[Introduction] Oh young Mariner...!

[in_summer_leaf]

Hisoka hears the click of a boot heel on cement, and becomes aware that the feet are his own. His red-gold hair ruffles in the moving air, and moisture beads on it. A fine mist of icy rain is wafting over the terrace where he stands. He is dressed in a naval uniform of the late 1890s or early 1900s, a brass-buttoned jacket belted over well-

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[villageson]

11-12 is just opening the door as Hisoka is contemplating knocking. He stops in surprise, not yet recognising the new arrival.

"Oh. Sorry," he quickly apologises, stepping back from the doorway.

[in_summer_leaf]

Hisoka smiles, eyes lighting up. "Hello," he says, quietly, not knowing whether or not he has been recognized. He hesitates a moment and then steps into the doorway, moving past 11-12. He turns around, setting his seabag down on the carpet for the moment, but keeping his grip on the satchel.

"What is this place?" he asks.

[villageson]

"This is the Mansion," 11-12 says then does a double take, gazing at Hisoka for a long moment as something dawns on him; some glimmer of recognition.

Then he shakes his head and asks, "I'm sorry for staring. Have we met?"

[in_summer_leaf]

"The Mansion," repeats Hisoka. He gazes at 11-12, very pleased to see him. "Yes, we have," he answers, still smiling.

[ken_murata]

Murata can be found on the grounds, digging with gloved hands in the freshly fallen snow. He giggles to himself as he starts drawing something indecipherable there - but it looks vaguely like a human figure.

[in_summer_leaf]

Hisoka has been walking all around the grounds just to see what there is to see.

"Pardon me, but what...?" he begins, softly and curiously.

Then he gets close enough to see the young man's face. "Murata-san!!" he exclaims.

[ken_murata]

Murata jumps, startled, and falls backward into the snow.

That just makes him giggle more though before he turns a surprised look to the young man who addressed him. "Huh? Do I know you?"

[in_summer_leaf]

"I'm Hisoka Kurosaki. I don't know if you know me or not. I met someone like you...in another place."

"You were snow-sculpting?" he asks, extending a hand to help Murata up if he wanted an assist.

[ggrindelwald]

In one of the hallways, a young blond wizard is strolling. He's dressed in a Victorian style of clothing which looks well worn and comfortably lived in. His face is alight with a cheeky expression and he looks as if he's searching for something, his eyes darting curiously around. In his hand a long stick-like wand is loosely held. Some unusual rune-like symbols may be noticed to be etched along the side of it.

[in_summer_leaf]

Having found himself a room at the top of the house, under the gables, Hisoka deposits all of his baggage in a corner and then whisks back out the door. He does not feel tired at all, and thus he knows he has fallen prey to the old ardour for exploring a new world.

He's already been outside once and will go back again after he's warmed up his hands, but for now he'll work on the mansion itself. He climbs up and down stairways and around corners and walks into and out of the many, many rooms.

He plunges through a doorway and finds himself coming down a hall towards a man with a lively expression and a strange implement. "Hello," he says.

[ggrindelwald]

Gellert grins at him. The face is 11-12's but the expression is completely different, which may make him not instantly recognisable as the other's almost twin.

"Well, hello there," he looks Hisoka over with open curiosity. "Are you new?"

[in_summer_leaf]

"Yes, I'm new," says Hisoka, smiling back, as the man's grin is infectious. He thinks, He looks just like 11-12! Are they brothers? Doubles?

"I'm Hisoka Kurosaki. Is this world as tolerable as it looks? And have you been here long?"

[gettin2old4this]

In the main room, Hisoka might run across a tiny old woman reading a huge tome of Chinese poetry. (With the characters and everything.) She may not look it, but she's a incredibly powerful psychic with senses that are sharp, (if not a little more annoying) as Hisoka's.

She looks up, and her eyes tense. A empath... I've only heard about these people in books and records. Then again, Genkai could claim that she's never seen elves, time lords, different sorts of shinigami, and possibly a vampire or two. Well, until she came here.

She puts down the tome, rather large for her size. "Good Day.", she utters neutrally.

[in_summer_leaf]

Hisoka turns around and stares directly into those large brown eyes. Then, quickly, he drops his own gaze, realizing that his startled reaction might be taken for rudeness.

"Good day," he replies, softly.

Psychic. And powerful.

Now what?

"You are a lover of classical literature?" he asks, gesturing to the book. Hisoka does not speak any of the Chinese languages, but his knowledge of the kanji characters makes it at least possible to figure out that it was poetry she is reading.

[gettin2old4this]

It's perfectly fine, she would say. It's only your power, there is no reason to be ashamed of it. In a split second, her large eyes twitch a little more. A Shinigami as well? Curiouser and curiouser...

"Yes. I am this is a collection of traditional poems..."

[in_summer_leaf]

Hisoka blinks.

How odd. The sensation of being known, known for what one is.

He tentatively directs a thought to her: Thank you, that is kind of you. In both my lives, my family was afraid of power. It took some getting used to.

"Literature expands the mind, does it not?" he says.

[lorien_gal]

Galadriel might be wandering about the grounds - she does not leave footsteps in the snow, and on this grey afternoon, she seems to be bearing light with her, though its source would be difficult to trace.

Should Hisoka come across her, she will be as friendly as she is uncanny.

[in_summer_leaf]

"Hello," says Hisoka, seeing the elf-woman walking through the snow without leaving footprints.

Shinigamis do that when they are in spirit form. But they are generally invisible in that case, whereas she is perfectly visible. More than visible, with that all that light...

He hadn't ever met an elf before, although he remembers there was one in the prison he had been trapped in for nineteen months. But she had gone before or perhaps just after he had arrived. She had been the first one to die. Or whatever it was that happened to people...including himself...when they went into the dark.

"It's very beautiful out here, isn't it?" he remarks.

The snow is flurrying down off and on, having turned to flakes rather than droplets, and still the sky is broken up at times, showing a pale and ephemeral blue between the shining grey and white clouds. The surrounding forest stretches away towards the horizon, a wintery wood, and the breeze carries the scents of earth, old leaves, and the resin of connifers.

[lorien_gal]

Galadriel looks over - she is wholly unperturbed, unbothered, is in fact smiling faintly.

We don't know if she could catch a fleeting glimpse of Hisoka's vague memory of an elf or not - whether she did or not, her eyes are always filled with age and knowledge too heavy to share, which could be mistaken for melancholy.

"A fine afternoon," she replies, voice quiet and fleeting. "Though one must have business out to venture in such snow.

She is always reminded of the Helcaraxë passage - every winter takes her back to it. To death, cold, treachery.

Remembering burdens her.

[in_summer_leaf]

If Galadriel has the sensitivity to pick up such a memory, she is welcome to it. It would be a glimpse of "halls of iron and darkling doors," the modern version, that is. And the elf maiden a vague image indeed, but a symbol in Hisoka's mind. Hisoka would understand the burden of memory...although his encompasses such a short stretch of time, and hers, aeons.

"I suppose so," he replies, softly, "I was exploring the grounds, and also, I am too restless to stay in one place today. What of yourself?"