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It was a peculiar thing to see the great court of Gehenna strung out with livery for a celebration befitting lords and ladies, but the head of the guard couldn't flee from his own party. Mars was proud of the court, and of the prison below, and if she wanted to recognize them for their hard work then they would simply enjoy the party and be recognized. Not that many of those in attendance truly cared why they were sipping spirits and laughing the night away.

Rayyan, downgraded from his squire uniform, walked the edge of the courtyard with a smile on his face. He felt almost out of place in his formal attire, even more so when he knew he should have been below ground patrolling the catacombs. His suit was a fine cut, sewn to show off his broad chest and wide shoulders, with a long coat in a deep, crimson red that reflected his uniform. The trim was in gold, a touch flashier than he would have picked alone, but at least he had avoided all the lace and frills they had tried to shove on him. He was meant to look like the Squire Gehenna, but without all the armor that generally made people shy away from his person.

And it worked, to his surprise. Although most of them had never encountered the Squire before in their lives, many of them waved him down throughout the night to have a chat over the grand 'success' of the great Courts of Gehenna. He'd even managed to steal a few dances from ladies that probably had never step foot in the courtyard before that night.

He sidled up to one such group of women as they waved him down, smiling charmingly with a mostly untouched drink in hand. The tribal marks across his face always made his smile seem a little lopsided, but no one held it against him even so. It was part of his rough, man-of-duty charm. Though even as he began to tell a tale of thieves and thugs, his bright, fiery eyes kept a watch on his surroundings - from the twinkling stars overhead to the open expanse of columns that acted like a barrier for the grand entrance of the courts.

Some could call it paranoid, but he just saw himself as a man married to his job.

But someone was always paying attention.

As a nymph with wild, crimson curls slid toward the shadows, Rayyan's watchful, fiery eyes followed calmly. It wasn't until he lost sight of her that he excused himself from the group of chatty women (with a hint of reluctance).

If Mars, or one of his superiors, caught him heading into the entrance of the grand courts he would likely be turned away with direct orders to enjoy himself and stop being paranoid. So instead he skimmed a beautiful display on an elegant banquet table, picking up a handful of grapes and claiming a new glass of chilled wine to replace the one he'd been nursing for an hour. All the while he edged back toward the shadows until, finally, he felt close enough to slip through them and towards the entrance of the great Courts.

On a normal day, the courtyard was the entrance - a grand display of finery with dozens of columns and statues, all meant to strike fear into those brought for judgment and awe in those come to see it passed. Tonight it was alive with laughter, dancing and cheer in ways that it was never quite meant to be. Rayyan could enjoy it, but Gehenna couldn't let his guard down.

The tall, olive-skinned man passed through the large entry doors and casually strode through the main hallway. He saw no sign of the stray party guest but turned towards the entrance of the catacombs regardless. That was the only place she shouldn't be, and thus, the only place he cared to make sure she wasn't. He popped a grape in his mouth and struck a casual pace towards the entrance of the cells. There were still guards on duty but Rayyan knew they were likely half asleep in the head office or sneaking glances at the ladies upstairs by this hour. It was just a lucky thing the cells were all but impossible to break through, with their combination of advanced technology and magic.

His thick, curly hair was pulled back into a golden clasp at the nape of his neck, leaving only the solitary thick, black braid hanging next to his face. It kept his bright eyes unclouded and focused as the bright light of the court hallways gave way to the darkness of the catacombs once he passed the main entrance. It was a large archway in the stone, framed in Martian script. The hallway ended there and gave way to a steep set of stone stairs. The walls flickered with something almost like firelight, but at second glance happened to be flowing lava, contained within cylindrical tubes lining the tops of the walls. The heat increased with each step downward and the air grew heavy and harder to breathe. The lava along the wall was just for show, fancy lighting to remind guests and prisoners alike where they were. The heat itself came from beyond the catacombs, a heat so thick that even magic barely kept it at bay. The cells themselves, so far beneath the courtyard, were beneath the lake of fire.

Around him, light danced on the dark walls of the lava-made rock, pitch black and plain except for the few directional markers written in Martian. He didn't know if his stray guest was down here, but he was taking his time inspecting all corners. This was no place for one of those ladies to be.

"It's not riches you're going to find in there, milady." He spoke before he stepped completely into the dim light surrounding the little cell. He could tell by the fading heat of the door that she'd tried to open it, as well by the way she was cradling her palm. "Just a low-life serving a life sentence."

He banged the back of his scarred knuckles against the door to quiet the prisoner inside. His cries were muted and barely tangible, but Rayyan's trained ears could hear the excitement she'd roused in the man, having noticed the flare from the inside and doubtlessly having jumped to the conclusion that someone was trying to break him out. The familiar knock pattern had him silenced in moments and Rayyan was free to turn his attention back to the woman.

"Trying to open the doors without a key triggers the first line of our defense system," he pointed a finger at the hand she was cradling, "and now you're marked as an intruder." He was all matter-of-fact about the information, as if he hadn't just caught her trying to open a prisoner's cell. He rummaged in one of his pockets and turned up a salve. They were as precious as gold on a planet covered in fire and lava and only a fool went anywhere without it, though it was mostly only fools that were silly enough to get themselves burnt inside and away from all the hazards. He half extended it toward her, but then recoiled with it, holding up a hand.

"I'll give this to you if you tell me why you're down here in the catacombs."

Her words made him smirk - he didn't have to be a fancy sailor scout with magic to know that she was telling him the truth.

"I think only those who frequent such parties all the time find them to be boring," but he held his hand out and let her take the salve anyway. "We import that, it should take the sting out and heal over clean in a couple of days. As long as you don't go grabbing any more enchanted doors." There was a hint of mirth in his words, maybe at the reckless abandon she'd used in coming down here.

He crossed his arms over his broad chest, straining the seams of his coat a little. He felt out of place in it and it showed - he would have much rather been in his uniform. For all that it was armor, it was still more free, and he could move better. The fabric of his coat was thick and restricted his range of motion. He was a big man, trapped in a cocoon of finery.

"I can't say I blame you though," he murmured, swinging his eyes up along the doorway, skimming the Martian symbols just legible in the darkness. Then they lighted upon tubes that lined the walls, watching the lava flow like it was burning molasses. "I had never seen a place like this before I swore my oath."

"I'm not on duty, am I?" He shrugged away her question and let his arms drop from his chest. One hand rose and tugged at the collar of his shirt where it rose above the buttons of his coat. The heat of the catacombs was a little insufferable in layers of heavy material. He much preferred the freedom of his armor.

"Though I'd like to know where you're from that lava reminds you of home," he shook his head in a bit of disbelief, though he had been to other planets similar to Mars. He'd been to a lot that were very different as well. He didn't think he would ever quite get used to everything being so very different than Earth, but he was glad of the opportunity and would keep doing his duty as long as there was breath in his lungs.

He motioned for her to follow him though and turned away from the heavy metal door, back down the hallway towards the entrance of the catacombs. It didn't seem like there was going to be any show and tell today. "This is no place for you to be. It's really no place for a party at all, but the Princess willed it and so it is." He didn't really care for it himself and, honestly, was just glad to have an excuse to hide away from the party for a while. As pretty as the ladies were, they weren't easy to charm this early into the night. They needed a little longer to sip on their wine.

"If you don't come to parties like this one, then why are you here, lady?" He threw a sideways glance at her with his bright red eyes, genuinely curious.

He stopped as she touched his arm, stalling just as her words reached him. His bright eyes flickered down to her face and for a moment he simply traced her features with his gaze. She was a pretty, impish little thing with an air of being untamed and wild. Not to mention brave and a little reckless.

"I'm a Knight," he offered, "Gehenna, Squire of Mars." As he finished his introduction, his clothing vanished and replaced itself with his armor, fitting perfectly over the muscle of his body. One free hand reached immediately to grab her own, where it lingered awkwardly in the spot his coat pocket had been. "Head of the Gehenna guard."

His hand tightened on hers until he had a firm clamp on her wrist and his previously mirthful expression had hardened, turned stony. "It's not wise to steal from someone that just pardoned you from trying to break into a prisoner's cell, Lady Vulcan." He gave her wrist a hard tug until he could pull her into a walk, heading back down the hallway where they'd been near the cell door, but didn't stop when they passed it. "But if you're so eager to see what the inside of the cells look like, I'd be happy to show you. You've certainly earned it now."

He simply shook his head in answer, clearly not in the mood to listen to her excuses. Taking advantage of his good will was one way to spark his fiery temper and it wasn't going to get any better until it burned through its course. She just had to hope she managed to last through the end of it.

When he finally stopped dragging her, they stood in front of a door. There were no apparent keyholes but when Gehenna held his hand up, it was clear he didn't need one. He simply placed his fisted hand, and the signet ring on his center finger, into an empty circle. There was an audible clicking noise on the other side of the door and when he removed his hand, the symbol of Gehenna glowed dimly back at them.

He swung the door open onto what appeared to be a very large, empty room, then simply crossed over the threshold and shut the door behind them. The same eerie lava lamps lit the inside of the cell, lighting everything in an orange light. He drew her in and shoved her, not too roughly, towards the back wall. He thrust his hand up once again, pressing it into a carved, empty ring on the wall that would have gone unnoticed had he not known it to be there. As soon as he did, what looked like iron vines began to crawl out of the walls, sides and floor. They grew quick and fast, winding in and out of each other, until they formed an iron barrier between him and Lady Vulcan. Once settled and in place, they were as solid as steel and enchanted to be even stronger.

"Not really as nice as you thought, right?" He was still barely visible through a gap left near eye level, but the dim light of the room threw shadows on his face. If he was still angry, it was hard to tell.

He didn't need her to answer to know that she was less than pleased with her tour of the cell. The look on her face right before the vines locked into place was enough to tell him that she was angry and as far as he was concerned in that moment, she absolutely deserved it. He didn't like anyone thinking they could pull one over on him even if, in the end, she hadn't even known what she was trying to steal.

But he knew something that she didn't: he wasn't actually allowed to keep her locked up.

Sure, he could throw her in here, scare her a little, make her think that she was going to rot in this stuffy, choking cell for days or months. The truth was, however, that as awful as the prison was for the captives, Mars was very big on justice. The prisoners here were prisoners because they'd been found guilty of crimes after an extensive trial in the courtrooms above or, sometimes, the courtrooms of other planets. Gehenna was celebrated not only as a great prison, but as a great court of justice as well. These cells were merely holding cells, the real criminals were under lock and key a thousand times stricter many levels down.

She certainly didn't know any of that, however.

"Look," he began, softly, taking a step closer to the metal vines and leaning against them so he could peer through the opening. His hands splayed across the iron, fingers curling into a few of the openings so he could hold on. "I'll make you a deal, okay? I'll let you go." For a price.