by Kristogar Velo
"Guido!" called the owner of the circus. "Here's somebody you gotta meet."
Eurostar walked over. He was introduced to a man in a suit and tie who introduced himself as Vern Keith. Slicked back hair, perfectly groomed, glasses, smooth talker... looked like a classic Hollywood sleaze.
With Keith were two others, a cameraman and an independent film director, claiming they were doing a documentary on life in the circus. Eurostar agreed to be interviewed in his van. The questions were softball, not really probing into much. In fact, when it seemed that the line of questioning was steering toward the "secrets" of the circus, Mr. Keith would jump in and redirect the conversation elsewhere. Not one question dealt with the condition of the van. Eurostar gave them a simplified version of his life story. The interview came to a close when the crew agreed to let Eurostar prepare for the night's show. The cameraman and director exited, while Mr. Keith slowly slid the van door shut, leaving him and Eurostar alone.
"Can I help you with something...?" Eurostar began.
"You could begin by telling me your real story, Mr. Cicciotto."
The whole group was gathered together in a secret meeting -- Eurostar, M'xy, Nowhereman, Danny, Naecken and Tobias.
"So we're here, Mr. Keith. What do you want?" Eurostar asked.
"First, I'll want you to call me Velo..." said "Keith," who now sported a green costume and mask, "...Marv Velo. Then--"
"Marv Velo?" Naecken asked. The rest of the group was in temporary silence.
"Wasn't that the one guy who--?" Tobias begins.
"Yes, we've already met a Marv Velo," Nowhereman cut in, "that happened to be an obsidian creature with knowledge of the MBL."
"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're referring to," Velo responded. He continued talking before Nowhereman could finish his thought. "But believe me, I am the best friend any of you can have. I will know things that you may need to know."
"Like what?" Nowhereman asked.
"Like the fact that the obsidian creatures that you recently fought -- on television, no less -- lacked oxygen in their blood stream. In fact, if their blood was to come in contact with oxygen in any way, it would cause an explosive reaction that would render a creature unconscious, and make it unnecessary to take its life." The group was quiet. "If you need further convincing, I can recount hundreds of encounters I've had with government agencies relating to metahuman..."
"Which agencies?" Nowhereman interrupted.
"Sorry, I'm not at liberty to say," Velo replied.
"Sounds like you work for them. What do you want with us?"
"I once worked for them, but now I work against the government's ultraconservative control and segregation attempts of and toward the metahuman population. What do I want? Simple. I want to be with you. I see what you 'Sardella Brothers' are in the process of forming, be it a conscious effort or not. It's like a comic book metahero group. I ask for membership."
Outside of Nowhereman, everybody had been almost completely quiet throughout this. None of them were sure of what to think, as Nowhereman was the only one that seemed to comprehend most of what Velo was saying.
"Sure," Nowhereman said, walking over to be face-to-face with the newcomer, "if you can answer one question." After a few moments, Nowhereman unloaded with a punch that sent Velo to the ground. Nobody else moved as the seemingly schizophrenic meta tore off Velo's mask. In an instant, he recognized the face underneath it. "Hmm... it looks like you went under a de-aging ray again, but it's definitely you, old man."
Nowhereman offered his hand and helped Velo make it back to his feet. He then acknowledged the rest of the group. "Ignore this guy's whole cryptically secret deal. He knows what he's doing, and we can trust him. Don't expect him to tell you anything he doesn't want you to know, but he'll watch your back in a fight. Guaranteed."
"Well," Velo continued, never acknowledging Nowhereman's punch or subsequent diatribe, "I was planning on retiring the mask anyway, in a day or two..."
"Ah, yes, the dry wit," Nowhereman said, smiling, "how did I ever doubt it was you, Velo?"
The rest of the group still seemed uneasy. Velo said to them, "You'd better join your colleagues before they realize something suspicious is up."
From the journal of Marv Velo:
Believe it or not, this is only the third oddest situation I've been in on Christmas Eve.
I met up with the Sardella Brothers. Cicciotto was definitely the one who made ripples with a short speech to the cameras. This group seems to have a willing spirit. However, half of the six are suspected by Ron to have multiple personality disorders. Discouraging. They could easily be either marvels or failures in history.
While I was with my crew, I counted at least four other metahumans among the performers, and several others with criminal records. Should be an interesting situation, as everybody has something to hide.
I was wrong about one thing -- it was Danny who was the sixth member, not Beast. The mistake doesn't really mean anything, but I'll have to be perfect in the coming months (years?) for my plan to fall the way I want.
Among them, Nowhereman simultaneously encouraged and disturbed me the most. When it came to leadership, he was overqualified. He was fearless, and, if he wasn't psycho, he'd be trustworthy for his ability to ask what needs to be asked.
However, it was strange when he punched me. The action didn't surprise me (alarms would have went off if one of them didn't take a swing at me), but the way he did it. I almost didn't see it coming. The way he used his weight in the punch -- was a fighting style that I don't think has been used since at least over a century. He also seemed to expect me to roll with it as I did. It was like a pro... like me.
If these six are not the life of me, they will be the death of me.