Little red flower.

Number Six.

Thoughts of Sia are in italics.
Thought projections are 'these magical italics with apostrophes around them'
I do not own Hunter x Hunter or the art used in this story.

The doors to the elevator slid open revealing a large, seemingly empty hall in front of the young girl, there are very few people who seem to have made here at this point, which is a little disappointing to the girl.

"Please take this number plate and wear it at all times." She pauses in her step looking to the right of her to see a small, green, bean looking man offering her a badge with the number Six on it

My... I quite like this number.

As the doors to the now vacant elevator close behind her she glances around the empty facility, then looking back quizzically at the small bean like man.

"My name is Bean and as for other participants, only six of you have actually arrived at this point. So please be patient with us whilst we wait for other examinees."

With a curt nod, the girl takes the badge and pinning it to her petticoat, careful not to make noticeable damage to her clothing.

Slowly she proceeds to take a few quiet steps into the quite daunting, oversized hall, making her way to the furthest side away from the entrance, ignoring the stares from the several other people who have made it here, she suddenly meets the stare from one of her "competitors" who immediately turned away, she mentally shrugs as none of the current participants particularly catch her attention.

She comes to a halt from her "investigative stoll" across the hall (she just wanted to unnerve the people around her), to now standing in front of a wall, she lightly knocks on it, listening to see if it's hollow, which it's not, good it can withstand some force.
Glancing up at the pipes above her, steadily placing her foot on the wall she launches upwards, effortlessly scaling the wall, swiftly, quickly and quietly, to land in a perched position on top of one of old, slightly rusted metal pipes, she remains in a crouched position for a moment, eyes closed, feeling her surroundings, checking to see if anyone took notice of her.
No, no one saw, or they generally just didn't care about her little acrobatics moment, who knows, plopping down on to her behind with a small huff, she slips off her satchel of "goods" that she has procured on her travels, making herself comfortable for the upcoming long wait for the rest of the examinees to arrive.

{Time skip to some point where there are more than six people in the dead quiet hall}

The girl lets out a sigh as she finished her god knows how many-eth game of solitaire which she started in hopes to somehow cure the massive crater of boredom drilled into her head, she leans back, closing her eyes and listens to the slowly growing hum of voices below her, the movement, the bustling and anxiety filled conversations of people not knowing who to trust or not, a devious smirk flits to her face when a clang can be heard against the pipe she's sat on slightly startling her, she shifts her weight to the side, peeking over the edge of her metal perch to see the cause of the noise, she blinks seeing a playing card, similar to the once from the deck before her, lodged in the rusted metal.

Following the general trajectory of said card to the sight of a man, a very pale man, with extremely gelled back hair that makes him look like he's in a constant state of walking against the flow wind, followed by a group of naive misfits ganging together against the guy, whom the girl has concluded looks like the Jester card that no body uses, the lil delinquent group clearly viewing him as an easy weird looking target... Well that's what they have assumed going by the nasty grins on their faces, those grins remaind on their faces alllll the way up until the jester stops holding back, releasing his nen, quite an intense blood thirsty aura shrouds him, the pitiful group disperses almost quickly as it had formed leaving the poor "leader" of the little group who initially started the spat to take the brunt of the jesters wrath, with the scape goat quivering in fear our wind swept card master leans in, whispering something into the lowly guys ear making his legs go weak causing him to fall to his knees in a terror filled daze, before a look of realisation hit his face and the weak guy quickly squabbles away into the crowd.