Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > But It's Better if You Do
But It's Better if You Do
3 reviewsSequel to Ballad of Mona Lisa: Brendon goes under cover in a cabaret in victorian Chicago to investigate the recent gruesome murders. Featuring a bearded wonder whom we all love.
2Original
Summary: Sequel to Ballad of Mona Lisa. Brennan (Brendon) and the League of Steam visit and old friend in victorian Chicago to investigate the mysterious, beast-like killings that have been occurring in the vicinity of a well known cabaret. Featuring: Brendon Urie, The League of STEAM, and a surprise guest that we all know and love (beard may or may not be included).
It was a crisp night and the tall buildings of Chicago cast shadows to break up the bright light of the full moon. Clarence Shipman paused at the door of his cabaret, fishing in his pockets for the key to lock the door. So far it looked like a quiet enough night, perhaps there wouldn't be any disturbances after all.
A terrifying sound pierced the smog-choked air and the surprise of the chilling scream caused Shipman to drop his keys. His eyes pried anxiously at the shadows around him as the horrible sounds echoed off the brick walls. He had hoped too soon.
-
Brennan looked down at the newspaper in his lap before tentatively handing it to Blanche who sat next to him in the train car. "Just a warning, it goes into detail," he said with a grimace. She nodded her head absently as her eyes perused the article on the latest death that happened on the streets of Chicago. Gruesome... Gruesome was certainly the word for it.
Brennan looked across the car to his fellow league members JR and Crackitus. "So when we arrive," he said, "Go on ahead to the base with the luggage and I'll meet up with you later tonight."
Crackitus raised an eyebrow at this, "And just where will you be off to?" It had been little more than a week since Brennan had returned to the land of the living, he was still anxious to keep his nephew in his sights. Blanche looked up curiously from the paper, also wondering where he was going.
"Nothing more than errands," Brennan said, "telegraph office and then checking in with Clarence to settle my cover." Crackitus nodded in understanding, they had decided that Brennan would go back to work at the cabaret as a musician to better keep an eye out for anything strange in the area while the rest of the League would patrol the streets. All the violent deaths had been happening in just a few mile radius around the cabaret. The deaths were all violent but no one wanted to label them as murders... they were far too gruesome to be done by human hands. They were also far too vicious to be done by just some stray animal, and what with the killings being in the middle of Chicago all the signs pointed to one thing: monster.
"Are you sure you want to go alone?" Blanche asked. "I could go with you..." Brennan was already shaking his head. "No, I don't want you near that cabaret. I'd prefer you as safe as is humanly possible."
She reluctantly conceded and the small group sat in silence for a little longer. She knew full well that it was a cabaret that he was going to work at and that was not a comfortable idea. She gently rested her hand on his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder, relishing in the feeling of tweed against her cheek.
Brennan looked down in slight surprise at her new position but couldn't help a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He looked back up at Crackitus, he had one more thing to settle. "I can't be called Brennan anymore, it's too irish to work in that kind of place," Crackitus nodded his head and Brennan continued, "I'll be keeping the change simple though. I'm Brendon now."
They all nodded in acceptance, it was a small but decent change to his name that would suffice to hide his strong irish background. It was sometimes hard to be of any specific culture depending on what part of Chicago you were in.
-
It was only a few more hours before the train had finally reached its destination in the Windy City. With apprehension and a dash of giddyness, Brendon stepped out onto the platform and looked about him. It was good to be back, but it was also somewhat uncomfortable. He absentmindedly rubbed his neck where there was now just a scar as he bent down to help carry Blanche's bags. She noticed his rubbing but decided not to say anything, she would talk to him later at the base to see how he was feeling.
She smiled as he helped her into the carriage and sat next to JR while Crackitus sat across from her. She looked expectantly at Brendon but then sadly remembered that he wasn't riding with them. He seemed to avoid her gaze as he looked up at his uncle, "I'll see you tonight." And he was gone.
Brendon had only a mile or so before he was in the general area of the cabaret, though it was not a particularly nice area. He fought back intense waves of nausea as his sense of smell was bombarded and attacked from all fronts. As he walked the smells changed from building to building but it was not long before he noticed several smells were staying more or less consistent. And the foot steps behind him were enough for even a clod-hopper to know that he was being followed.
With a sigh of impatient defeat he stopped and waited for his stalkers to draw closer before he turned to face them. "Evening gents," he said as they approached. He wasn't trying to be rude, he figured that the sooner he could leave the better and that might require him being spineless for a few minutes. He gave them a tight-lipped smile.
Three burly men faced him, all signs pointed to them being hard manual laborers and not at all gentlemen. They didn't exactly look friendly either. "You new in town, kid?" The man in the middle took a step forward away from his companions as he spoke, Brendon immediately took a step back.
"More or less," he said. These men smelled horrible, like rotting fish, sweat, and one smelled like wet dog. "You got a job yet?" The man in the middle spoke again. Brendon slowly nodded his head as he replied, "That's not really any of your business..." The man was already shaking his head with a smile as though he found Brendon amusing. "It is Mr. Rogers' business, smart one," Brendon now knew what these men were about, emissaries of the local gang boss. In worse parts of any big city there's always a gang for each "territory" and everything in it was theirs, the property, the business, the people.
"How about you come and pay a visit to Mr. Rogers with us? I'm sure he'd be mighty glad to meet anyone new in town," the man said while taking several more steps closer, Brendon didn't retreat this time.
"I'm actually late for an appointment... I don't really have time to do this," Brendon wasn't lying about this, he really was. And getting in a fight now would only make him even more late. But it seemed the three thugs had all the time in the world.
"But it's better if you do..." The man in the middle was closer than ever and they were beginning to circle around him now.
Brendon smiled again, this time showing his teeth in a vicious smirk, his previously hidden fangs now visible. It's was the devil's smile, and they had just asked him to dance.
It was a crisp night and the tall buildings of Chicago cast shadows to break up the bright light of the full moon. Clarence Shipman paused at the door of his cabaret, fishing in his pockets for the key to lock the door. So far it looked like a quiet enough night, perhaps there wouldn't be any disturbances after all.
A terrifying sound pierced the smog-choked air and the surprise of the chilling scream caused Shipman to drop his keys. His eyes pried anxiously at the shadows around him as the horrible sounds echoed off the brick walls. He had hoped too soon.
-
Brennan looked down at the newspaper in his lap before tentatively handing it to Blanche who sat next to him in the train car. "Just a warning, it goes into detail," he said with a grimace. She nodded her head absently as her eyes perused the article on the latest death that happened on the streets of Chicago. Gruesome... Gruesome was certainly the word for it.
Brennan looked across the car to his fellow league members JR and Crackitus. "So when we arrive," he said, "Go on ahead to the base with the luggage and I'll meet up with you later tonight."
Crackitus raised an eyebrow at this, "And just where will you be off to?" It had been little more than a week since Brennan had returned to the land of the living, he was still anxious to keep his nephew in his sights. Blanche looked up curiously from the paper, also wondering where he was going.
"Nothing more than errands," Brennan said, "telegraph office and then checking in with Clarence to settle my cover." Crackitus nodded in understanding, they had decided that Brennan would go back to work at the cabaret as a musician to better keep an eye out for anything strange in the area while the rest of the League would patrol the streets. All the violent deaths had been happening in just a few mile radius around the cabaret. The deaths were all violent but no one wanted to label them as murders... they were far too gruesome to be done by human hands. They were also far too vicious to be done by just some stray animal, and what with the killings being in the middle of Chicago all the signs pointed to one thing: monster.
"Are you sure you want to go alone?" Blanche asked. "I could go with you..." Brennan was already shaking his head. "No, I don't want you near that cabaret. I'd prefer you as safe as is humanly possible."
She reluctantly conceded and the small group sat in silence for a little longer. She knew full well that it was a cabaret that he was going to work at and that was not a comfortable idea. She gently rested her hand on his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder, relishing in the feeling of tweed against her cheek.
Brennan looked down in slight surprise at her new position but couldn't help a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He looked back up at Crackitus, he had one more thing to settle. "I can't be called Brennan anymore, it's too irish to work in that kind of place," Crackitus nodded his head and Brennan continued, "I'll be keeping the change simple though. I'm Brendon now."
They all nodded in acceptance, it was a small but decent change to his name that would suffice to hide his strong irish background. It was sometimes hard to be of any specific culture depending on what part of Chicago you were in.
-
It was only a few more hours before the train had finally reached its destination in the Windy City. With apprehension and a dash of giddyness, Brendon stepped out onto the platform and looked about him. It was good to be back, but it was also somewhat uncomfortable. He absentmindedly rubbed his neck where there was now just a scar as he bent down to help carry Blanche's bags. She noticed his rubbing but decided not to say anything, she would talk to him later at the base to see how he was feeling.
She smiled as he helped her into the carriage and sat next to JR while Crackitus sat across from her. She looked expectantly at Brendon but then sadly remembered that he wasn't riding with them. He seemed to avoid her gaze as he looked up at his uncle, "I'll see you tonight." And he was gone.
Brendon had only a mile or so before he was in the general area of the cabaret, though it was not a particularly nice area. He fought back intense waves of nausea as his sense of smell was bombarded and attacked from all fronts. As he walked the smells changed from building to building but it was not long before he noticed several smells were staying more or less consistent. And the foot steps behind him were enough for even a clod-hopper to know that he was being followed.
With a sigh of impatient defeat he stopped and waited for his stalkers to draw closer before he turned to face them. "Evening gents," he said as they approached. He wasn't trying to be rude, he figured that the sooner he could leave the better and that might require him being spineless for a few minutes. He gave them a tight-lipped smile.
Three burly men faced him, all signs pointed to them being hard manual laborers and not at all gentlemen. They didn't exactly look friendly either. "You new in town, kid?" The man in the middle took a step forward away from his companions as he spoke, Brendon immediately took a step back.
"More or less," he said. These men smelled horrible, like rotting fish, sweat, and one smelled like wet dog. "You got a job yet?" The man in the middle spoke again. Brendon slowly nodded his head as he replied, "That's not really any of your business..." The man was already shaking his head with a smile as though he found Brendon amusing. "It is Mr. Rogers' business, smart one," Brendon now knew what these men were about, emissaries of the local gang boss. In worse parts of any big city there's always a gang for each "territory" and everything in it was theirs, the property, the business, the people.
"How about you come and pay a visit to Mr. Rogers with us? I'm sure he'd be mighty glad to meet anyone new in town," the man said while taking several more steps closer, Brendon didn't retreat this time.
"I'm actually late for an appointment... I don't really have time to do this," Brendon wasn't lying about this, he really was. And getting in a fight now would only make him even more late. But it seemed the three thugs had all the time in the world.
"But it's better if you do..." The man in the middle was closer than ever and they were beginning to circle around him now.
Brendon smiled again, this time showing his teeth in a vicious smirk, his previously hidden fangs now visible. It's was the devil's smile, and they had just asked him to dance.
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