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Veni Vidi Vici	By : Birdie Category: +S through Z > Soul Caliber Views: 2694 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Caliber, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Veni Vidi Vici
- 1
Disclaimer: Cassandra and her family belong to Namco
and Soul Calibur 2. I own all the other characters...
minus religious deities, of course.

A/N: Challenge for �Dude�s� OMC/Cassandra Christmas
Challenge. Not NC-17, but I hope you like it anyway! I�ve tried to make the OC
as evil as possible, which is hard for me because I haven�t written an OC in
over a year now. His name is Quintus of the Junii (he
believes he is Roman), and he lusts after Cassandra. What more is there to say?
Anyway, merry Christmas!

PS. For anyone who watches HBO/BBC�s �Rome�, there is an unsettling resemblance. That lovely TV series is the basis of
my inspiration. O, Octavian! *swoons fan-girly*

Veni, Vidi, Vici
By Birdie (23^rd
December 2005, England)

I remember it clearly: it was a Christmas I will never
forget. I don�t usually celebrate Christmas: what was it besides a scam by the
temple to cheat us out of money? And so pathetically
done too. Frankly, those priests have no idea how to make a profit.

Unlike me. (You knew I was going to say that, didn�t
you?)

Standing on the balcony of my grand administrative
centre I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of the sea; the sweat of the
labourers; the trade of the day; my empire.
Fuck the textile industry of the Asia or the incense business of the Middle East--I spit at your inferiority. Nothing can or
will compare to the corporation of Quintus Junius.

�Master?� the meek voice of my brother came behind me.

�Ah, Cato my dear cock!� I cried, slapping him on the
back (he flinched at my touch; poor man, he must be ill). �How is transport of Egyptian linen
coming along? My customers are crying out for Egyptian linen!�

He gulped and with trembling hands pulled out a
report. �All is going well, master. They should be here on the 27^th...�

My ice-blue eyes narrowed. �Why so late? I thought
they would come at the 25^th.�

�Yes, but you know, being Christmas and all...�

�To hell with Christmas!� I snapped. �Christmas is bad
for business! Tell the men to work through it, we must have the linen.�

�But Quintus--brother--that
is unbelievably cruel...�

I advanced on Cato, striding over with my long legs
and maintaining eye contact with ever step. I pressed the tip of my nose to his
and gave him the most shrewd, dangerous smile I could twist. �And they wander
why I�m so rich,� I whispered. My hands crept up slowly and slapped him hard on
the cheekbone. �And why I am your master! Do not question me, Cato, or that
bitch wife of yours will end up working at the docks again!�

He nodded quickly, grimacing at the thin line of blood
across his face. How stupid of him to forget that I was the one who brought his
wife out of my slavery business in the first place; that I was the one who gave
them their mud-hut at the edge of Athens; that I was, to some extent, his saviour.

�Where are you going?� I asked as I saw him stagger
out of my door.

�I need to go home,� was the wheezy reply. �My wife
may have our first child any moment now.�

I raised an eyebrow and smiled. �Cato, don�t you mean my child?� how casual my voice sounded,
I wondered in bemusement.

For a second there, I honestly thought he would hit
me: the pain and anger in his eyes were obvious. But my brother, being full of
sense and fear, just glared at me and stormed off. I don�t know what he�s so
worried about: I would never touch his wife again. That night in the taverns
was awful, I mean, all she did was cry...

Sighing at all this unnecessary melodrama, I turned my
attention back to the ships. They were loading up amphorae of wine for those
silly temples.

Amidst the swarms of bulky, sweating men I caught
sight of a nymph. Her hair was more golden than a newly-made coin, her legs
seemed to go on for miles and her
breasts and hips were... Oh Venus! This girl had curves in all the right places.

...wait a moment: I know that girl!! How could I
possible forget such a beauty, though the recollection of our last meeting was,
as I recall, not as lovely.

�Well my
dear Ariadne, you seem to be with short of a Perseus! Want to stay with me for a while? This Bacchus has
some nice... refreshments.�

She looked
at me in a manner I was not accustomed to in any shape or form. �Who the hell
are you?�

�Quintus
Junius.� I announced, proud of my heritage. My family had one of the few pure
Roman bloodlines remaining.

�Quintus of
the Junii: the merchant tyrant?� she sneered. �Urgh, you�re definitely not my type.�

Well, that was the first time this �merchant tyrant�
has ever been turned down! The room had gasped in theatrical horror: no one has
stood up to me before. Well, except for my father, but he didn�t say much as he
was found without limbs and floating in the sewers (my work? Of course it was).

Although I was still bitter and infuriated by the last
conversation we had, I found my legs dashing by its own accord down the marble
steps of my office to greet her. Well, more specifically ogle than greet.

I pushed past the workers, sometimes even knocking
them down with my ivory cane to get closer. Nothing can stand between Quintus
Junius and the object he desires. Not even a snotty-nosed little boy.

�Patroclus! By the gods, are you alright?!�

Before I knew it, the demi-goddess
of my dreams had her arms around the child and pulled him to her chest. The
passionate fire in her green eyes matched the ones blazing in my heart (or
should I rather say groin?).

�What the hell are you doing?!� she yelled (even in
her fury her voice resembled a siren�s). Her hands went up and checked the
boy�s hair for any bumps or blood from where I had hit him--seeing there was
none she turned back to me. �Who are you?�

�I am Quintus Junius.� And you know it.

She eyed me up and down and sniffed obnoxiously.
�Patroclus, go back to home. The docks is not safe for a little boy.� All the
while her eyes were on me, and I pretended her hate was an unquenchable lust.

We watched the bratty spawn run away sniffling. My
mind told me that other people were passing us by, shouting and trampling away...
but none of this reached my ears. I could only hear the strained breath of the
girl in front of me.

�The docks are not a safe place for a young lady such
as you either.� I informed her quietly.

She huffed in general disregard. �I have been in many
battles, the docks do not scare me,� she turned away from my slowly to brush
away some dust on her white gloved elbow. �Now, if you�ll excuse me, I have
wine to deliver.�

�To the temple, I see,� I nodded to the cargo. Each
load is precious to me because it brings in the sweet currency in which my
lifestyle depends on (flute-girls and accountants don�t pay themselves, if you
must know). �Are you asking the gods for another child?�

She looked and scoffed. �...another child? Some eyesight you have: Patroclus is my nephew! I�m delivering this sacred wine
to my sister, who is guardian of Hephaestus� temple. I am engaged but I do not
have a child.�

Engaged?!
I felt the breath sucked out of me in shocked.

Wait: what difference would it make? Did Jupiter not
have any queen or sprite he desired? Monogamy did not stop any of the gods, so
why would it cease my plots in the slightest? With my abundance of wealth and
might, I can surely rival the divines of our society.

Besides, I knew about her lover: this dashing young
man who worked as a jeweller and has a body envied by Adonis himself. I believe
he goes by the name of Aeneas. Rather bloody queer, if I may say so...

Even so, deep in the pit of my stomach I realised I
could not physically match him... but nonetheless I will device a plan. A truly
dominant male does not think with his body, but his mind (and occasionally his
cock).

I shrugged. �I must go,� I breathed. �It is nearing
Christmas and a workers� party does not plan itself.�

Suddenly, time seemed to stop dead: the labourers around
me put down their crates so they could frown. �Master... a party?� a man asked
in a dim-witted attitude (I wouldn�t be surprised if his parents were
siblings).

I glared at him. �Yes, a party.�

�Well... thank you, sir!� there were murmurs of
agreement and gratitude among the filthy lower caste.

�Don�t.� I hissed through gritted teeth, jabbing him
with my sharp cane and marching back to my office. My generosity was merely to
buy some time for my scheme, I wish the underlings were smart enough to realise
that my actions will never benefit anyone beyond myself.

~*~

I added more paper into the fire on that nippy
Christmas Eve, growling as I heard the drunken thumping of the workers three
floors down. It was a damnable mistake to let them drink wine, even if it was
as cheap as horse shit.

Accompanied by various grumbling, I added the wills of
the older workers into my hearth: if they want to trample and make a mess of my
building, then I�ll take all their belongings when they die.

�Quintus.� I heard her voice to my side. Without
turning around, I knew her face would be blazing with rage at what I�ve done. I
couldn�t help but grin.

�Yes, my dear girl?� I asked, trying to sustain my
snigger.

She let out an Amazonian war-cry and lunged at me,
grabbing my cloak and pushing me against the wall. �Those graffiti! You did
them, didn�t you?!�

I gasped. �Never! I would not do such things in my
wildest dreams!� Her emerald eyes narrowed in suspicion. Oh, why keep the girl
in suspense? �My men, maybe...�

A palm of her hand slapped my face before I could
finish; it really stung, actually. �They are lies, all of them!� her voice was
shaking, what a silly girl.

�So... Aeneas doesn�t fuck other men, then?�

I felt another slap across by cheek: obviously she did
not agree with my statement. (Why was the blood flooding from my face and into
my crotch? I believe I was turning sadomasochist!)

�And he doesn�t give his arse to sailors for a penny a
go, does he?�

I caught her wrist before I could be assaulted
further; the girl was strong but in her state she was no match for me. She
growled like a wolf, �Why did you do it?�

�Because I believe it is true,� ah, such a lie. My eyes trailed down from her neck to her
magnificent breasts, and I shrugged. �Well, if you want I can get my men to wash the graffiti off.�

Such hope glistened in her eyes, like the way the fire
highlighted her golden hair. The flames made all her features glitter like
molten metal, but she was more than just beautiful. �T-there is a catch, isn�t
there?�

�Smart girl.� I whispered, leaning in to sniff her
scent; the smell of frankincense on her neck was intoxicating.

�What do you want?�

I grinned, showing straight but yellowing teeth. �I
think you the answer.�

She felt my erection on her silk-clad legs and she pushed
away from me, repulsed. �You pig, I would never! You disgust me!�

I shrugged. �Fine, fine,� I turned away from her and
started to pace around the room, knowing her eyes would follow me. �Hmm... I
wonder how this would sound: �Girl found in incestuous relationship with
sister� or perhaps �priestess shames gods by sleeping with sister�, yes...
let�s add religion into it...!�

From the corner of my eye I could see her frown. �What
are you talking about?�

�Oh nothing,� I muttered innocently. �Just thinking
what I can put up on the public notice boards tomorrow.�

�You think... I�m sleeping with Sophitia...? How the
fuck is that even possible?!�

�It�s not whether it�s possible or not,� I told her
slowly, walking back over. �It�s whether other people believe it.�

She huffed. �They won�t.�

�Are you willing to take that risk?�

�I am.� She replied, her voice all full of pride and
confidence. I will break that voice.

I pretended to debate it in my head. �Alright, and
what about Sophitia? A respectable woman with a husband and children, can she take the risk?�

The girl stopped in realisation, and I smiled in
victory.

�Just imagine what your dear parents will think,� I
continued. �And what her husband would say. Her reputation would be shattered,
her name disgraced beyond repair! And it�s all thanks to you...�

�ALRIGHT!� she shrieked, her tanned face screwed up in
aghast. �Alright, I�ll do as you want. But promise
me that you�ll wash off the graffiti and not... ruin Sophitia.�

She was crying: crystal droplets fell onto her blue
collar and she wiped her eyes dry with the back of her hand. If I had a heart,
perhaps I would�ve wept too at her love for her sister.

I pulled off her magenta tie with a tug then started
on the bright copper buckles of her shirt. �I promise.�

She shivered when I touched her, when I caressed her
naked shoulders and felt her silky-smooth thighs under my palm. I kissed her
breasts and licked her hardening nipples; with my teeth I marked this
honey-skinned goddess mine.

I remember she screamed when I entered her, that she
tried to grip the edge of the table in the attempt to hold onto
something--anything--and calm herself down. She was so warm, so tight around me,
I remember moaning: �Oh Jupiter, oh God...� as I thrust in her again and again.
I remember thinking that the foundations rocked, with our fucking and the
dancing feet of the workers below.

She actually begged me to stop, that she took all of
it back, that she couldn�t bear to betray Aeneas and that Sophitia should take
the risk. Just stop Quintus, please, please, please... I chose to ignore her
and continued to indulge in my pride: a winner should gloat his victory for as
long as he saw fit.

When it was over, she laid panting and snivelling on
my large mahogany table. I myself was also rather out of breath (what stamina
that girl had!), but I managed to limp to the balcony and shout for Cato. The
girl frowned and did not move for some time, but when she heard irregular
thumping up the steps she jumped up and began to dress again.

�Yes master, you called me?� Cato asked in a surprisingly
sober voice.

I nodded, wrapping my cloak around nude form for
warmth. �Cato, get some men to wipe away the graffiti we wrote. As soon as
possible too, if you still have foot-mouth co-ordination.�

Cato bowed and hurried down the stairs. The girl watched
him leave and turned to me. �Thank you.� she mumbled.

I replied with a shrug. �The pleasure is all mine.� How true.

I watched her strap on her heavy belt and tug on her
shoes in silence. It suddenly occurred to me that during all this time I did not
even know her name. Then again, did it even matter when she was nothing more
than a pawn in my quest for complete supremacy? A special pawn maybe but
nonetheless a pawn.

�What�s your name?� I asked anyway.

She turned to me. �Cassandra... Alexandra.� She
replied slowly, still debating whether or not to give it.

I nodded and shrugged: it was a good name. She
shrugged back, and left my office as silently as she initially entered. I
picked up the sky-blue hair band she had forgotten on my desk. �Cato!� I
called. �Cato, come here!�

My little brother trampled back up and bowed to me.
�Yes, master?�

�Forget what I said about cleaning the graffiti: the
men would probably fall off the ladders and die,� I told him as I ran my
fingers along the smooth, hard band. Cato acknowledged my order and started to
leave. �Wait!� I continued. �Get some parchment and pen, I have something for
you to dictate while I warm myself up.�

He nodded and went to fetch the writing tools on my
bookshelf. As he set up, I walked over to the fireplace and added more wills onto
the dying embers.

�This is for tomorrow�s publications, alright Cato?� I
saw the outline of his shadow nod. �Well then: �under the influence of alcohol, Cassandra Alexandra betrayed her fianc�
by having sexual intercourse with the merchant Quintus Junius
on December 24^th...�

End

A/N: hmmm... not proud of this. At first, I debated
whether Cassandra would celebrate Christmas (since Sophitia is always ongoing
�gods, protect me!� and Christianity is monotheism). Then I found out that the
Ming dynasty was in 1368--1644 (Xianghua lives in that era), then at least some people in Athens must celebrate Christmas! This may be
fanfiction but I want to still keep it historically correct.

Dude, hope you liked it.
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Veni Vidi Vici