Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco

In It Till The Bitter End

by leatherandlace 6 reviews

Ryan Ross has started his scholastic caree at Wilde's School of Mechanical Workings, and his new roommate, Brendon Urie, is a bit... odd. Steampunk/Post-Zombie Apacoplpyse

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Horror,Sci-fi - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2011-06-10 - Updated: 2011-06-10 - 1625 words

1Original
A/N Rydon in an Alt. Universe, i wounder what could happen. can we cheer for chapter 1? also forgive any grammar or spelling errors.
Chapter Songs: Turn Off The Lights//P!ATD, Disenchanted//MCR, and The Secret Life of DR Calgori//Abney Park


Ryan raised his eyes skyward and noticed, with a grumble, that it was as always cloudy. There were a few rays of light disrupting the churned gray. The wind ripped across the street, leaves skittered across the cobblestones, and Ryan’s scarf yanked tight as if the winds claws were trying to take it. Ryan struggled with his bag but the wind had other plans and ripped the scarf from his neck. Ryan exclaimed in disbelief and chased after it.

“Hey! Hey!” he shouted his feet pounding down the cobblestones. “SPENCER! SPENCER! HELP ME!”

As Ryan ran past a peculiarly crooked doorway, the door opened and Spencer poked his head out. Eyebrow raised he watched Ryan run past, paper flying behind him, arm outstretched. Spencer took measured, thoughtful steps out of the door and reached Ryan just as the wind stopped and he grabbed his scarf from the air.

“Ready to go?” Spencer asked, shoes clicking. Ryan looked over as Spencer walked straight ahead and shuffled his things again before running after his friend.

“Not really.” Ryan muttered catching up to Spencer.

Spencer rolled his eyes “You applied to this school. Remember? We got like hand picked from thousands of people.”

Ryan sighed “I knooow. But Mechanics? Uhhh.” He tossed his head back “I just want to go into music! Like… y’know? With stuff!”

Spencer smiled and nodded “Yeah I know.” Looking down at his hands Ryan observed the dead nails and bandages he’d had to place on his fingers. He’d spent the last summer smashing his fingers in-between gears and cogs trying to manage to understand why he’d applied to Wilde’s School of Mechanical Workings. His father had attended there, he knew that, and Spencer was going, and really it was that or medical school and Ryan couldn’t deal with blood.

Summerlin had two schools, Wilde’s School of Mechanical Workings and Weston’s School of Medical Arts. The town was one of the only uninfected towns in the southern tip of Nevada. The roads and trails leading out of the used-to-be suburb were monitored day and night; the only way to get in- or out -was to have a written permit from the city counsel. Ryan had heard rumors about people escaping with the help of one of the Night-Tales. Night-Tales were local gypsies and the like who the Council said were infected because they were undesirable, they wanted to leave, or they left, or learned something they shouldn’t have learned. Ryan had always thought it would be brilliant to leave, to find somewhere knew, to see what was beyond the watch towers and the walls. But no, no he couldn’t leave, he couldn’t leave everyone behind! Friends, family… not to mention if he got caught running after Night-Tales, he’d be taken to the town square…

Ryan looked up and even from here he could see the walls, miles away. They were like a constant reminder about the war that had been fought, the disease that had breed in the worms of dead soldiers, the dangers on the outside.

The boys walked down street after twisted street, to the other side of town where the Schools were located. The wind picked up as the two entered the town square, its fingers pulling at woman’s hats and the every present of smell of singed flesh followed them until the gates to Wilde’s. the iron gates met them with almost welcoming caresses. There were other students rushing around the entrance courtyard and Ryan had to struggle though the crowds with his heavy bags.

Ryan managed to get inside the oak doors and stood across from the Dinning Hall. Struggling up more clustered steps he and Spencer found themselves on the ground floor of an enormous staircase. Older students watched from the higher landings, observing the crowds of first years. Ryan watched briefly before he and Spencer mounted the steps and started up to the 3rd floor where their dorm was located.

Ryan and Spencer shuffled toward the registration desk and after a few moments got the attention of the attendant.

“What?” she asked looking as if she’d dealt with to many repitions of the same question today. Ryan’s eyes got big and he made a deer in the headlights noise. Spencer rolled his eyes.

“We need our scheduals and dorm number.” He answered and the attendant nodded asking for names and ID numbers.

She nodded punching numbers on her consul “Here we go. Ryan Ross and Spencer Smith. Both of you are in Dorm 314, on the 3rd floor, actually- MISS ROCHESTER!- that’s you’re dorm head right behind you. Here are your schedules.” Ryan turned to see and elder looking woman, probably in her 50s, with fading red hair pulled into a tight bun, and a strict face. She glared down at him through her rounded glasses.

“First years.” She growled “Follow me.” Ryan and Spencer started after Miss Rochester as her heels clicked harshly up the stone steps. The 3rd hall was lined with portraits and doorways. They were lead to a door marked 314 and Ryan managed to get inside with all his baggage. The room on the inside was the common room to the dorm; it had a fireplace and a tesla coil radio. There were two sofas, one yellow and black plaid the other red, one loveseat, and table and set of chairs.

Miss. Rochester led the two up the stairs to another hall that rapped around the common room. Some of the doors were ajar, but one half way down the hall was propped wide open music playing from the radio inside. Miss. Rochester frowned and stopped in the doorway.

“Urie.” She said and Ryan peered into the room. it was a plain wood floored room with a window and desk. On either side of the room were small narrow beds, both of which were had people seated with on both of them. The one to the right was made and had a suitcase stuck under it. The boy Miss Rochester had called Urie sat on the right hand bed with an ever so slightly frightened expression on his face. Across from them on the other bed sat a tall boy with glasses and sharp features and a boy Ryan and Spencer had gone to Secondary school with; Jon Walker. In the middle of the room stood a boy with swooshy hair and broad shoulders, in his hand was very breakable glass tube. “What’s going on in here?” The Dorm Mistress said. The swooshy haired one lowered his hand.

“Sorry.” He muttered handing her the breakable tube “I got carried away.”

“Wentz, have you been taking your medication?” she asked not cold heartedly. The boy’s mouth formed a deep frown and he shouldered past. “Urie, this is your new roommate, Ryan Ross.” She motioned to Ryan. The boy ‘Urie’ smiled and waved. “Now Smith, your roommate just stormed past…” Rochester turned and walked away leaving Spencer in a frightened state behind her. He looked at Ryan before following hesitantly.

“Don’t worry!” the tall be-speckled boy shouted pushing past Ryan and out of the room “Pete doesn’t bite!” Ryan pressed himself against the doorframe.

“Hey Ryan.” Jon Walker said waving “This is Brendon.”

Brendon smiled widely again and stood offering his hand “Brendon Urie. Biomechanics.” Ryan smiled back taking Brendon’s hand.

“Ryan Ross. Aeromechanics.” Ryan blushed, Brendon smiled again his smooth cheeks winkling with the smile.

“See you at dinner, Brendon.” Jon said shuffling out of the room. Ryan watched him go, suddenly fearful to be alone with Brendon. Brendon with smooth pale skin and dark soft hair and big eyes and Brendon was suddenly standing very close. Ryan backed up and Brendon looked as if he hadn’t just invaded Ryan’s personal space.

“So,” Ryan said turning away and dropping his bags on the bed across from Brendon’s. there was a squeak of Brendon rolling on to his bed. “Are you a first year?”

Brendon laughed at something that didn’t seem very funny “No, second year.” He said grinning again “But does it matter?” he asked as Ryan started to unpack. Ryan shrugged

“No I guess not.” A silence passed between them before the door was tossed open by Pete, his bad mood suddenly gone

“Porno-mime is here!” Pete shouted “Do you know what that means?!”

“You being an idiot?” Brendon suggested as Pete walked into the room

Pete rolled his eyes and leaned against Ryan “No. it means –”

“It means Pete’s gonna go get into some ridiculous trouble with Patrick and anyone else he can finagle into this plan.” Brendon elaborated “Don’t listen to him.” He informed Ryan.

“Dude!” the tall boy who’d just left shouted appeared behind Pete “Pete! Porno-mime is here!”

“Dude! I fucking know!” Pete high fived him and then turned to Brendon “You’re lose.” The pair turned and headed off toward the door to the dorm. Brendon rolled his eyes and reclined onto his bed pulling a book out from under the mattress.

“Relax.” He told Ryan who sat awkwardly on the edge of his bed. “Dinner’s in an hour.” That was the last thing that Brendon spoke before dinner. He zoned out, completely immersed in his book. Ryan could see where this year was going to lead, and it wasn’t anywhere fast.
Sign up to rate and review this story