Naamah_Darling

The Dark Side of Fire: cinnamon, bitter almond, and neroli. Heavily spiced, torrid, and possibly conflagrant. A simple blend smelling strongly of almond and cinnamon. The neroli adds a light touch to this that is wonderful. Mostly it's just burning cinnamon and rich, creamy almonds like cherry cordial. Nice. It's rich, and so simple I'm finding it hard to come up with things to say about it besides "spicy." But I like it. It's in the same general category as Chimera, though not as nuanced or as deep. A stealthy singed note creeps in eventually; I think it's the cinnamon, which is so strong it smells like bark and not like the powdered stuff you put on apple pies. Very pretty.

I'm in an odd position when it comes to aquatics. They like me a lot, maybe a little too much, but I don’t much care for them. They aren't "me." That said, I enjoy trying them even if I don't wear ozone or aquatic scents daily. In the bottle: ozone and aquatic notes with a sharp green or citric tang. On, it smells like "spring fresh" flavored laundry detergent, or the way laundry smells when it's been dried outdoors. Hardly a terrible smell, but one that's clean as a knifeblade, and just as cutting. There's a tart salty note, the brine of the ocean I assume, which smells not unlike the usual "seaweed and dead bodies" flavor of "maritime" incense/hippie oil/foot scrub/what have you. This note becomes stronger the longer it wears, until it's dominant. This is a dramatic, powerful scent, but very clean, very pure. It's very interesting, and I recommend it to those who like aquatic scents, or for those looking to try a good aquatic scent.

Cool ozone notes like cucumber and tea mingle with an upbeat citrus twang in this pretty scent. It goes on cool and wet, a strongly aquatic aroma reminiscent of shower gel and ultra-clean soap. It's a bit lime-like, pleasantly unisex, but not sexual. A good smell, and a good choice for all-occasion wear.

This smells of tart pink berries. I can't say I care for that overmuch. It's very strong, and rather artificial, as most berry scents tend to smell artificial to me. It's also a little bubblegummy. On, it smells just the same, a tart, sweet berry scent that is bright, playful, and far stronger than you might think. Apply with caution! Beyond that there is little to say; it's just too sharp and fruity for me. Off to swaps!

A scent as sharp as glass shards, and as brittle as a broken heart. The formula came to me - quite literally - in a dream, and is named after, and created in memory of, the last poem that I ever wrote… almost ten years ago to the day. A blend of white champagne notes, grapefruit, lotus, slivered mint and crystalline aquatic blooms. That's kind of a poignant and sad scent description, but I guess that's the point. Grapefruit is a juicy topnote here, backed by bubblegum lotus in miniscule amounts, and a great deal of razzy champagne. This is sharp and hard, with a spreading warmth under like seeping blood. Yeah. Okay, I get the symbolism. This smells good, slightly aquatic, slightly clean, slightly citric It's not a very "me" scent, but that hardly stops me from appreciating it. It has a lot of throw and at a distance it smells almost equally of mint and grapefruit. The mint note I could do without, to be honest. Mint almost never smells good to me. Gag. This is a wistful, sharp scent, agonized. Worth investigating if a citric/aquatic blend sounds appealing to you.

Stridently herbal, this is all lavender and rosemary and lemon verbena, with a pleasant undertone of frankincense and neroli once it hits the skin. This is very herbal, clean, smells much like what I'd expect fantasy-novel bedding to smell like. Fresh and herb-rich, sweet and clean. The main scent is lavender, even once it's settled down a bit. It reminds me of some of the Stations of the Sun scents, especially Khephra. In fact, it smells almost exactly like Khephra, except where Khephra had cinnamon, Arcana has neroli. Hmm. This would be a good scent for linens, I think, or for bath products, but I'm not too fond of it as a perfume. I don't care for lavender, lavender doesn't care for me. I'll eat it, I'll sniff it, I think it's pretty, but I don't enjoy smelling like it. This one is definitely getting swapped. Recommended if you like herbal lavender scents, worth looking into. Less noxious than many lavender blends.

At first scent this is almost like mint bubble gum. But no, that's lavender with delphinium, a very sweet note that's at once sugary and floral. The musk is husky and soft, low. Very pretty. The jasmine is delicate and pale, sweet and cool. The rose is there in the middle, less a note than a supporting player, but I can detect it lending the whole thing a sort of lush and radiant warmth. This is cerebral and sensual at the same time. Fascinating. And there is, indeed, a hint of spice carried on the throw. A remarkably subtle, soft scent that requires some attention to really apprehend. I am impressed by this blend for its subtlety. Even though it contains lavender I would not characterize it as a lavender blend. This is more musky and generally floral.

This is very smooth and soft, the kind of smell you might find in your wealthy uncle's home office, the smell of expensive tobacco, leather, and a hint of a warm, brown musk. It's rich and deep, pleasant, and not at all overbearing. On, it's softer yet, a scent that could be the essence of your oddball aunt who used to be a pilot for an international crime syndicate, but has now settled down to run her own small business: an artefact smuggling ring. The leather blooms after about ten minutes, as the sweet musk settles down, and then this scent grows its teeth. You all know what leather does to me. This scent is no exception. It's a wonderful blend, because the softness of the musk and tobacco really give this one an air of civilized danger. It's much less aggressively sexual than most leather blends, and more subtle.

This is sweet and full in the bottle, a mix of sweet coffee and faint cinnamon swirling over a scent like the inside of a cigar box: pale wood and the softest, faintest aroma of tobacco. The tobacco smell is almost like caramel, a similarity that comes out more as I wear it. This is wonderful. A sweet, smooth scent, unisex edging toward masculine. I love this, and I'm sorry I didn't get a bottle, or even a full imp.

In the bottle, this is . . . umm. It's a fougere. This is the same general kind of scent as Villain, Old Scratch, The Scales of Deprivation, and so on. It smells a lot like Villain, actually. What I took for lavender initially is supposedly lilac, but it still smells like lavender to me. On . . . ahh, no, that's lilac. And leather. And a liquid, silvery musk. This has a lovely, alluring throw, half cologne, half perfume, all beautiful. Up close, the leather gives what would otherwise be a total miss of a scent some depth on my skin, and some sex appeal.

A rich Masonic incense coupled with mahogany wood, ebony, and pipe smoke. Incense and wood are dominant here, with an afterodor of sweet tobacco. I am so tickled by this painting that I'm predisposed to like this, but it's genuinely quite nice. The incense has a very sharp edge, almost like lavender, so it's hardly what I was expecting. I'm pretty sure that this is frankincense, since it has an almost lemony edge to it. It progresses through a steady series of stately incense notes, in fact; the drydown is a smooth sandalwood/amber, and the sharpness at this point is totally nonexistent.

Patchouli and sugary caramel reign. This is a delicious scent, delightful, just a little wicked. On, the wood really comes out – this smells like wood shavings and sweet sugar. And, like a certain other scent I could name, it smells a little like pine shavings you use for rodent bedding. This is musty and sort of dry on my skin, and has none of the rich, syrupy goodness the sweet wet smell promised! Fie! Fie!

Light orange and berry are lively in the bottle, and livelier on my skin. I like this immediately; it's foodier than it is citric, if that makes sense, so it's not a screaming bathroom-cleaner kind of smell. More candylike than anything. The patchouli in this is just really interesting. It doesn't appear until after I've moved away from the scent, then it's an afterodor in my nose, like the smell of turned earth. That's a little disturbing, to say the least. This blend has an aura of . . . haplessness. I don't know how else to put it. I can smell the happy, cheerful orange and berry, but underneath is a lurking horror. Very, very well-done.

"You sure you have the right guy?" That's my first impulse on smelling this. I've heard this is a cinnamon-heavy scent and there is a hint of cinnamon here, but most of it is . . . it's this thick, golden warmth, honey and incense, a sugary smoke scent that's somewhere between shortbread and smoldering resin. Good Lord, but this is good! On, yeah, the cinnamon has more jazz to it, but the resin is still riding high. This is not a hard-candy sort of smell. This is spiced smoke and smoldering coals strewn thick with precious resin. Myrrh, always golden and sugary, mingles with the so-traditional incense aroma of copal, and the faint, sweet hum of honeysuckle is crammed way back in there among them. This is hazy, thick, and warm, a ragged pelt of a scent that clings close, only lets sweet tendrils of odor creep out to entice and enchant. This is dangerously desirable, a perfume that raises the immediate question: do I eat it or have immediate sex with it? A person who'd wear this would do both, but wouldn't seem to care about the order. Go for it.

Indeed! Fascinating! This is ozone/aquatic with a hint of incense. Frankincense, if you must know. And frankincense, the good kind, has a bit of a tang to it that is citric in quality, like lemon zest. People are pegging this as citrusy, and it's really not. Not compared to, say, Phantasm, or any of the screaming verbena scents. This is ozone with a kick to it, and the incense notes give it depth: stormy, wet, salty, and very much alive, this has a real razzle-dazzle to it that I hadn't expected. I don't think it's one I will keep, but I'm not sorry I tried it. I think its appeal might be best described as "electrifyingly clean." Like Zeus' slightly lemon-flavored lightningbolt, that leaves behind a puff of ozone and a whiff of ritual incense when it strikes. Once that settles a bit, it becomes an ozone with bite, just a hint of resiny rasp. It's such an unusual, unexpected combination that it works in spite of itself. The pairing gives it a liveliness that it probably shouldn't have – a kind of unholy bearing, like something shocked into life. Pretty cool. What with the ozone/aquatics, it has some of the zest of the other aquatic blends I've liked really well, like Jolly Roger or Mist. I'm not married to it, but it's very neat, and worth a try for someone who can handle a bit of lemon. A good clean, after-shower sort of scent. Cool, but still has some presence.

Musk and leather over incense provide a powerfully sexual blend. On, the pepper gives this a high, keening note that seems to cry out of the middle of this scent. The chamomile is a fusty, herbal sweetness. The musk and leather are hand-in-hand, so rich and full that they are dizzying. This is subtler than I'm making it sound. It's not a smell you can describe as "big," but it is enveloping, like a shadow. It's all atmosphere, a shape described only by shadows, the scent equivalent of a Mike Mignola drawing, where it's all chiaroscuro. As the pepper settles a bit, it shifts back and forth between incense and spice, with musk and leather providing a steady drone in the background. It's moderate in intensity; respectable but not overwhelming throw, with a formidable aura of menacing sexuality. There is a spicy essence to this that is reminiscent of Geek, quite reminiscent. This has the same dangerous feel to it, the same feral, lurking quality of someone not quite right. And yet, there is a softness to it. Musk is soft, the leather warm, the incense enveloping. This is just a little weird . . . the pepper draws you in, the keening violin-strings warning of danger, but you can't turn away. And it becomes the darkness you are drawn into, the thing that waits for you there. A bitter note comes out ever so faintly on the drydown, giving this a final unnerving phase, like the climactic revelation. I can't pin this to a person. I could as easily imagine this on a club-hopping sex-hungry androgyne as I could on a slightly kooky secretary. I can imagine this on some scary multiply-pierced warlock, or on a teenager necking in the back seat of a car. This is just the scent of the darkness waiting inside all of us. To mangle a metaphor, if you sniff too long at the abyss, it sniffs back. You'll probably want to smell something like this, so it will recognize you as family.

Hellbound soul, lost to iniquity? Hey! Beth made a perfume just for me! Wine's sugary grape boozes it up with lush musk and a trickle of oozing honey. This has a floral chaser, like perfume tasted on the lips after taking a drink from a glass handed to you by some gorgeous creature. On, honey drips from it. The spilled wine has soaked away, leaving the room in a fog of wispy tobacco flower and sugar. The benzoin and opoponax are resinous, a miasma of the sensual, incense burned to hide the smell of f**king. It starts throaty and rasping, but it becomes more traditional as it wears. The honey and wine glue this together, but as they back down, it becomes a subtle combination of delicate, spicy florals, traditional resin notes, and the thick brew of musk. It's very well-balanced, sweet without being foody, and undeniably sensual. This is highly reminiscent of Sed Non Satiata, only more complicated. Chrysanthemum Moon had a touch of this as well, though this is far less incensey and much more sugary. Intense, lickable, and far beyond naughty. Yeah, this is the scent of a libertine. It's pure debauchery, start to finish.

Ladon is apple and musk and dragon's blood in the bottle, but it's a light, white musk more like Dorian's than like the thick musk of Dragon's musk. It's amazing how much variety a basic scent like musk can have – the odor of the darkest musk is hardly like the odor of the palest at all, and while red musk is unmistakeably musky, one would never mistake it for white musk or for black musk. Anyway, this is mostly apple and dragon's blood, with a slight drift of musk. It has a lot of throw once it's applied and is a sweet, almost candylike apple odor with a nice layer of cool, light florals. The juiciness of the dragon's blood keeps it from becoming powdery at all, and instead keeps it sticky and cool. It's a lovely scent, a bit reminiscent of Bilquis and Les Bijoux, as far as the apple is concerned. The end of it is musk and flowers, with a hint of spicy dragon's blood. Very nice.

I have high, high hopes for this one. Dragon's blood and ylang-ylang are in the front, with a subtle whiff of other incense below. On, it's a slowly-warming blend of incenses in which the poppy is a high, keening note twined inextricably and strangely with the ylang-ylang. The dragon's blood is a sweet undercurrent, juicy, liquid, that keeps this from being too shrill, though it is a very high-pitched perfume. I was expecting this to be more smoky and dirty, more like Chrysanthemum Moon, but it's not. It's powerfully light and almost clean as the ylang-ylang and dragon's blood make it vaguely soapy in character. I like this. I don't like it as much as I expected to, or in the way I expected, but I do like it. This has persistence, and respectable throw, and while it's not what I'd characterize as an aggressive scent, it does linger powerfully. The drydown is utterly fantastic, whatever I may think of the windup. Almost gone, it's burned-out amber with a stiff dose of tarry opium and a faint whiff of crusted dragon's blood on the inside of the brazier. Beautiful, and worth the wait to get there.

This is a thick, viscous liquid so dark red it's almost black. And the smell of it is thick, too, and dark, and forbidding. Musk blows in first, with a redolent richness behind that is the fig and currant, that sticky, tarry sweetness. The dragon's blood is faint, an influence, a high note barely heard under the bass rumble of the low end of this scent. This is a beautiful mixture. Wet, it's more subtle than I would have expected. And richer. This has a lot of depth, real depth. The black and red musk contrast not only with the dragon's blood high, moist note, but with one another, trading out in prominence, systolic and diastolic, throbbing, rhythmic.

Dragon's Eye is a kaleidoscopic blend of delicate florals and dragon's blood, a shimmering veil of scent that is at once scarlet and purple. Quite rich and lush, and very beautiful. Because I know that florals don't work on me, I'm apprehensive, but it smells so pleasant in the bottle I have to try. On, oh my, this is a very true, very true floral. It smells thick and fleshy, almost rotten, like a real iris. It's lovely, if a bit stiflingly sweet. The throw, however, is polite, and after a minute or so it cools off and takes a seat, becomes more manageable. I do not like florals but I like this; none of the elements that are usually unbearable on me are going sour, even the lily is behaving itself. How wonderful! This has an intimate element to it, a skin-scent, a closeness, that makes me want to call this a true perfume, something you'd use to augment your natural odor, not cover it. A scent that clings close instead of announcing itself, a scent that waits to be discovered. I like it very much. What little throw it has is polite and pretty, but up close it's a lush, deep, thick scent, enfolding, engulfing. Recommended.

Dragon's blood and smooth, somber sandalwood are clear in the bottle, easily detectable. I believe this is the palest in color of the Ars Draconis oils I've yet tried. The oil itself is a light straw color, like venom. The dragon's blood sweetens the sandalwood a little and keeps it from being too dusty once it goes on the skin. The sandalwoods here are a nice blend of notes; spicy, woody, smooth, cool. This is, indeed, a polished scent, very elegant and refined, but with a hint of an edge. An edge that grows keener as it wears, a spicy, almost harsh aura of old wood, dirty wood. Yet the blend itself is clean, uncluttered, not noisy. There's not much going on here, it's a very still scent: just two elements, playing around one another.

Dragon's blood perfumes already smell fruity to me, like cool, sliced melon. Here it's played up with the addition of salty, aquatic notes for a scent that almost smells like cucumber and melon. I like it. On, it's a little richer. It never fails to amaze me how different dragon's blood perfume smells from the burning resin. It's identifiably similar, but the burning incense has a much throatier edge, and here it's just clean and moist and sweet. This is very pleasant, though slightly soapy.

Musk. Musk, musk, musk! With just a hint of sweet, juicy dragon's blood. This is a swarthy and thick scent, very perfumey and heady with a rich flush of musk. Prime among these is a fleshy red musk and a rich dark musk. This is an intense scent, heavy. It goes on almost foody it's so organic, a steamy biological odor tinged with rich red resins, a scent I could easily imagine rising from the tarry oil that oozes up between a dragon's scent-scales. Not a scent for those who find musks usually go rancid on them, but definitely one to try if you're a fan of musky, slightly dirty scents. This is appealing, smooth rather than sharp, but not without tooth.

White musk and orchid weave together in an ultra-light blend that is ever so subtle. Even on, there is very little to this. It's not strongly rooted in any one category, it's really a medley of all its influences, and no one note dominates. This is soft, and less masculine than you might think. The top half is very light, almost powdery, and the body of it has a faint earthy undertone that is nonetheless moist. It's not vivid, it's very understated, a perfume to wear when you don't want the scent to be noticed, you want you to be noticed. This would be an excellent choice for everyday wear. It's light, clean, and inviting, but subtle enough to remain appealing even on drydown.