A/N: I'm currently working on a bunch of Rocky Horror songfics. The first one is written to Drunken Angel by Lucinda Williams. Song lyrics written in italics. Riff/Magenta, ROTOQ spoilers at the end.
Magenta used to peer out the circular window that let the Earth sun into the room she shared with her brother.
Sun came up, it was another day
She would find him where she had left him at two in the morning, when she finally went to sleep, seated in a large worn out armchair at the end of the bed, strumming the old guitar he found in an alley. He would play for up to five hours. The guitar was one of the two things he had to live for, the other being his beautiful sister.
That was a long time ago, before Frank became abusive, before Riff started to loose his grip on sanity.
And the sun went down, you were blown away.
The guitar now sat in a corner, collecting dust. He hardly ever picked it up anymore.
Why'd you let go of your guitar, why'd you ever let it go that far?
When he did pick it up, he was heavily intoxicated. He would pick it up and make a few attempts at the chords he used to be able to make ring out clearly. That's when she found him the most attractive; when he was sitting in the worn our armchair with his greasy thinning hair hanging in front of his sweaty, pale, perfect face.
Drunken angel
He could have been great. Even as a child on Transsexual he could pick up a trade without much work at all, while she had to slave away at a skill for months before she could even begin to compare herself with her brother.
Could've held onto that long smooth neck, let your hands remember every fret, fingers touching each shining string, but you let go of everything, drunken angel.
She was losing him.
Drunken angel, you're on the other side.
She didn't know what to.
Drunken angel, you're on the other side.
On Transsexual he had been renowned for his musical talents. The majority paid him no attention, as they do with most artists who are truly talented. He had a very faithful following though.
Followers would cling to you, hang around just to meet you. Some threw roses at your feet, watch you pass out on the street, drunken angel.
He wasn't the most responsible person. He was often deeply in debt, but she could take care of that. He protected her, and she protected him.
Feed you and pay off all your debt.
He could have had any one of the attractive girls in his following, but he didn't want them. He wanted her.
Kiss your brow, taste your sweat.
Magenta was the lyrical genius behind the majority of his songs. He could sing and play, she could write. She was his muse, and he was hers.
Write about your soul, your guts.
She was always eager to point out his faults. She did it mostly to make herself feel better. She couldn't match up to his positive qualities, but she could be better than his negative qualities.
Criticize you and wish you luck, drunken angel.
Even then she was losing him.
Drunken angel, you're on the other side.
To the same unseeable evil.
Drunken angel, you're on the other side.
His following had been almost cult-like. They had been most disappointed when he was sentenced to life on Earth with Dr. Frank N Furter after organizing a riot outside the palace at the Old Queen's crowning.
Some kind of savior singing the blues
She would watch him preform their songs with the screaming fans around him. He would
stare straight at her, as if there was no one else in the room. She loved every inch of him. His eccentric clothing, the manner in which he conducted himself. She loved it all.
A derelict in your duct tape shoes, orphan clothes, and your long dark hair. Looking like you didn't care, drunken angel.
The music he wrote came from a deep place inside him. A place only his sister saw directly expressed. She supposed that was the first of his self-inflicted pain, the blood that he spilled for his music.
Blood spilled out from the hole in your heart over the strings of your guitar.
He shared things with her that he didn't share with anyone else. They were closer than normal siblings. They had their moments and places to be lovers, and their moments and places to be friends, and their moments and places to be siblings.
The worn out places in the woods, the ones that made you feel so good. Drunken angel.
She thought she had lost him long before.
Drunken angel, you're on the other side.
She thought she had lost him while they were still on Earth.
Drunken angel, you're on the other side
The last time she saw the sun was in the Earth month of November at 7:00 in the morning,
when Frank woke her for breakfast.
Sun came up it was another day.
By the time night fell she was sure that she had lost him forever.
And the sun went down, you were blown away.
She thought that everything that used to mean something to him meant nothing.
Why'd you let go of your guitar? Why'd you ever let it go that far, drunken angel?
She watched her brother from the receiving end of the anti-matter laser. She knew she had lost him.
Drunken angel...
A/N: So...What did you think? Please be mindful that this is my first attempt at a serious Rocky Horror fic. Help me improve, but don't do so in such a manner that my self-esteem lowers even more.
