Jenjin Report post Posted September 16 Whether arising from mischief or malice, the calamities were undeniably linked. Rusted iron, mandrake root, burnt vetiver, and patchouli leaves Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
ghoulnextdoor Report post Posted October 8 What is it about the human heart that loves a place forsaken? In a forgotten corner of an abandoned homestead, weathered tools rest against crumbling walls, their once-gleaming surfaces now a canvas of rust and patina. Shadows pool in the pitted surface of an old axe head while a fallen hammer's handle smooths under an invisible touch. From between warped floorboards, gnarled tendrils reach upward, seekers in a realm of twilight. Their twisted forms, pale and insistent, push through layers of debris. A murky, green scent rises with them, vegetal and searching. It mingles with the musty air, a complex perfume of damp wood, old leather, and the faint memory of smoke. Dust hangs suspended in slanted beams of light; each mote a silent witness to creeping decay and desolation. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
kscha2017 Report post Posted October 31 I'm a patchouli and vetiver fan, finding the scents calming. Yet, I was surprised by how pretty this is, and warm. I detect a sweetness which I think must be the rusty iron. I have fond memories of playing at my grandmother's house as a kid, where there was a rusty railing, near the flowerbeds, warmed by the hot summer sun. Weird nostalgia, but this is it. Warm and sweet, not cold and eerie as I expected. Much love. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
