doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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Dead Leaves, Molten Lava Cake, and Raw Cacao.
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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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It struck me—every Day— The Lightning was as new As if the Cloud that instant slit And let the Fire through— It burned Me—in the Night— It Blistered to My Dream— It sickened fresh upon my sight— With every Morn that came— I though that Storm—was brief— The Maddest—quickest by— But Nature lost the Date of This— And left it in the Sky— – Emily Dickinson It burned me—in the Night— It Blistered to My Dream— A scent born from sleepless nights and storms that carve themselves indelibly into memory, when lightning is no longer sky-bound, but lives in the beat of your heart and the whisper of your breath. Opium-laced benzoin and sweet myrrh veiled in black amber, violet incense and bruised plum, streaked with star jasmine, white frankincense, and ozone-crackled white musk.
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Bast, Ubasti, Ailuros, Ba-en-Aset. Represented as both a domestic cat and a fierce lioness, she truly evidences traits of both. She is the Mother of All Cats, Goddess of Sensuality, Fertility, and a guardian and protector of women. She is also one of the Eyes of Ra, and in that aspect is an Avenging Goddess, seeking retribution and punishing enemies of her people. Luxuriant amber, warm Egyptian musk, fierce saffron and soft myrrh, almond, cardamom and golden lotus.
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Lightning Moon: White Musk and Golden Frankincense
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Duets & Menage A Trois
White Musk and Golden Frankincense. -
Patchouli and Smoked Vanilla.
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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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Dead Leaves, Dried Fig, and Hay.
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Goth music and goth culture are for everyone. The more, the scarier! But try telling that to the troll who’s appointed themselves as guardian of an entire subculture, which they alone seemingly understand every nuance of. So purely for fun, we asked Drew Rausch to visualize this archetype for us as an undead horror host called the GOTHIC GATEKEEPER, who smells like every record store dickhead demanding that you name three songs from the band whose shirt you’re wearing… but the goth version. Behold: pleather, incense, and a ton of vinyl.
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Wish we had eight arms – then we could get more sleeves! Tattoo ink afuzz with caramelized pumpkin pulp, bourbon, cranberry juice, sweet patchouli, and red peppercorns.
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Every leaf tells a story.
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You’re a grownup, no one can stop you from slurping up clouds of rooty foam from around a giant glump of pumpkin ice cream squished onto the rim of a frosted goblet.
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Strangled on Midsummer’s Eve
doomsday_disco replied to doomsday_disco's topic in The Edward Gorey House
This is a very purple scent. Wisteria is the standout note on me, which was what I was hoping for, but sadly, the charred wood goes a little funky on me in the background. I don't think there's any actual violet or rose in this scent, or if those notes are present, they are not distinct on me. I've tested this several times, and I do get the tannic tea along with the wisteria and charred wood -- but during the first few tests, it was more of a background player, and during the last one, it was just as strong as the wisteria, and I swear it's one of those tea notes from the Lab with a slight anise-y quality to it (although that faded away after some time). The charred wood note going funky makes this scent one I wouldn't reach for, but if you enjoy wisteria and tannic tea notes, and can handle a bit of char, this might be up your alley. -
Peach Chai.
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Roasted pumpkin soaked in golden brandy, clove, nutmeg, and vanilla absolute.
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Blackberry and Wild Lilac.
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Often found napping in office cubicles and unrented studio apartments, this dragon is too apathetic to be evil and too bored to bother with goodness. She doesn’t hoard gold; she collects neutral-toned throw pillows, unread magazines, and Live Laugh Love-branded décor. Their scales are a rainbow of oatmeal, sandalwood, almond milk, tea-stained vanilla, and undyed wool in a muted eggshell finish.
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Dragon’s Blood and Red Wine.
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A tumultuous scent for tumultuous times: dragon’s blood resin, black clove, thunderous black musk, scorched 7-year aged patchouli, tabac absolute, and crushed pomegranate.
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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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Looked at in one way each breadth stands alone, the bloated curves and flourishes—a kind of “debased Romanesque” with delirium tremens—go waddling up and down in isolated columns of fatuity. But, on the other hand, they connect diagonally, and the sprawling outlines run off in great slanting waves of optic horror, like a lot of wallowing seaweeds in full chase. The whole thing goes horizontally, too, at least it seems so, and I exhaust myself in trying to distinguish the order of its going in that direction. They have used a horizontal breadth for a frieze, and that adds wonderfully to the confusion. There is one end of the room where it is almost intact, and there, when the cross-lights fade and the low sun shines directly upon it, I can almost fancy radiation after all,—the interminable grotesques seem to form around a common centre and rush off in headlong plunges of equal distraction. Flowers in full chase, radiant and absurd, grotesquely endless: narcissus blooms lolling on broken stems, their buttery perfume swelling into a debased crescendo of honeyed heliotrope, toxic lily of the valley, almond blossom, and opium poppy.
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Black Butterfly Moon: Myrrh and Black Berries
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Duets & Menage A Trois
Myrrh and Black Berries. -
A scent inspired by the debris left over from frantic last-minute costuming sessions. Torn scraps of velvety black voodoo lily mingled with dried rose petals and a flash of red peppercorn.
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It is a big, airy room, the whole floor nearly, with windows that look all ways, and air and sunshine galore. It was nursery first and then playground and gymnasium, I should judge; for the windows are barred for little children, and there are rings and things in the walls. Radiant emptiness: a breezy citrus-touched aldehyde with a hint of sunny amber and dusty heliotrope, and the metallic tang of sun-warmed iron bars.
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He stopped short by the door. “What is the matter?” he cried. “For God’s sake, what are you doing!” I kept on creeping just the same, but I looked at him over my shoulder. “I’ve got out at last,” said I, “in spite of you and Jane! And I’ve pulled off most of the paper, so you can’t put me back!” Now why should that man have fainted? But he did, and right across my path by the wall, so that I had to creep over him every time! Torn paper revealing scorched plaster embedded with bitter citron, yellow grapefruit, and damp white cedar.