First Thoughts:

Well, it took four of them to put me in this cell. They finally sat on me, all of them, until I stopped cursing and struggling. I guess I was supposed to be carried in unconscious, but somebody made a mistake and didn't tranquilize me thoroughly enough. I came completely awake, suddenly, when I heard the clatter of feet on polished cement and the banging open of metal doors. I don't like cramped spaces, behind locked doors. When I saw I was actually going to be shoved into such a place, I broke a nose or two.


To the Prison Authorities:

Please return my own clothes to me. When I left the Ministry of Hades, I was dressed in a red tank and a denim jacket and jeans and high-tops. I came to while your guards were lugging me in here, only to find myself wearing this frilly dress from the 1998 Pink House catalog.  It is not mine. It was put into my backpack, by two of my coworkers, as a joke. It is not that I disrespect anybody, male or female, who prefers to wear a dress, but, me, I simply don't have the habit.


Second Thoughts:

{{Hisoka's coherence dissolves, without warning.  So that he may continue his story, he retrieves his disorganized images, and tries to wrestle them into time order.  They aren't too cooperative.}}

So, first, I was fighting, fists, feet, ribbons, lace, and all, and then...

Oh, they held me down. I couldn't breathe.
What happened next?
Weight gone...
Cool air suddenly rushing into my lungs.
Ah, they absconded, cowards.
Clang! went the steel door.
Them on the other side. Me, alone, in here.


Then, they turned the floor on. ZZZZZZZZZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP.


{{Pause.}}

Can anybody hear me?

 {{A long time goes by.}}

 Is it night? Is it day? Where is this place? What place is it?

 {{Shivering pause.}}

 They control people with electricity.

 {{Sigh.}}

 Anybody listening?

 {{Five fingers, resting on the bunk, curl, clenching slowly into a fist.  The tendons on the back of that hand strain outwards in a delicate web of tension.}}

Aw, screw it.

{{Five hours go by, every minute dragging.}}

Can't sit. I've been pacing back and forth...in yards of appliquéd ruffles, which are easy to trip over.

No, I can't panic, just because I'm in a cage. I have to keep thinking and observing. If I allow my focus to be lost, then I am lost. I've taken an inventory. No summoning power, no telepathy. No response, anyway. Something is wrong. Can no one hear me? But my empathy seems intact. I think there are others. I cannot be alone.


Third thoughts:

{{During the following hour, Hisoka redoubles his efforts to reach any ear, any mind, someone, anyone. He exhausts himself. His mind goes gray. His senses shut down. Without going to sleep, he sleeps. He starts, opening his eyes. He catches himself in the act of falling off the bunk.}}

Naaaa--!

{{On the floor.}}

What's that?

{{A redolence on the air, a little like the scent of narcissus, or of iris, or of lilac. Or of the purple rose, which does not exist. It is not in fact a scent, but an impression. Sweet, regretful, energetic.}}

He's here, Tsuzuki is here, too!