This was new to me in ways more than one; not only is it not a video game, but it's a live-action movie. Anyway, I hope I caught the characters in a light appropriate enough to accurately portray them. Enjoy!
Riff Raff worked silently in the large mansion of Dr. Frank N. Furter, the latter in a different part of the house and presumably being entertained by something scientific or Columbia. Magenta wasn't in the room, either; she was upstairs cleaning one of the many bedrooms. Riff himself was absentmindedly dusting the same stuffed jaguar with a literal boa around its shoulders, a surly grimace on his gaunt face.
Riff really didn't mind doing labour; it passed the time and gave him something to do as compared to having hours to himself and finding nothing to occupy himself. He also realized that, as much time as he spent with Magenta, the two of them spent a lot of time away from each other. Frank often split them apart when assigning duties, a task Riff was pretty sure was designed on purpose to minimize time between them. However, Frank assumed their relationship was only one of brother and sister, and not on a level that was understood by potential lovers. It was subliminal and private for now, but Riff imagined the lovely day that they would be able to return to their own planet Transsexual. It was thoughts like this that sent Riff into long daydreams about what could be instead of what was, and he was a butler for a "Sweet Transvestite" in a dirty old mansion in the middle of a forest.
He finished his job with little care and more or less with a bored and lackadaisical attitude. He stepped back and gazed at his work with a distant expression on his face, seeming to stare at the still dusty taxidermy jaguar but really thinking about where he would've been had he not been assigned to accompany Frank to this planet.
However, his thought process was cut short by an unexpected arrival. "Hmm… It doesn't look like any work got done here," Said a stern, yet seductive voice that belonged to a male who had spent years perfecting his craft. Riff didn't jump, but the inside of him wasn't expecting Frank to suddenly appear out of thin air and critique his job. Riff blinked and turned his icy, lazy gaze upon the transvestite scientist.
"My apologies, Master, I got… Distracted," Riff replied in his usual tone of stiff politeness with sly undertones. He kept his eyes glued to Frank, holding the feather duster at his side tightly.
"Well, you'd better stop getting distracted or I'll give you a bigger hump on your back, and then some on your head," Frank snarled, seizing Riff's duster and giving him a sturdy thwack on the back with the handle. Riff let pain paint his face for an instant before he quickly recovered. The doctor dropped the feather duster and sauntered out of the room. Riff, rubbing his back, stooped and picked the duster up. He glared after Frank with malice in his blue eyes and bit his lower lip as he tenderly rubbed the bruising skin on his back.
"And yet…" Frank's voice sounded from the room next door. Riff hurriedly got back to what he was doing, eager not to receive another blow on his already-tender back. Frank re-entered the room, his expression and tone gentler than previously. He approached Riff Raff, and the latter took a step back instinctively. "Oh, don't be afraid, Riff Raff. I won't hurt you again." Frank soothed, reaching forward and stroking Riff's cheek with his index finger. Riff didn't shy away this time, but gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He hated it when the Master acted like this; starting angry, and eventually softening to a romantic flirt.
Riff wondered if Frank acted this way on purpose. Riff, despite coming from a planet called Transsexual, was perfectly straight, albeit he might have been incestuous with his sister. Though Riff had a natural need to feel needed and wanted by anyone in general, he had no desire to ever waste something as secretive as sex with anyone, especially Frank. All the years of working for Frank, and Riff Raff had never made any sort of movement towards the flamboyant scientist, not even so much as a casual glance. True, Riff always seemed to have a couple of traits about him that made him appear otherwise; a distant look on his face that suggested something was on his mind and an involuntary twitch that tugged on the corner of his mouth gave others the impression that he found something mildly amusing. However, he had always been a reserved individual who was rather happy spending either time with Magenta or by himself. He never found anyone else's company nearly as enjoyable. And yet he was forced to take whatever abuse he was given, whether Frank himself thought of it as rather enjoyable or not.
"I've always liked your hair," Frank cooed, fingering several strands of Riff's long, greasy blond hair. Riff opened his eyes slowly and he looked away. "That colour, that colour is perfect. You know, I have half a mind to create something big; and I always see your hair when I consider what colour to choose for his own." He complimented, continuing to play with Riff's hair.
"Thank you, Master," Riff said in a monotonous tone, still avoiding Frank's eyes. This wasn't the first time all this has happened, either; only last time, he had ordered Riff to intoxicate himself and meet Frank for a rendezvous in Frank's lab. Riff had initially refused, but Frank fixed this by spiking Riff's drink that night. Riff, under the effects of a strange drug, unwitting walked up to Frank's room. Frank, rather tipsy himself, met him up there not long after Riff's arrival. Riff had gotten so close to meeting Frank in bed that the thought about it afterward almost brought tears to the handyman's eyes. He managed to escape by a peculiar and coincidental riot that ensued in front of the Furter Mansion which involved several angry bikers and a couple of prostitutes that complained of "not getting paid in full". A startled Frank left Riff in the room by himself and Magenta had a chance to help Riff escape, leading him out of the room with his arm around her shoulders. Frank and Riff left off on this awkward note, neither one of them bringing it up. As for the bikers and the prostitutes… They were never heard from again.
"And I love your… Eye colour," Frank whispered in his ear, placing a palm on Riff's cheek and stroking his face with his thumb. Riff didn't react, feeling Frank's warm, soft skin against his pale and gaunt face. "That.. .piercing shade of blue accompanies your hair nicely." Riff, still looking away, lifted the feather duster slightly.
"…Thank you, Master," He replied quietly, lowering the duster again. Frank, feeling that Riff Raff wasn't going the same way he was, removed his hand from Riff's cheek. He took a step or two back and smiled at Riff. "I'm going back upstairs, now. Meet me up there when you're done." He commanded before turning and walking away at a brisk pace. Riff waited until Frank was out of the room before dropping the feather duster and falling against the wall, covering his face with his hand. The bruise on his back was still sore, but he ignored it. A cold sweat broke out on his brow and he breathed heavily, as if he just lifted heavy objects. Not in a long time had Riff wanted to kill someone so badly. Not in a long time had Riff wanted to maim and torture and threaten and brutalize and traumatize.
Not in a long time had Riff Raff wanted so badly to cry.