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doomsday_disco

Persephone's Ascent

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A glorious blend honoring the benevolence of spring: Sandalwood-Infused Vanilla, Vines of Pale Spring Blossoms, Honeysuckle Nectar, and Sweet Cream.

Edited by doomsday_disco

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Okay this maiden has just touched down from her flight, so we'll see how she fairs many a Spring to come, but, oof her entrance...or en-trance...

 

Poinsettia Gown took off her hot, stuffy, red taffeta, to reveal a sylvan dress that moves like the air, shimmers in white and pale gold, bedewed in moonlight, her skin turning luminous on contact with that olde orb's gentle beams. This is a wild and free, springtime, Elfen Gown. I don't find it as strong on the cream as PG, I suppose her preferred moisturizer in Spring is dew captured in elfcups mixed with cream elixir. Nothing too tangy either, like in some milk notes. The sandalwood is not heavy or sharp, not even too dry, bairly a whisper of it with the vanilla smoothing it and the other notes out. I do not find the vines too green or forward either, more hidden and shy, letting the blooms fluorish and take in the night. This is a different honeysuckle than I'm used to. Less headshop incense/frag oil, more fresh, sweet, and with more depth. Alhough I have yet to find a hyperrealistic honeysuckle, I do like this more than most other honeysuckle blends. The florals read white, nocturnal, and glimmery with a bit of powder, so it still has that elegance of PG. Some might find it too powdery, but I love it's use here.

 

Oh Poinsettia, she's 

running with the wolves tonite

she's

treading the trail of elves, barefeet, let her hair down like the mist across the pond

Through sweet blooms and soft-shimmered woods, she besmittens all forest creatures with her joy and fairy abandon. :wub2:

 

TL;DR: Spring Poinsettia Gown, dewy white floral vanilla cream w/ lite green & woods

Edited by RoseThornAndOak

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A Persephone-inspired composition, minus the pomegranate! How incredibly marvelous, I love it already. Instead, a pale floral incense with a core of bleak woods. The release of a bitter, burning, frozen heart. A bleeding fist breaking violently through the earth, clutching a soft bouquet of pallid blooms. A blackbird's shadow in the snow. A weeping spider biting through its tears. A spill of grief transmuted through the incubation of dreams. An exhalation of fading winter memories. A weary spirit in two halves, the beauty of how in escape you kept both.   A wrist ringed with the ghost of spring blossoms you'll never smell. All the springs before you yet.

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