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Riffington Alexander Wheretheflyincraphaveyoubeen von Ulm

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Riffington Alexander Wheretheflyincraphaveyoubeen von Ulm

Post  Mr. Awesome on Tue Aug 24, 2010 4:02 pm

"Faster. Must go FASTER!"

Riff wheezed and panted his way up the hillside muttering the very phrase that had become his mantra for the last week. Almost very litterally he had been at (depending on the time of day, terrain, and manner of pursuit) a constant run, trot, or brisk walk for most of the last 20 odd hours. The Karanok family had turned loose the Piper Twins on Riff, and he knew that those two were every bit as lethal as standing in the jungles of Chult with half a pig carcass tied around your neck and then making alot of noise. Sure it would take a bit of time, but the end result would be massively painful and quite deadly in the end.

A livid green grease paint still clung stubbornly to his face, and that damnably ridiculous giant polo mint still hung over his left eye even after he'd managed to escape. Riff knew he'd attached it with far too much spirit gum but he didn't care much at the time. His only goal at that time was to escape from those psychotically deranged nobles from the thrice damned (oh why not, lets just make it quadruple damned) Karanok family, may the abyss eat up every single one of them.

All Riff had wanted to do when he last saw his friends was maybe feed the animals, go do some light shopping for a new even flashier outfit, and then go do some entertaining. What he had not anticipated was running straight into Durick Karanok. Formerly one of his most...uniquely humored benefactors.

To say that the Karanok family had a dark sense of humor was more to saying that the Sea of Stars was vaguely damp in nature. Were they great fans of the theater? Yes. Did they appreciate the arts? Again, yes. But that was about the only point where Riff and the Karanok's sensibilities on artistic license met. It was in his former service with the Karanok's that Riff had all but been forced to create his most horrible and hated comedic character ever. One of whom he was being groomed to mostly turn into completely by the family if they had a say in it, but that had been years ago. As of the last few months though, it had seemed that Riff's premature abandonment as the family's source of dark comedic glee had been missed in a very dire way. So dire had been the nature of this missing, that it was communicated quite directly at swordpoint.

For months Riff had been plunged back into the mad world of the Karanoks, their grim worship in the cult of entropy, lust for power and battle, and of course, their love for Riff's dark creation The Hitcher.

Riff was well on his way into becoming less himself and more his creation, when he discovered that not only had the Karanok family decided to expand their range of lands, but also that they still employed the shaman Naboo.

"Thank the gods you're still here!" the words fell out of Riffs own mouth in his own voice, used for the first time in weeks when he saw Naboo.

"Yeh...I'm doing all right." replied Naboo with a slight and non-committal shrug of his blue robes as he always tended to do.

Knowing that the Karanok family meant, once more, for Riff to become an instrument of murderous, homicidal comedy Naboo and Riff labored quietly in the dark of the night, and clear broad daylight of the afternoons (the Karanoks, while vicious, hateful monsters were also ravenous partiers and would occasionally spend a full day sleeping off a nights festivities) devising a potion that would allow Riff to, in essence become The Hitcher fully in body and mind, which, knowing how depraved and psychotically evil the character was, would allow for more than enough willpower and fighting ability for Riff to escape.

Before what was now his second last performace for the Karanoks, Riff thought long and hard about what he was about to do. He hated being The Hitcher. He hated the idea of The Hitcher. He hated every last moment he had to wear that green makeup, false nose, and that giant polo mint. The things that character demanded of Riff's mind, and the things it would make him say were horrifyingly unpalatable to him, and entirely contrary to his life's goal of truely entertaining the masses. But what other choice was there? It was either be him for a full day, or be forced to be him for the rest of his natural life. Unpalatable as it was to become a truely evil being, even temporarily, he had to do it.

He didn't remember a whole lot after drinking the vial. Just lots of swirling thoughts of a dangerous nature, a flashing carving knife, and then he woke up well outside of town in a drainage ditch of a farmers field, still in the funerary black of his costume for that character. He wasn't much for black, but the top hat was rather genius. Maybe he'd keep it after he found everyone else. He hoped they'd been looking for him, because he knew he was most certainly going to be looking for them.
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Mr. Awesome

Posts : 144
Join date : 2009-10-12
Age : 40
Location : Bay City

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