doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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Apricot, cream musk, bourbon vanilla, and golden bergamot.
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Orange Blossom Honey and Silver Musk.
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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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Blackberries and Coconut Cream.
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Satin-lined coffin wood stained with dried blood and a whiff of long-faded cologne, dusted with grave soil.
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A sinister harvest, a bowl of freshly picked berries left as an offering beneath unsettling lime-tinged moonbeams, their juice staining pale hands red: crushed wild strawberries, night-blooming datura, goblin’s gold moss, dried berry incense, sticky honey, and a slow bleed of blackcurrant sap over cold white musk.
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Sugared lemon cream, lemon peel, raw sugar cane, cucumber, and black tea.
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Plum-soaked black patchouli, indigo musk, poppy absolute, guava pulp, black tea, and tobacco.
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Strawberry Moon: Dried Strawberries and Dragon’s Blood Resin Hair Gloss
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Hair
Dried Strawberries and Dragon’s Blood Resin. -
An oil to draw harmony and calm wherever it is applied. Infused with soothing herbs and resins, this oil works to keep your home, workplace, or sacred space free from conflict. Anoint doorways, windows, or your pulse points to settle arguments, ease frayed nerves, and encourage understanding between people. Perfect for moments when tempers run high, Peacekeeper helps restore balance, calm emotions, and foster an atmosphere of respect and mutual cooperation. Contains: frankincense, lilac, lemon, rose absolute, vervain, lavender, and orris.
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Petal pink jelly that shifts to spring green and explodes with holographic micro glitter.
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Silken indigo musk, tatami straw, black tea, golden amber, yuzu peel, and black plum.
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An oil to infuse your spoken and written voice with additional charm, clarity, and power. This has been crafted to aid in smooth communication, gentle persuasion, and artful expression. It sweetens speech, dissolves tension, bridges divides, and assists in navigating delicate and complex conversations and ideas. Useful for difficult talks, creative work, speechwriting, and negotiations. Contains: black styrax, Oman frankincense, lavender, bronze fennel, lemongrass, celery seed, mastic, and honey absolute.
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Torch-a, torch-a, torch me! Those who cross the threshold of this crackle-crust of burned sugar will be lost in a creamy abyss of bright, zingy custard.
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Icelandic A cool breeze over flushed skin: cloudberries, ambergris, and lemon zest gliding over warm amber musk.
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Vanilla sandalwood, chrysanthemum, and lemon peel.
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Mandarin A strawberry stain on scarlet silk: strawberry nectar and translucent lychee folded into rock sugar and creamy sandalwood.
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Blushing ruby chocolate swirling with vanilla, spices, and the dark, silky sweetness of Snake Oil.
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Strawberry Moon: Wild Strawberries and Inky Musk
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Duets & Menage A Trois
Wild Strawberries and Inky Musk. -
Bittersweet dark chocolate and roasted coffee bean tangled with flaky pastry and creamy, lightly sweetened cheese filling.
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Black Honey and Opium Poppy.
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The Lovers suspended beneath hostile stars; innocent, youthful love caught in profound celestial tension. Two households, both alike in dignity, are bound by ancient grievance, and beneath their banners walk two young hearts caught in the inexorable turning of the spheres. “A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life whose misadventured piteous overthrows,” and the heavens themselves draw down to witness and grieve the dazzling catastrophe of first love. Their passion is as swift as lightning, tender as dawn, perilous as prophecy. They move as mirrored flame, twin spirits divided by inherited hatred, Gemini energy refracted through vendetta and family saga. In one another they glimpse completion, a reflection unmarred by the violence of the world beyond the balcony that hems them in. The polarity that surrounds them only sharpens their longing. Night and day, Montague and Capulet, poison and potion, oath and silence: each intrinsic, fated duality entwines them closer together. The “black-brow’d night” shelters their whispered promises and heart-rending declarations of love, wrapping them in a darkness that protects and consecrates, while the “garish sun” exposes, divides, and drives them back into the machinery of blood feud and overweening pride. In this reversal, shadow is mercy and daylight is threat, and their passion flourishes in secrecy as though it were a nocturnal bloom opening only when the world’s vigilance sleeps. Night gathers them into momentary wholeness, but the harsh light of dawn demands polarity. Their struggle is not only against their families but against time itself, against the relentless return of morning that tears them from the refuge of darkness and thrusts them toward consequence. Their love is not permitted to grow and thrive, and instead it burns brief, bright, and absolute with the shattering, pure conflagration of a supernova. In the long, shadowed sleep of death they accomplish what life denied them, and the warring houses, confronted by the cost of enmity, lay down their arms. Love as transmutation, sorrow as reconciliation, and what was divided is brought, through tragedy, into uneasy harmony. This is the Lovers as one soul divided, as the soul split and reunited through fate and consequence, union under celestial tension, and devotion that outlives breath and fundamentally alters the world that sought to forbid it. Crushed red rose and night-blooming jasmine unfurl over Verona stone warmed by summer dusk, sugared violets and bitter orange peel steeped in pale cypress smoke, with a single thread of myrrh rising like a whispered vow in the dark.
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Honey Buttercream Cupcake.
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Spring Wildflower Honey, Grass, and New Mown Hay Atmosphere Spray
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Atmosphere
Spring Wildflower Honey, Grass, and New Mown Hay. -
Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech? The aggrieved and the injured say, “Beauty is kind and gentle. Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us.” And the passionate say, “Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread. Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us.” The tired and the weary say, “Beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit. Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow.” But the restless say, “We have heard her shouting among the mountains, And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions.” At night the watchmen of the city say, “Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east.” And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, “We have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset.” In winter say the snow-bound, “She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills.” And in the summer heat the reapers say, “We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.” All these things have you said of beauty, Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied, And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy. It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth, But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted. It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear, But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears. It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw, But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight. People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face. But you are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. But you are eternity and you are the mirror. You are life and you are the veil; a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted: saffron-threaded sandalwood, white ambrette, wild narcissus, smoky yellow tobacco flower, and gilded vanilla.