Arafel

in the bottle: Smells like me leaning over a person who is sitting on the other end of the couch snarfing down chocolate covered cherries. Heavy on the cocoa powdering on the outside of them. wet: warm sultry cocoa sprinkled on heated skin. My pulse livening and warming the scent, bringing out the cherries. dry down: laying in the last few rays of sun as the sun goes down on a bed with rumpled sheets. Wrapped around my thigh, my foot, a fraction of my torso. We gorged ourselves on chocolate and lay panting as the scent of kisses mingled with cocoa and cherries and a hint of orange escape our mouths. That warm milky breath carrying all of that into the air, dancing in the motes of dust in the fading sunlight. Warm and deep and soft and sexy. I likes

Not so much for pregnancy sake, but my mom chided me yesterday for wearing Aeval because of the sage in it, as i'm still nursing my almost 20 month old daughter. Sage dries up your milk. I'd be worried, but for the fact wee bit is a boob leech and I haven't had any problems yet, but www.mothering.com lets you know what EOs are safe and I'd think if you had any fears you could email Beth and ask her personally

TEMPEST Bottle: The ozone is very much there. Reminds me of spring rains cresting over the mountains while the sky is heavy and roiling waiting to let loose a torrent. There's a note of citrus, almost like the rains are causing every lemon and navel orange in an orange to sweat their oils through their skins and that mixes with the ozone. Wet: Breezes rattling the lemon trees, tossing fruit to the ground, releasing their oils. The lemon leaves as well, it has a note of green to it, like the tree is being thrashed by violent winds in a rush to hurry the storm nearer. The ozone crackles with lightning in the distance. 15 minutes later: The ozone tang has died back a bit and the smell is just of clean rain that has swept through an orchard.

Merry Ostara!!! Tonight I'll be making some traditional style hot cross buns whilst wearing Alice

Wolf Moon This is the dead of winter, the year’s dark hibernation, the crystalline silence of the depths of the world’s darkness. It bears echoes of the time before time, of primordial gloom. This Moon harbors memories of man’s life before fire. In the bottle ~ Close your eyes, imagine yourself deep inside a cavernouse cave right before spring. You hear the water of the snow melt rushing all around you in hidden and unseen veins through the rock. The sharp tang of that virgin water on its way to the great rivers mixed with the darkest mosses and the sighing of ancient rock. That's what I smell. Wet ~ Others have mentioned this as cold, but for me it's warm and comforting, like being sheltered in the womb of the great Mother herself, very primordial. It's quiet, silence, before that big first breath and yell announcing yourself to the new world. Dry down an hour or so later ~ So refreshing and comforting still. I can smell a bit of pine, but it's distant and the scent is still warm on me. I can understand the chill of it, but it's not cold in the sense of the word, so much as it is the sense of darkness and yet-to-be. There's slight woodsy-ness, but...I'm serious, it's like being down in the silence of the Earth as she's about to spring forth. It's kind of like Skadi, but not as chilly and piney. More like Dublin, but...it's not. It's really hard to describe, it's such a perfect 'Spring is on her way' scent Though it's easiest to say I'm in love big time!

One of my imp gifties in my order from the lab was 'Follow Me Boy' A houdoun recipe dating back almost 150 years. This blend is favored by prostitutes, exotic dancers and others in the sex industry for its power to attract, seduce, and enthrall. Ensures financial gain and increased profits. In the bottle ~ Lots of flowers and sex. Not the milky/honey kind of sex, but that oozing with sex that seeps from your pores during the monsoons in the midst of tropical blooms. The kind where you have that fantasy of screwing Tarzan's brains out after ripping off that little loin cloth with your teeth. Wet ~ Very interesting. The blossoms are heady and heavy, filled with rain and sopping wet. The rains have passed and the sun is beating down. Mixed with my body chemistry it's become musky and soft, not powdery, but quiet. A batting of eyelashes and that quirk of a smile, swirled with just a little bit of a beckoning finger that promises a very fulfilling three or more hours of your time. Dry down more than an hour later ~ Still there, but not as pronounced. It's faded quite a bit on me, but is still this warm blanket of once-was-flower-sex smell. It'll waft up every now and then, but otherwise I don't know it's there. I don't know if this is so much my scent as it's -reallllllly- floral, but it is pretty, and on the right person could do amazing things. Though, maybe if I mix it with a vanilla or honey scent like Alice it would be incredible! Must try that

White Rabbit in the bottle ~ smells like Alice with a spicy peppery swirl. The milkiness is there with the vanilla and honey, all swirling on the surface of a big cup of earl grey tea. The ginger is a biting note, but in the background. wet ~ mmm, I smell the linen; pristine and freshly washed and pressed. Well, almost pristine, someone spilled a drop or two of the tea on it, so it's not as clean as it would be. The ginger! It's in the biscuits! It's honeyed and crisp, sweetened by sugar crystals dusting the tops. A few crumbs stuck to the whiskers of Mr. White Rabbit as he's in such a hurry he's eating too fast. The air is sweetened with his creamed and vanilla early grey. dry down 15 minutes later ~ The ginger biscuits are more apparent, almost creating a very gentle citrus scent in the background. He better hurry and finish, or he'll be late! The tea has cooled and is not as prominent, but there's still that white pepper and ginger...mixed with a little of the honey, creating a warm and snuggly scent that's heady and rich. The linen is still mostly clean, but scattered with spicy crumbs and random little dottings of tea. Overall, this matured beyond Alice. It's really complex, without meaning to be. Warming and sweet, but with a little bite, I should have ordered a big bottle! Dammit. Well, now I know what to get next time.

Oisin the story: Oisín was the son of the hero Fionn Mac Cumhaill and the fairy-woman Sabha who was abducted back to the Otherworld when Oisín was a young boy and he was then brought up by his father Fionn. He fought many brave battles with the Fianna when he came of age. He did not always agree with his father especially in the case of his father's enmity against Diarmuid O'Duibne when he eloped with Gráinne who had been promised to Fionn Mac Cumhail. Oisín met Niamh a beautiful woman of the Sidhe and went to Tír na nÓg with her to live it is said he lived there for three years and then he wanted to return to his homeland to see his family again, he was given a white horse and told not to step off it. He returned to his home but could find no trace of his old house or any of his family and the people seemed different, somehow smaller and weaker. He discovered some men at a place called Glen na Smól trying to lift a large rock. He found out that three hundred years had passed since the time of his father and the Fianna. He decided to help the men lift the rock but as he reached over he slipped from his horse and his foot touched the earth. He was instantly transformed into a withered old man and he died there, in front of the men but not before telling them who he was. in the bottle: Like perfumed flowers on the air, their scent just whisked to my nose. Heady florals, but fresh and summery. The herbs are gentle and clean, without being pungent as sometimes the summer sun can make them that way as they wilt from the heat. wet: the musk is blindingly white, crystalline, and seems to cut through the air in a chiming chord. It stands in front of the herbs and flowers on the hill, shining in the sunlight. The air is crisp, tossing the heads on the flowers gently to and fro, much to their delight. The summertime sun shines in a partly cloudy sky, reflecting in the eyes of Oisin himself. dry down 15 minutes later: The soft snuffling and snorting of his horse is heard, as the animal casually digs at the earth with it's front hoof, stirring up more of the herbal smell. The florals are carried lightly in the air still, swirling around in such a cloying way. It's sharp and heady at the same time, the musk having mellowed...warmed through the sun...becoming sexy and beckoning. Oisin, beneathe his clothing and torque, is muscular from his battles and scarred as well. His heart beats in tune with his horse, which is in tune with his land. The flowers and herbs and musk all have permeated his clothing, mixing with the soft scent of his horse, an unearthly animal from Tir na nOg, somehow changing and becoming more otherworldy. This is an incredibly sexy scent, I can see how this would be loved on a man, as I know mixing that male smell with this would be irresistable, but...it's so wonderful on me as a woman as well! I'll definitely buy it again

Snow White In the bottle: Potently almond, with a kiss of bee pollen. Her breaths come out, visible in the frozen winter air, her dewy breath that silky sweet smell of kisses yet had. It's chill, but the sun is out, the frost is frozen, but ready to blanket all once the sun goes to sleep. Wet: I feel she's sitting next to several rose bushes, those of the gentlest scents; white, pink, peach, yellow and cream colored. She's reading a book, scanning the pages, quirking her lips into a small smile every now and then as the chilled air catches her raven hair and dances in it's strands. The flowers...the remnants of those that bloom in the dark, not surrendering to that of the roses, but delicate...so delicate. So sweet and warm, her flesh, in the midst of winter. Still strong in scent, but calming... Dry down 15 minutes later: The flowers mingle with the almondy bee pollen scent of her skin, warming from the heat of her body that pulses outward from her overcoat. The wind is still, but sways around her coyly, playing with the ends of her hair, whispering in her ear. Such a crystalline scent that is reminscent of a woman's kiss in winter, chill with a warmth of inner glow. Such a harmonious oil, very quiet, thinking, but beautiful in thought. The night blooming flowers are gentle and soft, almost as if they've sunken into her almondy cream skin as she slept. very beautiful I love it I know there aren't any almonds in it, nor bee pollen, but I smell it, it's there whispering at me

Skadi in the bottle - a heady pine, no doubt of that, but gentle in a way. A feminine way, that's bright and fresh. New. Dewy. The smell of the snow mid-day in the silence of the forest, sparkling and shining. wet - the berries are so ripe, it's as if I'm standing in a patch of thick Norwegian forest, rays of sunlight making their way through here and there through the thick growth of pine, the trees heavily laden with snow. Every now and then a crash breaks the silence as a sheet of snow breaks from the bough of a tree, echoing in the silence. dry down 15 minutes later - the berries are so warm and sun kissed, but newly warm as the frost is slowly dripping off them. I picture the snow shoes of Skadi as she trudges through the thick snow, the crunching and squeaking. Though frosty and warmed by the sun, there's a feminine muskiness to this. As if the energy and warmth of Skadi's skin is radiating from her and making the frosty motes in the air dance. The pine is still present, but gently so, as the trees have stopped leaning over to watch, knowing their trespasser is one with them, a Goddess, who knows their language, and they need not worry. It's a breathy sigh of relief from them, their boughs still heavy with sparkling snow that's now crusty and icy. I-am-in-love. Utterly. I will use this sparingly I love it so. She's strong and silent, though if she opens her mouth can conjure an avalanche. There's a dance to the berries and snow, the pine singing a gentle song. I am damned glad I bought this!!

Kabuki In the bottle: Over-whelmingly cherry. I jerked back a little and realized why Jazzie thought this smells like cough syrup but swirling behind that smell was a beckoning finger of star anise and a whiff of red musk, so I journeyed on... Wet: Such strong cherry, swirling in my mind's eye I see Okuni, kneeling in audience to the men who will become those to carry on her tradition of the dance. The cherry and anise drift from her kimono and obi. The musk is still in the background as the show is about to begin... Dry down: The cherry has calmed with Okuni's demure smile, into that of the sakura blossoms during their prime season. Savored through sight and scent during both silent admiration and the joyous whisperings of awe. The red musk is cloyingly there, just barely, but enough to let it be known in the fashion of the word Kabuki, that which is a song and a dance, but done masterfully with art that will still one's heart with it's beauty. All of the actors are moving in and out of their parts; the cherry, star anise, and red musk. Okuni would be proud *soft smile* Very pleasant, it's calming and beautiful, sweet in the gentlest of ways. The musk keeps the cherry and star anise in check, without letting it steal the show Thank you Jazzie *bows* for the opportunity to try this **Okuni ~ Kabuki was founded early in the 17th century by Okuni, a shrine maiden who brought her unique and lively dance style to the dry river beds of the ancient capital of Kyoto.

in the bottle: I smell bees! First impression was just that. The honey and rose stands out, though a delicate lightly golden honey, the kind where you can still smell the pollen of the flowers which it was made from. I see 3 plump honey bees sitting on a checked red and white blanket having a picnic amidst roses under the early afternoon sun. Pink roses and some of the lighter red ones, as the rose smell isn't deep and dusky as normal dark roses. wet: The milk is slowly wafting out. It's as if Alice is sitting amongst the bees, her napkin spread on her lap. The smell of her hair and skin catch the breeze and mingle with the roses. The smell is so golden and straw colored, I can see her shiny hair hanging down her back. The under current of carnation comes just under the surface in a delicate way, as if it's the remnants of the pollen left on the bellys of the bees ((of course, along with some crumbs from cookies)) dry down: so light and pleasant without being overpowering, the bergamot flows in and out, as if being carried on the wind through the rose bushes. The milk and honey still heady and softly warm and glowing. I love Alice, the scent so definitely warm and happy you can almost feel the playful conversation and giggling. When I can I may purchase a 5 ml of this the oil itself is clear, no real coloring to it.

Mabon: First whiff from the bottle: apple blossom. Right in my face, competing with the blackberry wine. smells very familiar wet: reminds me of when I was a little girl at my very first circle. it was a Mabon circle in the middle of Himmel park. Sitting on the grass at the first onset of the darkening of afternoon, the wind carrying the smell of the last fragrant flowers of the summer, still heady and thriving. Cool and warm at the same time. dry down: soo nice. it really brings my first Mabon clearly into my memory. There was indeed wine and cider there that the adults were drinking, and the smell is so similar. the dry down of this is definitely mellow and pleasant. It conjurs for me the sunset, curled in my mother's lap and the smell of her hair co-mingled with all of the flowers and the trees around us as we sat on the cool grass. The wind still warm ((the myrrh, hazel and sage??)), but with an edge of crispness with the season in promise to come. Hopefully this LE will come around again next year, I'd definitely buy a 5 ml of it and i can now officially say I -am- proudly a BPAL addict thanks to Ultra Violet

But how do you pronounce Chthulhu? LOL I had to ask!!! --Mystina <{POST_SNAPBACK}> The most popular pronunciation is "kuh-THOO-loo", but it is said that it can be pronounced "kuh-TOO-loo", as shown in the spelling "Ktulu" in the song "The Call of Ktulu". There are basically three different pronunciations that I have heard, other pronunciations being slight modifications on these. The most commonly heard pronunciation is that suggested by Chaosium, makers of the "Call of Cthulhu" roleplaying game. On the back of many of their gaming products is printed the phrase, "Can you say kuh-THOOL-hoo?". (I pronounce it kuh-THOO-lhoo.) Another pronunciation is that used by several Lovecraftian scholars. This form is based on Lovecraft's revision tales where Cthulhu is often referred to as "Clooloo" or "Clulu". Unfortunately, this form does not have a sound representing the "th" combination. Lastly there is a compromise between these two. The "h" sounds are aspirated, thus the "th" is not as in "them" or "thin", but two separate sounds. The first four letters of the word are run together in something like a sneezing sound, "K't'hoo-lhoo".

Gaueko In Basque folklore, a nocturnal spirit or demon which prohibits certain activities during the hours of darkness on pain of punishment. The name means simply `[creature] of the night' (gau `night' plus the relational suffix -ko).