Nothing but static, static, static, filling up his brain, clouding his vision, forcing his lips to close into a straight line, enveloping every inch of his body from the tip of his toes to the top of his head. Screaming in his ear. Crying out to his bruised elbows and knees and his aching hands and wrists and his newly split lip and his ever-worn bones and his old soul.
Static there in the form of an elegantly gloved hand pressing against his arm and his face and it FEELS like too much, it feels venomous, it feels like there’s something IN HIS BLOODSTREAM that he simply can’t cut out, that he can’t be cured from – Frank’s voice, his words, his meaning, is IN HIS SKIN, and it feels like VIOLATION.
He’s hit. It feels like lightning. Falling on the ground is the sinister rumble of thunder rippling through his brain.
Aforementioned aching hands press against the ground, and soon it’s his forehead that’s on the ground as he’s attempting to twist away from the other’s looming figure, without much success – he’s like a STUBBORN CHILD refusing to meet the gaze of the accusing parent, only this time the consequences staring him in the face are much more apparent.
(He hates this part. He wished he had more STRENGTH to defend himself, even to SPEAK – to say OF COURSE I LOVE HER, SHE’S THE ONLY THING I’VE EVER LOVED, YOU COULD NEVER HAVE THE POWER TO TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME, SHE IS AS UNSHATTERABLE AS A DIAMOND, UNLIKE YOUR FRAGILE EGO, UNLIKE YOUR GLASS BONES; I BELONG TO NO ONE, I MADE MY OWN DESTINY, I PAVED MY OWN PATH, YOU ARE THE ONE WHO STOLE ME AWAY, YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MY NIGHTMARE, YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MY NIGHTMARE.)
(But lord, he was so tired. So sleep deprived. Overworked. Hurt. Angry. Upset. So many emotions and not at all. It was too much. Far too much happening all at once, inside and outside just one man.)
Instead, there he lies. Arms wrapped over his head. Face hidden in the tacky carpet, that of which is surely being dotted with the red from his lip. He’s as still and unmovable as steel. He does not greet Frank’s physical or verbal abuse with the groveling cries that Frank might desire; in fact, he does not even grant the prince a response at all.
He’s just lying there.
reptilian eyes burn invisible holes into the servant, && words, like FANGS dripping with poison, rip and tear at the man in frank’s grasp. now, he can CEASE ; now, he can set riff raff free – after all, this SUBMISSION had been his goal all along, hadn’t it ? but that agony, SWEET like the blood of virgins, glistening in the handyman’s eye calls the scientist’s name, tugs at his very soul. MORE, croons the devil in frank’s black heart. MORE, whispers his boiling blood.
but those eyes, MISERABLE & PLEADING, are then hidden in the rough fabric of the carpet beneath them, and somehow their absence fans the FLAMES of the furter’s wrath. frank is silent as he rises, shadowed lids heavy, gazing upon the servant’s WILTED form. this is his rightfulplace. this is his only purpose.
one diamantéHEEL is forced into the man’s back, an almost preparatory gesture before the prince draws back && KICKS, not only once and not only twice, but THREE TIMES does he strike. ‘ you are weak. ’ frank tells him, GRIMACING upon his helplessness. ‘ you are weak, GENERAL, weak ! oh, you sicken me. i should never have brought you along – you or your wretched sister. ’
again he kicks, just once more. ‘ remember who your MASTER is, general riff raff. remember that you are here only to SERVE ME. ’ the prince turns, && heels click about the room, the same noisy shoes that had only just been BEATING & BRUISINGthe servant. sweating, mind buzzing from the ECSTASY of power, of dominion, the furter pours golden liquid into a chalice of pure transsexualian crystal. the glass is cold against his plump, painted lips, & with a glance back at the handyman, still ever so quiet, ever so motionless, the doctor SCOFFS.
‘ STAND, riff raff. be the strong man your sister believes you are. ’
All his life, there had been little Riff wanted to put up with. Not jeering classmates, not the gaping void of mysteries that was where he came from or who brought him into this universe, not his mother’s indifference, not his father’s abuse. But he would put up with it if it meant the classmates were surprised when he reared his fist, if it meant that no past coiled around his wrist and ankles like shackles, if it meant he could control his own destiny freely, if it meant he could protect Magenta.
His feet dragging against tackily carpeted floors is what felt like rearing his fist. It felt like protecting Magenta. It felt like controlling his own destiny, despite his apparent lack of control. But as he closed the distance between the scientist and himself, it also felt like walking straight into his father’s fist. Sometimes, to be quite honest, Riff could tell no difference between Frank and the man that Riff had first come to despise; both condescending, both underestimated him, both HURT him so beyond fixing and had left Riff feeling twisted into coils and so angry that he wasn’t sure where or if his anger ever stopped.
“Yes, master.” He says in nothing more than a whisper, standing in front of the man. His words were affirmative, but it didn’t take a master scientist to tell that Riff’s eyes & lifted chin spelled hatred. For scarecely a moment, his eyes closed; he remembered still being a child, he still remembered the bruises and the fear and the hurt and the anger, oh, the ANGER, SO UNCONTROLLABLE, it was MURDEROUS. But who, exactly, it was murdering was beyond Riff Raff.
Opening his eyes, Riff found himself internally clutching at that all-too-brief memory, clutching it with desperation, tighter than he’d ever held anything. Holding it. Letting him fuel himself. Because although this situation DIDN’T feel like control, Riff knew that there was a solution to this murderous rage, to this horrible injustice. And to know that almost prompted a smile on his lips.
despite the barely - there SPITE that lingers upon the tongue of the handyman – the spite that frank has detected & will soon use ruthlessly AGAINST riff raff – there’s the quiver of HUMILIATION in his voice and it’s exhilarating ; this is how things ought to always be, with the ones ABOVE smirking tauntingly down at the ones BELOW, at the ones with little power but with ACHING, raging hearts.
gloved fingers CURL, tight & unrelenting, round the servant’s right arm ; free digits move to grip his jaw, SQUEEZING there as if to emphasize the inferno burning within his breast, flames licking at a FROZEN heart.
‘ do you LOVE your sister – magenta? ’ says he at last, though he knows the answer, too well, in fact. the handyman lives for the domestic – frank imagines he’ll DIE for her just as soon, & she for him. the hand that restrains the servant’s face falls away, but returns with a BLISTERING swat. the prince, no longer patient, no longer stolid, RAISES his voice : ‘ look at me, you idiot, you coward – i can take her from you. i can SHATTER whatever happiness you’ve got left, the happiness you find in HER. ’
a well - timed push has the scientist LOOMING over the servant, hands firm on his shoulders, knees on either side of the smaller man’s waist. ‘ you belong to me, she belongs to me. REMEMBER THIS, riff raff – ’ the furter all but snarls, delicate skin surely bruising beneath his unforgiving hand. ‘ i can pick you apart. oh, i can be your NIGHTMARE ! ’
It’s when the other’s inquiry shoots from his lips like a dagger, going through his BACK, that Riff initially freezes in place. Oh, perhaps he WAS a fool: he let the game – the game which he thought he knew so well, the game in which he let Frank walk all over him and knew how to maneuver his way around the other’s WHIMS and COMMANDS – take advantage of his EMOTIONS. Stupid, stupid decision! Already was Riff steeling himself, knowing that it was a downward slope from here – think of Magenta, think of Magenta –
Harshly is he shoved forward, and he stumbles rather clumsily, gloved hands throwing themselves out to catch on something that could keep him from falling over. Luckily, a post on the other’s bed was within range, and he righted himself with lucky ease. He’s almost behind the post, now, but still within the range of Frank’s grasp, sadly: he’d take anything that could be between them. Anything.
There’s so much he wants to say. Bullshit if you’re grateful for anything that I do for you, you awful, disgusting person. I don’t owe you ANYTHING. Royalty or not, you CANNOT speak to me like this. I AM NOT STUPID. I AM NOT FOOLISH. I AM NOT YOUR TOY; I WILL NOT BE CHEWED UP AND SPIT OUT. I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU!
Shakily, he inhales. “My sincerest apologies, master.”
He’s bowing his head in APOLOGY (or, perhaps, in submission, seeing as he wanted to get whatever was coming next OVER with), brows creased and shoulders hunched in anticipation for the other’s blow, which he assumed would be coming soon hereafter. “Is there– anything else you. need. Master. Anything.” It’s nothing more than a mumble, his severely DAMAGED PRIDE shining through his monotonous inquiry.
it’s hardly riff raff’s behavior that so irks the furter anymore, but the idea that the handyman sees it so FIT, so perfectly FINE to act so foolishly … and he recoils, he bows his head ; had he anticipated no CONSEQUENCE ? no retribution for his intolerable stupidity ? the prince scoffs, & suddenly he SPITS upon the servant, for no pitiful apology can erase the memory of riff raff’s errors – in fact, frank still remembers the FIRST of the handyman’s follies, && VIVIDLY. this one, the royal inventor decides with a disarming sneer, will not be exempt from his LETHALgrudge.
PLEASED but scarcely SATISFIED by riff raff’s capitulation, frank steps just slightly backward, almost admiring his callous work, the state in which the handyman has been so wickedly PLUNGED.
‘ your sincerest apologies – oh, INDEED. ’ it’s moments like THESE that the prince all but treasures, that lead him to recall how very EROTIC it is to have someone at your mercy. his skin crawls from the sensation, & a light sweat even beads upon his brow ; CONTROL gets him so hot. ‘ STAND, riff raff, ’ demands the scientist, gloved arms coming to rest haughtily over his breast. that freshly painted mouth curves into a cruel grin, jade eyes narrowing & contracting, surveying the handyman, his diminished dignity. ‘ & come here. i muchDESIRE to re - enlighten you of the rules: you TRAGICALLY seem to have forgotten them. ’
“Yes, your highness; I do have a sister.” Riff’s voice seems to STRENGTHEN, albeit ever-so-slightly: this was a subject he knew, a subject that was enough to give him strength – solid ground to stand on amongst the Prince’s well-known unpredictability, if you will. However, Riff is knocked off course once more, blinking in surprise at the other’s rather intentional DEROGATORY comment. Was… was he supposed to disagree? Was he allowed to disagree? All he can do is chuckle rather QUIETLY (in shock, honestly, as if he can’t believe his ears) and shake his head. “– she is… quite the opposite, sir, I assure you. You will find that she will be of utmost assistance… regarding our mission.” (Frank’s mother. What a bitch. Was a mental note Riff made, one that he’d made SEVERAL times throughout his career.)
Riff could only hope that no more WORDS about MAGENTA would come from Frank’s mouth in such a way. He was already struggling to find the other to be an AGREEABLE business partner. It would be hard to work with the other on their research of a human’s biological framework if Frank was DEAD because he said too many things Riff didn’t LIKE.
(Oh, Riff. If only you knew what was ahead.)
Knocked off course once more by the other’s sudden burst of anger, Riff finds himself blinking away confusion and turning vaguely to look at the empty space behind him. “I – do believe that it’s being prepared for our… mission, your highness.” He explains, appalled at the other’s sudden IMPATIENCE. “There are many things that must be… taken care of. To make our trip an easy one, you see. It shall all be in readiness soon.”
Was Frank an idiot, or did he really think that Riff hadn’t prepared a ship for this mission that had been in the works for months? He was, in all honesty, beginning to assume the former. His chest inflating and deflating with subtlety and silence, Riff sighed. It was going to be a long trip.
‘ i beg your PARDON, general – i do not anticipate an EASY trip. ’ which, in more than a few ways, is true ; easy is almost always synonymous with lazy, or so the prince maintains, & this grand mission is to be nothing of the sort. why, it is a MISSION, after all, & not a HOLIDAY. ‘ & nor should you, nor should your sister, however HOMELY or however FAIR she truly is : we are to endure hours of TOIL, but with great reward, i assure you. ’ but the young doctor’s assurances are nearly as FLIMSY as the fabrics that clothe him.
the general is WISE, frank decides. his words are careful & nearly cautious, his posture erect … so why, then, does he speak of EASE ?surely, a general of his distinction ( albeit a distinction the prince himself, until now, had been unaware of ) knows that marvelous things aren’t born from EASINESS.
‘ where is SHE, then ? ’ inquires the furter, so far pleased with his gawky companion & therefore eager to lay eyes upon the woman he calls sister, to discover the extent of her pulchritude for himself. the queen, frank recalls, has a NASTY tendency to belittle & make mock of young transylvanian girls ; ENVIOUS, perhaps, of their slight frames, though she’d be publicly whipped before admitting to such a thing. simpering, the furter glances to the general. ‘ i am justGIDDY to meet her. ’
‘ WELL, REALLY – you could have KNOCKED, ’ comes the scientist’s inevitable grimace upon the handyman’s entrance. ‘ but ! since you’re here, come see. ’ frank has taken an extraordinary liking to a new corset, one that clings loosely to the prince’s waist, its laces undone. ‘ mm, what do you think? i, personally, think it’s very – erm – ME. will you help ? ’ he turns on his heel, narrows his eyes. ‘ see, i CAN do it myself, but it is a little tough. come closer, riff raff. ’
Oh, no. This game. Riff knows this game. Riff is horrendously aware of this game. Horrendously aware of heavily makeuped eyes unmoving from his face (it made his fresh crawl, his heart constrict, his brain spin with anxiety – that old voice, that child’s voice, in his head that just wanted to cry out DON’T LOOK AT ME DON’T LOOK AT ME DON’T LOOK AT ME). Horrendously aware of the moment that the atmosphere transitioned from smooth, mocking JOKES to Frank looking for an opportunity for the servant – for goodness’ sake, the General, the GENERAL – to SLIP UP. Why? Why was Frank like this? He didn’t think he’d ever understand. Never understand why he was paired up with him. Never understand why he willingly stepped on to the ship. Never understand why they set foot on Earth. Never understand why here he was, sitting on a vanity table coloring pale lips with ruby.
Riff kept his straight face. He never once returned Frank’s gaze. With a final, small dab on the corner of the other’s lip, he set down the lipstick, trying to keep the swirling EMOTIONS that boiled under the surface of his icy demeanor UNDER CONTROL. He was just so frustrated, so humiliated, so angry– and all caused by a kiss and a STARE.
And it all came down to the fact, that ever present, unchanging fact that Riff hated Frank so much. Riff hated how Frank had the POWER to make him feel.
“It is finished.” It’s nothing more than a murmur & he’s slipping off the table, away from the other. Going to cower. Going to brood. Anywhere away from Frank where he can feel like he has some kind of SLIVER of power over himself, at least.
the TENSION is smothering, the most venomous of words burn in the doctor’s throat &ITCH at the roof of his mouth, wholly prepared for whatever sort of eruption that the general, however unbeknownst to himself, may conjure. frank, more than a bit DISAPPOINTED in riff raff, his damned stoic eyes & unchattering teeth, immediately massages glistening lips against each other, filling in any spots the handyman could have MISSED. gazing upon himself, painted & glowing, the prince raises a neatly exaggerated brow at the noise of riff raff’s footsteps, echoing hurriedly AWAY.
‘ … have i DISMISSED you, riff raff ? ’ leisurely, he rises ; crosses the room, & that odious stare falls upon the prince’s servant once more. frank comes to a halt just behind the handyman, one foot drumming impatiently against the floor. ‘ i am indeed GRATEFUL for your talents, ’ says the viper of a man, a patronizing hand pressed firmly against riff raff’s shoulder. ‘ – but you remain insufferablyFOOLISH. how stupid, the things that you do : just why do you find it so APPROPRIATE to exit the chamber before you’ve been TOLD to do so ? ’
he scoffs, & without warning, SHOVES the smaller man forward. ‘ you will FACE ME when i address you. ’
“ – Thank you, master,” he’s replying quickly as ever after the other’s coy seal of approval over his hard work, not because he was actually WORRIED Frank would be displeased with Riff’s work – oh, no, Riff would lose no sleep over the other’s FEELINGS, except for when he literally lost sleep because of how early he had to wake up – but because that blatant ‘WONDERFUL’ meant that Riff wouldn’t, indeed, have to do it all over again. Finally, they could move on without worry!
Riff was almost pleased with this turn of events, that is until events turned once more and Frank kissed him.
(It wasn’t the FIRST time Frank had initiated such contact – God only knew Riff would never initiate it, not only because of a STATUS type difference, but because he found Frank REPULSIVE in many senses – so he wasn’t quite surprised. But although not surprised, he still couldn’t keep himself from tensing, from leaning a little further away once the contact had ceased. After all, at this point, Frank’s affections were just as unwelcome as his abuses were, meaningless though both actions seemed to be to the other.)
If only to tease the other, he indiscreetly wiped his own lips on the back of his hand and rolled his eyes. Wordlessly but not without a smirk, Riff Raff began the task of filling in the other’s lip with his selected ruby red, taking his SWEET TIME to ensure SILENCE.
eldritch chuckling only AMPLIFIES in response to the handyman’s reaction, & frank, nearly gushing with quiet confidence, perfects a pout to be smothered in CRIMSON. his viridescent gaze, sharp & provocative, is locked upon riff raff : the smaller man is PREY, more so now than he’s ever been. of course, the master does not & never willDESIRE the servant – this gauche seduction is only a game, some WICKED test that the furter craves will have the handyman kissing his feet for perhaps an extra decade.
unwilling to smear fine, red cream across his carefully made face & therefore unable to SPEAK, the doctor sits in heavy silence, not once averting his eyes from those of his servant. surely, the way that frank all but SCRUTINIZES riff will distract the man, cause him to meet the furter’s POISONOUS stare, cause his delicate hand to SLIP& give the scientist a reason ( as if he truly needs one ) to raise his voice, perhaps even his FIST.
At the other’s BLUNT reply, Riff literally cannot stifle the CHUCKLE that bursts forth from his lips. It was in that very moment that Riff probably had the MOST respect for Frank. What an intelligent answer, what a smart choice! Really, Riff was the least trustworthy person on this godforsaken planet. In a tone that was as AMUSED as the other’s was FLAT, Riff replies, “Fair enough.” Maybe now Frank’s feelings wouldn’t be too hurt when Riff inevitably would slit his pretty throat, right??? Because it was mornings when Riff was already working harder than he WANTED that that seemed like the most logical solution.
“I know.” He assures him, and hastily adds: “No. It’s drying.” He’s capping the mascara wand and reaching down for the others favorite shade of LIPSTICK. “– You can open now. There is only one one part left.” The part that he was ALREADY ready to get over with. He had been close enough to the others LIPS for one day, he’d decided.
frank’s GIGGLING, too, despite how very hard he tries to keep a particularly unbothered expression. ‘ it isn’t so FUNNY, ’ the doctor insists, voice choppy with suppressed laughter. ‘ – i’m nearly frightened to open my eyes ! oh, stars, i’ll bet you’ve made such a MESS of my face ! ’ & he knows how biting he must sound ; what does riff raff know of making one’s face ? frank shifts once more, his legs becoming numb. uncrosses them, OPENS his eyes at last.
‘ wonderful, ’ he says, strangely COY. the scientist spots the lipstick in riff raff’s grasp, a deep shade of BLOOD RED ; devil togue runs across soon to be painted lips, the very same lips that are pressed QUICKLY & THOUGHTLESSLY against the handyman’s. the meaningless contact is followed by the doctor’s deep, sinful snickering, echoing darkly in the back of his throat. ‘ –NOW. make them red, by whatever means you choose. ’
While the PRINCE is all loose garments and silk curtains and a sort of odd GRACE, Riff is the complete OPPOSITE: the General stands RIGID, back STRAIGHTENED, uniform in order and expression a solid ICE that looked completely unbreakable. This, of course, betrayed the BITTERNESS and the NERVES that plagued him: he was going away from HOME, Transsexual, LAND OF NIGHT, the only place he had ever known. His chest felt tied in complicated KNOTS with worry and anxiety. Magenta, the night before, had assured him that everything would be FINE since they were going together, but still. THE UNKNOWN was laid out before him in the form of this rather BEAUTIFUL man. Riff didn’t like not knowing what to expect: he’d much rather have his cards all gathered up in front of him.
He breathed in rather sharply, and gave an equally sharp nod. It was going to be a long trip.
“– Yes, your highness. I am .. General Riff Raff. It is an honor… a privilege, really… to have been assigned to be beside you on this mission.” He affirms in a monotonous matter, not necessarily trying to hide the fact that those words were almost completely scripted. At the other’s inquiry– WHAT WAS RIFF THE GENERAL OF? WAS HE SERIOUS? – a brow is raised, but he shakes it off so as to not show any disrespect. Riff decides to brush it off, favoring the idea that Frank was only KIDDING. “She… ah.” That was a curveball. The old Queen didn’t like Riff very much, and that was a fact. But how was he supposed to respond? “No, sir, but… she must trust me enough to put you in my care, your highness.” It felt like a mess of words, but it was all Riff had just spoken. Feeling scrambled, he bows his head in APOLOGY.
Yep. It was going to be a long trip. Riff’s dignity already felt nonexistent.
‘ RIFF RAFF. excellent,’ the young furter, STUDYING the man before him, clicks his tongue. ‘ now, we are acquainted. i feel it would be terribly senseless for me to INTRODUCE MYSELF, ahem – mother mentioned you’ve a sister. an UGLY one, she told me. ’ pale, pink lips curve into a WICKEDsneer ; fortunately for the prince, general riff raff is subservient, LOYAL to his superiors. tucking a jet - black curl behind his ear, frank moves along, heels clicking with each swaying stride. ‘ i do hope she’s SWEET like you, ’ he croons poisonously, examining his surroundings : suddenly, they are more interesting than the general.
silently admiring riff raff’s SMALLNESS& hoping for similar behavior from the sister that’d been spoken of, the prince hums a single note before inquiring : ‘ where is the ship ? i was told – PROMISED – that there would be a ship. i don’t imagine we’ll be going much of ANYWHERE without one. ’ he turns on his heel, narrows emerald eyes at the general. ‘ i asked you a question, general. where is it ? have i gone ABSOLUTELY BLIND, or is it true that there is no damned SHIP in sight ?! ’
he sashays into the room, adorned in silk, lace, & FURS, milky white skin visible through the luxurious fabrics. the prince moves with a confident sort of GRACE, noisily crossing the floor to stand before the much tinier man : the much tinier man that frank had EXPECTED to be much larger. ‘ urgh– just what are you the GENERAL of ? i mean, really. ’ of course, laughter then echoes about the pair, the same way GASPS of working - class transies do at the very sight of the brat prince. ‘ mother hasn’t said much of you, general. i don’t think she LIKESYOU very much, mm. ’
