Maybe he hadn't gotten quite far enough to understand the prison cells fully... but between that expression, the emptiness of Hisoka's aura, and the rather obvious reality that they must have done something to keep someone like Hisoka under control, it isn't difficult to deduce that the cell must be suppressing Hisoka's Nen. But how? That's a better question, and one he'll need to research when he leaves here. If Shalnark were present... but he isn't. No, he's quite on his own, for the moment.
Which brings him to this... situation. Hisoka's surging bloodlust - a nearly physical presence between them even through glass, even without Hisoka's power surging, too. How long will the imprisonment last? It can't be long, actually - it's been four months, give or take a few days, since his imprisonment began, and four months is supposedly the maximum period of punishment. Or rehabilitation, as the phrasing prefers.
There are a few ways he could handle it, really. He could simply indulge it. He'd been willing to at home, after all, and though he has respect enough for Hisoka's power and skill alike - enough that he's not willing to write off the possibility that he'd lose - he's also fairly sure the odds are in his favor. And it isn't as though he's ever feared the possibility of death, or even its near certainty. In this world, without his body, his legs - his family - his life means even less than it did before.
But... at the same time, it isn't as though he dislikes being alive. Why take the risk of dying if he doesn't need to? And Hisoka is, despite his... volatility... a useful person, a resourceful person. His strength alone would be worth winning over (at least for a time), but he has other things of worth as well: a sharp mind, infinite tenaciousness. That sticky aura and whatever it is that let him put a fake tattoo on his back. And there's something else that troubles Chrollo about this, as well. Something dull and insistent, tugging at the edges of his mind - tugging more insistently when he remembers that night outside the dirigible.
In sum, he'd rather not actually get into a deathmatch with the man, at least for now. Which makes indulging Hisoka's desires a low priority - a backup plan at best.
That leaves a few other options. He could simply refuse to fight. That might be effective. Hisoka wants a battle, after all, not a slaughter. And, technically, it might be justified - he had promised a duel if Hisoka managed to return his Nen to him, but as it happens, it was the Porter that removed that chain. But, while refusal might serve the purpose of putting their confrontation off, it wouldn't really do much for Chrollo - his pride, or his position. The best result he could expect is that Hisoka would choose to leave, wait for another chance, or lose interest entirely.
Not ideal.
So he leans forward a little, closer, watchingt the muscles, tendons stretched tight in Hisoka's hand.
"Would it be worth it?" Actually, he already knows the answer, at least for the moment. His task is changing the answer. His fingers press flat against the glass, and his voice is... very low. "You're not thinking. Is this how you want to us to finally come together? You weak from cell-sickness, neither of us understanding in full what this world has made of me? What it could make of me."
His expression stays friend, but his fingers press down. "Win or lose, you'll only have me once.
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Which brings him to this... situation. Hisoka's surging bloodlust - a nearly physical presence between them even through glass, even without Hisoka's power surging, too. How long will the imprisonment last? It can't be long, actually - it's been four months, give or take a few days, since his imprisonment began, and four months is supposedly the maximum period of punishment. Or rehabilitation, as the phrasing prefers.
There are a few ways he could handle it, really. He could simply indulge it. He'd been willing to at home, after all, and though he has respect enough for Hisoka's power and skill alike - enough that he's not willing to write off the possibility that he'd lose - he's also fairly sure the odds are in his favor. And it isn't as though he's ever feared the possibility of death, or even its near certainty. In this world, without his body, his legs - his family - his life means even less than it did before.
But... at the same time, it isn't as though he dislikes being alive. Why take the risk of dying if he doesn't need to? And Hisoka is, despite his... volatility... a useful person, a resourceful person. His strength alone would be worth winning over (at least for a time), but he has other things of worth as well: a sharp mind, infinite tenaciousness. That sticky aura and whatever it is that let him put a fake tattoo on his back. And there's something else that troubles Chrollo about this, as well. Something dull and insistent, tugging at the edges of his mind - tugging more insistently when he remembers that night outside the dirigible.
In sum, he'd rather not actually get into a deathmatch with the man, at least for now. Which makes indulging Hisoka's desires a low priority - a backup plan at best.
That leaves a few other options. He could simply refuse to fight. That might be effective. Hisoka wants a battle, after all, not a slaughter. And, technically, it might be justified - he had promised a duel if Hisoka managed to return his Nen to him, but as it happens, it was the Porter that removed that chain. But, while refusal might serve the purpose of putting their confrontation off, it wouldn't really do much for Chrollo - his pride, or his position. The best result he could expect is that Hisoka would choose to leave, wait for another chance, or lose interest entirely.
Not ideal.
So he leans forward a little, closer, watchingt the muscles, tendons stretched tight in Hisoka's hand.
"Would it be worth it?" Actually, he already knows the answer, at least for the moment. His task is changing the answer. His fingers press flat against the glass, and his voice is... very low. "You're not thinking. Is this how you want to us to finally come together? You weak from cell-sickness, neither of us understanding in full what this world has made of me? What it could make of me."
His expression stays friend, but his fingers press down. "Win or lose, you'll only have me once.
"Don't be impatient."