doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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Honey and Summer Herbs.
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The tiniest of dragons, these flirty, silly, and theatrical beasts build their nests in gilded opera boxes, toy stores, and above confectionaries and sweet shops. Their scales blaze like a handful of maraschino cherries and red currants bathed in fluorescent lighting, sparkling with sugar crystals and drizzled with vanilla liqueur.
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Peach Rock Candy.
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Pumpkin cream, honey, vanilla sugar, and smoked vanilla bean.
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A strangely sensual, darkly fae All Hallow’s Eve cologne, a perfume of the Otherworld: black pumpkin, leather, pomegranate incense, agarwood, and bourbon patchouli.
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The fear of Halloween. Menacing Haitian vetiver, patchouli, and clove with a shock of bourbon geranium, grim oakmoss, and dread-inspiring balsams pierce the innocuous scent of autumn leaves.
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Airy brioche infused with spiced pumpkin and silken vanilla with a slow drizzle of maple warmed by sugared amber.
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Brown sugar cookies with fat chunks of cinnamon-dusted apple and swirls of caramel.
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Then said a teacher, Speak to us of Teaching. And he said: No man can reveal to you aught but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of your knowledge. The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and his lovingness. If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter the house of his wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind. The astronomer may speak to you of his understanding of space, but he cannot give you his understanding. The musician may sing to you of the rhythm which is in all space, but he cannot give you the ear which arrests the rhythm nor the voice that echoes it. And he who is versed in the science of numbers can tell of the regions of weight and measure, but he cannot conduct you thither. For the vision of one man lends not its wings to another man. And even as each one of you stands alone in God’s knowledge, so must each one of you be alone in his knowledge of God and in his understanding of the earth. A perfume for knowledge and the wisdom to wield it well: frankincense, green cedar, white sandalwood, bay leaf, and hyssop.
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A dream hearse for anyone who grew up presiding over numerous doll funerals: flashy pink guava, strawberry jam, sugared pink grapefruit, blackberry, bergamot, and pink champagne adorned with a gleaming chrome Landau bar.
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A venerable summer update prototype that went unreleased.
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A chilled, sticky, blue-flavored scent that was a prototype for a film promo.
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A 99-cent drugstore eyeliner freshly melted with a Bic lighter, in concert with the leathery metallic gleam of a well-loved pyramid spike bracelet.
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Hollow plastic shells of mango sherbet and musky black clove echoing with a ghostly miaow of glowing amber.
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"Darling, it's not chaos. It's couture." The scent of a goblin atelier: a strange alchemy of high-end avant-garde perfume, animalic musk, and silk stitched with scraps of leather colliding with honeyed ale, dust from shattered rhinestones, and the oily sparkle of iron.
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A tribute to the squeaky plastic rats that haunt every Halloween bin — adorable little horrors with gleaming eyes and crooked tails. Shiny black licorice, grey amber, and a dusting of smoky black pepper.
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I think that woman gets out in the daytime! And I’ll tell you why—privately—I’ve seen her! I can see her out of every one of my windows! It is the same woman, I know, for she is always creeping, and most women do not creep by daylight. I see her on that long shaded lane, creeping up and down. I see her in those dark grape arbors, creeping all around the garden. I see her on that long road under the trees, creeping along, and when a carriage comes she hides under the blackberry vines. I don’t blame her a bit. It must be very humiliating to be caught creeping by daylight! Furtive, uncanny. Blackened blackberry bleeds onto bruised green leaves, crushed grass, and wet earth while tendrils of honeysuckle clutch and grasp at noontime shadows.
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An unreleased prototype for a holiday frimp that was bloodied by accident. Think Sweeney Todd if it was fruity, meatless, and more of an “oops.”
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An unreleased scent concept from our Miskatonic Valley series that was inspired by the antics of a mall Santa in Innsmouth.
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Cheerful, loquacious, and attention-grabbing, Coquelicot Dragons are bold, confident, lively, and crackling with infectious laughter. They are most often found perched at festivals, concerts in the park, and block parties, their scales of citrus zest, wild poppy, red carnation, crimson amber, mimosa, and pink pepper gleaming in the sunlight.
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Contemplative and aloof, the Glaucous Dragon prefers mist-shrouded beachside cliffs, sea-battered ruins, and fog-thick fjords. These dragons are unapproachable and solemn; their scales are the color of weathered stone, pale sage, silvered fir resin, white amber, beach lichen, and hazy orris.
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Sugared Peach Milk.
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Black Musk and Black Honey.
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Peach Chai.
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Black Lilac and Black Tea.