Demons! At the Disco
Hey, remember this fic? It's still not done, there's one more arc to go. One more arc which starts today, right here, right now! Exciting, yes?
2,018 words of unbeta'd demonfic for your enjoyment! In this part: Pretty. Odd., Jon is magic, and Ryan the angry puddle.
Previously:
Arc 1: about Brent... | nutritious & delicious | seductively sexy bird | stalked by PMS | Ryan and his emo | power of names | JWalk kicks ass | Spencer cares | SJSV revealed!
Arc 2: pet humans | Tom arrives | Tomrad's troubles | the Impundulu is the new Robin | Jon-Zack bonding! | magic 8-ball of awesome | with his thighs
Recording with Panic! At the Disco is both exactly what Jon expected and a lot crazier than he thought it would be. For one thing, Ryan insists that they go someplace "wet" that has "atmosphere." Jon understands the wet thing - dry Ryans are emo Ryans, and emo Ryan really wouldn't work with the sound they're trying to capture on this album - but the atmosphere thing goes right over his head. Thankfully, it seems that neither Spencer nor Brendon get it either. Still, Ryan's the one with the lyrics and the musical mojo, so they bow to his imperious demands and fly to England to record the album. Jon's mostly okay with that, though he could do without the twelve hour plane flight.
The other unexpected thing is that the exclamation mark in the band's name disappears, and no one will tell Jon where it's run off to. He pokes around, but when he fails to turn anything up after the first week or two, he decides it must be a lost cause. It's a shame, really. Jon liked the exclamation mark. (Brendon did too, apparently - he moaned and complained for weeks after Ryan declared that it must be done away with for aesthetic reasons.)
What they end up recording is a lot different from Fever. More whimsical, less frenzied and desperate. Journalists keep insisting that it is clearly the result of Jon's influence on the band; hell, other people on the Decaydance label who aren't in the know about the otherworldly origins of three-quarters of Jon's band like to smirk and insist that Panic's second album clearly show the influence of Jon's weed. Jon knows it really, really isn't, that the only big difference between him and Brent is that Jon is in the music business by choice rather than by happenstance. Well, and Jon has so far managed to avoid being eaten by the rest of the band. (Every now and then Jon wonders what'd happen if anyone ever tried to track down Brent to do one of those, "Where Are They Now?" type specials for MTV or something. Jon's pretty sure that he and Spencer are the only ones in the band who posses actual-fact legal paperwork to back-up their identities. Plus, anyone who goes looking is really not going to have a hard time finding that there aren't any "Brent Wilson"s going to school in Vegas area. Or, if there are, they sure as hell aren't the right Brent Wilsons.)
The album, which Ryan insists on calling Pretty. Odd ("What is it with you and random punctuation?" Jon had pressed upon learning the intended name. Ryan being Ryan, all Jon got in response was a shrug. Of course.
"He secretly wants to rename the band that, but he knows Brendon will never go for it and he figures this is the closest he's ever going to get," was Spencer's theory.
"Periods are boring," Brendon said, sticking out his tongue and wrinkling his nose.), means another tour. Pete seems overly-pleased by this.
"You are magic, JWalk," he says happily, having usurped Patrick's usual stalker phone call to inform Jon of his apparent magical abilities.
"Um, no, I'm pretty sure that's Zack," Jon says, because he believes in giving credit where credit is due. Also, Zack scares him more than a little bit, even if he is supposedly 100% safe from Zack's magical mumbo-jumbo.
"No, no, I mean that if it weren't for you, that band of yours probably would've run off to a sex cabin in the mountains for months on end and gotten absolutely nothing done."
"Not a sex cabin," Ryan calls from inside the bus. Jon has no idea how Ryan manages to do that, but he thinks it's pretty awesome.
"Yeah, still Zack," Jon points out. "He said no cabin because the other guys might eat me."
"But, see, he wouldn't've said that if you weren't in the band," Pete says sagely. "You are a sound business investment. Okay, Patrick is making the wavey, flailing motions again, so I'm gonna let him have his phone back so he can be all freaky and stalkerly and you can tell him you're alive so." Sound becomes muffled on the other end as the phone presumably changes hands, but Jon still manages to catch a, "-why you do this, it's like you don't trust Zack or something-"
"Because he's biased, Wentz," comes through clearly, if a bit tinny and distant as Patrick fumbles to get the phone to his ear. "Hey, Walker."
"Hey. He's really not, you know," Jon says. If Zack were biased in favor of the demons, Jon's pretty sure he wouldn't use wards on them to keep them in line. Spencer and the others can say what they like about how the wards aren't anything more than a slap on the wrist to them, but anything that hurts that much for that long is not okay in Jon's book.
"He's soft on the demons," Patrick huffs. "He likes them."
"You like them too," Jon reminds him. Get Patrick and Brendon in the same room and they'll natter away at each other for hours on end. It's slightly frightening.
Patrick sighs and most probably rolls his eyes. "Yes, but it's not like they can hurt me. I'm already dead."
Huh. Jon did not know that about Patrick, though he supposes it makes sense, since Patrick works for what's effectively the realm of the dead. "Dude, that doesn't make you any safer. Ryan and Spencer totally raid morgues when they get the munchies."
"Hospital morgues for the freshly dead, not the decomposing. Anyway, I'm not a corpse. I'm a physical manifestation of a spirit, and there isn't really much of any substance to my physical form, so they wouldn't get any sustenance out of me. Are you sure you're fine with another tour as you are? If you want, I could probably get Lord Koenma to lend you an amulet of protection or something..."
"I'll be fine, Patrick, honest. They're really not as bad as you make them out to be, and anyways, I can take care of myself," Jon reassures, ignoring the doubtful noise Patrick makes.
"If they try anything, let me know, got it? Anything.. No hiding it and attempting to cover it up for them like last time. They're already on probation for trying to eat you," Patrick grumbles.
Jon goes still. He's never told anyone about Spencer biting him and Brendon sucking up the resulting blood. Up until now, he would have sworn that no one outside the band knew about that little incident, not even Zack. Apparently, Jon was wrong. Well. Maybe. Hopefully he's not. "Eat me? What the hell are you talking abou-"
"Don't try and play dumb with me, Walker. I know they lost control last year. Tell them they're facing deportation or worse if they do it again," Patrick snaps. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Bye."
Jon's goodbye is distracted and ultimately pointless, coming after Patrick's already ended the call. Which is just as well, really - Jon's already halfway up the steps of the bus when he manages to choke it out. He skids to a halt in the front lounge, no doubt looking panicked and wild-eyed.
"What's up, Jon Walker?" Brendon asks cheerfully, waving at Jon from where he's lying on his back on the table, shirtless and spread-eagle. Ryan's standing beside him, Sharpie in one hand, a canister of whipped cream in the other, and a more than slightly guilty look on his face. Jon does a double take, but snaps his mouth shut before he can ask. It is, no doubt, safer for his sanity to just not know.
"Patrick knows about you and Spencer slipping up with me," Jon blurts out. Glancing at Ryan, he adds, "It wasn't me, I swear. I didn't say anything, denied it when he brought it up, but he knows. He said anything more and you're out of here."
"Fuck," Brendon says emphatically, eyes wide behind his glasses. Lightning jumps from lens to lens, and the black frames are quickly turning red, evidence of the fact that Brendon's fast losing control of his human form. There's an odd "schlOOOP" noise, and Jon leaps forward just in time to save the canister Ryan was holding from hitting the floor. Ryan himself hits the floor with a splash, for the moment nothing more than a puddle. While Jon's used to Spencer frequently sprouting fur by now, it's still pretty rare for the two full-blooded demons to have their emotions effect their physical forms. That they're reacting like this tells Jon both are surprised and seriously unsettled by his news.
The puddle of Ryan roils and surges on the floor. Bubbles form and pop, producing noises that sound almost like words, though not in any language Jon knows. Brendon looks just as clueless when Jon glances in his direction, though it could be that Brendon just isn't paying attention to the sounds, too caught up in his own panic.
"Shut up," Spencer says with a yawn, clinging to the door frame to keep himself upright as he stumbles out from the bunks. He makes a face at the puddle, then glances at Jon. "What's he all worked up about? He only bubbles in Scandinavian when he's really freaked out."
"Patrick found out about you guys fucking up and biting me," Jon explains. "No idea how he knows, I never said a thing, I swear."
"He knows because I told him," Spencer says peevishly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and glaring at the rest of them.
"What? Spencer, what the hell were you thinking? Now Patrick's talking about deportation," Ryan snaps," pulling himself together and rising up from the floor. Jon shudders and looks away - Ryan's still transparent, and it's damned creepy to be able to see through him, even if he hasn't formed internal organs or anything yet.
"Yeah, well, you wouldn't be, so I don't see what you're freaking out over. I lost control, someone could have been seriously hurt. Maybe I can't be on this plane any more and I should be deported," Spencer shoots back. Fur grows and shrinks on his arms, looking almost like waves as they shift from back and forth between forms as Spencer fights to control himself.
"You couldn't make it in the other world," Ryan insists.
"Oh, and you could? You ran away!"
"I chose to leave! I had a baby to keep track of and-"
"Don't try and blame this on me. You never had to stay, your duty ended when you got me to my dad," Spencer sneers.
Stepping between them, Jon raises his hands. "Look, guys, I really don't think-"
"Shut up, human," Ryan hisses fiercely, and tendril of water snapping out from his shoulder and shooting through the air towards Jon. It misses Jon's face, but just barely, passing through where his head was moments before to hit the wall beyond. When the tendril recedes, there's a quarter-sized dent in the metal, and Jon freezes. He can still feel Brendon's hand fisted in the cloth of his shirt, tugging him out the door and off the bus.
"He could have killed me!"
"Yeah, well. That's why I had to get you out of there. Don't mess with Ryan when he's in protective mode," Brendon says softly. "Just... don't. It's never a good idea."
Jon swallows and nods slowly. "So, uh. Wanna go hang out on with the Academy guys for a while?" No way does he want to stick around for the fallout of what looks to be shaping up to be an epic fight between Ryan and Spencer. Also, he really doesn't think he can be around Ryan right now.
"Sounds good to me. I can finally have my revenge on Mrotek for making me fly cross-country all the time," Brendon says with a cackle, rubbing his hands together.
"You do know he doesn't actually realize you're the bird, right?"
"It's the concept of the thing, Jon Walker. The concept."
Oh look- have some more.
2,018 words of unbeta'd demonfic for your enjoyment! In this part: Pretty. Odd., Jon is magic, and Ryan the angry puddle.
Previously:
Arc 1: about Brent... | nutritious & delicious | seductively sexy bird | stalked by PMS | Ryan and his emo | power of names | JWalk kicks ass | Spencer cares | SJSV revealed!
Arc 2: pet humans | Tom arrives | Tomrad's troubles | the Impundulu is the new Robin | Jon-Zack bonding! | magic 8-ball of awesome | with his thighs
Recording with Panic! At the Disco is both exactly what Jon expected and a lot crazier than he thought it would be. For one thing, Ryan insists that they go someplace "wet" that has "atmosphere." Jon understands the wet thing - dry Ryans are emo Ryans, and emo Ryan really wouldn't work with the sound they're trying to capture on this album - but the atmosphere thing goes right over his head. Thankfully, it seems that neither Spencer nor Brendon get it either. Still, Ryan's the one with the lyrics and the musical mojo, so they bow to his imperious demands and fly to England to record the album. Jon's mostly okay with that, though he could do without the twelve hour plane flight.
The other unexpected thing is that the exclamation mark in the band's name disappears, and no one will tell Jon where it's run off to. He pokes around, but when he fails to turn anything up after the first week or two, he decides it must be a lost cause. It's a shame, really. Jon liked the exclamation mark. (Brendon did too, apparently - he moaned and complained for weeks after Ryan declared that it must be done away with for aesthetic reasons.)
What they end up recording is a lot different from Fever. More whimsical, less frenzied and desperate. Journalists keep insisting that it is clearly the result of Jon's influence on the band; hell, other people on the Decaydance label who aren't in the know about the otherworldly origins of three-quarters of Jon's band like to smirk and insist that Panic's second album clearly show the influence of Jon's weed. Jon knows it really, really isn't, that the only big difference between him and Brent is that Jon is in the music business by choice rather than by happenstance. Well, and Jon has so far managed to avoid being eaten by the rest of the band. (Every now and then Jon wonders what'd happen if anyone ever tried to track down Brent to do one of those, "Where Are They Now?" type specials for MTV or something. Jon's pretty sure that he and Spencer are the only ones in the band who posses actual-fact legal paperwork to back-up their identities. Plus, anyone who goes looking is really not going to have a hard time finding that there aren't any "Brent Wilson"s going to school in Vegas area. Or, if there are, they sure as hell aren't the right Brent Wilsons.)
The album, which Ryan insists on calling Pretty. Odd ("What is it with you and random punctuation?" Jon had pressed upon learning the intended name. Ryan being Ryan, all Jon got in response was a shrug. Of course.
"He secretly wants to rename the band that, but he knows Brendon will never go for it and he figures this is the closest he's ever going to get," was Spencer's theory.
"Periods are boring," Brendon said, sticking out his tongue and wrinkling his nose.), means another tour. Pete seems overly-pleased by this.
"You are magic, JWalk," he says happily, having usurped Patrick's usual stalker phone call to inform Jon of his apparent magical abilities.
"Um, no, I'm pretty sure that's Zack," Jon says, because he believes in giving credit where credit is due. Also, Zack scares him more than a little bit, even if he is supposedly 100% safe from Zack's magical mumbo-jumbo.
"No, no, I mean that if it weren't for you, that band of yours probably would've run off to a sex cabin in the mountains for months on end and gotten absolutely nothing done."
"Not a sex cabin," Ryan calls from inside the bus. Jon has no idea how Ryan manages to do that, but he thinks it's pretty awesome.
"Yeah, still Zack," Jon points out. "He said no cabin because the other guys might eat me."
"But, see, he wouldn't've said that if you weren't in the band," Pete says sagely. "You are a sound business investment. Okay, Patrick is making the wavey, flailing motions again, so I'm gonna let him have his phone back so he can be all freaky and stalkerly and you can tell him you're alive so." Sound becomes muffled on the other end as the phone presumably changes hands, but Jon still manages to catch a, "-why you do this, it's like you don't trust Zack or something-"
"Because he's biased, Wentz," comes through clearly, if a bit tinny and distant as Patrick fumbles to get the phone to his ear. "Hey, Walker."
"Hey. He's really not, you know," Jon says. If Zack were biased in favor of the demons, Jon's pretty sure he wouldn't use wards on them to keep them in line. Spencer and the others can say what they like about how the wards aren't anything more than a slap on the wrist to them, but anything that hurts that much for that long is not okay in Jon's book.
"He's soft on the demons," Patrick huffs. "He likes them."
"You like them too," Jon reminds him. Get Patrick and Brendon in the same room and they'll natter away at each other for hours on end. It's slightly frightening.
Patrick sighs and most probably rolls his eyes. "Yes, but it's not like they can hurt me. I'm already dead."
Huh. Jon did not know that about Patrick, though he supposes it makes sense, since Patrick works for what's effectively the realm of the dead. "Dude, that doesn't make you any safer. Ryan and Spencer totally raid morgues when they get the munchies."
"Hospital morgues for the freshly dead, not the decomposing. Anyway, I'm not a corpse. I'm a physical manifestation of a spirit, and there isn't really much of any substance to my physical form, so they wouldn't get any sustenance out of me. Are you sure you're fine with another tour as you are? If you want, I could probably get Lord Koenma to lend you an amulet of protection or something..."
"I'll be fine, Patrick, honest. They're really not as bad as you make them out to be, and anyways, I can take care of myself," Jon reassures, ignoring the doubtful noise Patrick makes.
"If they try anything, let me know, got it? Anything.. No hiding it and attempting to cover it up for them like last time. They're already on probation for trying to eat you," Patrick grumbles.
Jon goes still. He's never told anyone about Spencer biting him and Brendon sucking up the resulting blood. Up until now, he would have sworn that no one outside the band knew about that little incident, not even Zack. Apparently, Jon was wrong. Well. Maybe. Hopefully he's not. "Eat me? What the hell are you talking abou-"
"Don't try and play dumb with me, Walker. I know they lost control last year. Tell them they're facing deportation or worse if they do it again," Patrick snaps. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Bye."
Jon's goodbye is distracted and ultimately pointless, coming after Patrick's already ended the call. Which is just as well, really - Jon's already halfway up the steps of the bus when he manages to choke it out. He skids to a halt in the front lounge, no doubt looking panicked and wild-eyed.
"What's up, Jon Walker?" Brendon asks cheerfully, waving at Jon from where he's lying on his back on the table, shirtless and spread-eagle. Ryan's standing beside him, Sharpie in one hand, a canister of whipped cream in the other, and a more than slightly guilty look on his face. Jon does a double take, but snaps his mouth shut before he can ask. It is, no doubt, safer for his sanity to just not know.
"Patrick knows about you and Spencer slipping up with me," Jon blurts out. Glancing at Ryan, he adds, "It wasn't me, I swear. I didn't say anything, denied it when he brought it up, but he knows. He said anything more and you're out of here."
"Fuck," Brendon says emphatically, eyes wide behind his glasses. Lightning jumps from lens to lens, and the black frames are quickly turning red, evidence of the fact that Brendon's fast losing control of his human form. There's an odd "schlOOOP" noise, and Jon leaps forward just in time to save the canister Ryan was holding from hitting the floor. Ryan himself hits the floor with a splash, for the moment nothing more than a puddle. While Jon's used to Spencer frequently sprouting fur by now, it's still pretty rare for the two full-blooded demons to have their emotions effect their physical forms. That they're reacting like this tells Jon both are surprised and seriously unsettled by his news.
The puddle of Ryan roils and surges on the floor. Bubbles form and pop, producing noises that sound almost like words, though not in any language Jon knows. Brendon looks just as clueless when Jon glances in his direction, though it could be that Brendon just isn't paying attention to the sounds, too caught up in his own panic.
"Shut up," Spencer says with a yawn, clinging to the door frame to keep himself upright as he stumbles out from the bunks. He makes a face at the puddle, then glances at Jon. "What's he all worked up about? He only bubbles in Scandinavian when he's really freaked out."
"Patrick found out about you guys fucking up and biting me," Jon explains. "No idea how he knows, I never said a thing, I swear."
"He knows because I told him," Spencer says peevishly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and glaring at the rest of them.
"What? Spencer, what the hell were you thinking? Now Patrick's talking about deportation," Ryan snaps," pulling himself together and rising up from the floor. Jon shudders and looks away - Ryan's still transparent, and it's damned creepy to be able to see through him, even if he hasn't formed internal organs or anything yet.
"Yeah, well, you wouldn't be, so I don't see what you're freaking out over. I lost control, someone could have been seriously hurt. Maybe I can't be on this plane any more and I should be deported," Spencer shoots back. Fur grows and shrinks on his arms, looking almost like waves as they shift from back and forth between forms as Spencer fights to control himself.
"You couldn't make it in the other world," Ryan insists.
"Oh, and you could? You ran away!"
"I chose to leave! I had a baby to keep track of and-"
"Don't try and blame this on me. You never had to stay, your duty ended when you got me to my dad," Spencer sneers.
Stepping between them, Jon raises his hands. "Look, guys, I really don't think-"
"Shut up, human," Ryan hisses fiercely, and tendril of water snapping out from his shoulder and shooting through the air towards Jon. It misses Jon's face, but just barely, passing through where his head was moments before to hit the wall beyond. When the tendril recedes, there's a quarter-sized dent in the metal, and Jon freezes. He can still feel Brendon's hand fisted in the cloth of his shirt, tugging him out the door and off the bus.
"He could have killed me!"
"Yeah, well. That's why I had to get you out of there. Don't mess with Ryan when he's in protective mode," Brendon says softly. "Just... don't. It's never a good idea."
Jon swallows and nods slowly. "So, uh. Wanna go hang out on with the Academy guys for a while?" No way does he want to stick around for the fallout of what looks to be shaping up to be an epic fight between Ryan and Spencer. Also, he really doesn't think he can be around Ryan right now.
"Sounds good to me. I can finally have my revenge on Mrotek for making me fly cross-country all the time," Brendon says with a cackle, rubbing his hands together.
"You do know he doesn't actually realize you're the bird, right?"
"It's the concept of the thing, Jon Walker. The concept."
Oh look- have some more.