The Poison Queen

Inspired by and created for my beloved Tedwin: my eternal, beautiful, wicked Dorian Gray. Refined, elegant, and lovely, with a noble bearing and seemingly gentle air. This blend is an artful deception: a sweet gilded blossom lying over a twisted and corrupted core. A Victorian fougere with three pale musks and dark, sugared vanilla tea. Pure, glorious, perfect Dorian. I absolutely am SO excited this has become a HG. Throw is large without being overwhelming, and my hair looks super shiny. I had high hopes for this and I am 100% not disappointed. Thank you so much, Puddin!

Fallen apples, grave moss, autumn leaves, and upturned earth. In the Bottle: Graveyard dirt and cidery apples. MMM! Wet: Dirt and cidery apples (I mean the non-hard cider variety, a nice clear apple with a hint of spice) with a bit of moss and leaves. I LOVE this. I was so right about thinking I would love this scent and it's AMAZING! Dry: Appley dirt. I LOVE it. There's a touch of almost osmanthus-like sweetness at the end here, and it's just really perfect! Verdict: Hoard forever.

It was the secrets of heaven and earth that I desired to learn; and whether it was the outward substance of things or the inner spirit of nature and the mysterious soul of man that occupied me, still my inquiries were directed to the metaphysical, or in its highest sense, the physical secrets of the world. The scent of absinthe, lightning, stormclouds, and laudanum crashing through a veil of soft Victorian oriental perfume. In the bottle: A pure, gorgeous absinthe! I don't get any of the Ozone, just a light and clean anise and a bit of wormwood underlying it. Wet on Skin: OH this is a heavenly absinthe scent with a very strong wormwood note, I like it very much! I get a hint of ozone here! Dry: Laudanum. Nooo. Go on, go back to the back of the line, I don't want you to come out and play. ;___: this turns to pure laudanum on me, and everything that I love about this scent disappears. Thanks skin for ruining it. I really wanted this to be a winner scent for me, and it's just not. Hopefully time will help it along.

Like brooms of steel The Snow and Wind Had swept the Winter Street, The House was hooked, The Sun sent out Faint Deputies of heat- The Apple in the cellar snug Where rode the Bird The Silence tied His ample, plodding Steed, Was all the one that played. - Emily Dickinson Sharp, metallic slices of snow and freezing wind with a faint hint of cellar dust, burlap, and apple. In the bottle: There is such a strong camphor note to this that I cannot smell anything else. Whew. On the skin: Bitter camphor and eucalyptus with a hint of sour apples. Dry: Medicinal and sweet, but not the usual apple note I am used to from the lab. Not... really what I was hoping for with this scent. This is off to the swaps.

The man who had brought me now squirmed to a point directly beside the hideous flame, and made stiff ceremonial motions to the semicircle he faced. At certain stages of the ritual they did grovelling obeisance, especially when he held above his head that abhorrent Necronomicon he had taken with him; and I shared all the obeisances because I had been summoned to this festival by the writings of my forefathers. Then the old man made a signal to the half-seen flute-player in the darkness, which player thereupon changed its feeble drone to a scarce louder drone in another key; precipitating as it did so a horror unthinkable and unexpected. At this horror I sank nearly to the lichened earth, transfixed with a dread not of this nor any world, but only of the mad spaces between the stars.
 The mad spaces between the stars: oakmoss, myrrh, vetiver, rectified cade, ravinsara, wild verbena, and neroli. In the bottle: Vetiver and verbena with an undertone of the juniper cade. Very interesting. Wet: Mostly lemony verbena, actually very pleasant without being pledge. I get a hint of the neroli and the vetiver stays low in the background. This is a very dark oil in physical color! Dry: Much the same as wet, but maybe with a hint of the oakmoss. Really a very interesting scent, glad to have a bottle.

No tower too high, no dragon too mighty! Get in ass-kickin’, self-savin’ gear with this bright, energetic perfume! Orange blossom, neroli, white musk, shimmering amber, yellow sandalwood, Himalayan cedar, radiant saffron, and golden honey. In the bottle: Musk and amber with a touch of orange blossom. Wet: Cedar and saffron with just a touch of musk. I am not a huge cedar fan and I am so worried this is going to over-run all that gorgeous orange blossom and neroli that I wanted from this. Dry: Powdery cedar with a touch of neroli. I am hoping this ages well and the cedar mellows out some.

Mad with power, madly in love, or just mad: a dark, spellbinding, seductively narcissistic mix of tuberose, blackened vanilla musk, caraway, white gardenia, red amber, black velvet accord, and jasmine sambac. In the bottle: Suspiciously foodie. Uh oh. Wet: Foodie vanilla, nooo, but it mellows out into a nice floral. The tuberose is really prominent. Dry: Mostly a soft tuberose, I do like this. I think a little aging will mellow that foodie-ish vanilla out and it will be marvelous.

Amber and black copal with black coconut, Sumatran red patchouli, green cardamom pod, and golden musk. In the bottle: Amber and coconut. Not normally something I would like, but I do! Wet: Coconut, amber and musk. Really a beautiful scent, I'm impressed with both of these! Drydown: Musky, almost vanilla coconut, but not in a foodie way at all, just in a very pleasant, close to the skin smell. Not a ton of sillage on me, but I like this one too!

Leather drenched with white patchouli, oak bark, bourbon vanilla, bitter almond, and Moroccan jasmine. In the bottle: Almond and oak, almost with a bit of smoky leather to it! Wet: Almond and oak with just a hint of patchouli and a breath of jasmine, still a tinge of that leather scent. Not my usual style of perfume, but LOVELY on me! Drydown: Soft sweet almond. Despite being earthy in tone, this is actually a very airy scent to me! I do really like it! Dry: Sweet jasmine and leather, in a very pleasant way. No idea how the leather in this is working on me, but it's lovely!

I was far from home, and the spell of the eastern sea was upon me. In the twilight I heard it pounding on the rocks, and I knew it lay just over the hill where the twisting willows writhed against the clearing sky and the first stars of evening. And because my fathers had called me to the old town beyond, I pushed on through the shallow, new-fallen snow along the road that soared lonely up to where Aldebaran twinkled among the trees; on toward the very ancient town I had never seen but often dreamed of. Sea salt, kelp, and twisting willows. In the bottle: Beautiful aquatics and something just a little foody-woody. Wet: Gorgeous, salty aquatic! The foodieness turned mostly into a spicy wood. Drydown: This stays salty aquatic on me, it's really lovely but that little foodie note is just a tad disappointing for me, I will have to see if it ages out, because if it does this will be my perfect aquatic!

The Miskatonic Valley’s premiere sex shop. Black and red musks with honey, leather, and sugared black rose. In the bottle: Leather, leather and leather! Definitely a black, new leather. Wet: Still just about a single note leather on me. This is really lovely. There's something just a little powdery to it (likely the honey), but not in a way that would ruin it. Very strong, a big throw for me on this. Dry: Leather, leather leather. If I wanted a SN leather I sure got it! I really do like this and I don't mind at all that it's all leather on me, though I would have liked some of that sugared black rose.

The Visionary Silent is the house: all are laid asleep: One alone looks out o'er the snow-wreaths deep, Watching every cloud, dreading every breeze That whirls the wildering drift, and bends the groaning trees. Cheerful is the hearth, soft the matted floor; Not one shivering gust creeps through pane or door; The little lamp burns straight, its rays shoot strong and far: I trim it well, to be the wanderer's guiding-star. Frown, my haughty sire! chide, my angry dame! Set your slaves to spy; threaten me with shame: But neither sire nor dame nor prying serf shall know, What angel nightly tracks that waste of frozen snow. What I love shall come like visitant of air, Safe in secret power from lurking human snare; What loves me, no word of mine shall e'er betray, Though for faith unstained my life must forfeit pay. Burn, then, little lamp; glimmer straight and clear- Hush! a rustling wing stirs, methinks, the air: He for whom I wait, thus ever comes to me; Strange Power! I trust thy might; trust thou my constancy. - Emily Brontë What I love shall come like a visitant of air. The wild freedom of the snow-gleaming heath thrusting through the dull safety of the hearth and the doldrums of the bleak, rolling moors. Lush, honeyed red musk twined with heart-thrilling white musk on passion-warmed skin against a backdrop of raw, iced peat, common heather, and hearth wood. In the bottle: This reminds me very strongly of the scent of a good metaphysical shop, the musk is really very lovely and there's a bit of wood. Wet: Heather and musk! What a gorgeous combination! Dry: Still heather and musk with just a touch of iced peat, this is really very lovely. I want a backup!


Fainting and gasping, I looked at that unhallowed Erebus of titan toadstools, leprous fire, and slimy water, and saw the cloaked throngs forming a semicircle around the blazing pillar. It was the Yule-rite, older than man and fated to survive him; the primal rite of the solstice and of spring's promise beyond the snows; the rite of fire and evergreen, light and music. And in the Stygian grotto I saw them do the rite, and adore the sick pillar of flame, and throw into the water handfuls gouged out of the viscous vegetation which glittered green in the chlorotic glare. I saw this, and I saw something amorphously squatted far away from the light, piping noisomely on a flute; and as the thing piped I thought I heard noxious muffled flutterings in the foetid darkness where I could not see. But what frightened me most was that flaming column; spouting volcanically from depths profound and inconceivable, casting no shadows as healthy flame should, and coating the nitrous stone above with a nasty, venomous verdigris. For in all that seething combustion no warmth lay, but only the clamminess of death and corruption.
 Viscous vegetation, slimy water, suffocating incense: death cap and false morel with green frankincense, black copal, Spanish moss, celery seed, and lime rind over stagnant black liquid and decaying kelp. In the Bottle: This smells like putrid, decaying plant matter, like damp, rotting woods and leaves and mushrooms and all the things of the forest. I am not sure I am brave enough to skin test this. D: Okay it took me all day to work up to it, but here you go. Wet on skin: Oh God, gross, get it off!! Very green and rot-y smelling with a sickening sweet undertone. D: D: D: Dry: Sharp, putrid narcissus, like rotting narcissus flowers in the woods where some unholy ritual has been done. Unless the Elder Gods tell me to keep this scent, it will be finding a new home.

HARVEST MOON 2013 Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, Death, the gray mocker, Comes and whispers to you As a beautiful friend Who remembers. Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with little hands, Comes and touches you With a thousand memories, And asks you Beautiful, unanswerable questions. - Carl Sandburg Red roses and wild red leaves. In the bottle: A sharp leafynes with an underlying bit of rose. VERY interesting! Wet: A beautiful leafy rose. This is unlike ANY scent I've ever smelled, and distinctly a rose but very different. I LOVE the red leaf note! Drydown: a soft autumn rose, like crumbled leaf dust (without being actually dusty or powdery). GORGEOUS! definitely not powdery or musty on me at all. Dry: This stays very leafy and rosy, it's really just one of the most exquisite blends I've gotten from the lab, and it hands down my favorite lunacy yet. As a rose lover this is fantastic, but I could really see it being a friendly rose for those who aren't too fond of it.

Whether you’re flipping through poisoned apple recipes on Pinterest, researching dilapidated towers to house irritating princesses, or simply interested in a sporting match of croquet, dab a little of our perfume behind each ear, and you’ll be ready to destroy all those who stand in your way. Velvet red roses, mimosa blossom, heady magnolia, oudh, and black patchouli draped across a regal purple musk. In the bottle: A mysterious scent, really, the mimosa blossom is the strongest note. Wet: Musk and mimosa blossom. A little strange, unsure if I like this! Dry: Mimosa blossom and magnolia, I definitely like this better dry! Very interested to see how it ages.

Pointing to a chair, table, and pile of books, the old man now left the room; and when I sat down to read I saw that the books were hoary and mouldy, and that they included old Morryster's wild Marvells of Science, the terrible Saducismus Triumphatus of Joseph Glanvill, published in 1681, the shocking Daemonolatreia of Remigius, printed in 1595 at Lyons, and worst of all, the unmentionable Necronomicon of the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred, in Olaus Wormius' forbidden Latin translation; a book which I had never seen, but of which I had heard monstrous things whispered.
 Yellowed fragments of vellum and parchment scrawled with unnamable horrors invoking ghastly abominations: decaying papers and moldering leather with sickly-sweet tonka, inky musk, black sandalwood, black fig, sugandh kokila, and pimento leaf.
 In the bottle: Uhhh. Sushi. Not fishy but cucumber rolls, with a hint of wasabi. That is VERY interesting. I really smell cucumber. Wet: dusty cucumber, paper and leather, with a touch of sandalwood. Much better on, and I think aging will erase that cucumber smell, but boy it made me want sushi. Dry: Musk and mouldering papers with a bit of sandalwood and leather. Definitely worth keeping to age, I would love to see how this develops.

Are you over your liege lord’s shenanigans? Do you think you could do one better? Look no further! We have the perfect Power Cologne for you! Overthrow the rightful regent with style: smoky vetiver cologne with black leather, black pepper, smoky coffee bean, Italian bergamot, and Mysore sandalwood. In the bottle: A dark, smokey vetiver with just a hint of leather. Wet: Oh ugh, my boy will love this A very sour vetiver with a bit of a sharp green edge, still a little smokey. This is the vetiver I like to call "hateful vetiver", it's dark and twisted and definitely makes me think of misdeeds. Dry: Sour leather and more hateful vetiver. I really can't wait to smell this on my fella because I think I am ruining it.

Apple peel and oak ash, briar thorns and pine ash, and cypress gathered at a dead man's grave. In the Bottle: Camphor and dirt, oh dear, very much like the camphor that ruined "Like Brooms of Steel" for me. Wet: the Camphor is still very strong with hints of wood and cypress and a bit of the sweetness of the apple peel. Much better than I thought. Dry: The sweetness of the apple peel is much stronger now, I am glad I skintested it but I am still unsure about it because my nose can't get past that camphor. I am hoping a bit of aging will do it good. There's definitely none of that lovely burning smell that scents like Halloween in Los Angeles and Burning Book have, and I so wanted there to be some.

LINDWORM Signelil sits in her bower alone, Of her golden harp she waked the tone. Beneath her mantle her harp she played, Then in came striding the worm so laid. “Proud Signelil, if thou me wilt wed, I’ll give thee store of gold so red.” “Forbid the heavenly God so great That I should become the Lindworm’s mate.” “Since thee I may not for a wife acquire, Kiss me only and I’ll retire.” The linen so white betwixt she placed, And the laidly worm she kissed in haste. With his tail of serpent up strook he, From beneath her dress the blood ran free. The Lindworm down from the chamber strode, Wringing her hands behind she trode. And when she came out upon the stair Her seven bold brothers met her there. “Welcome our sister, whither dost hie? Keep’st thou the Lindworm company?” “Ah, yes! with the laidly worm I go, Because hard fate will have it so.” The Lindworm into the mountain strode, Wringing her hands behind she trode. She fell on her knee, and her prayer she made, “Now son of Mary deign to aid.” And when he had come to the mountain in, Off he cast his serpent’s skin. His snake’s appearance off he shook, And the form of a stately knight he took. “Thanks for thy trouble, proud Signelil, Now live and die with thee I will.” Now is proud Signild free from fright, In a prince’s arm she sleeps each night. Smoky green leather smeared with crushed grasses and wild herbs. In the Bottle- Grass and leather with a hint of smoke to it, and unusual scent but interesting. On my skin- EUUUUGH! P-plastic beach ball smell, like when you are blowing up a beach ball! What on EARTH! After 20 mins- Plastic beach ball and grass now, with a twinge of flowers and a hint of doctor's office. What a strange scent!

Following the Indian Removal Act of 1830, the Choctaw, Seminole, Muscogee, Chickasaw, and Cherokee tribes were driven from their homes, prompted in part by the Georgia Gold Rush. This forced westward emigration was rife with grief, suffering, and tremendous hardship, and resulted in the deaths of thousands upon thousands of Native Americans. In their sorrow, the Cherokee called upon Unetlanvhi, the Great Spirit, to give strength, succor, and comfort to their people. Whenever a mother’s tear fell upon the ground, the Creator gave life to a five-petaled white rose. In the center of each blossom, the Great Spirit placed a gold coin, symbol of the white man’s greed. Each flowering stem sprouted seven leaflets, one for each Cherokee clan. The roses were strong, beautiful, and prolific, and spread quickly along the Trail of Tears, reaching far and wide to reclaim some of the Cherokee’s lost homeland. The thorns on the stem served to defend the rose, protecting it against those who would try to move it, and symbolized the Great Spirit’s safeguarding of the Cherokee people. As the clans saw the roses spread, they felt Unetlanvhi’s love and strength, and knew that they would survive and flourish in the new Cherokee Nation. In the Bottle- Rosy with a hint of green, like a garden of roses. It's VERY pleasant, not cloying at all, light and airy. Pleasant and soft. On my wrist- Much more rose now, still light and lovely like a rose garden but with a stronger throw than I expected, it's not the heady red rose of Peacock Queen, but pleasant and just lovely with just a tinge of rose stem to it. I am SO happy I got a few of these! This is a keeper for me! I am SO pleased with this scent!

Somalian myrrh, purple roses, orris root concrete, French cypress, and pomegranate juice. In the Bottle: Dark violets and rose and sweet pomegranate. There aren't any violets in this! I know some people percieve actual orris root to smell of violets, but it's doesn't smell that way at all to me usually, and I usually associate the lab's orris note with dusty bone or a sweet dryness. It's very pleasant! Wet: Sweet violets, with a huge throw, over pomegranate. Very pleasant. Drydown: Candied violet and pomegranate. Still a huge throw, almost overwhelming but still very nice. I think this is a great autumn scent, and am very happy that the myrrh doesn't turn powdery on me.

The Garden in Winter Frosty-white and cold it lies Underneath the fretful skies; Snowflakes flutter where the red Banners of the poppies spread, And the drifts are wide and deep Where the lilies fell asleep. But the sunsets o'er it throw Flame-like splendor, lucent glow, And the moonshine makes it gleam Like a wonderland of dream, And the sharp winds all the day Pipe and whistle shrilly gay. Safe beneath the snowdrifts lie Rainbow buds of by-and-by; In the long, sweet days of spring Music of bluebells shall ring, And its faintly golden cup Many a primrose will hold up. Though the winds are keen and chill Roses' hearts are beating still, And the garden tranquilly Dreams of happy hours to be - In the summer days of blue All its dreamings will come true. - Lucy Maud Montgomery Swaths of red poppies, white roses, graceful winter lilies, and sun-bright primroses beaming from beneath a flutter of snowflakes. In the bottle: Lilies and snow! Wet: Lilies and poppies with a dust of snow on them. This is a very visual scent for me and I don't normally have a visual reaction to scent, but I can just see the lightly snow covered primroses and poppies and lilies and roses drooping with the weight of the snow on them. Dry: A light, floral snow. Lovely!

A Winter Dawn Above the marge of night a star still shines, And on the frosty hills the somber pines Harbor an eerie wind that crooneth low Over the glimmering wastes of virgin snow. Through the pale arch of orient the morn Comes in a milk-white splendor newly-born, A sword of crimson cuts in twain the gray Banners of shadow hosts, and lo, the day! - Lucy Maud Montgomery The soft splendor of dawn in winter: pearlescent pink grapefruit, neroli, helichrysum, freesia, white mandarin, and rockrose rising behind a dapple of snowflakes. In the bottle: Soft snow, almost like a SN of the lab's snow note. Wet: Soft, floral snow, maybe a tinge of grapefruit. This is really pleasant and one of my favorite snow scents from the lab so far. Dry: The florals come out much more here, very pleasant, very sweet, but the snow note is still predominant. I like this one a lot!

Then I saw the lurid shimmering of pale light, and heard the insidious lapping of sunless waters. Again I shivered, for I did not like the things that the night had brought, and wished bitterly that no forefather had summoned me to this primal rite. As the steps and the passage grew broader, I heard another sound, the thin, whining mockery of a feeble flute; and suddenly there spread out before me the boundless vista of an inner world-a vast fungous shore litten by a belching column of sick greenish flame and washed by a wide oily river that flowed from abysses frightful and unsuspected to join the blackest gulfs of immemorial ocean.
 Salted citron, black coconut, wormwood, and oily labdanum oozing through fungal mosses and sick, greenish subterranean flora.
 In the bottle: My first impression is one of salt, and then a bit of the citron and coconut. Wet: Aquatic and salty with just a touch of fungus. Dry: Salty aquatic fungus, actually very pleasant. I wish that citron stuck around more, perhaps aging will help it along.

Poppy wine, chthonic incense, Balm of Gilead, and pomegranate. In the bottle: dark, sweet wine and opium. Wet on skin: Almond? Almost a marzipan with pomegranates underneath. My skin is certainly playing around with this scent. Drydown: Sweet wine and pomegranate. This is very pleasant. Very interested to see how this ages.