zankoku_zen

The fat young man at the other end of the stretch limo took a can of diet Coke from the cocktail bar and popped it open. He wore a long black coat, made of some silky material, and he appeared barely out of his teens: a spattering of acne glistened on one cheek. He smiled when he saw that Shadow was awake. Hello, Shadow, he said. Dont fuck with me. Its all about the dominant fucking paradigm, Shadow. Nothing else is important: vape smoke and burning electrical parts. This one smells like angry grey smoke, electricity, and something that smells like corrupt champagne. There's a fizzy almost champagne edge to the fog (perhaps the vape smoke). On wet, this smelt like burning latex and smoke and I almost washed it off. It dries down to a gentler, less angry, and I think I'm smelling some tuberose. Technical Boy was described as the male version of the Girl. There is something haunting about this, but its also a much angrier persona. Aggressive and in your face. But also, oddly insubstantial.

Shuddering, sweat-warmed skin gleaming with sheer musk, honeyed olive blossoms, vanilla cedar, white sandalwood, and orris butter.

Amber and orris butter with violet leaf, carnation, red currant, wisteria, and lavender bud.

No further description.

No further description.

Musky-sweet and glowing with autumn’s first sunsets.

This little fella is a whole mood. Cacao, cacao wood, tobacco absolute, and bourbon cream.

A cascade of fading leaves against a backdrop of grey ambergris, grassy vetiver, carrot seed, fossilized amber, green cardamom, cinnamon husk, saffron, tobacco flower, and bay laurel.

Perfumed black silk encasing a mangled, blood-spattered talon of white sandalwood, ivory accord, and inky fur.

Sweet apricot, sugared amber, frankincense, golden cardamom, rice milk, and golden peach.

Red musk, cherry wood, apricot, and fig.

Red currant and rosewater gooseberry cake with a sugar-dusted gingerbread crumble topping.

Blackberry thorn tea.

The sorcerous equivalent of the comforting, soothing endorphin rush that comes from eating a stress pizza in your favorite robe while watching old movies.

No further scent description.

A crinkly, crunchy, cartoony jack-o-lantern scent, stuffed full of leaves and eager to please: orange blossom, blood orange, and orange hard candy with pumpkin pulp and smushed leaves

Vanilla mint, spun sugar, and pistachio.

Cotton candy, cardamom, and confetti cake.

Crunchy leaves, well-worn black leather, cardamom pod, moonlit yellow bergamot, woodmoss, molasses, and buttermilk.

Thick furs, strips of leather, and a blood-stained axe with crushed poplar bud and juniper.

“Cigarette, sir?” “No, thank you.” “You don’t mind if I do?” “Go right ahead.” The driver used a Bic disposable lighter, and it was in the yellow light of the flame that Shadow saw the man’s face, actually saw it for the first time, and recognized him, and began to understand. Shadow knew that thin face. He knew that there would be close-cropped orange hair beneath the black driver’s cap, cut close to the scalp. He knew that when the man’s lips smiled they would crease into a network of rough scars. “You’re looking good, big guy,” said the driver. “Low Key?” Shadow stared at his old cellmate warily. Prison friendships are good things: they get you through bad places and through dark times. But a prison friendship ends at the prison gates, and a prison friend who reappears in your life is at best a mixed blessing. “Jesus. Low Key Lyesmith,” said Shadow, and then he heard what he was saying and he understood. “Loki,” he said. “Loki Lie-Smith.” “You’re slow,” said Loki, “but you get there in the end.” And his lips twisted into a scarred smile and embers danced in the shadows of his eyes. Black clove and cassia flung onto glowing cinders and mingled with slow-dripping poisons. Clove and cassia lovers, take note. This one is mainly a heavy clove, with a touch of cassia. On wet, I got a curl of smoke, but it has dried to a slightly masculine clove/cassia blend and a fair dab of an herbal poison in the background. In some ways, the heavy clove reminds me Goth Queen and the Bay Rum SN that the Lab had as a lunacy event exclusive. Except this one is a little trickier, a little shadowier, and a little more deadly? It's clove, but there's something else lurking underneath. You know what, a girl needs a little danger in her life. A girl needs a bottle. A girl needs.

Black narcissus, orange blossoms, vanilla bourbon, red leather, and red musk.

No additional scent description available.