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VisitingTheHellfireClub

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(originally started July 30, 2005)

Devon pulled on the long sleeve of his shirt, feeling the finer than usual fabric. "I can't believe..." his voice died out, and he grabbed the vest off the end of the bed. He shrugged into the vest, buttoning it up and then tugging it to lie flat. With a shake of his head, dark hair fell back from his face. "There. It's the best I've got, Acciaio. Will I fit in?" He looked over at Romeo, and waited, uncertain.

Romeo nodded. "You'll be fine," he answered. He produced two paper wrapped packages and after a moment's consideration tossed one at the young citizen.

Devon caught it, and looked at it, frown creasing his brow.

"The boots could use a little work, but I didn't have time to have some made for you."

Eyes widened, startled at the thought, as Devon stared at Romeo.

He looked at Dev's small feet shaking his head. "I might've had a better chance finding something in Aroura's closet."

The widened eyes turned to a scowl.

The noble waved off his friend's complaint before it was voiced, "I know, you don't want to accept tonight a gift, and you won't have me paying for things, blah, blah, blah. Consider it all a loan and we'll figure out a way for you to work it off," Romeo offered. "Wouldn't be the first time I've paid someone to spar with me."

"You wouldn't have to pay me to spar," Devon said, then clamped his mouth shut, scowling instead at the package in his hands. "Move over." He sat down on the bed, perched precariously close to the edge as he leaned down to tighten the ragged laces on the boots. "You could pay me to teach you a thing or two." He flashed a shy grin at Romeo. "Course, I might need to pay you for lessons. You're one of the few really good ones I've seen."

"Well, no matter. For now, you'll have to accept this," the noble said handing Dev a small purse. "And owe me two matches." His gaze watched the other man sitting beside him carefully, considering his hair apparently.

Devon nodded, that hair falling forward into his face again.

"Come here," he suggested moving further back on the bed, behind Devon and drawing the cit's hair into his hands.

Devon stilled, then slowly inched back until he felt Romeo behind him.

 He sat perfectly still, head upright, except for a faint shiver.

"What?"

Romeo found a tie about his jacket, probably in that pocket since well before he had shorn his own raven locks into the military cut that was just beginning to grow out. He gathered Devon's hair, fingers lightly brushing the nape of his friend's neck as he tied it back, much as he used to wear it.

Devon's breath caught and held, trapped beneath another shiver at the tickling touch.

Strong fingers lingered as he straightened the bow. "The cape has a hood and we'll both wear them, but this'll keep it out of your eyes and more importantly the mask's eyes."

"I don't wear my hair back," Devon said, voice tight. "I don't like the way it looks." He shook his head, feeling the swish of the ponytail, then bowed his head, staring at his feet. "No one would see it, and I'm used to keeping it out of my eyes." That pushing at it with his hands would only dislodge the hood, and mask, and thus reveal his face seemed to elude him.

"All the better," Romeo said. "Then no one that might meet you would make the connection."

"Disguise is about simple things, my dear friend," he explained as he shuffled forward toward the bed's edge. "If we over do it, you'll forget something or be expected to know something you don't."

"While anyone's welcome if they have the scratch, you don't need this reputation, Dev."

Devon tilted his head, still bent forward as he glanced at Romeo. A stray strand of hair escaped from the tie to outline features that seemed more slender without the heavy fall of hair. "What's so different between you and me? Other than class." The slender young man let that part go with a shrug. "I thought you went there a lot, and you don't seem so worried about your own reputation, Romeo."

"You said it yourself, Dev," Romeo said as his eyes met his friend's. "I can get away with all sorts of sh*t that you couldn't."

Chocolate eyes stared directly back as a wry smile twisted Devon's lips.

"Nobility allows for eccentricity and indulgence, citizenship doesn't. The people that run such a place are just hoping for someone like you to fall into their grasp," he explained before catching himself.

"Not that 'like you' has anything to do with class," Romeo offered in apology.

Devon made a short motion with one hand, letting the statement go as he stood, stretching as he straightened. He tucked the errant strand of hair back behind one ear.

"Someone idealistic, someone committed to paying their own way. They'd use that to trap you, Dev, and I don't want that to happen to you. I ca..." He hesitated, something like fear flickering through his dark eyes.

"I can leave my scruples at home if I have to," the noble joked.

Something in Romeo's voice made Devon turn to look at him sharply, fear mixed with something else visible before Devon's gaze dropped away. He laughed a little at Romeo's words. "Fine then, it's just a different set of rules. Same way I can't join the fencing clubs, can't wear a weapon in public, can't just can't in general." Devon shrugged. "No different than can't manage to pay for my room, can't manage to buy food... really, I'm not the one they want and unless you're paying my way, I can't really afford to go."

He ripped open the paper package and shook the folded cloak out, letting the mask dangle from one fingertip. He looked at the two objects, then resolutely slipped the mask on and shrugged into the cloak before turning from Romeo to peer into the small mirror there. Dark chocolate eyes framed in darkness stared back. "I won't embarass you, and I won't get caught up in anything." The faint flush of his skin was barely visible beneath the hood. He turned back to look at Romeo, the hood casting shadows over his face. "Good enough? I assume we wear these once we get closer, but not through the streets?"

"Embarrass me?" Romeo chuckled. "You're a better person than half the people we'll meet there, Dev. I should be proud to be your friend. You don't need my reputation attached to your name."

The barely visible flush intensified. "Thank you. And... whatever

  • you* think your reputation is, I'm proud enough to be your friend."

"Dark, mysterious. I like it," he said with a bit of honesty.

"Dev, this is about having fun, and letting loose for the evening, alright?"

Devon paused in the process of slipping the cloak off again to glance at Romeo. Dark eyes watched him for a moment, then he finished what he was doing and somberly folded it up, settling the mask on top of the folded fabric. He avoided Romeo's eyes. He gave a soft laugh. "Of course. Should I ask how far loose I'm supposed to let myself go?"

"Unless I don't know you half as well as I should, I doubt you'll cross any lines that haven't been crossed before," the Acciaio accepted. "Other visitors will have black and white masks like yours and black cloaks." He opened his own package and produced a mask that had been crafted into a sheet of flames in dozens of shades of red and yellow. Beneath it lay a red cloak. "Normally the more baroque and ornate masks are long standing members. You're good with sensing the lay of the land, you'll see who's offered deference."

Devon nodded.

"Ready to go?" Romeo asked, gathering the package beneath his arm again. "I met a charming girl yesterday, did I mention that?" he offered to start their walking conversation.

Devon held the package carefully beneath one hand. He locked the door as they left, and led the way down the stairs and out before giving way for Romeo to lead towards the Hellfire Club. He shook his head. "No... who? I thought you had it for Jo?" Devon offered a flash of a teasing propietary grin.

"What sort of friend would I be if I stole your girl?" the noble chided, turning toward the cathedral. "Someone my mother might find suitable for marriage, and based on the visit I made last evening, well... I might too."

Eyebrows rose and dark chocolate eyes blinked at Romeo before looking away. Devon shoved his hands deep into his pockets and stared ahead and slightly down as he said, "Really?"

"Well, I'm not being fitted for wedding clothes, yet," he laughed.

"I scaled the walls of her estate, still in my dockman's clothes, and used the family lake for a quick bath," he began. "It's a good thing I heard her walking before she caught me drying off on the lawn."

A flush rose again to the skin on Devon's neck, visible with his hair tied back. "If she's a noble girl, that wouldn't have been good at all. You might've found yourself wed before you'd had a chance to think about it."

"Well, Lord Anderon is a bit of a romantic. It might not have been that bad," Romeo explained. "We played tiddlywinks for forfeits." He held up his right glove and Devon could see that it was laced with a ribbon trimmed in Anderon colors.

"Ribbons?" Devon's look was bewildered. "Why not..." He shooks his head, voice trailing off. Right, a noble girl, so likely not kisses or anything else as forfeit. Still. He clamped down on the question that rose up, biting his tongue and near scowling with the effort.

"Ah, here were are. Hoods, no masks yet," he ordered as they crossed the square in front of the Cathedral.

Devon slipped under the cloak, pulling the hood forward and disappearing beneath the fabric.

The way to the Hellfire Club lay through the basement of an Inn that faced the Church's seat on Aquilla, perhaps in some sort of defiance. At least, that was the route that the young Acciaio knew and used; he was aware that there were others. Now it was known only to a few - the initiates.

Romeo spoke with a deeper resonant voice from beneath his hood, his face well shadowed in the smokey room. "Two rooms with southern faces," he said slipping a few coins across the bar.

A cupboard containing some linen was pulled aside, and a low narrow door beyond was revealed. Beyond the door ... steps led down into the darkness.

The stairs were dark - until Romeo, familiar with the place, retrieved a lantern and lit it. Then they made their way down into the darkness. "She has this air to her," Romeo continued. "All at once young and innocent, and the next moment... well, not as baudy as the women we'll meet tonight, but encouraging all the same."

"Innocent." Devon gave a dry laugh. He stumbled on the dark stairs, catching himself and muttering, "I should keep my mouth shut and pay attention to where we're going."

The stairs were steep and dank, and smelt increasingly of water. But there were flickering lights in the darkness below ...

And suddenly they rounded a corner, and were moving down the last flight of steps into a vast underwater cistern, with a high arched ceiling, with intricately carved pillars reaching up into the darkness. The water smelled fresh and pure - some lost and forgotten part of the freshwater system that supplied the water pumps of the city, perhaps. Torches were set on the pillars, reflected on the water below, creating a place of strange and eerie beauty*

"No masks yet," Romeo said and Devon nodded in response. "Trip's still too dangerous." Romeo moved without hesitation to a small wooden quay that jutted out over the water. A smalling rowing boat was anchored there with what seemed to be a pile of rags in the bow, but when the noble approached, it reared up, revealing a shaggy old man of evil aspect. A crooked claw emerged from the rags and extended towards Romeo.

"A penny for the ferryman."

His original name was lost; he was known as Charon and was content to accept any abuse from his passengers as long as he was paid his fee to row them to Hell. Romeo laid two coins in the seeking hand. "One for each of your eyes to pay the way," he chuckled.

Slowly the boat progressed over the still and silent water, between the vast pillars with their mysterious lights ...

"Water's a bit more brackish than swimming the other night to escape the father of the dancer I met," Romeo jokes.

And then they heard the faint sound of violins ... of laughter and song, drifting over the water ...

Devon's tension was a palpable thing, near vibrating off the young man. He drew in deep breaths, holding them before letting go, seeking inner calm with the sense of one who knows it's there, but is having trouble settling it in around himself. He glanced over at Romeo, offered a hidden grin, and then slowly relaxed. "Anyone in particular I should meet... or avoid?" he asked quietly as the place drew close.

''* See http://eur.i1.yimg.com/eur.yimg.com/i/uk/tr/tg/lp/ea/500x500_ea0750a9104a513661b82d95969b06c6.jpg

and

''

"You never know who'll be in attendance," Romeo admitted. "Novices, those masked as you'll be wildcards. I'd keep you distance there. I wouldn't go off alone anywhere unless you're looking for favors your falling Starr isn't offering you."

The boat nudged against another quay - the one of slippery marble - a dangerous surface, one would have thought, for such a place. The boat was tied to a great ring, held in the mouth of a metal lion that was firmly wielded to the marble.

Devon stepped out, carefully balanced and moved slowly enough not to slip on the slick surface as he followed Romeo.

Romeo pointed out a carved crest over an arch, a lion rampant. "House Ffrench, lost in the civil war," he identified.

They crossed a narrow marble walkway that lined this side of the cistern, and then passed up several shallow stone steps until they came to a low marble doorway, so low that both of them had to bow to enter it. It was carved with fantastic grinning skulls, dancing skeletons and other images of death. There was no door to bar their entry - and inside flames flickered and leapt up, making the archway seem like the entrance to hell itself.

Once inside they found themselves in a small hallway. On all side there were niches in the wall; these contained the urns of long dead members of the lost House, each bearing a carved mask on the side of the urn that was supposed to serve as a representation of the owner of the ashes within.

Romeo drew his mask on, looking to see that Devon followed suit and slipped under the doorway. "I'll do the talking until we get inside."

Devon walked silently, taking in the ghoulish surroundings. Slowly nerves fell away and a cockiness came to his step, sure and almost defiant. From the way the man had been earlier, Romeo could almost be certain Devon was putting on a show, for there was no trace of the earlier trepidation

Opposite there was another arch - also low. The main room or rooms, it seemed, were beyond that. But to pass into this area was not so easy. Two immense guards, dressed in robes of varying shades of red and armed to the teeth, stood before it.

"Who would pass into Hell?" demanded one of them as Romeo and Dev approached.

Devon glanced at Romeo for his cue.

"Fuego and a Novice. He is of my flames, of my fire, of my flesh. Offend him and offend me and burn in turn. Should he offend, I stand for his transgressions," Romeo's voice spoke from beneath the fiery mask. The words had a formal tone, of ritual to them, but Romeo had obviously taken liberty with them, unless everyone was dressed in flames.

Page last modified on October 23, 2007, at 08:39 PM