All citizens, monster and human alike, have a tattoo. Some are small, others are grand. All have, secretly, a drop or two of the boss's blood mixed into the ink. Call it a card to citizenship.

If you don't have one, you'll have a hard time finding your way back in if you leave, thanks to Mana's magic woven around the city. You want to make a deal for a more permanent residence? Just ask around. Someone'll point you right to the 'Nest itself, where Greed will be more than happy to see you.

Tattoos can be any size, display anything you want, and they'll give you access in and out without the need for a tattooed monster guide. But be warned: should you betray that trust, there's a hefty price.

The Devil's Nest matchboxes are the one exception to the rule: hold one, and the way to the city's as plain to you as anyone with a tattoo. You won't need a guide to find your way to the borders.

Matchboxes are one-use only, though: as soon you cross into the city, the matchbox you're using will burn up in your hands. You'll need another one if you want to loop back out and in.

There's an old saying in town: "A light for every moment, a candle for each event. Make sure to choose the right one and its worth is well spent." You might see them one night. Sometimes, it's only one - other times, most if not all the houses in town will have a candle or a lantern lit. The color depends on the situation and if yours happens to ask, someone might be willing to tell you what they mean.

For a fee, of course.

Purple: It means someone is terminally ill, dying, or already dead. These are usually placed on the roof or in the nearest place that can easily be seen. For the people in town, it's a permission for the monsters that live there to take a family member. It's usually seen as a better alternative to burying or, in the event that one of them is sick, some households may opt to use this as a kind of peaceful end. Choosing instead to die at the hands of a soul-eater than spend day by day, suffering out an illness. More fanatic residents may see this a blessing, but those are rarer. Most just consider it just a part of how life is here. After all, what's taboo to others - here? It's just a part of the norm.

Yellow: If yours comes when there's yellow is town, it makes you a lucky fellow. There's something going on - a festival, maybe. Who knows. But it's worth the time to stick around. A lot of shops and businesses will extend their hours if this color's afoot. And boy, oh boy, do they know their avarice.

Green: Alert. This may mean a bunch of things. The Fog may be rolling in, there may be a threat from one of the Gods. Either way, green lights mean nothing entirely good. Followers of either god should take heed whenever these show up. Otherwise, if they're open about their alignment or preaching, they may be rounded up by one of the citizens themselves, looking for some quick cash. And where they'll bring them? Surely, you can take a guess.

Red: Red lights spread like a wildfire as soon as one's lit, and there's good reason for it - it's a warning for the city's own residents. There's something serious going down, something more immediate and urgent than the Fog rolling in or a general alert to be careful. Red means: hide away, and let the city's monsters take care of it.

If you come during the day, you're as likely to see kids in Djävulenstad play Monsters and the Bloody Bones as they are Cops and Robbers. However, in this game, it's the Monsters that are the good guys, the Bloody Bones are the villains. Maybe this isn't all that surprising.

Sometimes, children will get masks or creative with the game. A paper bag that looks suspiciously like one of the Shades in town? A pair of horns made out of cups because their favorite monster is the local Minotaur? Maybe one has some colorful feathers and they're trying their best at a raptor walk.

Feel free to play with them. Chances are, if you're a monster, the kids will really dig you.