I was planning on releasing it all at once but I guess I'll do it Act by Act.

Voyage Name: Naughty or Nice
Location: Any
Participant(s): Solo or Group
Description: Santa Claus has sent the forces from Christmas hell down to the mortal plain with the only intent to terrorize any soul unlucky enough to be caught in their wake. Whether it's carnivorous reindeer, murderous elves, or snowmen arsonists, Santa's helpers just went hostile. Will you stand up against these monsters or will they leave behind a truly Silent Night come day break?

Lights flashing, people screaming, loud shades of red painting the night sky , if anyone described this situation to you they would instantly think horror, and they would be absolutely right…. But not yet. Klinghoffer found himself blinded by flashing lights that shined directly into his eyes, leaving him blind to what was in front of him but from what he could tell it was a cold and bitter night, shades of red could be seen in the distance among the screams of a large crowd, he averted his gaze from the bright light and looked down at his guitar Layla and realised. In a moment of clarity he remembered where he was, it was a stage, a light jazzy rhythm was being blasted out behind him, along with a keyboard playing complicated diminished chords and a bass played a mellow walking bassline, with that knowledge everything was clear. He looked closer through the blaring lights and saw a huge crowd that was covered in shades of red via flashing lights, this whole crowd was here to see the Six Barrel musician, maybe it was the giant boost in notoriety he had gained from his bounty skyrocketing him into the realm of paradise pirates. A familiar voice addressed the crowd whose voice was projected through massive speakers on each side of the wide stage that the Smooth Criminal stood upon, he looked to his side and saw none other than his good friend Funky G, the owner of a huge club in Water 7 that Klinghoffer had regular gigs with. “What up people of Water 7!!!!! Make some nooooooooooooooooooise!!” Funky G yelled out into the gold plated microphone that he gripped in his hand, the crowd roared in anticipation for the upcoming acts, “Tonight we have one of our newest editions to Funky G’s All-Stars and guest member of the star band from Dressrosa…. Ladies and Gentlemen give it up for Smooth Criminal Klinghoffer and the Crusaders!!


The band burst out into song starting with the drummer who changed his light playing to a groovy syncopated jam, the keyboardist changing to a rock organ sound and belted out a catchy chord progression and the bassist following suit with a slap funk riff in the same key. The Crusaders played tightly and all fit well into a tight knit groove that laid the path for Klinghoffer to take center stage, he took a step forward and started to solo with the blues pentatonic scale followed by some major scale licks and flourishes to spice it up. The crowd was wild, screaming out to the band and jumping along with each beat, this was the musicians first big show, even though he wasn’t the main attraction since The Crusaders were becoming a huge name in the music scene. Debuting as an actual musician gave him a huge boost in confidence as the band played their piece, out of nowhere the stage lights were cut out, leaving the performers in the darkness and the only light being the blood red flood lights that beamed down upon the crowd, there had to be a reason…. And there was. Both Klinghoffer and the members of The Crusaders stopped playing and looked upon the chaos that was unfolding in the mosh pit right at the front of the crowd. A man stood in the mosh pit surrounded by bodies and covered in their blood, among the mosh pit were marines rushing to the front to restrain the man and maintain order, now that the music had stopped and the stage lights had been cut the crowd was silent until their attention was caught by the bloodied man and the gruesome sound of him devouring the arm of one of the corpses that laid half eaten and lifeless on the cold and snowy floor.

From what was one blood-curdling shriek came a whole crowd of screams as the audience broke out into chaos, people running left and right, screaming as they fled the concert, how could something like this have happened? It was the season to be jolly, so who could commit such a heinous act during this time of year, Klinghoffer suspected something demonic but then quickly disregarded the thought, shaking his head as he did. Just the thought of a demonic higher being of some sorts disturbed his very being, but there wasn’t time to waste, as the musician felt a tug on his sleeve he looked to see who it was and once again it was Funky G. “Come on man! We’re all gonna lie low at Groove Central!” he yelled as he pulled Klinghoffer off of the stage and led him out of the venue, Groove Central was Funky G’s club, one of the most popular destinations on Water 7 and the biggest music scene on the island. It was only a few blocks from the venue and was easily identified by the large flashing neon sign above it, they entered the brightly illuminated establishment from the cold, snowy street and onto the smokey and equally neon filled dancefloor. Wading through the sea of entranced dancing people and loud music they entered into the VIP room which was completely unfamiliar to the musician and acted as the polar opposite to the mob that they just cut their way through, it was like Klinghoffer had gone down the rabbit hole and discovered wonderland. Red velvet booths lined the sides of the exclusive area with a stage at the back of the room in the centre, a band played smooth jazz to set the noir mood and for the patrons who all seemed to be relaxing or doing business with one another. Funky G walked down the side of the area into a back room with the Smooth Criminal following closely, as he entered the room he was met by Funky G who had already made himself comfortable in a big padded chair behind a long dark wood desk, platinum records and photos of famous musicians lined the walls along with pictures of Groove Central’s owner with each of them.


“Please, take a seat. I’ll pour you a drink” Funky said to his friend as he walked over to a crystal bottle which contained an aged whiskey, Klinghoffer came to the conclusion that this was his office and sat down on a red velvet couch with gold inlays and scrolling armrests. Funky G poured two glasses and handed the musician one then took a sip from the expensive crystal glass, “So I probably shouldn’t be saying this now but what do you think of the place S.C? Different to the loud front dancefloor that you are used to?” The owner said with a chuckle then sitting back down in his chair. “I love it man, it has a good vibe to-” the musician said but was interrupted by Funky G, “Fantastic! You can come back here any time now, I’ll put you on the list.” Klinghoffer has expected that Funky had a side business considering his status in Water 7 but he didn’t know that it was something on this scale, not only did he spot some of the shadiest men and women in the criminal underworld on his way into the office but Funky seemed to have photos with so many of the most popular recent musicians, he guessed that Funky G must’ve known them personally. “Let’s get down to brass tacks, there was a mass murder at the concert killing 24 civilians and that is on our hands now. I think there is a reason that the concert was attacked and I want you to find out why and stop this from happening again! The reason I’m getting you on this is because a letter came for you S.C, from a man claiming to be your relative though they only left the name ‘Black Dog’, I assume you know who this is.” Funky G spoke in a concerned and stern tone as he slid an envelope off of his desk and landing right in front of Klinghoffer on the polished marble coffee table that stood in between the desk and the couch.

Klinghoffer reluctantly opened the letter, not knowing what might be contained in this mystery shrouded envelope. The message contained inside read as follows:

“Dearest Klinghoffer,
I write this in hope that you are alive and well, the whole family has seen your filthy deeds and are ashamed that you bare the same name as us. Mother and Father are appalled that you would sully the name of our prestigious and well to do family, I hope you are happy with your actions as I’ve heard that you no longer work alone and spread your demise across the grand line. By accordance of the Yamamoto family law, one of the family will be dispatched to dispose of you and sever anything that you care for, the island that you live on, people you come in contact with and any career you have attempted to gain with your commoner music. We sent you to the top music school in the West Blue so you could become a real musician and honour our family, we respected your decision in not joining the family business and this is how you repay us?

You betray our family, destroy a school and its regal family, not to mention soiling their daughter’s womanhood whom now is no longer fit to be married off, stealing their family heirloom and killing innocent people. Your insolence will be dealt with by our brother who is nobler than you, mind you, he isn’t even of our noble blood yet he is still more of a Yamamoto then you will ever be. Consider yourself irredeemable, I sincerely wish that circumstances were not like this but brother you are a disgrace to Mother and Father, Klinghoffer Sterling Cedric Yamamoto, I wish you luck.

Sincerely,

Black Dog”


Klinghoffer hadn’t been called by his full name in a long time, each member of the Yamamoto family had long names so it was tradition among them to use their middle names as an alias. Black Dog was the alias for his eldest brother whom he had a good relationship until he was convicted of an act that had him removed from his music school and disowned from his own family, the musician was an easy target considering he was the only child that chose to pursue a career outside the family business.
“Well, it seems like whoever is caused that attack at the show is from my family, this probably isn’t going to get better for any of us until I put whoever it is down into the ground.” Klinghoffer grimaced at the thought of having to fight a member of his family but there was one that he definitely wouldn’t mind taking care of. “Well my man, I’m not even gonna ask what kinda person Black Dog is and I always wondered how you got that damn stage name of yours. How about you actually start from when you became a pirate man. What’s your story?” Funky G asked Klinghoffer, crossing his legs and resting his chin on his fist.

Way back before Klinghoffer was known as the Smooth Criminal, before his bounty and before his success in the music industry he was the second youngest of the noble Yamamoto Family, known all throughout the West Blue. The young Klinghoffer was rebellious of his family as he didn’t want to follow in all of his older siblings footsteps, instead, he picked up a passion for the music in his teens, his parents then gave him a tutor for him to learn the piano. Around that same time, his family had adopted another son, Osbourne, who was always out for the musician’s head, constantly trying to undermine him and take his place in the family. Once Klinghoffer’s skills on the piano had progressed enough for him to be confident he demanded that he would go to a music school instead of receiving an education from the prestigious elite school that all his siblings attended. Angry but still accepting of their son's wishes, his parents sent him off to the most well-known music school in all of the West Blue, giving him a chance to prove himself as a man. As he packed his bags with a smile on his face and an attitude of hope Klinghoffer walked out of the Yamamoto manor and looked back at his whole family, all wishing him good luck with tears in their eyes but one stood among the crowd that didn’t wave or wish him luck. His adopted brother Osbourne stood there with a shit eating grin, staring at the musician dead in the eye without blinking, dismissing the true evil that was Osbourne he made his way into the music school to pursue his dream. Skip a year after he had enrolled in the school and Klinghoffer’s whole perspective on life had changed, he had been introduced to all of the forms of music he missed out on when he was stuck with his family. He learned about jazz, rock and funk, but most importantly he discovered blues, after hearing the wonders of the blues he changed his ways from the role of a classical musician to being a bluesman, even going to the extent of changing instruments to the guitar.        

Learning the ways of blues, Klinghoffer listened to the blues music that everybody else besides the high society had been listening to, discovering the wonder and soul behind it. Even through his musical journey had only just begun an awful tragedy would fall upon the transitioning musician, one morning he woke up in a completely different place he had fallen asleep. Gathering his bearings he soon realised that he was in a classroom, along with two dead bodies whose blood covered the floor, both were turned over and undefinable unless tampered with. Without paying attention to the bigger picture he knelt down by the bodies and examined them, turning them both over he saw that one being his dearest friend who he had been friends with since they met at the school and the other being a teacher. Both had the mark ‘Oz’ on their necks written in blood, instantly Klinghoffer knew who had done this, however before he could react however he heard a door creak open and a faint voice. “Hello? E-Excuse me, Mr. Royce? Are you in here?” A sweet timid voice called out as they entered the room, the instant the girl entered the room her eyes locked onto the bodies that were sprawled across the floor in the middle of the room. With a loud shriek the girl ran out of the room and ran down the hall yelling “SOMEBODY HAS BEEN KILLED!!” instantly people flooded the room and security showed up immediately on the spot, “It wasn’t me I swear! I didn’t do it, somebody call my parents!” The afraid Klinghoffer yelled out in his defence as his gaze went from the crowd to his crimson-stained hands back to the crowd once more. No matter what he said there was no way to get out of this, The security began to corner him in, fight or flight.

Instinctively Klinghoffer bolted out of the classroom and to the only person in the whole school that he could trust at that point, Layla. He sprinted down the winding corridors until he reached a large door with gold inlays along it, this was her room, she was the daughter of the man that owned the whole school. They had met halfway through his first year, it was love at first sight and they quickly became close friends then recently became romantically, intertwined behind both of their parents’ backs, she was the only person that understood his rebellious acts . Without even courteously knocking, Klinghoffer barged into the room looking left and right for his beloved, “Klinghoffer?! Whatever are you doing here? What’s the matter, are you alright?!” Layla said surprised as she poked her head out from the wardrobe then out to greet him. “Listen, there is no time, I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. I’ve been framed for murder by my brother, I’ll be going away but I will come back for you soon I swear! There is nothing in this world that could stop me from coming back to you, I’ll prove my innocence and I will prove myself to you I swear it upon my name.” The musician said as he embraced his beloved, saying his final goodbyes. “This is too soon, take me with you!” she replied with tears welling up in her eyes. Suddenly the burst wide open and off of its hinges, a group of guards storming in with weapons, “Hands off of Lady Layla you lowlife! You dare deflower such an innocent princess with your bloodied murdering hands!” One of the guards yelled as they edged forward and readying their weapon. “Promise to come back to me okay?! Take this and bring it back to me!” Lady Layla cried as she grabbed an expensive orange and gold guitar from a stand and shoved it into Klinghoffer’s hands then pushing him over to the window. The musician utterly heartbroken and full of rage for his adopted brother, climbed out the window and gave his love one final kiss before descending the building and escaping.


And thus Klinghoffer had been marked a criminal, a thief, a murderer and a tyrant, the rest was history, he deceived his way off of the island that the school was on and out of the West Blue, being labelled as Smooth Criminal. With his only possession being the guitar that he received from Layla, naming the guitar after her and paying for his travels by playing music, it was the only thing that kept him sane during his travels until he reached the Grand Line, traveling from island to island until his funds eventually ran out when he arrived on Water 7. Not the ideal place to be stuck in but a decent place to try and gain fame, the rest really speaks for itself, Klinghoffer had been stuck on Water 7 since and slowly lost motivation over time, only recently gaining hope through his secondary life of being a pirate. Funky G listened intently to S.C’s story as he poured out his heart and explained his whole life to his good friend, “My god, what a tale man… you truly are worthy of the title of both being a bluesman and a Smooth Criminal.” Funky G said as he wiped away a single tear for the musician. By sharing his story Klinghoffer had struck some inspiration and stood up from the red velvet couch, “I’ve gotta go G, catch ya later” he said as he rushed out of the room, “You too man, go catch that bastard...” Funky G said to himself in the velvet room. The objective was now clear, find and catch the vile creature that was the puppeteer behind the tragedies that were about to unfold.

The time had come for the search to begin, Klinghoffer stepped out on Groove Central keeping his head down and covering his face to avoid being noticed by anyone or anything that would be out for him, It was times like these when the musician became a huge skeptic and became extremely paranoid about every action he made. It was still dark, sometime between the night shift ending and the worker bees waking up early to get to work,     even at a time so late in the night as this he was still wary of any and all things that he came across.  The conspirator musician walked his way through the streets, looking out at the docks and the endless sea, distant ships and smoke on the horizon, people coming and going in waves, their lips move but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. It was a sort of comfortable numbness that would usually scare a person, it was as if the cold didn’t affect him and he was in his own small world, just him and the sea, a figure walked towards him as his vision began to twist and turn until his sight blurred all of the dark shades of the night and his consciousness faded into nothingness. His mind drifted through his memories and landing on the feeling he felt once as a child, his fever was blistering hot and neither of his parents was there to comfort him, yet he still felt at ease, as if gravity put no weight on him, this was the same feeling he had been experiencing what he felt to be mere moments ago yet also like it was so long ago. He slowly came to, his vision just as blurry as it was before he lost consciousness but this time the only thing he could see was pure white and a heat on his face, like a lamp being shone directly into his eyes, in the middle of his view was a black figure, they were of slim stature but were of abnormal height for someone of Water 7.


“Hello…?” he heard the oddly soothing voice echo through his head, “Is there anybody in there?” The voice brought him back to his childhood, it sounded like the sweet voice of his mother when she finally came to his rescue, saving Klinghoffer from his own sickness, the voice still echoing through his skull as if it was trapped inside, trying to force its way out, like a feedback loop that grew immensely louder every repetition. “Just nod if you can hear me…. Is there anyone home?” the female voice said, the musician moved his head as much as he could but stopped immediately as the second part of her sentence came out of her mouth, those were the exact words that his mother said as she walked through the front door of his house when he was just a child. Klinghoffer was shocked in fear, his eyes slowly gaining focus as his eyes widened in realisation of the statement’s true meaning, ‘How could they possibly know what my mother said? That’s impossible!’ he thought to himself as the sentence overlapped her previous statements and added to the feedback, only making the pain worse. “Okay, just a little pinprick,” the voice said as the musician gradually received his senses back once more, “There’ll be no more-” the voice continued but was stopped by another entity colliding with them. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” Klinghoffer screamed as the needle was injected into his arm at the wrong spot, due to the collision of entities. Suddenly the ephemeral feeling he had vanished in an instant, leaving only the intense acute pain that reverberated through every fibre of his being, it only lasted a few seconds though, the drowsiness came back and he began to drift off once again, in dulled agony. “Find The Wall….” an unfamiliar voice softly spoke as Klinghoffer floated off into his dream world once more, this time more of a nightmare than a dream.

The nightmare felt like it went on forever, the twisting and turning, the feeling of being stabbed by needles repeated over and over, silence all throughout besides the screams of Klinghoffer that were dulled to his own ears, as if the voice wasn’t even coming out of his mouth. Suddenly the whole thing came to a stop as he rose from the cold and dirty ground still screaming, looking left and right rapidly to survey his surroundings and wiping his forehead, cleaning his face of the cold sweat that trickled down. Klinghoffer staggered to his feet, realising that he was no longer in the the business district but was in a dingy alley in the slums, stumbling along he made his way out of the alley with the help of the graffiti ridden walls and the light reflecting off of a sign that read ‘Baker Street’. He stepped out into the cool night, the wind sending chills down his spine like a bolt of lightning to a conductor, the street was empty, desolate one would call it, not a soul to be heard or a thing to be seen. Still completely disoriented, the musician walked down the street until he encountered a large gang of people step out from a pitch black side street, all but one of their faces shrouded in darkness, the man at the front of the pack held his head high and his top even higher. “Now what is a stray cat like you doin’ around the parts huh?” The ring leader said confidently strutting up to the clearly out of it Klinghoffer, having absolutely no clue what was going on he simply turned around and walked away, instantly bumping into and being knocked over by a solid force, he looked up from the ground and saw a man, in fact he was completely surrounded by the men who rose from the shadows. “What was that now? Though you could escape from us? The Baker Street Gang? Get em boys!” The leader yelled into the snow filled night as he ordered his men to take down the defenceless man, quickly the musician rose to his feet and hardened his right arm until it was as black as the night sky, quickly blocking the slash of a shiv. Bringing his hand down. Klinghoffer threw the man against a wall, knocking him out instead of fatally wounding him, he then reeled his arm back in to block another blow from a different chap, proceeding to send them to sleep as well.


“If you’re looking for a good way to die, you’re in for a treat!” The leader said with a grin as he withdrew both of his hands from his coat revealing two small pistols, then laughing maniacally. Klinghoffer quickly shielded himself with his arms, only having the will to cover one arm in haki, the gunfire rung out into the night as the bullets left the chamber and sped directly towards the musician, one crumpling against the black haki coating but the other piercing the skin and ripping straight through his arm, and flying straight past his head. Klinghoffer began to run at the leader, wincing at the pain as he threw a punch with his left arm which had just endured a gunshot, though weak it still had enough force behind it to knock the man off of his head and to the floor. The musician gritted his teeth in pain as he fought himself to stay on his feet, the group of crooks who stood back from the fight drew their weapons and began to advance on the weak and weary pirate who’s haki had faded. The snickering of the Baker Street thugs was cut by the piercing yell of the leader who the group just walked straight past, “That’s enough lads!” he said as he pointed at his fellow gang members, “I won’t let a single one of ya lay a finger on that gentleman there!”


The completely worn out Klinghoffer was taken back by the leader and his heroics, “but why?” he asked. “Tell me something, strong as a bull you are it’s plain to see…” the leader remarked, “You could have broken my head in with that other hand of yours but you went easy on me didn’t ya?” The gang of crooks all whispered among themselves, astonished at the sight in front of their very eyes. “I’m looking for something called The Wall, you have a family….people that expect you to return from these dark dealings, therefore it’s not my place to cause another’s grief” The musician responded with a shaky voice. ‘He means it don’t he? Wait...he spared my mates’ lives just like he did to me, sure he is a bizarre fellow but a true gentleman through and through’ the leader thought to himself as he looked Klinghoffer up and down. “I wanna know the name of him who spared me” he then asked, “Klinghoffer S.C. Yamamoto at your service.” The man picked up his pistols and put them in his coat and stood up, brushing himself off. “Pleased to meet your acquaintance, if it’s The Wall you’re looking for i have some information for ya but that’ll have to wait, The name’s Pinkerton Gilmour but you can call me Pink” the leader said as he walked over to Klinghoffer and put his arm over his shoulder and began to carry him off.

Haki Use:

Back in his first year of the conservatory, there was a feeling that Klinghoffer would get when he looked to the west, the feeling of loneliness was washed away by the feeling of home that he related to the amber sun that went down westward. Sometimes he would stare at the sea for hours until the sun finally set and there was no more light in the sky, he had nothing else to do anyway, for the majority of his first year at the West Blue Grand Conservatory Klinghoffer had no friends, for a reason unbeknownst to him nobody cared to associate with the upcoming musician. He assumed that it was nothing that he did since he had been treated that way ever since he arrived at that place, maybe it was something that his family had done in the past or something involving them at least, it was around the end of the year when the sunsets got shorter and shorter and the days got less and less daylight. Klinghoffer was not getting anywhere with his piano playing, his progress was slow and not as fruitful as he wished it to be but that was the last thing on his mind. The musician attended a live performance that day that absolutely blew his mind, it was an instrument that was like none other he had seen, it was a stringed instrument but there was no bow to play it with, instead the player used a pick. He was amazed at the sounds created from the instrument and the emotions that you could put into every note, it was like the music was calling out to him like a pied piper.


After the concert was done he made haste to the musician that had just walked off of the stage, “My god that was the most beautiful thing i have heard in my life! Tell me good sir, what is your name?” Klinghoffer asked the student. “Thank you very kindly, the name is Wayward, Wayward Watts. I assume that you are a student too, what instrument do you play…?” The student said politely then insinuated his name, “Oh my, where are my manners...My name is Klinghoffer S.C. Yamamoto at your service, I play the piano. I am deeply intrigued by your instrument, could you teach me about it?” Wayward was taken back by the man’s question and accepted, slightly awed by the encounter, the two grew close and became friends immediately, each sharing their knowledge, Klinghoffer contributed sometimes but Wayward was wise beyond his years in his craft. He composed and performed music of a multitude of genres and styles, Wayward taught Klinghoffer about the blues and rock, how it apparently is the devil’s music and how people sold their soul to the devil for the power to play the blues. By sticking around his new friend, the musician gained more knowledge than he ever had before, he quit everything else and picked up the guitar, learning quickly and playing better than he ever could on the piano, going along with Wayward to his gigs and meeting new people, even sometimes going up on stage to perform with him. And just like that Klinghoffer had lost the stigma of being just a rich kid whose parents bought his way into the conservatory, with this newfound confidence he began to let loose, giving up his uptight attitude and being more friendly to others at the conservatory. The soon to be pirate had so many things to thank Wayward Watts for in his life but there was one that stood out the most, the day he met Layla Livingstone.

Klinghoffer and best mate Wayward were attending a formal ball at which Wayward was set to play that day, Klinghoffer being his plus one. The hall was full of people dressed up for the occasion but to Klinghoffer, this was everyday clothes, a place like this was where he was more at home and what he was used to. Although not exactly sure what the ball was for he knew that it had something to do with the owner of the whole conservatory, which gave him even more reason to be on his best behaviour. The musician danced his way through the crowds of classy high society people that he was accustomed to, introducing himself to as many people as possible until he came across the most beautiful girl he had ever seen standing alone off to the side of the party, with a full glass in her hand. “Now what would a flower like you be doing in the corner of this party? You are far too beautiful to be stuck in this dump.” Klinghoffer said to the girl as he walked up to her, attempting to flatter the woman. “Dump? Flower? And just who might you be?” she retorted, fascinated by the man that stood in front of her, who obviously didn’t know that the party was being held in her honour. “I am a musician, Klinghoffer Yamamoto, I happen to be performing tonight as a matter of fact. What is your name mon chéri?” He was pulling out the big guns, bluffing in hope to impress the pretty woman. “Layla Livingstone, I’m charmed. Oh will you look at that, the show is about to start, I’ll be looking forward to your performance then” she said as a nodded at the stage, where a sharply dressed man walked to the centre and addressed the audience.


The musician felt slightly blown off but at least he now knew her name, he bid her adieu then walked off to find his friend Wayward who was nowhere to be seen, after looking for the whole introduction to the show, Klinghoffer went to the restroom to freshen up and it was at that moment when he heard a familiar voice coming from one of the stalls. “Wayward is that you?” The musician asked as he walked up to the stall, knocking on its door, “Shhhh yes it’s me, keep your voice down!” he said in a hushed tone, imploring his friend to do the very same, “I can’t do it, man, I can’t play tonight.” it was those words that Klinghoffer was dreading the most, “Some bastard broke my fingers! He came in and started accusing me of stealing his spot in the show...what am I gonna do man? They’ll have my head for this man I'm done for.” Wayward said from the other side of the stall door, sniffing loudly and mortified at his current condition. “I-I’ll do it, I can play in your place, you’ve taught me everything you know after all” Klinghoffer responded out of impulse, he knew that he didn’t want to do it, he couldn’t make a fool of himself in front of all these people and especially in front of that girl Layla. But he said it anyway, Wayward opened up the stall and gave him a firm hug then a handshake, “Thank you so much for this! I am in your debt!” Now Klinghoffer was in over his head, he had a whole hall full of people to perform for and a piece that he didn’t know, had he dug himself too deep?

Klinghoffer walked out of the bathroom and turned his attention directly to the stage where a performance was currently being held, it was the very performance that is prior to the one Warward was supposed to play, which was now his responsibility. Which meant that he was supposed to be backstage already, “Crap…. How did I get myself into such a blunder? Gosh darn my sense of responsibility!” The now stressed out musician made his way through the crowd with haste and through a door that leads to the backstage area, in there was a group of well-dressed gentleman, one holding a bass guitar, another holding some drumsticks and the other was warming up his vocal chords. Klinghoffer’s eyes wandered over to where Wayward would have stood but instead, there was a lone hollow-bodied electric guitar, he immediately ran up to it and analysed its beauty, “Gold pickups, maple body, maple neck with an ebony fretboard and a tremolo bridge…. This guitar has to be a Gretsch, just like the one Wayward has!” However, his admiration for the beautiful instrument was rudely interrupted by one of the men, “Uhh excuse me, that is Wayward’s guitar who do you think you are and where is he anyway?” the bassist said, standing up from his seat and death staring Klinghoffer. The man was definitely not in the same year as Klinghoffer, he stood almost half a foot taller than him and stared directly into his eyes, this didn’t scare him however if being one of the youngest in his family taught him anything it was to stand his ground. “Well my good sir it seems some chap broke my good friend Wayward’s precious finger so he sent me here instead, I would introduce myself but it seems like we are out of time. Let’s play well together yeah?” Klinghoffer said sternly as the crowd clapped loudly for the previous act. “Wait what? What’s going on? Who said you could play with The Falcons?” The bassist said as the previous band walks into backstage then out into the public.The musician ripped the setlist from the wall then took a good look to find the song that Wayward was supposed to play, not knowing which one it was he scrunched the piece of paper containing the set list up and threw it over his shoulder, grabbing Wayward’s guitar and walking onto the stage. As he did he was followed by the rest of the band, they all took their places, plugging into their respective amplifiers and setting up their instruments.


The vocalist walked up to the microphone and went to introduce the band, “H-Hello everyone we-” he couldn’t even get through his first sentence before Klinghoffer nudged him out of the way and took center stage. “Good evening everyone! My name is Klinghoffer and we are The Falcons, this song goes out to a special lady named Layla.” The musician says with a sly wink, “Anyways, this song is called Everlong, I hope you enjoy. Let’s kick it boys!” Klinghoffer stepped away from the mic and began to play a smooth sombre jazz song, all of the band members joined in, the drummer playing a double-time swing and the bassist with a slow thumping beat. The crowd was pleased by the performance, he kept the guitar simple as he was not that fluent in jazz on the guitar, halfway through the performance Klinghoffer decided on a slight change of pace.He slid his fingers down the fretboard until he reached the end then began to play like there was no tomorrow, at this point in time he wasn’t the best at the guitar but he sure could play a mean rock rhythm. All of the band stopped and the crowd gasped in fright, out of nowhere there was a fast beat coming from behind him, the first to join him was the drummer, who played a heavy beat to go with it. The vocalist began to sing the same lyrics as before but at a faster pace with a meatier and grungy tone, the last one who refused to play was the bassist who walked off stage in anger. The whole audience was appalled at the change but there was one beaming face that stood out from the crowd, Layla Livingstone, in that very moment Klinghoffer only had eyes for her, as if nobody else existed in the whole room. “Goodnight everyone! We are The Falcons!” The vocalist said as Klinghoffer struck the final chord on the guitar, leaving an electric vibe going through the crowd.


As he walked out into the crowd, the musician searched the crowd for the young lady that he just played for, as he set his eyes upon her so did Layla as she walked out of the ballroom into the open garden that was outside. Klinghoffer walked through the crowd once more, Wayward’s guitar still strapped to his body, making his way out into the moonlit night. Standing in front of him was Layla Livingston under a gazebo covered in flowers and vines, he entered under the gazebo and approached her, “That was quite the performance, you’re quite an unusual fellow Klinghoffer… I like that about you.” Klinghoffer was not sure how to take that, instead, he replied by using the flattery that he had learned as a son of the Yamamoto family, “I am as unusual as you are beautiful, all of these flowers pale in comparison to your loveliness. Never have I seen another like you Miss Layla.” She giggled in a cute way that made the musician blush, her very existence made his whole being smile with glee, Layla found it funny that he didn’t actually know who she was but that just proved that he liked her for who she was not where she came from. The two instantly talked the whole night away and it wouldn’t have gone as smooth as it did without his dear friend Wayward, Klinghoffer would often look back on this night and think about how he was the luckiest man in the whole wide world.

With sweat running down his face like a waterfall, Klinghoffer rose up from a familiar couch, he had spent many nights sleeping on this couch on a multitude of different occasions. It was obvious that this was Mai’s ‘doctor’s surgery’, she worked out of her house which was the back area of a dingy out of order pub that was permanently closed. Mai was at the door, leaving immediately and calling for somebody who was outside, in walked the man whom he was just in a large scuffle with, Pink. “Good day there mate, I see that your gunshot wound has healed well with the help of Mai’s jolly good medicine. Look, If I had known that you knew was a gentleman, or that you knew Mai I wouldn’t have done what I had.” he said it with a sincerity that was rare on the streets of Water 7, tipping his top hat as he did. “Well Mai and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms right now, we had a little fight about some pirate things.” Klinghoffer said as he looked over at the woman peering into the room who immediately slammed it shut as the musician glanced at her, their fallout seemed to be related to her declining to join the Six Barrel Pirates, yet no matter how much she didn’t like the way he acted she still accepted him with open arms whenever he came to her beaten and battered, scolding him motherly or giving him the silent treatment whenever they interacted. “So It seems that you are looking for the wall huh? So you’ve connected the dots between the killings-” Pink spoke but Klinghoffer cut him off as soon as he said plural for killings. “Did you just say killings? As in multiple?! When was the first one?” he asked anxiously. Pink fidgeted a bit and thought deeply, “Maybe a week or two ago? It was at a concert, lately, the town has been overrun with killing machines that people are calling vampires, enacting the righteous justice of the demon Santa Claus. You have been out of it for about a week and a half now, you seemed like you were already physically weak when we brought you here, what had you been doing before?”


Klinghoffer completely ignored the question in realisation that his concert was a whole two weeks ago, he lost time between the first vampire killing at his concert and when he ran into Pink, It seems that his trips down memory lane weren’t just short dreams but were recreations in his mind over the span of days when he was unconscious. He had been losing time recently up until that point but the two most recent ones had unusual things tied to them as if the power that held him in comatose was getting stronger. “You know where the wall is then? Take me to it, I need to end this once and for all, your services will be rewarded Pink my friend I swear it.” The musician said to his saviour who politely agreed, helping him off of the couch and onto his feet, walking with him until he had the strength to stand on his own. He limped his way out of the makeshift doctor's surgery, giving Mai a smile as if to say ‘thanks once again for saving my life’, the pair walked out into the streets of the slums, it was dusk once more, meaning that the vampires were out to play. Pink led the musician through the slums and into an abandoned district of town, “In here is where the wall is, you see that giant tower?” Pink spoke as he pointed to a stone tower that was erected in the middle of the district, “They say that at the top of the tower is The Wall, many people have gone in to find it but none have come out ali-AHH!” the gentleman with a top hat had tripped over something, or perhaps someone. When he looked back he noticed that there was a hand grasping his leg, it was half of a decaying corpse, whole from the torso up, complete with fangs, pale skin, and blood dripping out of its mouth as it growled demonically. Klinghoffer stomped his foot down on the crawling monster’s head, crushing it’s already feeble, decaying skull. He leaned down to examine the body, immediately lifting the dead vampire’s collar up and revealing a mark carved out of its flesh on their neck that read “Oz”. It was him, back from Klinghoffer’s past to haunt him, Osbourne was back. He ripped the vampire’s grip off of Pink and pulled him up onto his feet, both of them now looking up at the shadowy tower. His goal was now clear, the musician wasn’t sure how but Osbourne was behind the vampires that were running rampant in Water 7, to end the terror of the vampires that ruined the season to be jolly, he had to end the life of Oz.

Oz was the only thing on Klinghoffer’s mind, even as they approached the vine-covered stone tower he could only think of the number of times Osbourne had ruined his life, he did not know the how or why but tonight was when he would stop the evil bastard from ever doing this again. Pink and the musician shared their experiences, Pink even shared his knowledge of the vampire army and what was going on. The way he told it, they didn’t ever come in contact with sunlight and the only way to become one yourself is to die by being bitten by another, the two didn’t talk much after that, the topic left a sour aftertaste in their mouths as the reached the foot of the tower. “Well here it is, what now Klinghoffer?” Pink said as he turned to the musician awaiting his orders, Klinghoffer looked back at him scanning the tower up and down with his eyes, “We ascend, I can’t leave you here.” The musician placed his hand on the door knob attempting to open it, instead it snapped off and the door creaked open slowly, the light now flooding into the obviously Vitamin D deficient room. Not bothering to question the Smooth Criminal’s reasoning he followed him inside and as they entered it took a few seconds of the pair standing in darkness until a fire was suddenly lit at the bottom of what seemed to be a staircase draped with a red carpet, followed by more and more lights one after another being lit up lining the rail of the staircase. “Seems like it’s the only way up” Klinghoffer stated as he began to climb the spiraling staircase, the ominous mood loomed over them, feeling the stairs beneath their very feet creak. Little dots of red that came in pairs sprouted out from the shadows as they climbed higher and higher, it seemed that they were being watched but nothing was happening, the eyes just kept staring, making no advances at all.


After being thoroughly frightened by all of the devilish red eyes, Pink and Klinghoffer reached the top of the stairwell ending the constant spiraling the felt like it went on for hours. As the two walked out onto the rooftop their advances were stopped by a demonic creature, leaping out from the darkness and attempting to kill Klinghoffer with his sharpened claws, “I’ll end this for you Lord Oz!” it growled with a monstrous snarl. But in the instant that it appeared it was gone the next, before it could even get close to him it was struck down by an unknown force, sliced in two as the body dropped to the floor and poured out its tainted blood. “What did i say about our guests hmm??” A deep voice said as an elongated shadowy figure walked out from the darkness, shaking its head in disappointment. “This man is my family and the only thing standing in my way of reaching my goal, so I’ll say it one more time….The only person who is allowed to kill Klinghoffer S.C. Yamamoto IS ME!!” the voice screamed then laughed maniacally as they lifted their head into the moonlight, revealing none other that Osbourne or it seemed as he was known now, Oz. Osbourne was an extremely tall fellow clocking in at around 6 foot 7, he was clad in expensive West Blue hand-tailored clothing similar to that of the Victorian style clothing, the black and red of his cloak and suit vest contrasted his extremely pale skin making it look almost white.

“Now before you go getting your panties in a knot Brother allow me to explain all of this, as I was meticulously planning how I could end your measly existence and finally take my rightful place in the Yamamoto family, I ran into a blessing and a curse. Before me stood the scariest this a man could witness, his fiery red eyes and long white beard, everything you have heard of that is demonic falls short to how truly terrifying this man was. He called himself Santa Claus and he presented me with an opportunity, an opportunity to gain all the power and then some to crush you, in exchange for my soul he gave me infinite power and rule over the night. With this newfound gift I set out to destroy the whole world, I decided to give you a little warning, by slaughtering your dearest friend and having his murder pinned on you, but that wouldn’t satisfy my hunger anymore, I yearned for something more than just claiming your title….I want your life. That was when I came across this, The Wall…. It gave me their power to resurrect the dead and lead my army to enact justice upon thee, feast your eyes upon it. I give you…. The Wall!” Osbourne spoke, his voice warped and demented as he raised his arms and as he did, clouds parted in the sky, revealing a giant stone brick wall covered in blood, bits of flesh and organ scattered all along it, dripping down slowly.

Klinghoffer’s eyes widened as he looked up at the massive wall of terror that stood behind his arch nemesis Osbourne, rage flowed through his veins as he lowered his gaze and set his sights on Oz. “You…...Your ass is mine!!” he yelled out as he charged at his enemy, covering his whole arm in shining black armament haki, swinging violently as Osbourne dodged each with ease, making back step by step each time. With a chuckle, Oz switched his stance and went on the offensive, using his hand to strike like a snake as he lurched forward at his brother, the musician blocked each strike with his haki covered arm, stumbling back by a couple of paces each time. When Oz’s barrage was finally done, Klinghoffer took advantage of the opening and swung his guitar into his grasp, playing a Double Stop Destruction at his head, dulling his senses and slightly concussing him, this was used for the musician to take the higher ground, swinging at Oz faster and more furiously than the last time, he managed to land an elbow to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Then followed up by many swings to the upper body and head, Osbourne slid back and hit against the bloodied wall that stood behind them, wiping the blood off of his lip with his tongue he pushed off the wall and laughed. “I see you’ve gotten accustomed to using that stolen instrument of yours there huh, well you remember good old Layla….right? The woman you stole such a priceless piece of family memorabilia from? Well hahaHAHAHA DO I HAVE SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU!!” Oz laughs uncontrollably, showing how far gone his humanity really is.


Out from behind the wall walked a slow pace out from the shadows, their glazed over eyes reflecting the moonlight, their long flowing hair gliding through the wind as the figure walked out in front of Oz. Klinghoffer’s eyes teared up as he looked at the monstrosity that Osbourne had put in front of him, an empty husk of what remained of the beautiful woman known as Layla Livingston stood in between the two step-brothers. “L-L-L….” the musician stumbled over his words, unable to get anything out, Osbourne, however, was happy to finish the sentence, “Layla Livingston, what a beautiful lady she is…well…was. You don’t have to thank me, nobody could ask for a better gift, I reunited you two before you draw your final breath...Enjoy it while you can!”  Klinghoffer walked slowly up to the shell of a person, zombified and null of all life, tears rolling down his cheek as he touched her face, no longer smooth as he remembered it, “What have you done to her…WHAT HAVE YOU DONE YOU SICK BASTARD?!” he yelled out, memories flooding back of moments they shared together. “Well it’s pretty simple my dear Brother, I cleansed her of all earthly things, purifying her of everything dark in this world, all you have to do to end this whole thing, the tower, my minions on this island and everything here, is KILL HER!” The musician broke down, dropping to his knees and covering his face with his hands, “THAT’S RIGHT KLINGHOFFER, ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS KILL YOUR BELOVED LAYLA! WHAT A CRUEL TWIST OF FATE HUH? AHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Osbourne’s maniacal laugh turned into a demonic cackle as he faded into the darkness, eyes still glowing red, proving that he was still there to watch Klinghoffer go through the mental torture that he submitted the musician to.

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There right in front of him was everything he had been working for this whole time, every experience he endured and all of the hardships were to be finally reunited with her, “No...not like this, this can’t be it. This is impossible…” the very idea that Layla was dead messed with his head so much. Struggling to stand up he grabbed onto the hollow Layla and held her tight in his embrace, so many thoughts and precious memories flying around his head, was that voice he heard in his dreams actually her? Or was it just Oz fucking with him the whole time, did she still have humanity in her? Did she have thought? Could she hear my cries for help? All of these questions were stuck in his mind, with only one answer, no. Klinghoffer remembered back to a simpler time, before all this mess and destruction, the two sat on top of a roof back at the conservatory, the musician look at her, she was too busy in her own little world to notice. She gazed out on the ocean, the rippling waves reflecting the light of the moon, he wished this moment would last forever, just Klinghoffer, Layla and the ocean. She looked to him, changing her blank expression to an innocent smile, he smiled back with the most genuine smile any person could have, they both dangled their feet off of the edge of the roof completely encapsulated in the moment. Layla hummed a sweet melody that pierced through the sounds of the night, the rustling of the trees, the wind whistling and birds chirping, the humming then received lyrics, speakings of an angel to a human. She was too pure for this world, too innocent for the cruel reality, too beautiful for the ugly truth, but he knew that he couldn’t stay in this moment forever, he couldn’t let his emotions get in the way of saving millions of lives, these people had become his people, his Water 7 to protect. The musician lifted his head up from her shoulder, his tears running off of his face and onto the cold hard ground, he still couldn’t bare to let her go, let alone see her face.

Layla's Song:

“I don’t know what exactly is going on but i do know this, there is always a tomorrow, tomorrow always comes but is up to you to embrace it, nobody can force you to accept it but living in the past will only lead to misery!” Pink shouted out from the doorway leading to the stairway, red eyes slowly getting closer and closer behind him. Klinghoffer reached his hand imbued with haki back around from Layla’s back and held it out, then plunging it through her chest where her heart would have been and out the other side, he turned his face to look at Layla, a tear welled up in her duct then trickled down her cheek, it was over…she was gone. Her limp body fell lifelessly to the floor, blood pouring out from the hole where her heart used to be, the musicians eyes widened as he watched the final tear drip off of her cheek onto the floor. Looking up from her body to the large wall that stood there, along with a clapping Osbourne, the last remnant of the life that he previously had, “HAHAHA that was hilarious!! Did you really think that killing her would end this?!” the musician run up to Oz filled with rage, he easily stepped out of the way, but that wasn’t what Klinghoffer was aiming for. He began hitting the wall as hard as he could over and over with both hands until his knuckles bloodied. He pulled his guitar Layla over his shoulder and into his hands, fidgeting to get to the frets he played a Double Stop Destruction at the wall, cracking bit by bit with every blow. He played over and over til her could play no more, looking up at the wall it seemed like it couldn’t take much more. He then moved the haki onto the body of the guitar, covering it completely and sliding it off of his shoulder and held it by the neck, he began to launch his final act, his haki covered guitar swung and struck the wall, thus began his Stardust Standard. Hitting the guitar against the wall until it finally caved, the top slowly fell down with the rest following it off of the tower, he poured his heart and soul into every swing and didn’t stop until the only thing left was rubble.

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