he's started to count them on his slightly calloused fingers. "My oldest boy, Xendereim, should be turning five hundred - that hellraiser. Tyres and his husband are actually the same age and they will turn four hundred and fifty five this year. That brings me to my youngest, papa's little girl, Yghyder, she just turned four hundred." There is so much love and care in the deep timbre of his voice the more he talks of his kids, "how old are yours?" Suddenly he feels bad that they are talking more about themselves than the house she wants built! How rude of him! He hangs on every word she says, but makes sure to ask, "what do you feel the entrance way should look like when you or someone enters your home?" This will give him an idea on how vast she wants her home to be, this is sounding like a cozy mansion.

“Quite alright.” Alvina confirms the confusion of her lycanthropy. It wasn’t obvious, she looked like any other human after all. “You look quite human yourself.” It’s meant as a point of relation to their lots in life rather than a note of racism of any sort. Alvina was luckily blessed that most tended to not question her position even in the wife role of the establishment of her marriage. The only person who was skeptical about taking her orders was Milo, Hudson’s right hand man, and he’d caught a few harsh looks from Hudson over the years for it. The poor man. She blinks at the disclosing of how -long- it takes for dragon children to age. “It’s a strange blessing, watching them age so quickly. They will taper off as adults.” And then, like Alvina, look untouched by time. His sentiment about creating a safe haven for her family is a lovely thought and she offers a slight smile in appreciation for his words. “Gods, right? My youngest won’t touch anything that my oldest two want. The middle child refuses both. Thank gods for the nanny or I might have lost it.” With the madness that had been Hudson and Alvina’s lives in Cenril, the luxury of help aided their large brood’s existence. If it had been them alone, they may have reconsidered more children. Not that Bryce or Meadow were really planned but neither were Harper and Luna. Alvina never regretted any of them, not even for an instant. Xiem discloses the ages and names of his children and she nods, listening patiently to the proud parental pontification. Children hundreds of years old. She can’t imagine that amount of time alive for herself, let alone her children. She would give them hundreds of years if she could. “You sound quite proud.” Again, she’s charmed by his affection for his family. “Not that I’ll play favorites but…Luna, the youngest of my twins, is so much like me. A little copy.” It’s clear they are the closest. “Harper, the oldest twin by seconds, is dad’s little girl for sure. She’s a spicy thing. They are both turning a rough human…15 this year. This month, actually. I’ve still got to figure out their gifts…” She sighs, closing her eyes to cement the reminder. “Bryce, the middle, will be 12 this year. Thinks he’s such a hot shot as almost a teenager.” She rolls her eyes. Teenagers were a different breed altogether. It’s cringy sometimes. “And our youngest, Meadow, will be 9 this year. She has a bad habit of -only- being a wolf. Not a werewolf but just…it’s like having a dog for a daughter? I can’t explain how endearingly weird it is.” He transitions them back to the house and she considers the entrance. “I’d say…double doors with a spacious little foyer. Nothing ‘too much’. Not a hotel level extravagance.” Maybe close though. Alvina’s a bit spoiled in ways such as this.

Xiembantointh let his gaze slip down to her lips when she smiles and he would smile in return if he wasn't already smiling like he always is, but he does like the feeling of earning a smile from Alvina. His hand continues to write or sketch as she shares, so his gaze shifts from her fair face to his notebook respectfully and even a chuckle peppered in here or there with a, "don't I know it." When she points out how proud he is, there is a blush returning to his cheeks, "I am. They are my pride and joy," he doesn't even realize how used he is to saying 'my/mine' or 'me' when those terms used to be 'ours' and 'us'. He makes note of their ages for building purposes and pays her the same courtesy of attention as it's her time to share. "Yeah, a perfect parent is never supposed to pick favorites and mine definitely isn't Yghyder," there is a twinkle of humor in his gaze because he knows he is far from a perfect parent because there is no such thing. Once she concludes, he looks thoughtful for a moment before saying, "wow, really?" Most people might be judgmental and find the behavior of canine tendencies odd, but he genuinely comments, "Meadow must have an astounding imagination. That is so unique," Xiem and his late wife never pushed their kids to be anything, but they did encourage them to be the best version of themselves and that is all you can do, really. He finds talking to Alvina easy and has to pull his attention back to his notebook a little harder than before. "How many stories are you expecting, one floor with maybe a finished basement? Two or three floors?"

Alvina got so caught up in talking about her kids that she had to recenter at his question. Their last house had a bunker and a secret escape tunnel. They wouldn’t need that…she hoped. “Could we do a walk out basement? It’s nice to have multiple exits in case of emergencies. Three floors would be best to spread all this madness out.” She looks into the snow covered empty plot and thinks it over. “What do you suggest, as a builder?” The bard worries he’ll take her formal coolness to heart so she adds “And then as a father?” She smiles but it’s polite and distant. A wedding ring sits snugly on her left ring finger marking her as taken, even if she was separated from her husband. Not that she would tell a stranger all about the intimate details of her married life anyway. At his compliment of Meadow she shakes her head in appreciation. “She is her own person, no one can doubt that.” Alvina envied how sure Meadow was of what she wanted to do always. “Children have the super power of ignorance about the world and the lessons life hasn’t taught them yet.” She looks over at his notebook and the unreadable scribbles and sketches. He isn’t what she expected when she agreed to meet with a builder.

Xiembantointh nods in agreement, “that’s a wonderful idea Mrs. Landon.” He also made a mental note to reign in their topics and there are less side glances to the redhead. Among the rings on his fingers, he still wears his wedding ring as well and under the cover of his shirt is his late wife’s ring on a thin golden necklace. “When my kids got the ability to shift to humanoid forms, we let them decide to live in a house or the mountain and it was unanimous when they wanted to move,” he chuckles while smoothing his snow and slightly glitter riddled beard. “I liked the idea of having their mother and my room on the first floor because it was a little more difficult to sneak out at night, but we are winged creatures and it was kind of pointless.” There she is, pulling them off topic with that kind smile and thoughtful questions again, but he didn’t mind in the least because this was the best part of the job, making connections and helping people build their dreams. Her comment hits him by surprise and a hint of sadness clouds over his azure eyes only for a second before he presses on while adding, “in a way I envy them sometimes.” Gently clearing his throat, he inquires, “a porch in the winter climate doesn’t make sense, but I’ve known people who build greenhouses off the side of the home. If you choose to leave Frostmaw, would you like a porch on the front or back? Maybe a wrap around?” His brow knits together with the question as he looks down at her, ready to jot down her answer.

Alvina watches his face when he talks about his late wife. It pricks her. “I’m so sorry.” She says earnestly, reaching out a hand to touch his forearm. “I envy them too.” Children. They don’t know about loss or hurt immediately. Life teaches them, by taking their mother for example. Or father. “They are lucky to still have you.” She offers, hoping it'll be enough but knowing it won’t. He asks about the house again and she worries the conversation has gotten too personal. Alvina clears her throat. “Front porch.” She says, without much need for consideration. “Patio in the back, I think.” She waits a second before adding “And I’ll take any suggestions you have for building materials. My interior design expertise omits the actual construction portion.” It was better -not- to point out a weakness when bargaining or purchasing like this but she feels bad. She feels…the same way she doesn’t want anyone to feel about her. “I’m supposed to go house hunting with a couple friends, one of whom is also moving, but afterwards I should have a better idea for a location. Sorry to give you such a rough draft off the bat.” She gestures to his notebook sheepishly. “I hope you have enough to work with, for all my gushing about my children.”

Xiembantointh doesn’t shrink away from the woman’s touch and that kind smile spreads across his bearded face again as the kindness spreads to twinkle in his eye, “please, Mrs. Landon, don’t be. I’m not,” of course he still misses his wife every day, heck, he hibernated for two hundred years because of his broken heart, but that isn’t something he wants to derail the progress of Alvina’s home right now. He had not even realized the grief was so easily seen on him these days, he thought he was doing so well. His cheeks tinge a shade of pink at her words, “that they do… thank you, Mrs. Landon.” Xiem nods and continues scribbling things down, “I won’t worry about materials just yet because that will rely on the area you choose. The harsher environments such as this require more brick or stone in order to trap the warmth within, but warmer climates allow for more variety. Even the roof, for instance, will have to be something sturdy and smooth like metal or slate so the heavy snow can slide right off. His notebook closes and he tucks his charcoal pencil atop his ear again, “is that so? That sounds like a wonderful time and that actually helps our plans. This way you can see in person what you like and don’t like, then you can write to me or stop by the Nildran Construction office to improve upon the blueprints.” He holds up the book and wiggles it, “you’ve given me plenty to work with. It’s been a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Landon and I hope to hear from you soon,” he holds out his hand for another handshake ‘sandwich’ before he strides off back towards town.