[introduction]: the road to hell is paved with good intentions

[justiceis_red]

He has lost.

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[league_mascot]

The young Frenchman has been out hunting eggs. There's no real reason to hunt them other than they seem fresher, and there's lots of birds, especially wildfowl with nests out now. He's carrying a basket and has mud on his knees, and he's whistling. It's possible he will be heard before he's seen, but then he sees the young man stretched out upon the ground and rushes over.

He drops to his knees close by, setting the basket down. "Are you alright?"

[justiceis_red]

Still trying to figure out how to get around the physical helplessness - it must be some lingering symptom, he determines, which is - irritating, but probably not too unexpected. After all...

However, at this point Armand comes into his field of vision and Light blinks. And then can't help but start to smile again. "Yes," he says, and manages not to laugh again - he doesn't want to make anyone uneasy. "Yes, I am."

His eyes are a little overbright, probably still in some kind of shock. It's been an eventful hour. He does, however, try to shove himself up, and can't keep his breathing from hitching, one hand jerking toward his chest. Light tries to focus through it, smile dampened by that weakness.

[league_mascot]

"Maybe you should lie back down again," Armand says worriedly. "I am sorry if you're not where you thought you should be. It happens that way." He calls up a smile to follow, and even if it isn't reassuring, it is friendly. "I'm Armand. I can get help if you're ill."

[justiceis_red]

Light feels a slight urge to snarl at the worried expression - who are you, he would ask, to be - but forces himself to relax. Apparently he hasn't recovered as completely as he thought. And closes his eyes, for a moment. "No, not ill...I think it shall pass." Wait.

"Why should I not be where I think?"

[cute_shinigami]

There's a tall young man at work planting a flowering cherry tree close to a pond with a gravelled bottom, which has yet to be filled, though there's already a line of bamboo piping on a low stone wall leading from the front of the Mansion. But when Light approaches, he pauses, looking up and leaning on the handle of his shovel. A look of gentle suspicion ticks through his violet eyes for a split second, but that doesn't stop him from calling out in a friendly manner: "Hey there, you must be new here."

Tsuzuki cannot deny the feeling that's surrounding the newcomer, and it's something he's sensed many times: the aura of a wandering soul stuck between the mortal world and the afterlife, but this one is clearly still incarnate. He's more than willing to assist, as soon as he hears this young man's story...

[justiceis_red]

Light, of course, doesn't recognize this one for what he is. He doesn't fit the profile Light knows of shinigami, not at all. So his smile is easy, even if his mind is whirling, halfway between confused and dissatisfied with the explanation he's received so far. "Yes, apparently so..."

His smile is a little strained for a moment, considering that, and then it relaxes. "Is it as though I'm wearing some kind of sign over my head?"

Look, witty and friendly and completely normal. Yeah, we'll believe you, Light, sure.

[cute_shinigami]

"Nah, not at all: I just have a good intuition for newcomers," he says with a friendly chuckle, realizing that's a very mild term for what he senses in this young man. "I'm Asato Tzuzuki, but no, I'm not the gardener here: I'm just staying here and muddling around with the grounds to earn my keep here," he says, with a bow. "Welcome to the Mansion."

Does he realize that he's dead? Sometimes when they've died very suddenly it messes a person up. Best to ease him through it if he starts to get agitated, he thinks. But there's something odd about this young man: he's learned to tell differences that mark the souls of the innocent, the unrepentant, and the guilty but remorseful. And it's hard to place this newcomer under any of those headings.

[justiceis_red]

Well, when bowed to, it's polite to return it, though this one seems so harmless- and indeed, so uninteresting - that Light's mind has already begun to wander, and he's hardly even paying attention to the conversation with half of his thoughts. "Light Yagami," he says, making sure to stay respectful. "And I thank you for the welcome. People have been very...helpful."

Light says he doesn't have anything to repent, so clearly. He does, however, notice some of the scrutiny, and brings a bit more focus back to the current conversation. What's he looking at...

[the_bloodless]

As Light examines the mansion after his arrival he may come across an unremarkable man, of unexceptional height and a much sharper gaze than his blandly pleasant smile would suggest. "Hello, I don't believe I've seen you around before. Recently arrived?"

[justiceis_red]

Of course, Light knows better than to watch the mouth. Eyes are far more interesting. And far more relevant, most of the time. So though he seems relaxed, hands in the pockets of his pants and blazer unbuttoned in a concession to informality, the way he watches Kvothe is anything but casual.

But he smiles back, easily. "Yes, I am. Just now, in fact, or nearly..." Offers a hand. "Light Yagami."

And what I am finding is less than reassuring, but that can wait.

[the_bloodless]

"Kvothe," he says, taking the hand without hesitation even as his eyes become more considering. "You've been shown around the place then, I hope?" He smiles, though he's already noticed the sharpness of Light's gaze, he is not finding it overly reassuring either.

[justiceis_red]

Light offers a firm handshake, then, before letting go, watching Kvothe's gaze closely and with the same kind of consideration. "Enough, I think. I am merely wandering, now, and seeing what some slight exploration may turn up."

[silvereyedphage]

It's likely questionable if Light believes in angels or demons, but he might be tempted to rethink his ideas once he walks into the kitchen later in the early evening and finds a bespectacled silver-haired man dressed entirely in white sitting there, drinking tea over the remains of a light meal. The stranger glances up at him. "Good evening, looking for some tea? There's a fresh pot of green tea on the stove," he offers, politely.

Muraki isn't in a good frame of mind tonight: he's been obliged to break the spell that was keeping his inner self well-fed and he's starting to feel the effects of settling on ambient energy alone. His sinuses are starting to feel tight, to say nothing of the way that the phage is fuming and the sense of emptiness starting to claw at his insides.

[justiceis_red]

Light stops in the doorway, and almost does double-take - but it's just a silver-haired man in white. He's been thrown off by this place - but that's no call to lose his cool.

Not, a slightly panicky part of him thinks, that there is any reason not to - it's not as though anyone is trying to catch him now. He's dead. And helpless.

He's ignoring that part of his brain. "Good evening, and thank you," he goes over to the coffee machine instead, though, "But I think I'm more in the mood for coffee."

[silvereyedphage]

"Whichever you prefer," he says with a graceful shrug, as he sets down his drinking bowl and leans back in his chair, folding his hands on his crossed knees. "You're new here, I take it?" he asks, looking up at Light.

Which is likely to get Light's attention, since only one silver-grey eye is visible through the mane falling over the stranger's brow, and the pupil has a feline or snake-like slittiness to it, which adds to the intensity of that gaze.

He's trying not look Light in the eye: given his state of mind, it wouldn't be a good idea for either of them.

[justiceis_red]

"That's correct," glancing over his shoulder, and just managing not to start - those are unusually colored eyes, for one, and the pupil...but of course, it's rude to stare. He half smiles. "People have been surprisingly patient with me, I must say..."

Now what? After meeting the - other shinigami, earlier, he's not sure what he is and isn't up for believing. Don't be ridiculous, he chides himself. It's probably contacts. You're jumpy.

[iwalkindreams]

If it's evening, perhaps already melting into night, when Light makes it to the kitchen, he might find a young man sitting on a windowsill and smoking, blowing the smoke outside in smooth rings. He won't be paying too much attention unless Light says something -- he's already used to offering the Mansion's denizens the privacy they often need.

[justiceis_red]

He'll certainly come down to get himself some actual food - there was coffee earlier, but man may not live by caffeine alone. However, someone smoking makes him wrinkle his nose - not to mention that the posture makes him think of -

Would that damned detective get out of his head?

"An interesting choice of seat," he remarks as he opens the refrigerator. "I can't think it's that comfortable."

[iwalkindreams]

"It is, quite, when you're too lazy to make it out on the porch for a smoke," Adrian replies, cheerfully enough. "But I don't think I've seen you around so far?"

[justiceis_red]

"Most likely not, as I just...arrived today," he says, and that is becoming slightly easier. If only slightly. At least the window's open so he's not stinking up the room, Light supposes. "I stand corrected. It is never a situation I have had to face myself."