Work Text:
There’s a knock at the door.
Victoria, from where she’s been lounging on her bed still in her jacket and shoes–what would her mother say–turns her head to the source of the noise and sighs. She begrudgingly pulls herself to her feet, ready to hear the gripes of yet another one of her residents.
But when she pads over to the door and opens it, there’s no-one there. Victoria leans out slightly, looking up and down the corridor. It’s deserted.
Assuming this was a really weird prank by one of the freshmen, Victoria goes to shut the door when she sees the manila envelope taped to the front of it. It’s about A4 size, with VIC :) written in black sharpie.
She pulls it off and shuts the door behind her, walking over to her desk and dropping into the chair. Opens it carefully, like always, and pulls out a folded piece of paper. It’s cream-colored and thick, not printer paper. Expensive, the part of Victoria’s brain that still hangs onto the nice things she grew up with, says.
She unfolds it, not knowing what to expect. In surprisingly nice print the paper reads:
5PM SATURDAY, THE QUAD
WE'LL COME TO YOU
– LDB
Oh. Nothing to do with her residents at all. Victoria goes to put the note back in the envelope when she realizes that there’s still something inside. She upends the envelope, frowning slightly at the black silky fabric that falls out onto her lap.
She picks it up, and groans. “Are you kidding me?”
It’s a blindfold.
Victoria closes her eyes for a second. Reminds herself that this should be a good opportunity, if it’s what she thinks it is. Only curses the day a specific MS4 was born for thirty seconds before she cuts herself off.
She opens her eyes again, and vows to be there ten minutes early.
ONE WEEK EARLIER
“Tate, legal issues. Diaz, crime.”
Samira’s voice rings out clearly across the silent newsroom. It’s a late afternoon in the fall semester, and every member of the Weekly News staff is tense. It’s time for Samira, the editor-in-chief for a record-breaking three years straight, to reveal everyone’s reporting assignments for the year. The golden light shining through the windows and lighting up their humble leader doesn’t do much to minimize their anticipation.
“Ogilvie, science beat.”
“Who? Me? Wow, I would never have thought,” the tall blond cuts in to respond, smiling smugly. Samira sends him a tight smile and Victoria barely manages to suppress an eye-roll. It’s probably better that James gets the assignment he wanted, but hearing his gloating for the next week (and that’s a conservative estimate) won’t be fun for Victoria. Their desks are next to each other.
Samira continues. “Last but not least, Javadi, features. Okay, that’s all folks. Congratulations if you got what you wanted, if not then I’m sorry but we’ve all got to put our time in on things we don’t like. For the good of the paper.”
Victoria weaves around the dozen or so reporters all finding their way back to their desks, heading for Samira where she’s congratulating someone on their assignment.
“Samira! I just wanted to say thank you, so much. I won’t let you down.”
“It’s no problem, Victoria. You did some great work last year, I like your perspective. Looking forward to seeing what else you’re capable of!” Samira smiles.
“Right. I have some ideas already for my first piece, if you’d like to hear them?”
“Okay, hit me.”
“So…” Victoria leads Samira back to her desk, perching on it, and flips open her notebook. “The one I thought the most about was on AI overuse in the student body. I feel like there’s a lot to explore there, with the rights of students being impinged upon when it comes to policing of it by the college.”
Samira nods her head slowly. “I think that’s a solid idea. Lots of potential, a good base. Go for it, Victoria!” With one last dimpled smile, Samira turns to talk to someone else when she freezes suddenly. Victoria leans around her shoulder to see what has stopped her editor in her tracks, and–
“Hey, Samira.” Oh, no.
Samira claps her hands. “Trinity! I didn’t know you were coming by today.”
The object of Victoria's annoyance is leaning casually in the doorframe of the newsroom. She grins at Samira.
"I didn't think so either, but I figured I should swing by, make my presence known, etcetera, etcetera."
"That's great! But I'm sorry, I already gave out all of the assignments. If I had known you'd be here this year–"
Trinity cuts her off. "Don't worry. Really, that's better. I just came by to take a photo to send to the old man, you don't need to find me anything to do." She sits down in the desk across from Victoria. Sends her a smile, tilting her head. "Hi Victoria. Nice to see you again."
Samira's head whips around. She leans in closer to Victoria as Trinity takes her phone out to take a picture of herself, propping her feet on the corner of the desk.
"How do you know Trinity Santos?"
Victoria flushes. It's a good question. She doesn't really know Trinity–didn't even know her surname until this second in fact–but they've run into each other a few times before.
The first time, Trinity and a group of her friends were walking up and down the halls of Victoria’s building. Victoria paused, confused, as they hovered outside her door. One of them, a short girl with long red hair, was saying something.
"I'm sure this was her room. Tori, I think. Yeah, that sounds right."
"Tori? A second ago you were saying her name was Maya." Someone else replied.
"That was before I saw this. And there hasn't been an RA called Maya that we've seen, and I know this was the hall she said she lived in. Put my number, put my number."
Victoria cleared her throat. "Can I help you?"
"No thanks, we're good," one of them said. She barely looked over her shoulder at Victoria, dismissive. Green eyes, dark hair, heart-shaped face. Victoria bristled instinctively.
"Well, you're standing outside my door, so..."
The girl turned to look at her that time. Smirked as she looked her up and down. "Well, okay then. Put my number."
Her friends had run off immediately after, in search of a mystery woman that probably didn't exist, according to Trinity. Victoria liked her enough, but she was also just so annoying. Deliberately, it seemed. Like she knew exactly how to get under Victoria’s skin and liked doing it. The few run-ins they've had in the weeks since haven't done anything to change that first impression.
Victoria shrugs off Samira's question. "I don't know her, not really. She's a member of the paper?"
Samira sighs. "Not technically anymore. But her family's a huge donor, their name's on half the papers across the country."
Victoria frowns. "What, Santos?"
"No, her mother's side. Her grandfather's Charles Beckett."
"Holy shit." That's a name that Victoria's very familiar with. The Becketts own dozens of papers and media organizations and notoriously take journalism very seriously. Charles Beckett is a legend in their field.
"Yeah. So Trinity comes in every so often to make grandpa happy."
"What, she never writes anything?"
Samira sighs. "She used to. We both did our undergrad here, and she wrote a lot then. But she stopped a while ago."
"She's not good?"
"No, she's excellent," Samira says. "That's why it stings so much to see her waltz back in like she owns the place. She basically does, and she deserves to be here too. But she doesn't want to do it."
Victoria watches as Trinity closes her phone and stands up, calling out a goodbye over her shoulder as she leaves.
Victoria's familiar with overbearing family members. Expectations. Feeling so annoyed at the things that people think you should do that you can't bear to consider it as an option.
She shakes off her thoughts about Trinity Santos, and turns back to her computer to start her research.
But the next day, Victoria realizes she's screwed. There are already so many pieces about AI, which she had thought could be useful when writing her background. But then when she speaks with a campus expert and finds out it's not his first rodeo, that he's been interviewed by five other people in the last year alone on this topic, it hits her that this might be a double-edged sword.
Victoria’s in the bathroom in one of the old campus buildings, thinking about this again later that evening.
She's just been to one of the lecture series on developments in GI surgery to hopefully give her mom a topic of conversation better than why Victoria ‘messed up her life’ when she took off two years between undergrad and med school to work out who she was as a person outside of being a genius. She’s settled on still not really knowing who she is, but she's okay with that. She thinks.
She travelled around Europe for a while, and discovered a love for journalism and story telling. How interesting it is to see life through other people's eyes after growing up virtually in a bubble. Realized, thankfully, she did still want to go into medicine when she saw a man collapse on a train station somewhere in Germany and gave him CPR until the paramedics arrived. It's her calling, yes, but not the only thing she ever wants to do. Hence, joining the paper.
She's thinking about this, splashing water on her face and staring at her reflection when a door behind her slams open. A girl, around Victoria's age with dark curly hair and a round face, stumbles out of one of the stalls.
"Oops," she says, giggling as she falls into the sink. She washes her hands quickly and looks up, meeting Victoria's eyes in the mirror. "Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn't think anyone would be in here."
Victoria's eyes fall to the items the girl's thrown down on the counter. A cute beaded bag, which matches the emerald green ballgown the girl's wearing, and a rubber gorilla mask. She blinks. The girl reapplies her lip-gloss quickly, and smiles at Victoria before wobbling out of the door.
Victoria follows her as they both leave the building, and watches with her brow furrowed as the girl approaches a dark SUV. She throws the door open and giggles, yelling "In omnia paratus!" as people shush her and several hands reach out to pull her in. The door shuts behind her and speeds off.
Victoria stands there bemused for a second, before pulling out her phone. She types into her search engine, What does in omnia paratus mean?
The next day in the newsroom, Victoria is still researching. It's early, but she doesn't care; she's found a story. A real one, this time.
"Samira!" She calls out. The editor walks over quickly, smiling gently. "Would you mind if I changed my story?"
Samira shakes her head gently. "Not if you've got something good for me. What is it?"
"The secret societies here. I think I have a story on one of them, one of the really secret ones. Not Skull and Bones stuff."
Samira nods again. "Sounds solid. Lots of potential. Go for it!"
Victoria frowns. "That's what you said about the AI story. Wait, do you actually think that?"
Samira scrunches her nose. "No comment. But still, show me what you're made of and follow your gut instinct."
"Okay," Victoria sighs. She turns back to her laptop. It's open on a page about the group she had mentioned to Samira, who she's convinced she encountered last night. They're supposedly called the Life and Death Brigade. A little cheesy, but aren't all secret societies? There's proof of their alleged existence going back almost one hundred years, but the page theorizes that they're a lot older. This one even has a few photos of supposed members. She scrolls down to the bottom one, the oldest, and reads the caption.
Photo taken c1945. From left to right: Jacob Olsen, Clyde Holmes, Jonathan Devlin, and Alistair Beckett.
Victoria does a double take and rereads the names, looking up at the faces in the photo. Then she smiles to herself. She might have an in.
Victoria’s leaning on the wall, waiting, when she finally sees Trinity walk past. She’s laughing with some of her friends, hair pulled off of her face in a loose ponytail.
“Hey, Santos.” She pushes off the wall, tripping slightly as she does so. Damn shoes. Trinity turns at the sound of her voice and catches her arm lightly.
“Woah, careful there. Hey, were you waiting on me?”
Victoria shrugs. “Maybe.”
Trinity smiles lightly. “Well, I’m flattered. Here on business or pleasure?”
Victoria smiles back, oh-so polite. “I thought maybe I should give you the chance to respond to my article.”
Trinity frowns slightly, pouting. “What article?”
“The article I’m doing on the Life and Death Brigade,” Victoria says. She stands up a little straighter at the chance to knock Trinity off her game.
But instead of being shocked, Trinity shakes her head and sucks in a breath through her teeth. “Don’t really know what you’re talking about,” she says evenly, looking straight into Victoria’s eyes.
Victoria cocks her head. Two can play at that game. “Oh, you don’t? Huh, I thought you would. You see, it’s a society, or a club, I don’t know which term you guys prefer. In fact, it’s one of these super-secret, super-exclusive clubs that we have here. Memberships span centuries, secret handshakes, secret sayings, running around fires in your underwear, that kind of thing.”
Trinity widens her eyes. “Sounds pretty secret!”
Victoria nods, fake-surprised along with the other girl. “Yeah! I thought so too. Anyhow, I’m writing sort of an exposé on this one particular club, and I figured that well, since you’re in it, you might like to have your point of view included. To keep the record straight and honest, you know.”
“I’m in it?”
“Well, aren’t you?”
Trinity shakes her head. “Um, I don’t think I’ve ever run around a fire in my underwear. That’s the kind of thing you would remember.”
“Well, okay. If you say so. I mean, I do have proof that your great-grandfather was in it. Which means that your grandfather was in it, and your mother was in it, and should mean that you’re in it. But maybe not, okay.” Victoria gives a little shrug of her shoulders. She doesn’t care. She’s easygoing. She’s a journalist.
Trinity smiles, amused. “Sorry to let you down.”
“No let-down at all! It would’ve been nice, but I have plenty of stuff without you. Sorry to bother you.”
“Oh, you’ve got plenty without me?” Trinity asks, her green eyes glinting.
“Oh yeah, I have the ballgowns, the girl with the gorilla mask, in omnia paratus, which is a fantastic catchphrase, by the way. Even if you did steal it off of the army. Oh, and I have the license plate on the black SUV, as well as about ten or so other little things. I mean, getting an interview with an actual member would’ve been great, but I’m okay without it,” Victoria finishes, proud of her list of evidence. She watches as Trinity nods, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Oh, well, great.”
“Yep. And, I’m completely onto your routine now,” Victoria adds.
“Wow. You are?” Trinity really does love keeping eye-contact. It’s truly quite unnerving, but Victoria doesn’t want to be the one to break it.
“I am. And I figured, I can just track you and you’ll eventually lead me there anyway. So, hey, it would be easier if you would just talk to me now, but I can do it the other way if you want.”
Trinity raises her eyebrows, smiling slightly. “The other way?”
“Yes.”
“With you tracking me?”
Victoria nods. “Yes.”
“Following my every move?”
Victoria feels nervous, and she knows that from Trinity’s smile she can tell. “…Yeah.”
“Okay then. I pick that way.”
“Oh, but–”
Trinity cuts Victoria off, continuing, “We can start right now if you want. I’m heading back to my apartment; I’ll keep the window open in case you feel the need to sneak in and track me from the inside.”
Victoria rolls her eyes. “Thanks for the info.”
Trinity shoots her a grin, blinding white teeth under a flash of her green eyes. She backs away, walking to the doorway of the building whose wall on which they were leaning. “Any time. And hey, good luck with that article. Sounds like one hell of a scoop.”
Victoria watches as she leaves. What now?
Victoria’s sitting at her computer in the newsroom the next day when she hears a new email come into her inbox. It’s from someone she’s never heard of before, a [email protected]. The email reads:
Hey Crash. I’ve got a proposition for you.
Victoria frowns, confused. Crash? She looks up, and sees Trinity sitting at a desk opposite her, smiling serenely. Oh, of course.
She turns back to her screen, sighing, and replies.
[email protected]: Shoot.
[email protected]: I’ll help you with your article. Get you the inside scoop. You just have to agree to a few conditions.
[email protected]: What conditions?
[email protected]: The first condition is you have to agree before you know the conditions.
She hesitates for a second, staring at her cursor as it blinks in and out. Her reflection on the screen looks adrift. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Trinity type something again.
[email protected]: What do you say, Crash? You in or out?
Victoria closes her eyes for a second, meditating, and then types.
[email protected]: I’m in.
When she sends it and looks up to gauge Trinity’s reaction, the other girl is gone.
SATURDAY, AFTER THE INVITATION
Victoria looks around the quad, nervous. She can't see anyone she recognizes. She takes a deep breath and ties the blindfold behind her head, leaning her shoulder against the cool stone of the wall behind her. Around five minutes later, she hears someone walk up and laugh slightly.
"Come on, Crash," they say, and grab Victoria's hand to pull her away from the wall. She stumbles behind them, before she hears a car door open and a hand on her shoulder, pushing her down lightly.
"Yay, she got our note!" A new voice says.
"Of course she got the note, do you think I put it on the wrong door?" A third person, from behind Victoria says. They sound bored, or maybe tired.
Victoria hears a door slam, and feels the seat dip slightly as someone else sits beside her. She turns her head to the noise.
"So, can I take the blindfold off yet, Trinity?"
"Nope," her kidnapper replies. Victoria can hear the smile in her voice.
Yet another person chimes in from somewhere in front of Victoria. He sounds tired, sighing, "Are we sure this is a good idea?"
Trinity sighs back, even louder. "You wound me. When do I ever have bad ideas? Wait, don't answer that."
Victoria is kind of enjoying this. This is real journalism, immersion in the story. "So... why aren't you guys wearing your masks?"
The voice behind her sharpens. "How do you know we aren't wearing masks? Did you not tie the blindfold properly?"
Victoria shakes her head. "I can hear you clearly, so I figured there's no mask blocking your voice." She hesitates a second, then turns back. Hopes it's slightly unsettling as she says, "This is Joy, right?"
"Wow!" The first voice from the front seat gasps.
"What the fuck," Joy Kwon says, her tone of voice more vibrant than usual. Victoria recognizes her from a group project they were in last year. She did her exact share of the work and then left perfectly on time. Impressive. Victoria's also seen her around campus since then with Trinity, so it wasn't exactly hard to put two and two together.
"I told you," Trinity laughs. "She's smart."
"Ooh, guess me!" The voice from the passenger seat pipes up. She sounds young, with a slight lisp.
"I don't know your name, but I'm guessing you're the girl I met in the bathroom the other day?"
"Yes! Good job. I’m Emma."
"So we're just ditching the anonymity then, okay," Joy mutters under her breath.
Trinity speaks up again. It's a little disconcerting, Victoria is realizing, knowing who everyone is here but not being able to see their faces. "It doesn't matter, Joy. She's not going to mention our names. Isn't that right, Victoria?"
Victoria says, slightly indignant, "Of course! I assumed as much from the blindfold. Can I take it off yet?"
The driver speaks again. "No, sorry. We can't let you know where we're going, that part's actually a secret."
"So then why did I have to put on the blindfold before getting into the car? The license plates?"
"That, yes. And also, Trin has a flair for the dramatic."
"I've realized that, yeah." Victoria pauses for a second. "So just to clarify, that makes you Finn, is that right?"
Joy snorts from behind her. "You don't have to call him that, his name's actually Dennis."
Victoria blinks a few times under the blindfold. "Sure, okay. Is it some kind of secret society code name?"
"No, it's a long story," Trinity says. Victoria feels her pat her shoulder. "Sorry. It won't be a long trip. Wait a second, did I mention in the letter? It's overnight."
"No, I don't think you did."
"Oh, shoot. Well, it is. I hope that's not a problem?"
Victoria thinks for a second about her evening plans. A scheduled facetime call with her parents where her mom will likely spend ninety percent of the time trying to convince her of why she should pick Pittsburgh for her residency, even though that's almost three years away, because it's never too early to think about your options, Victoria!
She shakes her head. "Nope, no plans."
"Weekend free?"
"Free and open." She might regret saying this, but she's committed to getting a good story, dammit! Or at least a better one than whatever James produces.
"You'll fit right in. That's how we like our weekends too," Dennis chimes in.
"And our women," Trinity adds. She hears Trinity lean back, head thumping against the headrest. "Get comfortable, Crash. Finn grew up out in the sticks and he drives like it."
Around maybe three hours later–short trip where–Victoria feels the car begin to slow down. The ground beneath the tires seems bumpy, and she can hear Dennis curse under his breath as he tries to park.
"Okay, we're good," he says after a little while.
"Ugh, thank god," Joy lets out from behind Victoria. Victoria hears several doors open at once, and reaches down to undo her seatbelt.
"I'm not driving back," she hears Dennis say from outside the car. "See you guys there! In omnia!" This last part trails off as she hears what she thinks is several people running off.
"Emma, it's your turn to make sure he doesn't fall off a cliff," Trinity's voice says from the doorway next to Victoria.
Victoria hears Emma breathe in sharply. "Oh, shoot. Dennis! Wait up!" Victoria hears her run off too, and Trinity laughing.
"Sorry about the wait. Here, let me help you." Victoria feels Trinity take her hand and help her out of the car. Her leather ankle boots land on what feels like leaves, or maybe grass. She can hear birds chirping, and some music playing faintly from an indeterminate direction. Trinity's hand is soft and cool where it wraps around Victoria's wrist.
Victoria swallows, suddenly nervous. "I can't take this off yet? Did you actually bring me out here to kill me?"
"Don't be dramatic, Crash. If I were doing that I would've only brought Finn."
"What?"
"I'm kidding. Probably. No, you'll just have to trust me for a little while longer, but then we'll take it off."
"Promise?"
"Pinky promise." Trinity punctuates this by hooking a finger around Victoria's and shaking it up and down. It draws a smile out of Victoria despite her initial worry. She's here to get a story after all, and she's pretty sure one will come out of this weekend no matter what ends up happening.
Trinity leads her through what feels like some trees, then an open path, then some more trees. A few of them hit Victoria in the face at one point, and she does her best to glare at Trinity through the blindfold. From the sound of the older girl's laughter she doesn't seem to be successful.
As they walk, the music gets louder and Victoria begins to hear people too, the sounds of laughter and some yelling fading in and out. Suddenly, she feels Trinity grabs onto her shoulders to stop her walking further.
Victoria feels hands nimbly undoing her blindfold, smoothing down what she assumes are some flyaway hairs messed up from the hours in the car.
"Drumroll, please," Trinity says, and pulls the blindfold away. Victoria has to blink a few times to adjust to being able to see again, and then does a double take at the sight in front of her.
"Woah."
"Welcome to camp," Trinity says from where she's still standing slightly behind Victoria. Victoria turns back to her, speechless.
The clearing in front of her is massive. The sunlight is fading in the sky, and it's lit with lanterns and candlesticks, clusters of tables and white fabric tents dotted around between the trees. In the distance she thinks she can see a bonfire, and what seems to be someone spit-roasting a pig.
"This is..."
Trinity grins back at her. She's wearing a loose chunky green sweater and jeans, her boots a lot more sturdy seeming than Victoria's own. Victoria feels out of place in her outfit of a plaid skirt and neatly ironed white shirt.
Trinity lifts a hand to push her hair over one shoulder. She beckons her head. "Come on, I'll show you around."
Around ten minutes later, after Trinity has given her a flying tour of the camp and pointed out some of the other members of the club, she stops abruptly outside of one of the tents. "This is you," she says. "Settle in, then come and find us. Or observe, whatever you want."
Victoria opens the door–surely that can't be the right term–to the tent. Inside is a camp bed with neatly folded khaki sheets on top, a wash basin, a small unlit lantern in the corner, and a wooden chest.
"Thank you," Victoria says, turning back to Trinity. But she's vanished. Victoria shrugs this off and ducks into the tent. She shucks off her jacket and perches on the edge of the bed. It's a lot more comfortable than it looks.
Victoria pulls out her phone, and winces when she sees that it's only on 25%. Pressing on her mom's contact, she prays for a second that she's still in surgery. Thankfully, she doesn't pick up and Victoria gets hit with her voicemail.
"Hi Mom, I won't be able to call you later. Really sorry, something came up and I might not have any signal. I'll call you tomorrow evening. Give my love to Dad. Bye."
Victoria steps out of her tent a little while later. She's made some initial notes about what she's seen in one of the spiral pads she always carries with her, and has picked up the digital camera that's almost as old as she is that she likes to keep as backup in case her phone dies. Always prepared. She would've made a great girl scout if her mom had let her do any real extracurriculars as a kid.
She spots a cluster of people over by another tent, and walks over to them, hovering by the edge of the group. She notes that they're all dressed in a coordinated manner, shades of white and tan cotton suits, a few in old fashioned hats. Slightly cultish.
“…I concur totally.” One of them is saying. He’s blond and wearing a pork-pie hat.
“Crazy construct, if you think for a bit,” another replies.
“Dubious logic if you ask this thoughtful guy,” adds a tall brunet guy in a cowboy hat.
Victoria chooses this moment to speak. “Hello, everybody.”
The blond startles. “My God.”
“Shocking,” his cowboy-hatted friend replies. They’re both nursing crystal tumblers of an amber liquid, maybe whiskey or scotch. Victoria makes a note in her pad.
“Silly girl. Not adjusting to this proud point of ours.”
“Sad, this diminishing vision.”
Victoria looks between the two men. “Excuse me?”
The dark-haired one tilts his head. “Faux pas count is six, I say?”
His friend nods. “Six, no doubt. I again concur.”
“Point of fact, daft lady. To catch on would prompt our congratulations.”
Victoria raises her eyebrows, smiling. “It’s a game?”
“At which you totally fail. You want for instruction?”
“Apparently,” she answers.
“Said gap twixt D and F shall not slip from lips in any word this group allows,” cowboy hat replies.
“Said gap twixt D and F–you’re not using the letter E?” Victoria loves a good puzzle.
The men all gasp.
“Says this thing our group did banish.”
“Loud, for all to drink in!”
“Daft girl.”
Victoria repeats herself. “So, no-one is supposed to say the letter E?”
The blond frowns deeply. “My God. This woman hounds us with this thing I banish.”
“Dumbfounding,” the other adds, shaking his head.
Interesting, but Victoria’s had enough. She scribbles down a few quick notes, then backs away.
“Um… I’ll catch up with you guys later. Have fun!” She turns to leave, adding under her breath, “If that’s what you’re doing…”
Victoria walks away, bemused. She passes by another group, seemingly speaking in another language–maybe Esperanto, interestingly–and decides not to try to interview them.
A sudden noise from her left draws her attention. It's Emma, wearing a long white dress and holding a blanket around her shoulders. She's spilled a glass of something red over a table laden with glasses and bottles and is mopping at it with napkins.
"Hello, Emma," Victoria says, taking a napkin and joining her.
Emma looks up at her through her eyelashes. "Victoria, hi. Thank god you're not playing that game too. I don't know why they insist on it every time."
Victoria smiles at her. "So, is this kind of thing normal?"
"I mean, I guess? Thomas really has a thing for word games."
"No, the event."
Emma tilts her head and smiles at her. "I don't think I can tell you that. It's not allowed."
"Oh? Did Trinity tell you that?"
Emma shrugs. Take a sip of her drink.
"What's her deal, anyway?"
"Trinity?"
Victoria nods.
"She's a medical student, like you. She's single too, if that's what you were asking."
Victoria sputters. "No. That's not what I was asking. I meant is she like, the leader of your group?"
Emma shakes her head. "Oh, no. We don't have a leader. It's an anarchy." She whispers the last sentence, leaning in towards Victoria. Her dark curls are half loose, brushing over her cheekbones.
"Right."
Emma stands straight up abruptly. "I've said too much. I'm not meant to be talking to you. Sorry, Victoria!"
She walks off, joining another group and linking arms with another girl.
Two hours later, Victoria has gotten nowhere. The only time someone agreed to actually talk to her was a very drunk Dennis manning one of the barbecues. It seemed like a health and safety hazard, but he was surprisingly capable. Still, the only things he was willing to say were asking her about what food she wanted, and he clammed up whenever she started to ask questions about the event. She's taken lots of photos too, and made notes based on her observations, but without any interviews to back it up they seem less useful.
So, Victoria's sitting down on log just off the edge of the clearing, with her back to the festivities. Her boots are slightly muddy, and she's regretting only wearing a lightweight jacket when she left her dorm earlier today. Maybe she could head back to the bonfire, but she doesn't want to be ignored again.
She's in the middle of flicking through her pictures when she hears some branches crack behind her, and sees some light spill over the dark earth in front of her.
"How goes it, pariah? Over here, all on your lonesome."
Victoria looks up at Trinity, where she's standing just above Victoria. In one hand she's holding a plate of food, and in the other a lantern is swinging from her fingers. She doesn't wait for an answer before joining Victoria on the log.
"Here, take this."
Victoria shakes her head. "Oh, no, I ate already."
"That's great. I wasn't talking about the food, it's mine. Take the lantern, Victoria."
Victoria feels her face heat up. "Oh."
She takes it and holds it up to Trinity's body.
The girl grins where she's lifting a fork to her mouth. "Like what you see?"
"You changed your outfit," Victoria says. It's true. Trinity's wearing a combination of what Victoria's seen the men and women wearing. A long white skirt, paired with a white button up and tan waistcoat. Her hair is swept over one shoulder, and her cheeks are pink. Whether that's from the cold or whatever Emma put in the punch, Victoria doesn't know.
"Is this the kind of high-level journalism that Samira's pushing at the Weekly News? My oh my, I am surprised."
Victoria shoots her a scathing look. "I would have been able to do some real journalism if you'd let your people speak to me."
Trinity shrugs. "They're free to do what they want. But it's in all of our interest to keep schtum about things. Wouldn't want anything to leak."
"Then why bring me here?" It's the question that Victoria's been wondering ever since she found the note on her door. Why bring her here if no-one's allowed to talk to her, if she can't get any answers?
"Why do you think?"
"To piss me off."
Trinity smiles, swallowing another bite of food. Victoria watches her throat bob. "Guess again. You did your research, right?"
Victoria hums, playing along. "There's something you think I want to see. The big event. There is a big event, right?"
Trinity simply raises her eyebrows. "If you say so." She puts her fork down.
Victoria continues. “How do you pay for this? Do you all chip in, or are there alumni sponsoring it? And how is it organized? And how big is the big event? And does anyone know that you’re here–park rangers, or the landowner? Are we even still in Connecticut? And answer me honestly, please.”
Trinity smiles, leaning in a little closer to Victoria. The lamplight is flickering, but it’s strong enough to light up her face. She bites her lip.
"I think it’s time we establish the conditions of you being here. Then maybe we’ll get to the questions. Sound fair?"
Victoria nods. Trinity smiles and raises one hand, beginning to count off on her fingers.
“First, no pictures,” she says, extending her hand out and taking Victoria’s camera. She cuts off the start of Victoria’s protest. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it back at the end of the trip.”
She eats another forkful of her food.
“Second, no names.”
Victoria scoffs a laugh. “I’m not exactly being introduced to anyone as it is.”
Trinity ignores her and keeps speaking, smile never leaving her face. It’s like she’s amused at Victoria’s annoyance, which just makes her even more annoyed.
“Third, no physical descriptions of any of us. There are authority figures up and down New England trying to nab us for things we may have done in the past, naughty things.”
Victoria nods. She was planning on doing that anyway. “I’ll keep you anonymous.”
Trinity closes her eyes for a second. “What number am I on?”
“You just did number three.”
“Of course. Fourth, no identification of our location.”
“I don’t know where we are!” Victoria exclaims. Maybe she would if Trinity had answered some of her questions.
“Fifth–”
“You’re going to run out of ‘ifths” Victoria cuts in, grumbling slightly.
Trinity continues, unperturbed. “This is the most important condition of all. You must agree not to interfere with the integrity of the event.”
“But what is the event? And how could I interfere with it?”
Trinity shakes her head. “So, do you agree?”
Victoria sighs deeply. She’s doing a lot of that today. “Yes, I agree.”
“Perfect.”
Suddenly, more light shines across them, and a voice calls from somewhere behind them. "Trinity!"
"That's my cue." Trinity flashes Victoria another smile, picking up her plate and brushing some stray flecks of dirt off of her skirt. She turns to leave, and Victoria realizes something.
"Wait! You forgot your lantern."
Trinity turns back and shrugs. "I can see just fine. I brought that for you, Crash. See you later!" She turns on her heel and steps nimbly up the dark ground to where a group is waiting.
The next morning, Victoria wakes up early. Or at least she assumes it's early. She turned her phone off yesterday and doesn't wear a watch, but the sun is streaming brightly through the flaps of her tent.
She stretches languidly, swinging her feet off the side of her bed. Sighs when she realizes she'll have to wear the same things as yesterday. There were a set of cotton pajamas laid on top of the ornamental trunk when she got back to her tent late last night, exhausted after listening to Dennis' rendition of Auld Lang Syne for the third time.
Victoria puts on yesterday’s clothes and steps outside. Trinity's sitting on a canvas chair, sipping on a mug of coffee. She holds an identical one out to Victoria.
"Thank you," Victoria says. She rubs her eyes and takes the mug. It's surprisingly good, even if Victoria never usually takes her coffee black. After taking a few sips in silence, Victoria looks back at Trinity.
"It's quiet. Why is it quiet?" She asks. Trinity grins at her. Victoria looks her up and down. She's wearing a long, seafoam green dress, which looks like it would fit better in the eighteen hundreds than today. "And you're wearing a dress."
"There's those journalistic capabilities again. I'm impressed."
Victoria looks down at herself. "I feel underdressed."
Trinity nods, faux-serious. "I agree. You should change. Especially because that clothing is going to interfere with the integrity of our event, and you explicitly agreed not to interfere with the integrity of our event."
Victoria shrugs. "I don't know if you noticed, but when you kidnapped me yesterday I didn't bring an overnight bag."
"There’s nothing in the tent?"
“Nope. All I’ve got is a washbowl, pajamas, a towel, and a toothbrush.”
“Oh, is that all you’ve got? Look again, Crash.”
Victoria shakes her head, confused, and ducks back into her tent.
She comes back out ten minutes later. "Is this better?"
Trinity takes her in, green eyes slowly roving up and down Victoria's body as she does a tiny spin. The purple gown she found inside the trunk is beaded across the chest, with a skirt that poofs out from her waist. It's beautiful and impractical and it’s making her slightly worried about what the logistics of the Big Event will be.
"Very nice." Trinity stands up, offering her arm to Victoria. "Let's go."
Trinity pulls her along, weaving through the tents and tables. Victoria starts to hear music again, coming from somewhere nearby.
“Come on, hurry!”
Victoria huffs. “I’m sorry I’m not used to running in a dress!”
“We’re late!”
“For what, the ritual sacrifice? If you’re so worried, let go of me.”
Trinity grins at her over her shoulder but doesn’t drop her hand. She pulls her into another clearing, where the club has gathered. They join the group in watching a dark-haired man, no longer in his cowboy hat, speaking at the front.
“I do declare here gathered, the 129th Grand Assembly of the Honorable Life and Death Brigade.”
The people next to her and Trinity pass them each a glass of champagne.
“Please, raise your glasses. In omnia paratus!” The speaker raises his glass, gesturing dramatically at the crowd.
“In omnia, paratus,” the crowd repeats. Everyone interlinks their arm with their closest neighbor. Trinity tips her glass into Victoria's mouth while she does the same back, trying not to spill any of it down her dress.
A gong chimes suddenly from behind them, and Trinity extricates her arm. She runs backwards into the crowd of people, and shouts back to Victoria, “And to think, some clubs just go bowling!”
Victoria spends the morning trailing around, watching the brigade do increasingly stupid things.
First, the group getting increasingly drunk and trying to dance an intricate polka to a tune played by some of the masked members. There's a fiddle, and a flute, and an accordion. Who can play the accordion in this day and age?
And there’s people playing some sort of blindfolded croquet, the targets getting moved constantly. Victoria gets out of their way quickly before she gets hit with a stray mallet. Moving off to the side, past people picnicking and pouring champagne, she sees an interesting sight.
People are shooting at moving targets. Read: someone jumps onto a pile of gym mats while someone else shoots at them with a paintball gun. One of them is always wearing the gorilla mask that Victoria first spotted Emma in; whether it’s the shooter or the shootee depends on the pairing.
Victoria sidles up behind Trinity where she's watching Joy line up a shot.
"So, is this it?”
Trinity tilts her head but doesn’t turn to look at Victoria. "Is this what?"
"The big event."
"Hmm. Does it seem like the big event?"
"No."
"Then I guess you'll have to wait and see.” Victoria can’t see Trinity’s face, but her cheeks rise up enough to let Victoria know that she’s smirking. Victoria sighs and walks away.
An hour or so later, Victoria hears a gong sound off once again from somewhere nearby. She looks around as everyone walks towards the noise, and decides to follow them.
They're all heading into a field next to the clearing. Victoria stops short when she sees something that had been hidden behind the trees for the last day. It's a tall metal frame, people hanging off of it at various heights tightening bolts and checking ropes. And at its highest point, on a platform, stand four people.
This has to be it, she thinks.
"Hey, Crash. Like what you see?"
Victoria looks at Trinity where she’s come up behind her, questioning. “What are they going to do?”
“What do you think they’re going to do?”
“Please tell me they’re not going to jump.”
Trinity grins. “Gonna jump.”
“But that’s like, seven stories high! They’ll die.”
“We’re all going to die some day,” Trinity says airily.
“But those four are going to today.”
Trinity shakes her head, wincing slightly. “Six.”
Victoria frowns, looking back up at the tower. “I see four.” Looks back at Trinity where she’s grinning wildly.
“I’m heading up.”
“Ah, of course you are.”
Trinity keeps talking. “And Finn was supposed to do it, but he’s too hungover to stand. So… there’s an empty spot.” She bats her eyelashes at Victoria.
“Hmm,” Victoria thinks for a second. Then realizes what Trinity’s getting at. “Wait. No.”
Trinity steps closer. “We’re not going to die, no one in the Life and Death Brigade has ever died. Well, old ones have, but.” She shrugs slightly.
“I am not going to jump!” Victoria exclaims. She can feel her heart racing just at the thought of it. This is not why she came here.
A girl walks up to them, her blonde braid swinging over the shoulder of the linen suit she’s wearing. “Great news! We’re all set.”
Trinity smiles. “Perfect. Victoria, this is Mel, she’s the genius behind all this.”
Mel nods enthusiastically. “It’s very safe. We did a dozen successful test drops, and every potato came through without a scratch!”
Victoria feels her eyes widen. “Potato?”
Trinity and Mel frown at her in unison. “Well, you can’t test using people, that’d be dangerous!” Mel says, walking away and shaking her head.
Victoria shakes her head quickly. “Look, thanks for the offer, but I’m here as a journalist. An observer. Journalists do not participate."
Trinity raises her eyebrows. “Since when?”
“Since forever.”
“Oh really. Seymour Hersh? Woodward and Bernstein?”
“Well, yes, but–”
“Julie K. Brown? Hunter Thompson? I can keep going. They all got into the thick of it, it’s what drove their writing,” Trinity says passionately.
“All right, I get it–so those guys participated. I know that, but I–”
A loud whistle cuts off Victoria’s protests. A voice in the distance yells, “Jumpers to their places, please!”
Trinity looks at Victoria, assessing. She walks even closer, so that they’re so close that Victoria has to tilt her head up to look in her eyes. “You’re scared.”
Victoria laughs. “Well, yeah!”
“And that stops the greats?”
“It’s stopping this great!”
Trinity shakes her head, laughing wryly. “Come on. You look like you need a little adventure.”
“What does that mean?” Victoria retorts, offended.
“You just seem a little… sheltered.”
“Why? Just because I haven’t been in a war, or uncovered Watergate?”
Trinity shakes her head again. Her eyes are a little crazed, Victoria thinks. She starts speaking, desperate and passionate. “Come on, Victoria. It’ll be fun, it’ll be a thrill. Something stupid, something bad for you. Just something different for once. Isn’t this the point of being young? Of being alive?” She takes a half step back, and shrugs. “It’s your choice, Crash. People can live a hundred years without ever really living a minute. If you climb up here with me, it’s one less minute you haven’t lived.”
Victoria looks away for a second, eyes panning back up to the people on the platform. Fuck it, Trinity has a point. Victoria wants to be young, to do something irresponsible and stupid that would have her mother rolling over in her metaphorical grave.
She turns back to Trinity and nods once. Swallows.
“Let’s go.”
Trinity grins wider than Victoria thought possible. “Let’s go.”
They run over to the tower, Victoria reeling back slightly as she sees the makeshift ladder.
“Is this the time to say that I’m not a fan of heights?” She asks, the rational part of her brain repeating some iteration of oh god no / get down now / this is a mistake, over and over.
Trinity sighs. “Yeah, it scares the shit out of me too. You first!”
What feels like hours later, they reach the top of the platform.
Victoria takes a look down, immediately regretting it. “High. We are very high.”
Trinity laughs. “I’ve been higher.”
“I meant distance from the ground.”
“Ah, that too.”
Mel walks up to them. “Don’t worry, this is totally safe. And hey, this goes with your outfit,” She says, tying a sash around Victoria’s waist. It’s attached to some kind of bungee cable. Victoria gapes as people hand her and Trinity both large black umbrellas.
She dares to look down again. It seems like everyone has gathered to watch. Someone shouts something up at them.
Trinity leans in, and whispers, “You can back out, you know. No one’s forcing you to do this.”
Victoria nods. “I know.”
From below, she hears, “Vos ipse parate!”
Trinity nudges her. Victoria looks up at her, meeting her eyes. “You trust me?”
The man shouts, “In omnia, paratus!”
Victoria draws in a shaky breath. Thinks about the promises she made to herself when she turned nineteen and fled from her parents’ house. Of the movies she watches obsessively as a teenager, the romances filled with daring and taking chances. She smiles, taking Trinity’s hand in hers, and breathes out, “You jump, I jump, Jack.”
The crowd repeats, “In omnia paratus!”
Trinity squeezes her hand “Hey, I love Titanic. Let’s go!”
All six of them jump at the same time. Victoria is overcome with regret for a second when she thinks that there’s no chance that it’ll work. Her heart feels like it stops, the only concrete feeling being Trinity’s hand grasping hers.
But then, the cords straighten with a snap, and they’re all lowered slowly the rest of the way. The crowd roars, and Victoria feels weightless, exhilarated, alive.
Her feet hit the ground abruptly. She turns to look at Trinity, their hands still intertwined. They’re both gasping, breathing heavily. Trinity pulls her in for a hug, clapping her on the back.
“You did good, Crash!”
Victoria laughs giddily. “Once-in-a-lifetime experience!”
Trinity shakes her head. Her hair is mussed up and her eyes are gleaming, their color matching their surrounds. She’s in her element. Victoria stares at her entranced as she smiles, and says earnestly, “Only if you want it to be.”
There’s a knock at the door. Victoria’s sitting on her bed, looking at her notes where they’re laid out around her. She gets up, stretching her neck and back.
She pads over to her door, hoping it’s not another person locked out of their dorm. It’s too late for her to care.
But when she opens the door, no-one is standing there. Pops her head out, but again no-one. With a sense of déjà-vu, she looks at her door. A note taped haphazardly on it reads, CRASH :) ↓
Her eyes tick down to the mat in front of her door. She squats down, taking it in.
A bottle of champagne. Expensive, too. Score.
Next is her camera, finally. She turns it on and smiles. There are some photos as well as the ones she took. Ones of her and the group jumping, and some close ups of her and Trinity as they hit the ground and hug.
Last but not least, there’s a gorilla mask. The note taped to the door flutters off, revealing the writing on the other side. In omnia.
Victoria grins to herself. She’s in.