Wild Card

Prologue

It was a calculated risk.

"Who's this?"

Rosinante inhaled, finding a form of relief from the toxic smoke brought by his cigarette. Even after all these years, he was still as intimidated of his brother as he was as a child. Rosinante supposed, at the very least, he could fake an uncaring mask better.

Red-purple eyes met his brother's blank shades for the first time in fourteen years, attempting to determine what was going on through his mind. Unfortunately, much to Rosinante's displeasure, it seemed his brother has grown even smarter over the last sixteen years and he wasn't capable of discerning a single emotion. It spoke ill will of his ambition to take down Doflamingo if he was no longer an easy to read, emotional child.

Rosinante held back a sigh; what he could see, however, was the madness that lingered in his smirk. Deeper and darker than it was when he was a child.

Doflamingo's question repeated through his head again and again, bringing back a variety of doubts that he pushed down during the trip over. It bubbled up, bringing a whole new scale of nerves to fly through his body.

Why did he bring him again?

His body, however, betrayed none of these feelings. A perfect mask developed over his years of training with the Marines.

Rosinante sighed mentally; it was a calculated risk, he understood that. A risk that, some would say, he was too invested in both emotionally and strategically - which is to say that if he failed, it would be both heartbreaking and the forfeit of his life and mission.

The fact that Sengoku - the Fleet Admiral of the Marines - thought it was a mistake didn't make him feel any better. But, then again, some might say that Sengoku was also too invested emotionally to determine if it was wise or not.

Oh who was he kidding. It wasn't wise. It was stupid. Incredibly stupid.

But that was why Rosinante thought it would work.

He knew Doflamingo better than anyone else, he knew his madness. Rosinante also knew that Doflamingo believed he inherited his father's heart - which is to say what he was risking now meant he fully believed and trusted in Doflamingo.

Because they both knew their father wouldn't have risked his family knowingly if he knew of what the danger could entail. The fact that Rosinante was entering the lion's den, knowing of the danger that awaited, differentiated himself from his father - something that Doflamingo, however, didn't know.

It was one of the only things that Rosinante knew would win him back to Doflamingo's side and earn his trust. He resisted the urge to chew on the end of his cigarette in anxiety and, instead, steeling his emotions, twirled the pencil in his hand, preparing to write down a response.

"I'm Starrk! Donquixote Starrk!"

Only to be interrupted, enthusiastically, by the very subject of the question - and the source of all his anxiety. Rosinante resisted the urge to groan and, instead, thought again of all the benefits that could result from risking everything.

He refused to think of what would happen if his mission failed.

Rosinante almost wanted to smirk at the surprise that bloomed on his brother's face - it was almost worth Starrk ignoring the plan.

Almost.

Quickly jotting down a response to explain everything before Doflamingo spoke or acted on his emotions, he gave his brother the fated note. Rosinante didn't know how Doffy would react towards knowing there was another Donquixote in the family.

He shot an exasperated glare towards Starrk - who, coincidentally, wasn't even looking at him.

"This brat...is your son? He's a Donquixote?"

Rather, like Doflamingo, they were studying each other with interest. Rosinante didn't know whether he should feel relieved that Doflamingo was curious rather than mad or disturbed by how similar his son and his brother looked as they studied each other.

Not that they looked very alike, physically.

Starrk, unlike himself and his brother, had far lighter blonde hair, appearing so light that it appeared white like snow - a characteristic that was passed down from his mother.

Rosinante's eyes hardened; those were memories he didn't like to think of and he quickly shook it off, continuing to study his son.

His eyes, on the other hand, were a deep red (deeper than even his own), revealing the Donquixote blood that flowed in his body. Moreover, Starrk had fair white skin and sharp features like himself and his brother. Covering his body, he wore a gray long-sleeved shirt with a black checkered red vest jacket left unzipped over it.

A red hood attached to the jacket - similar to the one that Rosinante, himself, wore - rested lazily on his head, allowing his long white hair to sprawl near his eyes. Stark's hair was similar to Rosiante's, only appearing to be a bit longer and fluffier, reaching, but not fully covering, his eyes. Simple blue jeans adorned his leg, reaching the black boots that he wore on his feet.

Overall, he looked like a Donquixote - even with his mother's blood flowing through his body.

This was his son. Starrk Donquixote.

He was seven years old.

Rosinante didn't allow his breathing to become labored nor did he let his terror appear on his face; what he was risking wasn't only his life, but the life of his son.

Someone he swore to protect. Someone he would protect.

Rosinante took the cigarette out of his lips, blowing a ring of smoke as quiet reigned in the temporary base of the Donquixote Family. Sharp eyes flicked from the left to the right; no one besides their blood remained in the building - his brother's orders.

They called it a family reunion.

Rosinante chuckled morbidly, thinking of his parents, "That would be true in more than one way if today goes poorly."

If his plan did work, however, then he'd earn his spot back at Doflamingo's side. Rosinante realized that his brother knew he had a soft heart, that Doffy knew that risking his own flesh-and-blood was something he'd never do if there was a chance of his son dying.

But that's why he did it.

Rosinante risked his son to earn his brother's trust. The only question was...Will it work?

Suddenly, the quiet was broken, Doflamingo's voice reigning through the room, "Where's his mother?"

Rosinante withheld a wince; this was a rather sensitive question for the both of them. He could understand, however, how strange it might look if he brought his own son, but not the mother. However, before he could even open his mouth, Starrk answered for him, "Dead."

Rosiante's eyes sharpened; ever since that fated day, Starrk carried a certain weight with him. A weight, a darkness expressed through few words or silence that reminded him of his brother in a way. His son's response, unlike his enthusiastic greeting, was blank, monotone, his eyes an emotionless red.

Doflamingo's gaze returned to his son, staring at him blankly until a large smirk grew upon his face. Rosinante shivered at the meaning behind that hungry smile. Doflamingo's fated words rang through the building, sealing their fates,

"Well then...Welcome to the Donquixote Pirates, Starrk Donquixote."

XxWild-CardxX

Well, here's the start of my newest FanFiction, starring an OC for the first time! I've always wanted to create my own character in the One Piece world, alongside of creating a seemingly shitty Paramecia Devil Fruit, only for it to end up powerful in its variety - similar to the Ito Ito no Mi.

So...Here it is.

Starring the character Starrk Donquixote, Rosinante's son, it will follow his tale as he learns how to fight, hate, suffer, despair, and learns of the madness that runs in his blood. Without a doubt, his family relationship is more than just a little complicated.

Originally when I was creating his character, I wanted to give him a name from the story Don Quixote because that's where all of the Donquixote Family's names were inspired from, but I couldn't find anything that suited my OC.

Then, mostly for shits and giggles, I decided to name him after my favorite Espada from bleach - Coyote Starrk. So...Yeah that's how he got his name. His POV will start next chapter.

Anyways, to move away from the character himself, let's talk about how short this chapter was. Usually, my chapters are around 10k, but, considering I was using an OC, I thought that having a small prologue to dip you all into it would be preferable. I also wanted to see how people would feel about it.

Are you guys interested? Excited? Perhaps, waiting until this story becomes shit so you can flame me?

Nonetheless, please leave some reviews, Follows, and favorites, and let me know how you feel! See you next time!