I own nothing but my OC's :)
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This charade was getting a little tiresome now. I didn't expect or hope for much when I got into Cynthia's car. She smiled at me, her neon orange dangly earrings framing her face. Cynthia always had been a little kooky.
"Cheer up, Evie!" She chirped, starting the engine.
"Hm" Was my reply.
I dug around in my battered satchel until I found my iPod. Music was my faithful companion. It was never far, never left me, never changed. My iPod was my most treasured possession and I flipped if anyone even touched it. To me music was a very personal thing. I cranked the volume to drown out the sound of the terrible music Cynthia was playing on her crackly stereo.
I leaned my head against the cool window, and dwelled on my past. My mother had been a show girl, a brilliant dancer, so I had been told. And my father had been a undiscovered talent, amazing at playing the guitar. My parents had met backstage one night, and had married in a spur of the moment fashion just two weeks later, picking out a ballerina and ventriloquist to be witnesses. When I was just four months old, my father was shot after trying to help when a gang fight broke out. Devastated and heart broken, my mother stopped looking after me properly. My own grandmother reported her to social services, and I was whisked away. And then my mother killed herself.
I used to wonder how my life would have been if my parents were still alive. I'd be travelling around with them whilst they performed, no doubt. Maybe my father would be a big shot by now. But I had stopped fantasizing when I grew up.
"Here we are" Cynthia announced.
I jerked up, looking out of my window. We were driving down a narrow road, lined by trees. Once we had passed the gloom, a castle appeared. A tall wrought iron gate built surrounded the castle, making it hard to make out. Cynthia had forgotten to tell me this little detail. Were my new family millionaires, or something? I was out of the car before it had even rolled to a stop properly.
"Apparently we're just to walk straight through" Cynthia muttered, pushing open the gate. A creak shrieked through the air, making a flock of birds twitter and scatter into the sky.
I paused by a sign. It had been painted untidily with black paint. "Enter At Your Own Risk!!". I frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Cynthia pulled me along. I was starting to get a bad feeling about this, sure I was about to move in with a bunch of weirdos.
Two stone griffins guarded either side of the door. I looked at them with mild interest as Cynthia rang the bell, and stood back with a smile ready on her face. It took only a short while for somebody to answer. The door also creaked. I'd have to introduce these people to oil. Cynthia's smile faltered however when she saw our greeter.
It was a man, tall and stick thin. His blond hair was stringy and his piercing blue eyes baggy. He looked dishevelled, and I hoped very much that I was mistaking the red stains on his shirt to be blood. "Hello" He drawled in a monotone. He sounded British.
"Erm, hi" Cynthia struggled to compose herself, "I'm looking for Frank N Furter?" She queried.
"Ah, yes. You had better come inside" The man stepped aside to let us pass.
"Are you a relation of Mr Furter's?" Cynthia asked.
The man seemed to smirk, "I am the butler here. My name is Riff Raff" He explained.
Riff Raff. Yep, definitely weirdos. Cynthia looked as though she was having second thoughts on leaving me here.
Riff Raff hobbled off without another word to us. I noticed that he had a hunchback. My eyes wandered around the room. There was a staircase, with animal heads wearing party hats, and other decorations, travelling up the wall. A handsome Grandfather clock ticked beside us, and I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw a stuffed leopard, stanced for attack. There was also a door leading off to a different room.
"Hello, hello, hello" A voice spoke mysteriously. Like the butler, this man also sounded British.
I heard a creak, and automatically turned to look at the stairs. A man was descending it. And, oh, what a man. He had an Afro of raven black hair, and his handsome face was heavily made up. I had never seen that much make up before even on a woman. But it was his clothes that got me. He wore nothing but a purple velvet corset, fishnets, shiny black hot pants, and a pair of sparkling purple stilettos that looked impossible to walk with.
Cynthia's eyes were almost bulging out of their sockets. "H-hello" She yelped.
"I am Frank N Furter" The newcomer announced. He arrived in the hall, and stood in front of Cynthia. He took her hand, kissing it. "Its a pleasure".
Cynthia giggled ridiculously. I simply folded my arms. Frank looked at me, "And you must be Evie. How do you do?" He extended a gloved hand.
"Fine, thanks" I said without enthusiasm, keeping my arms pressed against my chest.
Frank's eye twitched, as though he wanted to glare at me. He let his hand droop. "I'm so glad you came" He said, trying to sound welcoming.
"Its a lovely place you have here" Cynthia said. Her eyes weren't on Frank, they were on his legs.
Frank seemed to notice this. He smirked, drawing himself to full height, "Feel free to visit whenever you want" He said softly.
"I will" Cynthia looked at me, "To visit Evie, of course" She added quickly.
"Of course" Frank nodded, his dark eyes glittering.
"I had better get g-going" Cynthia looked as though she very much wanted to stay. She patted my shoulder, took one last longing glance at Frank, and left.
"I haven't got much" I said, lifting up my satchel.
"I'll get Magenta to show you to your room" Frank replied.
"Do you have a lot of staff, then?" I asked.
"Just two" Frank took a step back, and lifted his head to the ceiling, "MAGENTAA!" He yelled, making the glass on the clock rattle.
He folded his arms impatiently. A woman appeared on the stairs. She was quite small and curvy, dressed in a French maids uniform. A doily was perched on top of her vivacious red hair, which reminded me of a dandelion clock. "Yes, master?" She asked in a throaty voice. I didn't quite recognise her accent.
"Show Evie here to her room" Frank ordered.
Magenta looked at me, and I smiled at her, though she didn't return it. This was going to be a happy relationship. I started to climb the stairs, not even taking a look back at Frank. I'd be gone from here soon, like everywhere else. I found it impossible to fit in anywhere. I couldn't wait until I was old enough to not need a guardian.
Magenta was a very silent woman. She lead me down long corridors and up rickety stairs. We reached a door and Magenta stopped, gripping the handle. She pushed the door open and went inside, so I followed. The room wasn't very well decorated or furnished. There was a basin in the corner, and a bed with a pink canopy sheet over it. There was a wardrobe that was almost missable, with a shelf and a chair on either side of it.
"This is your room" Magenta told me, incase I hadn't quite caught on yet.
"Its very..." I couldn't find a word.
"Shall I leave you to get settled?" Magenta asked.
"Nah, I'll do it later" I shrugged, throwing my bag onto the floor and walking back out into the corridor.
Magenta actually smiled. She was much prettier when she did.
"Who else lives here?" I asked as we started to walk again.
I was running away tonight if the only residents here were a transvestite with a huge ego, a hunch backed butler and a depressed maid.
"There are four others" Magenta replied simply.
"Oh?" I prompted.
"Frank's current play thing, Rocky. Frank's old play thing, Columbia. Frank's son, Francesca, and my daughter, Bracken" Magenta explained
"Francesca? But that's a girls name" I pointed out.
"Here's a word of advice; never say that in front of Frank or Francesca" Magenta warned.
There was fast tapping sound coming up ahead, and then a humming. Magenta groaned a little. We turned a corner. A young woman with bright red hair was dancing towards us. Her face was just as plastered in make up as Frank's. She was wearing so many sequins that I couldn't actually work out what her garments were.
"Hello Columbia" Magenta said, probably for my benefit.
"Mags! Have you seen my socks?" Columbia asked breathlessly.
"Socks?" Magenta repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes. My yellow ones, with the white bows" Columbia added.
"Why would I have your socks?" Magenta said, "Come on, Evie" Magenta gripped my arm and pulled me away.
Columbia gave us a little wave, and cantered off in the opposite direction.