A1: Ch10: When it Hits
Samantha strides into the alleyway like she's the queen of this trashy Terminal. She would have been too if given half the chance. A nice little information network wouldn't have been bad: especially during situations like these.
Alas, the younger half of her mind wasn't really for plotting and planning as much as the adult half. She could remember not coming into that talent until she was about fourteen. She breaks the silent stare off between the males with being her bombastic self.
"I told you, dumbasses, that our continued contact was over and that next time I saw you—I'd kill you both." All three of them turn to her, and she lowers her cloak and pulls out the gun she stole from Benny her first night here.
Sabo's eyes widened at the sight, he knows her rules about guns. Don't pull one out if you're not prepared to use it immediately. Her two other clones come out from behind her and stand silently. Though the one on the right is acting a little shifty.
"Especially you, shitty fucking twin, betrayal really does run in the family—doesn't it?" She sneers at Sabo coldly. The statement clearly guts him if his expression is anything to go by, and she knows her brother. The emotions are raw and Vergo will be able to see that if he's as observant as she thinks he is: this is a play though, and Samantha will be the undisputed director.
Samantha DiAngelo understood emotions.
It's what made her a dangerous foe in the streets. She never had the size to intimidate people, but she could follow the threads of thoughts and predict their actions. It's what almost had her usurping Francisco Marino—her former Mob Boss.
The only man she had ever bent her neck to out of fear. The only person she regrets never having a chance to kill. All she needed were those numbers from Ecuador and she would have finished it. That was old news, though.
Unfortunately, the part of her that is Samantha Outlook did not have such a talent: she had repressed most of her feelings as a result of the emotional abuse of her parents, the trauma of rebirth, anxiety, and embracing being a child for once. Samantha couldn't blame her—obviously she would have done the same if she were able to.
"What are you fucking talking about, Sam! We came here to kick this guy's ass because he tried to kill you!" Ace shouts at her. Her emotions are significantly dulled with this shift, it felt like she spent most of her time sleeping and dreaming.
Sometimes this side of her wakes up when Sam uses the fruit for clones or when emotions become a little too much for the kid. The last couple months she's been providing more support than usual. Sam and Samantha are still one—they're just parts of her that are temporarily separated for her to deal with the paralyzing panic of the situation before them.
Emotions can be a truly powerful thing. They can break you or even create you. The human mind is a complex tool that needs regular maintenance, something that Sam has not had in this life: nor did she in her last life. Most of her understanding comes from observation and research. She's being remiss though—she answers Ace's comment.
"And I told you that Vince had it handled! You betrayed my trust, and his authority!" She shouts the familiar name between them, and only them. Samantha knows it's enough to break through the emotion filled haze. He looks shocked, then he calms down and starts to think. Samantha nods her clones toward her brothers: and she hands the first one her gun.
"Take care of the trash," Samantha tells them. They listen to her and corral the struggling boys out of the alley. Her eyes never leave the threat in front of them. She isn't sure how much she can do against some mysterious power some people could just start wielding: Haki seems like such a nebulous concept to her logic.
"Wait! Sam! Don't do this!" Sabo seems to have cottoned on to her plan. She can feel the hope of Sam: that her absence will return his damn sense to him. That he would become the level-headed boy that could take care of himself and wrangle Ace's nastier moods.
"Ma. I'm pretty sure Outlook killed his older brother for the family fortune—it seems that it runs in the family, as well." She fibs to make it more plausible to the pirate before her. Samantha never turns back once to see her brother's expression: she knows it will destroy her.
"Samantha! Don't be a dumbass, and let us help you! Are you gonna be such a shitty sibling?!" Ace snaps at her as he tries to get away from her clone. He always knew more than he let on: it has her lips softly quirking. It hits her where it hurts, and he understands exactly what she's doing. They were far too much alike.
"I suppose you'll have my answer soon enough." She tells him quietly. Her clones use pressure points to knock them out: they haul them further into the terminal.
In the struggle, one of her clones had copied her gun for her and slipped it into her pocket.
"So, you're looking for me? Why?" Samantha asks as if nothing has happened. She casually slips her hands into her cloak and starts to fiddle with the lighter and gun stored there. Vergo tilts his head to the side.
"You're different from what Outlook told us to expect," Vergo comments to her conversationally. His arms cross as he analyzes her and her mood. She had put up with so many of these stoic types, they thought they knew everything. His type are the best ones to fool with slights of hand to catch them off guard.
"Mm— that's because Outlook's a fuckwit who probably couldn't tell you what color the sky is on a good day," Samantha responds casually, but she can feel a strain in her stomach and head. Sam's never had her clones out this long she picks up from the impression from the back of her mind. She also hears faint whispers, but they vanish quickly.
She hears the gunshot, and she clenches her jaw. Violent blood splattered memories raucously enter her mind like a tidal wave. The smells of copper, the feel of sticky red blood nearly gluing her hands to her chest. The gasping breaths: unable to take air down because her lungs were pierced. The second has her mask supergluing itself to her face—just one more and she'd be dead. Gess screaming at her to get down and crawling to her under the hail of gunfire.
The third bullet never comes though, and her lungs fill with air to an almost painful extent when she takes in too deep of a breath. The memory leaves her slowly, but it's fast enough to pull her attention back to Vergo.
He raises his eyebrow at her unexpected ruthlessness, but he's also clearly skeptical. His giant feet nearly stomp on her as he moves past Samantha to see the lifeless bloody bodies of her brothers being tossed into a small garbage pit by her clones. A copy of her lighter is tossed in after them.
The fire slowly builds and Samantha watches it dispassionately: even as her mind races. There is a reason why she stayed dormant within Sam. These memories and emotions had yet to be assimilated properly. Her mind still had some growing until they were completely one. Children shouldn't have these memories, the ones she already has are pretty bad.
She also wouldn't let her break herself with splitting away from the violent memories like she had with the more censored ones. Samantha wasn't okay, and she's sure she could refuse this transfer shit again even if the younger is terrified. She could stick to the clone bullshit she pulled on the kid regularly—though the second Devil Fruit person gave her some weird vibes.
She is just here to maintain a facade that Sam could never. Though, Samantha isn't sure how long she will stay this way. Splitting emotions is never a good idea. The only thing she's really doing right now is maintaining the façade of an apathetic child. After this is all over, she might give the kid some shit for being a wimp, but she's starting to understand all too well where this is going. She's going to need more support than ever.
"Satisfy your curiosity, yet? Now, what the hell do you want? You're ruining my afternoon." She snaps already furious at the plan that lays out before her. Sam also can't stand the sight of her brothers like that, even when they both know it's all a trick. The whining is getting irritating and she dispels the clones.
Her clones snap back to her and it takes everything to stay standing at the ripping in her mind. Her vision cuts out briefly before returning with a throbbing headache.
"Your father wants you back, and also your brother—but I suppose that will be a bigger problem now." He tells her scratching his beard missing the spoon attached to his face. His sunglasses hide most of his expression, so it's hard for her to read. Hell, it's hard for her to even think. It feels like her head is about to explode.
"Yeah, that's not happening. I'd rather live in a dump than go back there—patricide is not out of my wheelhouse if you get what I'm saying." Samantha nods to the burning trash fire. Vergo nods in agreement with that statement.
"You're a very violent little girl, aren't you?" He asks. She can't see his eyes, but she can tell he's watching her carefully. Though she can tell he isn't intimidated by her in the least. It's probably a height thing again. The man was monstrously tall.
"Psychopathy runs in the family, unfortunately. There's probably a little sociopathy going on there as well. The bare bones of it is: he pissed me off one too many times. The strong eat the weak, you comprehend that spoon-guy? It's a sibling eat sibling world out there." She gives him a dark bloodthirsty smirk, and leans in like she's telling him a secret. It's over the top, but she doesn't think he's expecting complete subterfuge for her tiny form. All the better to catch him off guard.
"Creepy." He tells her bluntly. He looks to the sky, she assumes he is checking the time: she isn't sure how that's possible in Gray Terminal. The constant smog and acid rain that covers the place is suffocating: light could rarely pass through the barrier of rot.
"You'll probably have to come with me to headquarters, my boss will be most interested in your power, though. If you impress him I'm sure he could find you a place on a navy ship." Samantha lets her shaggy blonde hair fall over her face and she clenches her tiny fists.
She wishes more than anything that she was actually in Samantha Di Angelo's body at that moment. She had been such a powerful woman, who was beginning to garner respect and knowledge of her own before her untimely death in that shootout. If he hadn't had his mystical Haki power, she'd have already put a bullet in his head for the audacity of even talking to her brothers.
This guy is nearly as good as her with emotions. He knew what he's doing. If she had been any other violent psychotic 6 year-old, they would have likely jumped at the chance of being a Marine. Free access to guns and they could point her at a target—sort of like Rob Lucci: but shorter and blonder.
Samantha knows better though, she can see underneath that emotionless exterior he is holding in a way that Sam couldn't. Vergo wants her gift wrapped, and on a ship to Doflamingo. She'd rather be dead than serve another Mafia Don. So, she drops the act—Samantha doesn't play nice when her freedom is being actively threatened.
"The problem with that, pezzo di merda, is that I don't think you're with the marines. I'd go as far as to say you're a pirate of Donquixote." Samantha states as she wraps her hand around the gun in her pocket. She subtly licks her lip at each corner, even as her mind cries out in pain.
She's completely focused, she might not make it past this night. It doesn't affect her either way. Her younger half is sure she's made a difference with Ace—even if it's a nudge in the right direction. She made sure Sabo was never alone in that empty house. She had done what she could in the small amount of time this world had given her.
Samantha isn't foolish enough to think that she can beat a Haki monster like Vergo, but she can take him off guard. Her threads have already started spinning: it's now time for weaving.
The tapping of shoes stops and Samantha exhales, the cool metal of the gun in her hand is slightly warmed by her own body heat. Everything in her mind is grounded, and she has her objectives.
"Oh, and how would a child like you know such information on an important guy like him?" Samantha relaxes her shoulders and exhales one more time.
"I have my sources," Samantha comments idly as she whips out her pistol from her pocket, cocks it, and shoots as many rounds as possible. The four behind him copy the movement. The splatter of blood across her face lets her know she's at least wounded him. The oozing graze on his cheek tells her just how close she came to a complete headshot. She curses this small body once again for affecting her aim. Her headshots were renowned for their accuracy!
In less than five seconds a haki lined fist is planted directly in her face and Samantha drops to the ground. She can hardly feel the side of her face that's been hit: that's how hard the punch nails her in the head.
Trying to regain her senses, she pats around for her guns. She fails to notice Vergo gripping his haki lined bamboo stick. The pole hits both her hands as fast as lightning speed and it makes it feel like every bone in her hand is broken.
The dissonance returns and Sam screams. She holds her hands close to her chest. Her five other clones are dispelled at the shock and injuries.
"So, you defy the Young Master knowingly. I'm irritated that a shitty kid like you got a couple of bullets in me. But, I suppose that's my fault for not immediately taking you seriously as a potential threat." The man comments as he swings the haki lined pole again, he is so fast Sam can't even track his movements. The pole hits her in her stomach and she feels herself nearly pass out from the pain. Vergo continues his diatribe.
"Do you know how long I've been searching for you? Nearly two years of encountering wall after wall. Trying to balance being a marine and finding you has been a living hell. But I would do anything for the Young Master. I have to wonder, what happened that had you killing your own brother? Why did you decide to walk right up to me, if you're aware of who I am and the contract?" He asks her and the feeling of her hair pulled triggers her memories.
Just admit defeat Samantha—you have nothing to prove. I'm sure Vince will be very proud of you and your determination. We wouldn't want his precious sister to suffer anymore.
Never. Fucking. Again.
Sam sighs and pulls out her last line of defense, knowing the knife she has won't do shit against Haki. Though she isn't sure fire will do much better.
"Oi, shitty spoon-man," Sam whispers, she feels blood dripping down her face.
"You wanna hear a joke," she asks as her dry lips split at the movement.
"It's hardly the time, you creepy little rat," Vergo tells her as they move forward.
"It's a really good one though," Sam assures him as she fiddles with the lighter in her pocket. One last time she promises her protesting body. Her vision is already blurring at the edges. She slowly brings a broken finger to her lips.
"What is it you, demon child!" Vergo demands and pulls her bruised face to his. She grins back with a bloody smile.
"What did the pig say to the baker?" Sam asks. Vergo looks completely confused—perfect.
"Is it bacon time, yet?" She laughs at the shitty joke as Samantha shiftly soaks the edge of his Marine uniform, and quickly multiplies the amount until he's completely soaked. His concerned look down is all she needs. It only takes a moment of comprehension for Sam to flick open her copy. Vergo moves to stop her.
Sam's already sparked the flame on her lighter: she smiles savagely at the panicked look. The flames engulf them both because of how close they are, and it's excruciating. Samantha's already popped at the agonizing pain. It's worse than being shot three times in the chest: also much longer. The smell of burning hair and flesh is also a memory that will probably never leave her psyche. She's satisfied though.