Obscured Secrets
Author note: I do not own 'Godchild/Count Cain,' nor do I own any of the characters. If I did, the manga would have a much happier conclusion, and Cain and Riff would be paired up together as a couple. (I'm sure you CainxRiff fans out there would love that.)
This fic is centered on the DELILAH people (pretty much just the Major Arcana, with the exception of Cassian and mentions of the Cardmaster Alexis), and I'll do my best to keep them in character. They might be a little OOC, but please be patient with me; it is not easy to keep any of those guys in character, especially people like White Owl or Moon.
Another warning: There will be violence, as well as hinted pairings all about (yes, including hinted yaoi and yuri). Let's hope you don't mind any of it. If you do mind, don't read this fic.
Constructive criticism will be highly appreciated, and I hope you enjoy.
Cassandra walked through the dim hallways of the DELILAH headquarters. The Head Priest had gotten back late, and no doubt, he wanted to get some sleep. He was about to enter his room when he noticed something.
Jizabel's room, right next door, had no light peeping out from underneath the door. There was no midnight oil burning, which was odd. Usually, the doctor would still be up late, probably brooding about his hatred of his half-brother Cain or just thinking about what had occurred earlier in the day. Maybe he was asleep...Cassandra decided to check, out of curiosity. Naturally, he walked over to Death's door and knocked.
No response.
He knocked again, and there was no response. Perhaps Jizabel was already asleep...
A note pinned to the wall alerted Cassandra to his attention. He read it silently.
Cassandra, if you're reading this, go to the rooftops.
The Head Priest paused. He supposed that Jizabel must have realized that Cassandra was keeping an eye on him. But...why the rooftops? The Head Priest was curious, and he walked up the stairway.
When he got to the roof, he was in for an unusual sight.
The White Owl perched on a tall pole, violin in hand. Cassian, Jizabel's assistant, was leaning against the pole, staring at the scene. The Trump Card and the white-haired violinist were watching Jizabel and Moon lunge at each other several times, brandishing sharp daggers. The two had a dangerous glint in their eyes as the daggers collided with their skin, leaving jagged cuts on their faces, arms, legs...
And then they stopped moving. And turned to look at Cassandra.
"Cassandra..." Jizabel trailed off. "So you're here. I'm glad, the entertainment's just begun. You didn't miss much."
"Entertainment?" Cassandra asked, confused.
Jizabel smirked. "Of course...I trust you were watching just now? It's a little game Moon and I made up."
Moon threw something to Cassandra, who looked at it. It was a dagger, sharp as a razor. It had a little weight to it, and daggers definitely seemed like lethal enough weapons for stabbing someone at close range. "It's called knife-tag." Jizabel continued. "We basically slash at each other with our daggers, and the more slashes you get on your opponents, the better. There is also some close range barehanded fighting involved as well. Of course, we are going to be injured, but we have our Trump Card to take care of those minor matters. Whoever collapses first loses."
"And what does the winner get?" Cassandra felt fear prickle up his spine. He wasn't sure if he was going to enjoy this game at all...
"Winner gets to do whatever he or she wants with the loser when the loser wakes up." That piqued Cassandra's interest. He doubted he could back out of this, now... "So...how about it? Would you like to...participate?"
"I don't think I have much choice in the matter." Cassandra responded as calmly as possible.
"You're right...you don't."
Jizabel moved fast (maybe as fast as lightning) and slashed Cassandra's left arm. Cassandra recoiled, taking a step back before charging at the doctor, slashing Jizabel's shoulder. Moon wrapped her arm around the Head Priest's neck and the two struggled for a moment before Cassandra shook her off, slashing her cheek. She stabbed his right leg, causing a shriek of pain from the Head Priest, before punching him in the face.
Cassandra pulled back his fist before aiming for Moon's shoulder. He missed, hitting Jizabel. The doctor recoiled slightly before slashing Cassandra's left cheek and kicking him to the ground. Cassandra rolled out of the way, as Moon tried to stab him again, before getting up and bending back as the doctor tried to kick his face. Cassandra stabbed the 26-year-old's leg before he spun, slashing both the doctor and the Moon. (He's getting tired though, he doesn't have enough stamina)
Moon kicked Cassandra to the ground, slashing his right arm. The Head Priest let out a yowl of pain before struggling to get up, before Jizabel stabbed his right palm. The doctor held Cassandra's knife, rendering the 35-year-old helpless as he held it close to Cassandra's throat.
(He thinks they're going to kill him)
Instinctively, Cassandra punched Moon in the jaw before pushing Jizabel out of the way and getting up, grabbing the Moon's knife with his left hand and slashing at her shoulder. Exhilaration rises within the Head Priest as he continues his assault. (He's enjoying this sick game, he really is) He can't believe what he's feeling, because he never thought he would actually enjoy this sort of deadly entertainment. He always thought doing activities similar to this would...be sickening to himself, that he would be disgusted, completely disgusted. (He doesn't realize that they're recoiling for the sake of finding a weak point)
The next thing Cassandra remembered was being slashed in the back before he hit the ground, his vision blackening quite suddenly.
He wakes up to aching wounds and a soft warm bed beneath him. His dark amber eyes gaze around the surroundings, and he is not used to this place. He has never seen this place before.
He inhales the scent of lavender, probably incense, burning. "This is our secret hideout of sorts." Justice's voice is heard as she comes into his slightly blurry line of vision. "My hideout...Jizabel's hideout...Moon's hideout...White Owl's hideout...and now yours as well. The Cardmaster has no idea about this part of the headquarters. No one else but us has any idea about this place." She has a small grin on her face as she says this. (Funny, he realizes, she doesn't have her usual blindfold on) Her light amber eyes bore into his darker ones as she helped him sit up. "Of course, Cassian, Jizabel's trump card, is an exception...he was the one who first found this secret hideaway."
"Oh...so he's awake." Jizabel turns from putting an open novel down on a table to face Cassandra. (Why does he look so calm, Cassandra can't help but wonder) "Don't worry, Cassandra...the wounds will heal. You can thank Cassian for that. You might have a few scars, but...I assure that you'll be fine." (His pretty, long hair is down and he is not wearing his glasses, either)
"Why did you bring me here?" Cassandra finally asks after a moment of silence.
"Well, I think I find it obvious that you need a place for a little more...privacy." Jizabel started. "And besides, it was White Owl who suggested that you join our little crew."
"Of course it was me!" the three turn to see Owl, with his sunglasses deposited on a table as he sipped some tea. "We may as well have him join our mad tea party." He spoke up. "After all, he himself is as mad as a hatter. All of us are, really."
A cold chill crept over Cassandra's back, and he realized he was shirtless. "Where are my clothes?" Cassandra asked, looking away from the others from slight embarrassment.
"Cassian getting you some clothing, he should be back soon." The doctor responded. He extended a hand, touching Cassandra's cheek just faintly. "Oh...it's still bleeding...here..."
Cassandra's eyes widened. Did the doctor just...lick...his face? (Cassandra's face is slightly red, Jizabel just smirks)
"Why so flustered, Gladstone? You're not...usually like this..." Jizabel observed. Even Justice and Owl seem amused by this action.
"Doctor." The four turned to see Cassian walk into the room, accompanied by Moon. He handed a small stack of clothing to Jizabel, who nodded silently, putting it on the bed table. The Trump Card then leaned against a nearby wall while Moon walked over to Justice, the two women conversing with each other silently.
"Cassandra?" Cassandra had almost finished changing when Jizabel spoke up. The two were the only ones left in the room, as Justice and Moon had retired to their bedchambers, and Owl had went out. Cassian had been dismissed back to his quarters to sleep, to prepare for the next day. Cassandra turned to Jizabel, looking downwards slightly, knowing that his upper body was completely exposed. "Do you remember what the winner gets as a reward when they win the game?" Jizabel spoke simply, as if merely asking what the weather was like.
It took a moment for the Head Priest to remember.
"Winner gets to do whatever he or she wants with the loser when the loser wakes up..." Cassandra paused for a moment, his dark amber eyes flashing slightly with fear. "What is it that you want, Jizabel?" he asked slowly, now expecting his penalty for his loss in the game. He knew better than to try to resist the mad doctor. If he did, it would just make things worse.
"It's nothing...deteriorating to your health. Nothing like the game." Jizabel strode towards Cassandra, stopping when the two were only inches away from each other. "It's just..."
And then Death's lips crashed into Cassandra's quite suddenly.
Cassandra wasn't expecting it at all. Jizabel's slender arms wrapped about the Head Priest's waist and pulled him a little closer, deepening the kiss. Cassandra didn't know whether to bat him off with his own hands or let Jizabel continue...
Their lips parted, breaking the kiss as Jizabel took a step back.
"What was that for?" Cassandra asked quietly, looking somewhat annoyed and embarrassed at the same time.
Jizabel smirked. "I would have stopped if you hadn't enjoyed the kiss so much, Gladstone."
"I-I didn't enjoy it! Bastard..." Cassandra trailed off, looking away as his face reddened even more.
A soft laugh came from Jizabel as the mad doctor gave the Head Priest a quick kiss on the forehead. "Goodnight, Cassandra. Sweet dreams." The doctor started to leave the room, a small smile on his face.
"Wait, um...Jizabel?" the 26-year-old turned to face the 35-year-old. "Um..." Cassandra paused for a moment before letting out in a whisper, "I think I'd like to play that game again sometime."
Jizabel's eyes seemed to brighten up in delight. "That's...good." Jizabel responded, nodding a little before continuing to leave. "Just come up to the rooftops any night you want, Gladstone...all of us will be there. And," the doctor added, turning again to face Cassandra. "This exchange is an obscured secret between the two of us, and the two of us only. No matter how far into the mind you may see, there are always one or two secrets that you'll never find. Always." (And Jizabel is right, Cassandra will never find every secret of all the minds of the people he looks into.)
"So...what do you think?"
"What do I think about what, Justice?" Moon responded. The two women were in Justice's quarters, simply downing glasses of wine and exchanging chatter about the previous few hours' events.
"About the game... When Cassandra joined...," the blindfolded psychic responded, removing her blindfold before sitting a little closer to the tan-skinned assassin and swirling her glass of wine. "And you know perfectly well that I'm fine with you calling me Celeste when we're alone, Ida."
Moon took a quick sip of her glass before responding. "It was interesting...I didn't think Cassandra would try to fight anymore when Jizabel held the dagger to his throat..."
"I honestly found the whole thing to be entertaining." Justice took a sip of her wine as well, before putting her glass aside. "But enough of that, now..." one of her hands trailed up towards Ida's mask, tugging at it a little. "I want to see you. I want to see your face. It's only fair since I expose my eyes for you to see."
"Alright..." the Moon paused before taking off the mask and putting it and her glass of wine aside. The moonlight from the window was the only light in the room, illuminating the uneven, scarred features on Ida's face. "Are you happy now, Celeste?"
Celeste smiled, her fingers tracing the scars ever so gently. "I am."
"How long do you play that thing? Every time I see you, you're practically always playing it." the Trump Card asked, looking up at the White Owl. The two stood on the rooftops, Cassian standing on the roof while the Owl stood on a the same pole he had been perched on before when Jizabel, Moon and Cassandra played the game, the Owl's fingers dancing across the strings of the instrument he held.
"It's called a violin, Cassian." Owl responded, pausing in his play to look down at the Trump Card. He then seemed to decide that looking down just didn't seem good enough, jumping down from the pole and smoothly landing on his feet. "And I play it all the time. I play when I want to..."
"Never mind about that..." Cassian paused for a moment. "I still don't understand...why would you even think of the Head Priest joining our little group in the games?"
"Like I said..." the White Owl gave a very wide smile, shivers creeping up Cassian's back. "He is just as mad as a hatter. All of us are. So why should we exclude him from the crazy fun and games?"
Cassian thought if this was Wonderland, White Owl would be the Cheshire Cat, or the Mad Hatter, or perhaps a combination of both characters for sure...
All of them continued to meet on the rooftops or in the hideout, away from the prying eyes of the Cardmaster Alexis. Alexis never knew of the games and talks that occurred there, and never knew of the surreptitious hideaway.
Cassandra became the usual loser of the knife-slashing game, but he didn't mind. The Head Priest came to get used to the penalties everyone else inflicted upon him. It didn't matter to him, just as long as he was allowed to keep playing the game. No matter how long he was kept in a Scavenger's Daughter, how many whip lashes he got, how plentiful the alluring kisses Jizabel placed upon his lips were, he didn't care.
Everyone always played that game at least once every while. The best players in the game kept alternating between Moon and Jizabel, the two being especially brilliant at close combat. Whenever they decided to have teams, Moon and Jizabel would be the ones leading them.
Sometimes the Owl would be crazy enough to accompany the game with the violin, the sickly sweet notes floating through the air as old scars were torn open and new ones were slashed upon skin.
Sometimes the people that didn't usually participate would make bets, on who would lose or win. Justice made quite a bit of money from these sorts of things, and it was Cassian who would lose these bets, although, sometimes the Trump Card would win.
These secret events that all of them participated in belonged to them alone, and no one else would know...the obscured secrets completely hidden from the rest of the world would be taken to their graves.
(But little did they know, that one day, all of that would change.)
Author note: As I mentioned earlier, reviews would be great. Constructive criticism would be even better. I hope you enjoyed this oneshot, and please review!