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In the moonlight opposite me were three young women, ladies by their dress and manner. I thought at the time that I must be dreaming when I saw them, they threw no shadow on the floor. They came close to me, and looked at me for some time, and then whispered together. Two were dark, and had high aquiline noses, like the Count, and great dark, piercing eyes, that seemed to be almost red when contrasted with the pale yellow moon. The other was fair, as fair as can be, with great masses of golden hair and eyes like pale sapphires. I seemed somehow to know her face, and to know it in connection with some dreamy fear, but I could not recollect at the moment how or where. All three had brilliant white teeth that shone like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuous lips. There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips. It is not good to note this down, lest some day it should meet Mina's eyes and cause her pain, but it is the truth. They whispered together, and then they all three laughed, such a silvery, musical laugh, but as hard as though the sound never could have come through the softness of human lips. It was like the intolerable, tingling sweetness of waterglasses when played on by a cunning hand. Unquenchable desire, seething lust, malevolent sexuality, and voracious hunger lurking beneath a shimmering veil of unearthly beauty: gleaming skin musk, honey and white amber, plum blossom, osmanthus, sandalwood, calla lily, and a light, sensual blend of Eastern spices. I lay quiet, looking out from under my eyelashes in an agony of delightful anticipation. The fair girl advanced and bent over me till I could feel the movement of her breath upon me. Sweet it was in one sense, honey-sweet, and sent the same tingling through the nerves as her voice, but with a bitter underlying the sweet, a bitter offensiveness, as one smells in blood. I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw perfectly under the lashes. The girl went on her knees, and bent over me, simply gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlight the moisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it lapped the white sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed to fasten on my throat. Then she paused, and I could hear the churning sound of her tongue as it licked her teeth and lips, and I could feel the hot breath on my neck. Then the skin of my throat began to tingle as one's flesh does when the hand that is to tickle it approaches nearer, nearer. I could feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the super sensitive skin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp teeth, just touching and pausing there. I closed my eyes in languorous ecstasy and waited, waited with beating heart. For such a long description I wish I had a more in depth review for this! Right out of the bottle I smell the plum blossom, lily and honey. Once on the skin I get a stronger whiff of the honey and amber but the florals are still dominate. I'm not getting any of the sandalwood or spices, to my nose this is mostly honey/lily/plum. Conclusion- The Brides of Dracula are honey dipped lilys covered in plum flowers with amber resin sprinkles.
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LUCY WESTENRA When Lucy, I call the thing that was before us Lucy because it bore her shape, saw us she drew back with an angry snarl, such as a cat gives when taken unawares, then her eyes ranged over us. Lucy's eyes in form and color, but Lucy's eyes unclean and full of hell fire, instead of the pure, gentle orbs we knew. At that moment the remnant of my love passed into hate and loathing. Had she then to be killed, I could have done it with savage delight. As she looked, her eyes blazed with unholy light, and the face became wreathed with a voluptuous smile. Oh, God, how it made me shudder to see it! With a careless motion, she flung to the ground, callous as a devil, the child that up to now she had clutched strenuously to her breast, growling over it as a dog growls over a bone. The child gave a sharp cry, and lay there moaning. There was a cold-bloodedness in the act which wrung a groan from Arthur. When she advanced to him with outstretched arms and a wanton smile he fell back and hid his face in his hands. She still advanced, however, and with a languorous, voluptuous grace, said, "Come to me, Arthur. Leave these others and come to me. My arms are hungry for you. Come, and we can rest together. Come, my husband, come!" A wanton beauty, corrupt, hypnotic, seductive, and feral: magnolia, iris, Moroccan rose, frankincense, crushed jasmine blossom, blood orange, tobacco flower and white musk. So this is my fourth scent review today...yes I just got my order and I figured I could try on four...both hands and upper arms. All have been gorgeous so far and L.W. is no exception. Wet this was a sharp floral. My skin always amplifies orange and the blood orange in this holds true to form. It gives the floral a really nice citrus bite. As it dries down the orange softened up a bit and the frankincense made itself known which gave this a lovely exotic feel. As far as the flowers go, it's a very nice blend and I am struggling to pick the notes apart. I get a little jasmine and a touch of rose. This scent stays pretty close to my skin but it is one I'd love to have somebody discover close to my skin . This is a very sexy scent.
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WILHELMINA MURRAY With his left hand he held both Mrs. Harker's hands, keeping them away with her arms at full tension. His right hand gripped her by the back of the neck, forcing her face down on his bosom. Her white nightdress was smeared with blood, and a thin stream trickled down the man's bare chest which was shown by his torn-open dress. The attitude of the two had a terrible resemblance to a child forcing a kitten's nose into a saucer of milk to compel it to drink. Tea rose, white sandalwood and a flurry of pale, virginal blossoms, smeared with a smoky, blood-soiled blend of myrrh, hyacinth, Daemonorops resin, dark musk and blackcurrant. Van Helsing, Art, and I moved forward to Mrs. Harker, who by this time had drawn her breath and with it had given a scream so wild, so ear-piercing, so despairing that it seems to me now that it will ring in my ears till my dying day. For a few seconds she lay in her helpless attitude and disarray. Her face was ghastly, with a pallor which was accentuated by the blood which smeared her lips and cheeks and chin. From her throat trickled a thin stream of blood. Her eyes were mad with terror. Then she put before her face her poor crushed hands, which bore on their whiteness the red mark of the Count's terrible grip, and from behind them came a low desolate wail which made the terrible scream seem only the quick expression of an endless grief. Out of all the lovelies from the Order of the Dragon this one intrigued me the most for some reason. In the bottle: Doesn't jump out at you. It's a lovely, faint smell. Even though it isn't listed in the ingredients I want to say I smell my beloved amber. Applied this turns into one of the most incredible scents I've ever smelled. Words that come to mind are thick, smoky, gorgeous resins, golden. In a weird way it brought to mind the Black Moon series, particularly Schwarzer Mond, only this one smells a lot warmer and I'll say it again..."golden". As it dried I started smelling some floral notes, perhaps the tea rose, with a touch of some soft powder yet there is a spice there too. But oddly this doesn't turn into a floral-type blend. It keeps its warmth and glow with it's luscious resins and mmmm there's that flirty blackcurrant! Wow, I really don't have the adequate words to describe just how gorgeous this oil is. It's sexy, dark and warm at the same time, smoky and just plain beautiful. If this oil were a visual: I imagine walking into a room lined with gorgeous and richly colored orange and gold-threaded throw pillows. There is a haziness to the air. An amber incense wand is slowly burning as a Dead Can Dance CD is playing ever so softly in the background. Even though I've never been here I feel at ease so I sit down and the pillows engulf around me. The air is the perfect temperature, the feeling is perfect comfort, the colors are golden orange, the atmosphere is *rich*. I just want to sit like this for hours as I'm completely relaxed. Hope that makes sense
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Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves. Right and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling full upon them and bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautiful range, deep blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks, green and brown where grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of jagged rock and pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the distance, where the snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemed mighty rifts in the mountains, through which, as the sun began to sink, we saw now and again the white gleam of falling water. One of my companions touched my arm as we swept round the base of a hill and opened up the lofty, snow-covered peak of a mountain, which seemed, as we wound on our serpentine way, to be right before us. Mountain air and the scent of crisp snow blanketing the mountain's flora: Scottish fir, beech, cembra and mugho pine, rhododendron, currant, honeysuckle, raspberry leaf, dwarf juniper, sedge, meadow grass, snowdrop, rose bay, lily of the valley, starwort, lichen and mosses. "My friend.--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well tonight. At three tomorrow the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land. -- Your friend, Dracula." Okay, fans of snow moon, snow bunny, and all those slushy-sloshy blends: you got your wish! The Carpathian Mountains defintely open up to me on a bracing wind of sweetened fir, pine, and/or wintergreen. In fact, this reminds me very much of what i remember as the openings of snow moon. Sweet mint ice. As it dries- well, you didn't really expect me to be able to pick out and name all the native flora of the mountains, did you? I hope not, because I'm completely certain that I couldn't do it- everything here is too foreign to my nose and too well-blended, which is probably the point. What I can pick out, once Beth named them: raspberry leaf (there is the slightest touch of bitter berry in here, much like the leaves of a berry plant), green grasses, a hint of juniper, and a bigger hint of ozone. It's slightly medicinal in the way that all pine-y scents feel to my nose, but it's the most wearable pine I've ever come across- very female, very clean. Unfortunately, it's also extremely faint, burning away to the smallest wash of wintergreen in just over an hour. I don't know how I feel about this one, as I normally don't wear anything that even remotely suggests "christmas tree"- but I will say that, if I were forced to wear a BPAL from the ozone-y/snowy scent family, this is the one I'd go for. She's gentle, and untouched by human hands. Very nicely done.
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Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in a hysterical way: "Must you go? Oh! Young Herr, must you go?" She was in such an excited state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew, and mixed it all up with some other language which I did not know at all. I was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I told her that I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important business, she asked again: "Do you know what day it is?" I answered that it was the fourth of May. She shook her head as she said again: "Oh, yes! I know that! I know that, but do you know what day it is?" On my saying that I did not understand, she went on: "It is the eve of St. George's Day. Do you not know that tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?" She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally, she went down on her knees and implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I tried to raise her up, and said, as gravely as I could, that I thanked her, but my duty was imperative, and that I must go. She then rose and dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck offered it to me. I did not know what to do, for, as an English Churchman, I have been taught to regard such things as in some measure idolatrous, and yet it seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady meaning so well and in such a state of mind. She saw, I suppose, the doubt in my face, for she put the rosary round my neck and said, "For your mother's sake," and went out of the room. A respectable gentleman's scent: lavender, iris, white tea, verbena and white sandalwood. First off, let me say first review! Yay! After that being said. In the bottle: Mostly verbena and tea. There are hints of lavender and iris but the verbena and tea over power everything to my nose. The fiancee slaughtered some all over him after a few sniffs. My wrist: Verbena and tea, mostly. The lavender and iris are ducking it out to try to dominate each other. The sandelwood is there but hiding. This has a lot of throw in this stage, the mix wafting about me. I could smell my fiancee half way across the room in this. 5 Minutes later: Tea and Verbena are tempered and the lavender is out in the front as its rightful place. Just wearing this makes me feel posh and cultured, dare I say. 20 minutes later: The verbena and the tea are now fading away but still keeping the clean, crisp feeling. The lavender is calming and the sandelwood is adding a nice smooth depth to it. If there is Iris in here my nose cannot pick it up yet. This blend reminds me a lot of Usher, which as in drydown Usher keeps a very dustiness that feels as though you have been prouncing about crypts. This is Usher's older smoother brother, a blend perfect for just wanting to put more of a sophisicated air then normal. A perfect gender-neutral scent. Another Order of Dragon Scent well done.
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He must, indeed, have been that Voivode Dracula who won his name against the Turk, over the great river on the very frontier of Turkeyland. If it be so, then was he no common man, for in that time, and for centuries after, he was spoken of as the cleverest and the most cunning, as well as the bravest of the sons of the 'land beyond the forest.' That mighty brain and that iron resolution went with him to his grave, and are even now arrayed against us. The Draculas were, says Arminius, a great and noble race, though now and again were scions who were held by their coevals to have had dealings with the Evil One. They learned his secrets in the Scholomance, amongst the mountains over Lake Hermanstadt, where the devil claims the tenth scholar as his due. In the records are such words as 'stregoica' witch, 'ordog' and 'pokol' Satan and hell, and in one manuscript this very Dracula is spoken of as 'wampyr,' which we all understand too well. There have been from the loins of this very one great men and good women, and their graves make sacred the earth where alone this foulness can dwell. For it is not the least of its terrors that this evil thing is rooted deep in all good, in soil barren of holy memories it cannot rest. The essence of nobility, brutality and true Will made flesh and propelled through the eons by an ever-burning hatred: black patchouli, neroli, tonka, cinnamon, bitter clove, leather, black musk, coffin wood and fiery ginger. This is the one and only scent I've purchased from the Order of the Dragon line, I had to try something that had patchouli in it with black musk and leather! Overall impression: On a man I can imagine this a fab scent to wear to a dark, gothy type club. It has a "come hither, little girl" flare with a bit of "If you think you can handle it" type of appeal. It's dark and smug and makes no apologies for it's arrogance and yet still has a touch of softness that perhaps gives you a false sense of security. It makes me want to submit to his smirking, sly self or have me running to the safety of someone not so dangerous. (the more I smell it, the more I like it. Allow ample dry down before heading out and test it's throw! -keep a little on your person to re-amp it as the evening wears down if you want to keep it's sharp side, otherwise it may be too soft for your intentions.) In the bottle: I smell spice. Namely the bitter clove, some of the coffin wood and the ginger. Wet on the skin: Clove and ginger and maybe a bit of that black patchouli. I believe I amp clove. As it dries down the clove fades back a bit, for which I'm thankful. I'm all into clove, but I want my leather and black musk! I can smell a bit of the coffin wood and what I'm assuming is the neroli. (It's a bit light and the tiniest bit floral). I don't slather so this is very close to the skin on dry down but it has plenty of throw when first applied. It dries down to a soft scent with sharp undertones, the dark patchouli wafts up and bites. The clove never really goes away but it doesn't knock me out like it did first applied. It's a very dark and sexy scent, but I'm forever picking scents that are more apt to be masculine than feminine so I'll have to try this on my husband to see how it works for him. I think I'm going to put this up for about a month or so and see how it ages. There is just something in there (Black musk, I'm thinking) that makes me tingle and I'm hoping it'll amp itself up as it ages! Keeper? I believe so, we'll see after aging. (: Buy again? Not sure, we'll see how it is on the monster man of the house.
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R. M, Renfield, age 59. Sanguine temperament, great physical strength, morbidly excitable, periods of gloom, ending in some fixed idea which I cannot make out. I presume that the sanguine temperament itself and the disturbing influence end in a mentally-accomplished finish, a possibly dangerous man, probably dangerous if unselfish. In selfish men caution is as secure an armour for their foes as for themselves. What I think of on this point is, when self is the fixed point the centripetal force is balanced with the centrifugal. When duty, a cause, etc., is the fixed point, the latter force is paramount, and only accident or a series of accidents can balance it. Unhinged: moss, cumin, patchouli, Balsam of Peru, and neroli. First review, here goes! In the bottle, it smells almost sour and mossy. The cumin is quite noticeable. It's very different from the other BPAL I've tried. Wet, it's very mossy and the patchouli starts to come out. It smells very masculine on me, like damp moss growing on the sides of a cellar, quite mysterious, especially with cumin as an unusual note. The sweetness of neroli starts to come out a bit and mingles with the other notes. It's definitely not a floral blend at all though. It does smell unhinged. Amazing! Patchouli lovers will like this, it's not mixed with much sweetness like a lot of other BPAL blends. I'll wait and see what the drydown is like -- not sure I want to keep this one, but it is so very different, and I'm glad for the experience. ETA: There's defnitely a dark undercurrent ( of madness? muhahaha!) to this blend, and now that it's drying it smells more "cologne"-y on me. It almost smells like some vetiver is in this, even though I know there isn't, making it smell a bit similar to Azathoth without the blast of nose wrinkling vetiver. Rich, mysterious, strange and secretive. As it dries completely, there is a lovely sort of slight sweetness to it, probably from the neroli. I can't stop sniffing my arm. Ultimately I'm not sure I would wear this but I'm sure it's perfect for someone out there...
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QUINCEY MORRIS Well, my dear, number Two came after lunch. He is such a nice fellow, an American from Texas, and he looks so young and so fresh that it seems almost impossible that he has been to so many places and has such adventures... I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him. I know now what I would do if I were a man and wanted to make a girl love me. No, I don't, for there was Mr. Morris telling us his stories, and Arthur never told any, and yet... My dear, I am somewhat previous. Mr. Quincy P. Morris found me alone. It seems that a man always does find a girl alone. No, he doesn't, for Arthur tried twice to make a chance, and I helping him all I could, I am not ashamed to say it now. I must tell you beforehand that Mr. Morris doesn't always speak slang, that is to say, he never does so to strangers or before them, for he is really well educated and has exquisite manners, but he found out that it amused me to hear him talk American slang, and whenever I was present, and there was no one to be shocked, he said such funny things. I am afraid, my dear, he has to invent it all, for it fits exactly into whatever else he has to say. But this is a way slang has. I do not know myself if I shall ever speak slang. I do not know if Arthur likes it, as I have never heard him use any as yet. Well, Mr. Morris sat down beside me and looked as happy and jolly as he could, but I could see all the same that he was very nervous. He took my hand in his, and said ever so sweetly... "Miss Lucy, I know I ain't good enough to regulate the fixin's of your little shoes, but I guess if you wait till you find a man that is you will go join them seven young women with the lamps when you quit. Won't you just hitch up alongside of me and let us go down the long road together, driving in double harness?" Rough on the edges, but possessing the true essence of valor and nobility of spirit: tobacco, vanilla, white pear, cedar, rugged musk and saddle leather. This is almost entirely leather on me. New, fresh, supple leather. A touch of sweetness, maybe from the pear?
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Well, my dear, number One came just before lunch. I told you of him, Dr. John Seward, the lunatic asylum man, with the strong jaw and the good forehead. He was very cool outwardly, but was nervous all the same. He had evidently been schooling himself as to all sorts of little things, and remembered them, but he almost managed to sit down on his silk hat, which men don't generally do when they are cool, and then when he wanted to appear at ease he kept playing with a lancet in a way that made me nearly scream. He spoke to me, Mina, very straightforwardly. He told me how dear I was to him, though he had known me so little, and what his life would be with me to help and cheer him. He was going to tell me how unhappy he would be if I did not care for him, but when he saw me cry he said he was a brute and would not add to my present trouble. Then he broke off and asked if I could love him in time, and when I shook my head his hands trembled, and then with some hesitation he asked me if I cared already for any one else. He put it very nicely, saying that he did not want to wring my confidence from me, but only to know, because if a woman's heart was free a man might have hope. And then, Mina, I felt a sort of duty to tell him that there was some one. I only told him that much, and then he stood up, and he looked very strong and very grave as he took both my hands in his and said he hoped I would be happy, and that If I ever wanted a friend I must count him one of my best. Penetrating and gifted, vulnerable, with just a hint of opium-blurred delirium: poppy smoke, champaca flower, tonka, sandalwood, ginger, white pepper. In the bottle, it smells surprisingly softly floral. On, it smells sweet and hazy, and not really floral at all. I can smell the tonka pretty clearly when it's wet, but not as much any more after it's dry. It's definitely smoky, but it's a sweet smoke, and it becomes more floral as it dries. This is the kind of sweetness that I usually associate with fruity notes, though, and I don't know where that's coming from. I wish I could say what that sweetness is, because it sticks around when the oil is dry. (It reminds me a little bit of bubblegum, to be honest.) This is not quite what I expected because it's more feminine than I had imagined it would be. Which is not to say that the right guy couldn't pull it off, of course. I thought the champaca flower would give it more of a nag champa feel like in Two Monsters, but that's not how this scent is working. When it's dry, my overall impression is that it's a sweet softly smoky floral with a little bit of sandalwood and an interesting edge from... is that pepper? (I don't know, usually cedar smells peppery to me, and this doesn't smell like cedar at all.) It really does have a kind of blurry, hazy quality to it, too. I think I'm doing a really sucky job with this review because I'm having a hard time picking out the notes. But I can say that even though this is not what I thought it would be, I do like it.
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At Purfleet, on a byroad, I came across just such a place as seemed to be required, and where was displayed a dilapidated notice that the place was for sale. It was surrounded by a high wall, of ancient structure, built of heavy stones, and has not been repaired for a large number of years. The closed gates are of heavy old oak and iron, all eaten with rust. The estate is called Carfax, no doubt a corruption of the old Quatre Face, as the house is four sided, agreeing with the cardinal points of the compass. It contains in all some twenty acres, quite surrounded by the solid stone wall above mentioned. There are many trees on it, which make it in places gloomy, and there is a deep, dark-looking pond or small lake, evidently fed by some springs, as the water is clear and flows away in a fair-sized stream. The house is very large and of all periods back, I should say, to mediaeval times, for one part is of stone immensely thick, with only a few windows high up and heavily barred with iron. It looks like part of a keep, and is close to an old chapel or church. I could not enter it, as I had not the key of the door leading to it from the house, but I have taken with my Kodak views of it from various points. The house had been added to, but in a very straggling way, and I can only guess at the amount of ground it covers, which must be very great. There are but few houses close at hand, one being a very large house only recently added to and formed into a private lunatic asylum. It is not, however, visible from the grounds. The scent of abandoned places, of desolation and emptiness: heavy woods and thin dusty herbs touched by the wafting incense of a nearby chapel. If I had sniffed this knowing it was part of Order of the Dragon, but not knowing which one it was, I would have bet a significant percentage of my paycheck that this one was The Castle. It has only been on my skin a short while, but I'm already amazed by how accurately this captures my mythical idea of abandoned elegance. Beth tapped into some collective tool box here, for sure. Carfax Abbey is bone suckingly dry, austere, and very dusty. It is NOT, as many would imagine, our token resin-y incense-y blend. In fact, it doesn't have even the slightest resemblance to the church as most of us know it. Sorry, Midnight Mass fans, this is not our halloween stand-in. Instead, I smell... faded iris, a bit of sassafras (or is it a droplet of amber?), perhaps some dusted lilac, the driest white sandalwood, some cedar? The resemblance to dragon's bone is definitely noted, for it is the only other scent I can think of that feels this somber, this studious. There are some dried, faded flowers and herbs in this, for certain, but they don't smell at all like potpourri. They smell much more expensive, much more like the impressions of a bouquet on a back stairwell, in the direct line of the only light source. Floral haters- do NOT be afraid. The floral notes I'm smelling are so light as to be ghosts of their former selves- no accident on Beth's part, I'm sure The throw is minimal, and it only morphs slightly for me into something mildly sweeter- but never, ever anything cheerful or alive. I absolutely love it.
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Blood is too precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace, and the glories of the great races are as a tale that is told. A distillation of force, conquest, power and fury: dragon's blood, myrrh, black pepper, labdanum, benzoin, leather, fire, and steel. NOTE: I'm probably not the best person to review this because my skin tends to amp dragon's blood, which makes it difficult for me to smell the other notes. The dragon's blood in this is pretty strong on my skin at first, but it fades out into a slightly powdery dark scent. I can smell some pepper for sure, and a little bit of leather. Kind of a metallic undertone, but it's barely noticeable. This scent seems more masculine than the other dragon's blood blends I've tried -- it's darker. I like it a lot!
