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Someone show me a way to get outta here, ‘cause I constantly pray I’ll get outta here ♫
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“I’m not a ch--!!” Seymour began, before he was interrupted by the dentist pinning him to the chair; and as a result knocking the wind from the poor florist. It was bad enough that he couldn’t see very well, but he could hear the creep’s hyena-like laughter ringing through his ears, accompanied by the high-pitch whirring of a drill. “What’re you doing to me?” He cried, but it came out garbled. There was something in his mouth. He could only assume it was the drill, but knowing Orin, it had to be much worse than a simple dentist’s drill. He could taste metal, and the botanist paled at least five shades. This was not going to end well for him. He was nothing more than another one of Orin Scrivello, D.D.S.’s victims.
"Gee, you're really something else, Scrivello..." -- krxlborn
Orin glared at the kid as he walked into the shop, shoving his bike keys back into his pocket. “Ya know, I didn’t come here for ya kid! Where the hell is Audrey?” He barked as he took a look around the shop, the most lively thing in it was Seymour. “Damn, what a shit hole” he muttered running a hand over a shelf of dead flowers picking up dust.
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UPDATE:
Hi! You’re probably wondering: where did Seymour go for almost a whole year? Well, my computer kind of went down the shithole and I could hardly use it, leaving me locked to my cell phone and away from this account.
However; by some miracle – if one can call it that, my computer is working again, and I am back! My activity will still be sporadic, but that is simply a given; considering I just finished high school and am now stuck in an endless loop of social events that I have never been invited to before.
So for the meantime, I will be on and off periodically throughout the summer. I will make sure that I don’t abandon this account; however! I care about you guys too much to leave this account :)
Anyways; I’ll try to be more active, and I hope to roleplay with all of you again!
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Seymour had arrived at the office around 3:45, hoping that Orin had forgotten about their little ‘appointment’. The florist had chosen to sit in a far corner of the waiting room, obscuring his face with the latest issue of the Better Homes and Gardens magazine. With every passing minute, he grew more worried as the tortured screams of Orin’s patients echoed throughout the halls, the soft piano music in the waiting room acting as an instrumental to the chorus of pained cries. Every so often, Seymour would look up from the magazine to watch as a sobbing child and thier mother walk out of an office; the child appearing as though their face had merged with a bear trap. With a quick glance at the clock, the botanist grimaced. It was 3:55. Five more minutes until the appointment. Five more minutes until he had to come face to face with Orin Scrivello, D.D.S. With every tick of the clock, the more worried Seymour got. When the clock turned to 3:58, one of the office doors opened; and Ronette was dragged out by none other than the dentist himself. Seymour could only watch as he shoved her out the door, the florist quickly obscuring his face with the magazine, and silently hoping that Orin didn’t notice that he was there. “Right on time…” Orin had chuckled, Seymour paling as the sadist plucked the magazine from his bandaged fingertips. “Next! You’re my four o’clock, kid!” And with that, Seymour was picked up by the collar of his jacket and dragged through the eerily white halls of the dental facility. Orin had made sure to give the florist the ‘grand tour’, forcing him to look at every single exam room, each room getting in worse condition. (There was blood and broken equipment everywhere, it looked like something out of a nightmare!) Eventually, Seymour was slammed into a dental chair, fearful for what would become of him after the appointment. Orin turned back around, a sharp-looking tool in his gloved hand. Seymour couldn’t help but wince, knowing that that was probably what Orin was planning on using for the ‘appointment.’ “I-is that gonna hurt?” Seymour stuttered nervously, readjusting his glasses.
"Gee, you're really something else, Scrivello..." -- krxlborn
Orin glared at the kid as he walked into the shop, shoving his bike keys back into his pocket. “Ya know, I didn’t come here for ya kid! Where the hell is Audrey?” He barked as he took a look around the shop, the most lively thing in it was Seymour. “Damn, what a shit hole” he muttered running a hand over a shelf of dead flowers picking up dust.
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Seymour grinned when Audrey finally showed up; and sighed in relief when the dentist let go of the boy’s collar. It may have only been five minutes since Orin had showed up, but those five minutes felt like years due to the extreme tension between the two of them. Audrey, as ditzy as she was, was like a beacon of hope whenever she entered the room; no matter what the situation was. In this case, it was getting Seymour away from the nut-job dentist. He frowned when she introduced him to Orin, the florist giving the dentist a glare. Not only did he generally dislike the man, but when he called Audrey a tramp, it only made Seymour loathe him more. “I met the guy just now; he seems pretty, um, nice?” Seymour said, you know, like a liar. Nice was definitely one way to put it. If Orin Scrivello; D.D.S was considered nice, then Mushnik, or even a serial killer would be considered an angel. Not that Seymour really knew what a serial killer was like, since they all stayed in upstate New York or in the South; and never in a place like urban Skid Row. He quickly nodded when Orin threatened him, desperate for them to leave so he could forget about the whole ordeal and work on that new plant he had found.
"Gee, you're really something else, Scrivello..." -- krxlborn
Orin glared at the kid as he walked into the shop, shoving his bike keys back into his pocket. “Ya know, I didn’t come here for ya kid! Where the hell is Audrey?” He barked as he took a look around the shop, the most lively thing in it was Seymour. “Damn, what a shit hole” he muttered running a hand over a shelf of dead flowers picking up dust.
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* hurt prompts
‘ are you bleeding? ’
‘ take it easy. you hit your head. ’
‘ where does it hurt? ’
‘ sit still and let me take a look! ’
‘ how did you get that black eye? ’
‘ you should see the other guy. ’
‘ did i say you could get out of bed? ’
‘ that’s going to leave a bruise. ’
‘ i’ll get some ice. ’
‘ that’s what you get for picking fights. ’
‘ are you trying to give me a heart attack? ’
‘ what’s wrong with you? ’
‘ you can barely stand. ’
‘ did you throw the first punch? ’
‘ that’s a nasty bump. ’
‘ get in the car. you’re going to the hospital. ’
‘ at least bandage it. ’
‘ no, you’ll get an infection. ’
‘ wet floor signs are there for a reason, you know. ’
‘ you’re lucky. that icicle could’ve killed you. ’
‘ where’s your gratitude? i rescued you! ’
‘ i’m calling the nurse. ’
‘ was that stupid dare worth it? ’
‘ what happened to you? ’
‘ sit down. i’ll make some hot chocolate and fix you right up. ’
‘ are those bandages? ’
‘ you need stitches. ’
‘ look out for that tree branch. ’
‘ i’ve got you. just stay awake. can you do that for me? ’
‘ lean on me. ’
‘ you got two choices: let me carry you, or die out here. take your pick. ’
‘ shit, you’re burning up. ’
‘ you’re not dying. it’s only a sprained ankle. ’
‘ lie down. ’
‘ i’m sorry. i know it hurts. here, hold my hand. ’
‘ you’re in no condition to be walking around. ’
‘ wake up! wake up! ’
‘ i don’t feel sorry for you. ’
‘ look at your face! ’
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“I thought you only have t-to go to med school for four years, Orin.” Seymour corrected, before shutting up when the dentist glared at him. He glimpsed at the door that Audrey should be coming out of at any minute, silently hoping she wasn’t putting off her “date” for something trivial, such as makeup. (Not that she needed it, Audrey was simply gorgeous in Seymour’s eyes.) “W-Why d’ya call her that, Orin? S-she’s a nice girl a-and -- Never mind.” He went quiet again, silently agreeing with the dentist’s statement of ‘everyone is slightly scared of the dentist’. It was true, and was probably even more so when the dentist in question was none other than Orin Scrivello, D.D.S. Rumors had it that an appointment with Scrivello was like a nightmare. A nightmare involving dentists and drills, that is. Everyone in Skid Row was afraid of the guy, and half of them couldn’t even afford to step into his office; much less have an appointment! Seymour knew he was screwed the second he agreed to the free check-up, and internally prayed that Audrey would show up soon so he could leave.
"Gee, you're really something else, Scrivello..." -- krxlborn
Orin glared at the kid as he walked into the shop, shoving his bike keys back into his pocket. “Ya know, I didn’t come here for ya kid! Where the hell is Audrey?” He barked as he took a look around the shop, the most lively thing in it was Seymour. “Damn, what a shit hole” he muttered running a hand over a shelf of dead flowers picking up dust.
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||Happy Easter//April Fools, everyone!||
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little shop aesthetic board seymour krelborn x audrey fulquard for anon
🌹send me moodboard requests!🌹
#ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴠᴇʟʏ ʀᴀᴅɪᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ -- audrey#ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴋ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɢᴜʏ -- self#ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴғʟɪᴄᴛ -- musings
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“F-four sounds nice,” Seymour stuttered, “B-but are you sure that you’re not lying? I-I dunno if I can trust you.” He was still wary – and now, frightened – of Audrey’s boyfriend, the florist taking another small step backwards. As for being scared of the dentist? Seymour couldn’t answer that question, considering if he had told the truth –which, like most people, would be “yes”) – he would have surely been tortured while at the appointment for Orin’s own amusement. “How would you react if I said no?” He asked, worried for the dentist’s answer.
"Gee, you're really something else, Scrivello..." -- krxlborn
Orin glared at the kid as he walked into the shop, shoving his bike keys back into his pocket. “Ya know, I didn’t come here for ya kid! Where the hell is Audrey?” He barked as he took a look around the shop, the most lively thing in it was Seymour. “Damn, what a shit hole” he muttered running a hand over a shelf of dead flowers picking up dust.
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op literally fed people to a hungry plant but go off i guess
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Questions for the Mun!
What made you decide to roleplay this muse?
Do you roleplay other muses?
Are there other characters you’re interested in rping or wish to?
What made you decide on your URL name?
What made you decide on your blog title?
Other characters/muns you’re interested in roleplaying with?
Do you overthink your tag descriptions or keep it simple?
Text format or nah? What’s your opinion on that?
Favorite three icons of your muse.
How do you feel about the interpretation of your character vs the fandom?
What’s a thread you’d like to do in the near future?
Do you have fun RPing?
Three of your favorite threads.
Would you get along with your muse?
What’s an M!A that would be fun to try out?
What’s the relationship status of your muse? Single? Taken?
Are you selective?
Your muse’s theme song.
What’s your opinion on blog themes? How do you feel about your own?
What’s something that would make you unfollow a mutual?
Three big no-nos to do or say to your muse. (their ‘berserk button’)
Three interesting little tidbits or facts of your muse.
Where are you typing right now and where do you usually type?
Send ✍ for the mun to take a crack at imitating your muse. Can be a small silly reply or a more in-depth take. ( Add + plus a scenario or who they’re talking to if you’d like to be more specific)
Send ☝ for the mun to give a word to your character on the muse’s behalf. Any advice? A secret the the muse is hiding? Do tell.
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“I understand, runnin’ a flower shop can take a lot outta ya... Runnin’ errands, checkin’ inventory, Mr. Mushnik’s wrath...” He shuddered when he mentioned their boss. “Stressful stuff. Sometimes you hardly get a moment to yourself.” Seymour grinned back at her, his smile masking concern for his friend’s state of being. Her black eye -- while covered by makeup, yet still slightly visible -- concerned him; it made him wonder just what went on with her and her “boyfriend”, and whether or not he should intervene. He sighed. (Why intervene in something you shouldn’t take part in, after all? What happens behind closed doors shouldn’t be his business, after all. It’d be rude to intrude.) “Ah, who am I kidding? I just wanted to check on you, that’s all.” Seymour said shyly, adjusting his ever crooked glasses. “You seemed lonesome, a-and I figured that you’d like some company...” Of course, it seemed awkward to come up from the basement -- living quarters -- and ask for a hug, but Seymour wasn’t very good with words in the first place. He’d figured that maybe, just maybe, a hug would work best.
“You look like you could use a hug.” (krelbxrn)
platonic/friendship starters ( @krelbxrn )
PANIC is the first reaction. She’d thought he’d been downstairs with the plants, and stupidly let herself what what she’d imagined was a private moment of exhaustion — of that Skid Row brand misery. When Seymour’s voice reaches her she’s leaning over the counter, elbows on its surface and head in her hands, but soon SPRINGS back up, turning in agitation to look at him reassuringly and to hide her face, back and forth, unsure which is the appropriate dismissal of this worry and this offer. (Because what’s that almost sickening flutter at the thought of Seymour’s arms around her? NOT GOOD, that’s what it is!)
She finally seems to decide that she’s going to try to meet Seymour’s eye, and conjures up a bright and slightly embarrassed smile. A black eye has healed sufficiently so as not to mar this expression too obscured, and it’s effect still manages to be sincerely charming. “Me? Oh, it isn’t— I’m just tired, ya know? Workin’ hard,” she says, gesturing to an empty sales room and all the work that is clearly not happening. “Takes it outta ya.”
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He gagged on the mirror shards, spitting them on the floor when the dentist finally let go of his face. Seymour could already taste blood from where they cut his throat, the metallic taste causing him to nearly vomit. “Y-You’re crazy! There has to be a c-catch somewhere, right? There’s... There’s no way you’d do it for free!” Seymour exclaimed, “I-I mean, unless you’re being honest?” Considering that Orin, while as much of a jerk as he was, was passionate about dentistry, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he was honest about the free appointment. But, Orin was also a sadist, and sadists typically had a catch for everything; whether it be torturing a patient, or forcing a person to do something they didn’t want to do in the first place out of pure malice. Seymour wasn’t sure if he could believe that Orin was being genuinely honest, or just using the “free appointment” to blackmail the florist into doing his bidding. “Well...”
"Gee, you're really something else, Scrivello..." -- krxlborn
Orin glared at the kid as he walked into the shop, shoving his bike keys back into his pocket. “Ya know, I didn’t come here for ya kid! Where the hell is Audrey?” He barked as he took a look around the shop, the most lively thing in it was Seymour. “Damn, what a shit hole” he muttered running a hand over a shelf of dead flowers picking up dust.
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||Does anyone need any icons for Seymour, Audrey, Orin, or the plant? I have a lot of screencaps and I’d love to make some for you guys!||
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