Rating: erm... PG13-R?
Summary: What happens when Imp finds a magical rose vest.
Authors' Notes: Panic! Soul Music/Discworld Crossover, but I didn't really follow the canon or timelines for either. Also, this is my first ever bandfic or anything like this. Oh, and a very brief reference to Hitchhiker's Guide...
Disclaimer: I don't own either Pratchett's Discworld stuff, including his characters, nor do I own Panic! At the Disco or their affiliates, nor a rose vest, and I'm pretty sure this never happened and that it is all fictional and a product of my strange imagination.
Imp wasn't sure where the vest came from. It had magically appeared one day, hung carefully over his harp. It was quite small, actually. Far too small to belong to Lias. And far to narrow to belong to Glod. Imp reached out a finger, stroking it tentatively. It was quite...rosy. It hummed under his fingertips, reminding him of something, something he couldn't quite put his... okay, well he had his finger on it, on the vest that is, and well, he was actually stroking it really, to be precise. But that hum. It was familiar, like something he had encountered before, only Imp couldn't quite place where it was he had encountered it. Strangely though, it broght to mind a face. The face was pleasant. It looked slightly elvish. Brown eyes, lined in lots of black, with... was that spiral naturally a part of the boy's skin?
Imp's found himself holding the vest and the image became even more clear. The rose vest was worn by the boy, and he was playing a guitar, standing on a stage. The image seemed to play for him. There were others with him, another boy singing and leaning close in to the elvish one. Imp felt his stomach go funny. The hum was getting louder.
He wanted to hear what it was they were playing, those two, and the others behind them, the one on the drums with the pleasant face, and the one with a couple day's growth of beard. Imp had a good feeling about them, like maybe their music made young girls want to throw their panties on stage. Though come to think of it, boys' undergarments being thrown on stage could be fun, too, provided the boys didn't look like Lias or Glod.
And that hum had a voice to it, one that whispered "try me on." And of course, Imp couldn't resist. It really was a rather nice vest, after all.
Ryan Ross cursed, turning the room upside down in an attempt to find it, with no luck.
"It's gone. How can I perform tonight without the vest?"
"Relax man, I'm sure it'll turn up," Brendon said, or rather mumbled around a handful of Ryan's gummy bears.
"Probably ate it," Ryan grumbled. He sighed, and flopped down, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I'll just have to go without it tonight."
Imp slid the best on, buttoning it up. It didn't so much hum now, as purr. Glod looked over appraisingly. "Very nice. A little over the top maybe." He didn't notice the strange look in Imp's eyes, even when they closed and his head dropped back in bliss as he listened to the music that the likes of which had never been heard in Ankh-Morpork, or even in Llamedos. This... this was music! This was amazing. This was an aural orgasm! That voice, that sultry, sexy voice coming from those lips! This was certainly music reserved for the gods (and maybe that cute, slightly standoffish girl named Susan that he met at the fish shop in Three Roses Alley. He had the thought that if he could let her hear this, then maybe she'd throw her panties at him. And maybe herself, too.
Imp didn't seem to notice that the image of that strange place was becoming more three dimensional until the music stopped. And when he opened his eyes, he found himself face to face with the singer, and he was talking to him, to Imp!
"So I see you've found your vest then, Ry."
And the voice whispered again, Brendon. That was his name. And the others... Spencer and Jon, but then, who was Ry?
And they were all staring at him like they were expecting something, and he found himself turning around and looking over his shoulder expecting to see Glod behind him, but their practice room was gone, and instead, he was standing in a room surrounded by black trunks spilling open clothes, and they didn't seem the least surprised to see him.
And just as he started to open his mouth to speak, he realized that he didn't feel exactly... himself.
"Ryan, you okay?" Brendon said, laying a hand on his shoulder.
He touched me, ohmygod he touched me! Imp thought and had to fight the urge to throw his underpants at the singer. Or burst into tears. Or tackle him and rip his clothes off.
"I'll be right back," Imp said, and he walked quickly through the first door he saw. There...there was a mirror in there, and he stared into it. He slowly raised his hand up. The boy in the mirror did the same thing. Imp took a step to the right. The boy mirrored his movement exactly. Imp thought hard for a moment. It wasn't possible was it? But it had to be, or... wait, Imp knew what the problem was. It wasn't the first time he'd been hit in the head and knocked silly by people throwing things. Or maybe it was one of Lias' hammers. He had a tendency to drop them. The last time he'd dropped it on Glod's foot, and the band had broken up for like a week before Glod grudgingly came back. He needed the money. And then there was the time that Brendon got hit with the bottle and...
Ryan stared blankly at the dwarf. His eyes travelled to the sculpture in the corner, of a bunch of rocks in front of a large rock holding hammers. Except... this rock had eyes. And it was moving. And... was that rock talking? Since when did rocks talk? Don't call it a rock if you value your life. some voice whispered to him. He wasn't sure it was his. It's a Troll named Lias. Your bandmate.
"One, two, many, lots," it said. Ryan had a moment of disbelief, like his stomach acid was trying to find a new way to make him sick, like he wasn't quite in the right body. And they were looking at him expectantly. The dwarf Glod had a horn in his hands. The rocks on the floor were the troll's drums. And him... he looked around and saw the harp. Oh. And Ryan had a moment of sheer terror and disbelief that this was happening, just before he fainted.
Imp realised he was expected to go out on stage and play. They thought he was Ryan. He was Ryan. The thought made him queasy, though luckily the other boys took this for a sudden attack of pre-show jitters. Luckily, he seemed to have gained all Ryan Ross’s memories, so hopefully that meant he’d remember how to play the songs as well. And really, that part was kind of exciting, Imp thought. I’ll get to play the songs I want to hear! He wished Susan could see him now. No, wait! What if she liked this Ryan boy better? But did it matter? Imp found himself a bit confused about. After all, if he was in this body for good, then maybe he’d have a better chance with Susan after all. Except one problem. He wasn’t in Ankh-Morpork anymore.
His line of thought was interrupted when Spencer dragged him by the arm to the stage, and then suddenly, the music took over his body and dragged Imp along with it. It was the best show he’d ever seen, except for the shrill screams of all the girls in the audience. But when Brendon leaned in...Imp knew he was supposed to move back, but in one violent act of rebellion against this body, he didn’t. Brendon’s lips brushed over his just slightly, and Imp was glad that this Ryan wore constricting underpants, because these pants were suddenly feeling very uncomfortable indeed.
Ryan woke up with a sinking heart and feeling distinctly like a drowned rat. Not only had it not been a dream, but he’d just had a bucket of water thrown over his head by a troll. Worse, he had no idea how he was going to get back to his Panic! bandmates. Don’t panic! he thought and fought the urge to giggle hysterically.
Sometime in that faint, the whisper filled him in. He was trapped in the body of a Llamedan bard who most emphatically wasn’t an elf. Well, at least he was good looking. This Susan girl didn’t sound bad, either. Well, might as well make the best of it, at least until he could get to the wizards. Maybe they could get him back in his old body.
Lias and Glod were still staring at him anxiously.
“We’re going to need a piano,” he told them. “And a towel.”
If Imp thought the show was the best thing of his life, then being told he was sharing a hotel room with Brendon trumped it by a mile. Except for the fact that Brendon kept twitching and eating Ryan’s my gummy bears, and everytime he moved or spoke, Imp felt Ryan’s heart speed up painfully. Brendon naked in my room! Imp fought the urge to dance.
When they got to the hotel, Brendon sped ahead of him, jumping into the door calling “First shower!” By the time Imp got there, Brendon had stripped down to his boxers. Imp sucked in a breath sharply, causing Brendon to look up curiously. “You alright?”
“Stubbed my toe on the door,” Imp said, tossing Ryan’s bag down on one of the beds.
Brendon disappeared into the bathroom, and Imp could hear the shower running. He fell back on the bed, exhausted, and promptly fell asleep.