Among local Greek organizations associated with Campaign City colleges and universities, Psi Phi Zeta has a reputation as The Most Tight-laced, Boring Frat Ever. They don’t have scandals. They don’t have wild parties. They don’t have nerve-wracking Rush Week traditions. They don’t raid the Dean’s office or play pranks.
They are “staid” if you talk like they do.
“Lame” to everyone else.
Something mysterious has lit a metaphorical fire under them. Members are making inventive, amateur forays into several metahuman fields at once. Some research ancient legends of artifacts that granted godlike powers. Some visit Chinatown, asking specific questions about rare, old herbal remedies. Some seek out psychics for very unusual queries. And some … some make suspicious deals on the black market, involving mutagenic “enhancers”. Not just the latest edition of Silent Dreams, either, now called Star Gate.
Earlier this evening, the Trenchcoat Brigade disrupted a cobbled-together ritual in a New York University park. They have wrecked a three-way drug deal in the alley behind Tony’s House of Ribs. They investigated several university professors, including one whose connections to these problematic young men was too noteworthy.
Now it is time to take the investigation to the fraternity’s headquarters!
At the PPZ frathouse ….
The hour is late.
Not all is silent! But most of the house’s twenty residents are settled in place: five in the study that other fraternities might have used for a gaming room, three in the kitchen, seven in their beds on the top 3 floors, one in the 4th floor bathroom, and the remaining four work together in the front room to sort some data, or possibly to play some sort of complex miniature battle.
One of the trio in the kitchen gathers up three bulging garbage bags. He checks that his fancy watch is securely in place on his right wrist. Then he heads for the back door.
He is certainly going to the alley that runs behind Fraternity Row, heading for the dumpster at one end of the alley. He will have to pass behind three other frat houses, cross the alley, and unlock a tall iron gate that bars casual entry to the dumpster.
He looks like a pledge: exhausted, always hyper-aware of his posture and clothing, always looking around for higher-ranking members of his organization. He wears chinos, a safety-yellow long-sleeved polo shirt with the fraternity logo on each collar point, a bow tie (with a polo shirt!), and THIS APRON.
(Which is not spotless.)
(And shows some signs of fading in previous washes.)
(And does not fit him well.)