Disclaimer: I don't own The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Some bastard (who's not Richard O'Brien) at 20th Century Fox does, which is why they're making that bloody awful remake.
A/N: I'm really sorry that I didn't finish this earlier. And I haven't even got an excuse...
In the movie, I can't help but notice Magenta's accent vary by scene. Sometimes it's a bad attempt at a 'vampire accent', sometimes it's something sort of British, and other times it's vaguely American... I think. The out-of-universe explanation is probably that Patricia Quinn was too spaced out on drugs/alcohol/whatever to notice or care (this was the 1970s, after all). I want to invent some kind of in-universe reason for the varying accent.
At this point in the story, Magenta's bizarre accent isn't supposed to be specific to any real area of the real world.
By the way, things in not in italics are what they're saying in English. Hopefully that isn't too confusing.
Soon, they had enough data to start attempting to learn the native language.
The main problem was the grammar. Every language differs in grammar. So, they tried copying full sentences. Mostly just greetings and ways of introducing themselves to the Terrans.
Magenta had the most trouble.
All her life she'd been unable to learn a language different from the one she'd been raised speaking. Well, save for that half-forgotten nameless dialect spoken by specific ethnic group of which her family belonged to. When people immigrated from the main planet to a colony, they often brought little traditions like that. But she'd grown up hearing that.
Her father wrote a greeting out phonetically and was trying to help her sound things out.
"See, sound it out… Hello."
"Heello," the girl repeated.
Her father sighed. "Good enough. Now, say: 'hello, my name is Magenta'."
"Heello, my nam i' Magainta."
"No, that's not quite right. 'Hello, my name is' - a nice 'sss' sound there- Magenta."
"Heello, my nam easesss Magainta."
"Maybe we shouldn't translate your name just yet," he said after a moment.
"Maybe," she agreed, blushing slightly.
A few hours later, after lunch, they tried again.
"So, when you first meet someone, you greet them. Then you ask how they are," Hal explained to his daughter.
"I know that!" Magenta replied, rolling her eyes.
Her father chuckled. "Of course you do. Now, you've got to learn it in Terran. Say: How are you?"
"How arrrre yew?"
"Ah, well. That's good enough. The words 'good' or 'well' that means they are having a good day. That's what you should say if they ask you," Hal explained.
"Fine," Magenta replied simply, not wanting to try to speak that odd language again.
Suddenly, Wesley entered the room. He sneered at Magenta and Hal Morbius… even though the latter was better educated and older than him. Even the former was more 'important' than Wesley, since none of them had any money now, because she was cleverer in a number of ways.
"What do you want?" Magenta asked, glaring at the older boy.
"Nothing, really," he drawled.
He smiled a smile that would've charmed anyone over a certain age. Luckily, Magenta still saw boys as 'icky'.
Wesley's only virtue was his looks. Not that such a thing is actually a virtue (according to a number of people). If I may, dear reader, I'd like to describe his physical appearance.
If only there were any young ladies nearby, his dark brown eyes would've enchanted the poor dears to death. His dark hair fell nearly to his shoulders (partially thanks to months without a haircut). Though his face was somewhat tan, he still had a rather gothic look to him. Perhaps it was because of the air of mystery about him? His face also had a distinct look to it, a look that gave him an omnipresent air of haughtiness... something seen upon the faces of the snobbiest aristocrats of any planet.
"Why are you in my study?" Hal asked, glaring at the young man.
"Well, I heard you were trying to learn the language that these primitive beings speak. If you don't mind I'll join in on your little, ah, lesson. I would also like to learn to speak to them," Wesley explained sweetly.
"Why? What are you up to?" Magenta asked, glaring childishly at him.
"Nothing, of course. I just wish to be able to properly speak to our pathetic neighbors. It'll be useful for us all to know the local language, since we'll clearly be stranded on this Gods-forsaken planet forever!"
Though he seemed quite annoyed, Hal began to play back various sound clips and show Wesley phonetic spellings.
The young man's pronunciation was perfect on the first try. He soon learned quite a few useful phrases. This made Magenta very angry.
"How do you get it right? Are you cheating?" she shouted.
"I've always been good with languages," Wesley said simply, giving Magenta a look of contempt.
Sometimes, when Frank was busy doing... whatever he does most of the time, I'd spend the evening relaxing in my room. Usually, that involved painting my nails or talking to my roommate. The second time one of those evenings happened, I began asking Magenta about her home planet.
"Hey, Magenta?" I said, just as I was putting away the bright pink nail polish.
"Hmm?" she replied, not even bothering to look up from what she was reading.
"What's your real name? I mean, the name the called you on your home planet."
She gave me a Look. "What do you mean by that? Why don't you think my name actually is Magenta?"
"Well… isn't it a nickname? Anyway, I didn't think they spoke English on your home planet."
"We translated it," Magenta explained simply.
"Really? Your parents actually named you that?"
At this, she rolled her eyes. "Aren't there people in your world named after words? People called 'hope' or 'faith'?"
"Yeah… but I don't think there are people named after colors," I replied.
"Aren't there people called 'scarlet'?"
"Yeah…"
"And you're parents named you after a movie company, so-"
"No, they didn't."
"I thought you said-"
"They didn't name me that," I snapped.
That's where our conversation ended. I wish I hadn't been so rude to her. It's not like any of it's her fault.
I like Magenta. She's a nice person, if you ignore the strangeness. Ha! It's like that show I watched as a kid, The Addams Family. They were so unconventional that they seemed almost villainous… but soon enough you realize they care more than 'normal' people.
Wait… when I say 'they' do I mean the Addams Family or the aliens I live with? Now that I think about it, I'm not sure.
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