The line outside Dante's Inferno was long, mean, and as alien to him as the people who stood in it. He'd been to Seattle before, even to this very club, but the sights never failed to astonish. Certainly, he understood dressing for style, for effect, but physical extremism repelled him. Home, they ran the shadows as hard as any, and their colors showed it. There they wore the clothes that suited them, that made their work and their lives easier and simpler. Every policlub had its own look, its special expression, but none of them would ever have considered overt physical mutilation as a symbol of superiority. Customize and internalize, yes. Flaunt it, however, and you were asking for trouble.