Gaiman! Pratchett! Long Night Moon!

[kebechet]

Praise to the Neil! Praise to the Terry! We are thrilled to present five new Good Omens scents, and two new Stardust scents!

 

++ GOOD OMENS

FAMINE

It was not surprising that she had recognized him, for his dark grey eyes stared out from his photo on the foil-embossed cover. Foodless Dieting: Slim Yourself Beautiful, the book was called; The Diet Book of the Century!

 

Sleek black tea, tobacco leaf, frankincense, lilac, and white musk.

 

 

MADAME TRACY

Newt had been amazed to find that Madam Tracy was a middle-aged, motherly soul, whose gentleman callers called as much for a cup of tea and a nice chat as for what little discipline she was still able to exact.

 

A coquettish blend of tea rose, ume blossom, geranium, lily of the valley, violet, and heliotrope.

 

 

POLLUTION

"Excuse me," barked Tyler. "Is that your crisp packet?"

 

"Oh, it's not just mine," said the boy. "It's everybody's."

 

R.P. Tyler drew himself up to his full height. "Young man,' he said, "how would you feel if I came over to your house and dropped litter everywhere?"

 

Pollution smiled, wistfully. 'Very, very pleased,' he breathed.

 

"Oh, that would be wonderful."

 

Beneath his bike an oil slick puddled a rainbow on the wet road.

 

A toxic chypre: radioactive green musk, davana, and oozing white amber.

 

 

 

It wasn’t a dark and stormy night,

 

It should have been, but that’s the weather for you. For every mad scientist who’s had a convienient thunderstorm just on the night his Great Work is finished and lying on the slab, there have been dozens who’ve sat around aimlessly under the peaceful stars while Igor racks up the overtime.

 

But don’t let the fog (with rain later, temperatures dropping to around forty-five degrees) give anyone a false sense of security. Just because it’s a mild night doesn’t mean that dark forces aren’t abroad. They’re abroad all the time. They’re everywhere.

 

They always are. That’s the whole point.

 

Two of them lurked in a ruined graveyard. Two shadowy figures, one hunched and squat, the other lean and menacing, both of them Olympic-grade lurkers. If Bruce Springsteen had ever recorded “Born to Lurk,” these two would have been on the album cover. They had been lurking in the fog for over an hour now, but they had been pacing themselves and could lurk for the rest of the night if necessary, with still enough sullen menace left for a final burst of lurking around dawn.

 

Finally, after another twenty minutes, one of them said: “Bugger this for a lark. He should have been here hours ago.”

 

The speaker’s name was Hastur. He was a Duke of Hell.

 

 

HASTUR

Smoky-sour labdanum, black patchouli, wet tobacco, and brimstone.

 

 

“What’s this Crowley like?” said Ligur.

 

Hastur spat. “He’s been up here too long,” he said. “Right from the Start. Gone native, if you ask me. Drives a car with a telephone in it.”

 

Ligur pondered this. Like most demons, he had a very limited grasp of technology, and so he was just about to say something like, I bet it needs a lot of wire, when the Bentley rolled to a halt at the cemetery gate.

 

 

LIGUR

Dry olibanum, black moss, soggy ti, khus, and opoponax.

 

 

++ STARDUST

FAIRY WINE

Mr. Bromios had set up a wine-tent and was selling wines and pasties to the village folk, who were often tempted by the foods being sold by the folk from Beyond the Wall but had been told by their grandparents, who had got it from their grandparents, that it was deeply, utterly wrong to eat fairy food, to drink fairy water and sip fairy wine.

 

An ethereal vintage, steeped with dandelion, honey, and red currants.

 

 

LADY UNA

“Why, you are crying.”

 

She said nothing. Dunstan pulled her toward him, wiping ineffectually at her face with his big hand; and then he leaned into her sobbing face, and, tentatively, uncertain of whether or not he was doing the correct thing given the circumstances, he kissed her, full upon the burning lips.

 

There was a moment of hesitation, and then her mouth opened against his, and her tongue slid into his mouth, and he was, under the strange stars, utterly, irrevocably, lost

 

Honey musk, green tea leaf, blackberry leaf, vanilla bean, and fae spices.

 

 

 

As always, these are not-for-profit scents. The proceeds from the Stardust series benefit the noble Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, and the proceeds from the Good Omens series are split between the CBLDF and the Orangutan Foundation UK.

 

 

The Lunacies and Suspiciendo Despicio blends are live, and will be up until October 27, 2007.

 

 

++ LIMITED EDITION

LONG NIGHT MOON

The nights are at their longest, the sky is at its darkest. The air is still with reflective silence.

 

A bouquet of night-blooming flowers, petals dusted with frost. Cereus, moonflower accord, night phlox, honeysuckle, silver thyme, white mint, and blue musk.

 

 

SAGITTARIUS

Mutable Fire: the essence of striving.

Sage, clove, dandelion, balm of gilead, fig, and chamomile.

 

 

IVANUSHKA

Ivanushka took his little sister, Alenushka, by the hand, and whispered to her, “Since our dear mother and father have died, we have had no joy. Our wicked stepmother beats us every morning and every evening. Our stepsister is cruel, and she laughs as stepmother beats us with switches. Our meals are dry, moldy crusts of bread. May the Lord have mercy on us! Come, little sister, we will set forth together into the great, wide world, for surely there can be nothing worse for us than we have in this house.”

 

They walked and walked through meadows and fields, past sagging, abandoned cottages, and through barren, stony plains. Rain began to fall upon their tiny brows. “Heaven weeps with our hearts”, Little Alenushka sighed. At nightfall, they came to a large, dark forest. Though the forest was frightening, the children were so weary with fear, hunger, and fatigue that they crawled into a hollow tree and fell asleep together.

 

The children’s wicked stepmother was a black-hearted woman, and a witch, to boot. When she discovered that the children had run away, she crept behind them, using her magic for stealth, and watched them as they walked, and watched them as they slept.

 

They awoke as the noon sun beat hot and bright upon the hollow tree. Ivanushka said, “Sister, I am terribly thirsty. I think I hear a brook; please, let us find it!”

 

Laughing to herself, the witch sped to all the brooks in the forest, ensorcelling them.

 

The children came across the first brook, and Brother Ivanushka rushed towards it. Alenushka, though, heard the voice of the water as it skipped over the slippery stones:

 

Whoever drinks of me will be a tiger.

 

Alenushka cried, “Oh Brother, please, please do not drink, or you will become a wild beast and will tear me to pieces!”

 

Ivanushka ignored his thirst, and did not drink. “Sister, I will wait,” he said, and the children continued through the forest.

 

When they came across the next brook, Alenushka heard it whisper:

 

Whoever drinks of me will be a wolf.

 

“Dear Brother!” she cried. “Please do not drink from this brook, or you will transform into a wolf, and you will eat me!” Ivanushka did not drink, but he was truly suffering.

 

“Sister, I will wait.”

 

When they came to the third brook, he could take the pain no longer, and he rushed forward, plunging his hands into the water even as his sister wailed, “Oh Brother! This brook speaks as well! You will become a roebuck, and you will run away from me!” But Ivanushka could not resist, and as soon as the first droplets of water touched his lips, he became a deer.

 

Alenushka wept, and collapsed to the ground. In his heart, the roe wept with her. The roe moved slowly and sorrowfully closer to his sister. Alenushka dried her tears and whispered, “Dear Brother, I will never, ever leave you. This, I promise.”

 

She untied her golden garters and put them around the deer’s neck. She plucked pliable rushes and wove them into a simple cord. She tied the cord to the garters, and led her brother deeper into the forest.

 

They walked on and on, for hours and hours, deeper and deeper into the forest. At last, they came to a small cottage. Alenushka peeked into one of the windows, and the cottage seemed be empty. She thought to herself, “We can stay here together; we will live here.”

 

Every morning she gathered berries to eat, and brought grasses for her brother. Ivanushka’s voice whispered to her heart, and she found that though he had changed to a deer, her brother still retained a boy’s voice. They walked together through the forest, and played what games they could. At night, she said her prayers, and laid her head upon the roebuck’s back as she drifted off to sleep.

 

One day, hunting horns sounded in the distance. The howl and bark of dogs and the raucous shouts of the huntsmen echoed through the forest, and the siblings knew that the King’s Great Hunt had begun.

 

“Please, Sister! Let me be off to the Hunt!” the roebuck cried. She hesitated, worried for his safety. “Sister, I am wild, and this is now my nature. Please, I cannot bear it. Let me run with the hunt! I am fleet of foot, and I am young; I will outrun them!” He begged and pleaded, and her resolve crumbled. She agreed, but said, “Come back to me in the evening. I must shut the door to the cottage, as I fear the rough huntsmen. So when you return to me, you must knock and say, ‘My Little Sister, let me in!’ I will then know it is you. If you do not say this, I will not open the door.”

 

The little deer kissed his sister’s hand, and leapt merrily into the forest.

 

The King and his huntsmen saw the graceful roebuck with the golden collar and started after him, but he was swift and spry, and they could not catch their prey. When it was dark, the roebuck sped to the cottage. He knocked upon the door with his hoof and said, “My Little Sister, let me in!” Alenushka opened the door, and her brother leapt into the tiny house. They whispered and sang until they both grew tired, and slept the night through on the soft bed of grass.

 

The next day, the Hunt began anew. When the roebuck heard the trumpets and bugles in the distance, his blood stirred. “Sister, please let me out! It is time, and I must run!” She opened the door for him and said, “Remember: you must come back to me in the evening, knock, and say the password.”

 

When the King and his men saw the roebuck again, they gave chase. The creature was so swift and nimble that the chase ran on the whole day. At twilight, one of the hunter’s arrows found the roe’s foot. The roe was forced to slow his run, and as he limped back to the cottage, one of the hunters tracked him. As the hunter hid behind the large and shadowy trees, he heard the roe knock on the cottage door and he heard the roe whisper, “My Little Sister, let me in.” The hunter saw a flash of pale skin and gleaming russet hair as Alenushka opened the door for her injured brother.

 

The huntsman raced back to his King, and told him all that he had seen and heard. Intrigued, the King said, “Tomorrow, friends, we will hunt once more.”

 

Alenushka was terrified when she saw that her brother was hurt. She cleaned his wound, and washed the blood from his fur. She laid herbs on his foot, and bound it with fresh cloth. The wound was so slight that, after a night of rest and with the aid of his sister’s gentle ministrations, he did not feel the injury at all. When he heard the calls of the huntsmen and the howl of the dogs, his blood stirred again, and he said, “I must run, Little Sister! Let me out!”

 

“I shall not!” Alenushka cried. “You are injured, and they will catch you. They will catch and kill you, and I will be alone in the forest. I will not let you out.”

 

“Sister, I am wild. This is now my nature. If you do not set me free, I will perish from grief.”

 

Alenushka had no choice, so she opened the door with a heavy heart. “I am weak with fear for you, Brother.”

 

“You have nothing to fear, Little Sister. I am fleet of foot, and I am young; I will outrun them!”

 

With that, he bounded joyfully into the forest.

 

Soon, the King spotted the roebuck with the golden collar. He said to his men, “Chase him all day long; he will tire. But take care, and none of you shall do him any harm. We will track the beast.”

 

At twilight, the King said to his men, “The roe is still giving chase. Now you will show me the cottage in the woods.” The King crept to the door, knocked, and whispered, “Dearest Little Sister, let me in.” The door opened, and the King entered the tiny house. Before him stood a young maiden, the loveliest he had ever seen. Her ivory skin shone like moonlight, and her auburn hair hung in long, thick waves around a perfect, beautiful face made wise by sadness and despair. The maiden was frightened when she saw, not her beloved brother, but a tall and dark-haired man with a golden crown upon his head. But the King’s face was handsome and his eyes were kind, and he said to her, softly, “You have won my heart, fairest of ladies. Will you go with me to my palace and be my wife? I will love you all of my days.”

 

His voice struck her heart, and she said, “Yes, sir, I will. But the little roebuck must come with us. I cannot leave him.”

 

The King took her tiny hand in his, and said, “The deer shall stay with you for as long as you live, and you both shall want nothing.” At that moment, the roe came running into the cottage. He stopped, startled. His sister stroked his fur gently, and looped the cord of rushes through his collar. The three, together, left the tiny cottage in the woods.

 

The King set the maiden upon his horse, and carried her to his castle. A splendid, joyful wedding was held with great pageantry, and courtiers from across the land came to pay their respects to their liege. Alenushka was now Queen, and they lived together in happiness in peace. The roebuck was cared for and cherished, and ran happily through the castle gardens. The King and Queen basked in the joy of true love.

 

The wicked stepmother, whose cruelty had forced the siblings out into the world, believed that Alenushka had been torn to shreds by wild beasts in the forest, and that Ivanushka, as a roebuck, had been slain as a trophy by huntsmen. One day, while the crone was purchasing herbs in the marketplace, she heard that the King had married. She heard tales of the kindness and beauty of the new Queen, and her curiosity was piqued. She traveled to the castle, huddled under the rags of a beggar woman. The Queen was outside the castle giving alms to the poor. Her pale face was lit with joy, and her auburn hair was set aflame by the light of the sun and her golden, bejeweled crown. The wicked stepmother saw that this Queen was the child she had scorned. When she saw the happiness in Alenushka’s eyes, her black heart clenched with poisonous envy. She fled back to her home, seething with hatred.

 

The crone had no peace, and thought of nothing else over the next few days except how to bring the Queen misfortune. Her own wretched daughter, one-eyed and ugly and bent as sin, groused, “A Queen, indeed! That ought to have been my luck. You should have killed those children yourself. You should have slashed them with a knife, or beaten them with a cudgel. Then I would now be Queen.”

 

“Be quiet,” hissed the old woman. She turned to her daughter and cooed, “When the time comes, we shall be ready.”

 

After a time, the Queen gave birth to a beautiful boy. One day, the King went hunting, and the wicked stepmother seized upon the opportunity. The old crone used her magic to take the form of a chamber maid, and went into the room where the Queen lay. She said to the Queen, “Come, my dear, your bath is ready. It will do you good, and will renew your strength. Make haste, or the water shall go cold!”

 

The crone’s daughter was also nearby, and the two of them carried the birth-weak Queen to the bath room. Gently, they lowered her into the bath, then they crept out, and shut the door. Using her magic, the crone set a huge, ferocious fire blazing within the bath room, and the Queen died from suffocation.

 

When this evil deed was done, the witch took her daughter and laid a glamour upon her wretched daughter’s countenance so she would take the shape of the dead Queen. Her magic could not replace her daughter’s missing eye, so she bade her daughter lie down in bed in a way that the King could not see it.

 

In the evening, the King went to the bedchamber to see his wife and infant son. But the crone called out, “My King! Keep the bedcurtains closed. The Queen should not see light yet, and she must have rest.” The King left, and did not see that an imposter lay in his bed.

 

At midnight, while all in the castle slept, the nurse, who was sitting by the Prince’s cradle, saw a ghostly form approach the baby. Shocked, she saw that this phantom was her Queen. The Ghost Queen took the child out of the cradle and held it. She crooned a soft lullaby to the child, and set him back down in his cradle. She tucked a blanket around the infant, and caressed his tiny face. In the corner of the nursery, the roe lay on a bed of velvet. The Ghost Queen stopped and stroked the roe’s fur lovingly, then glided silently through the door.

 

The nurse did not believe her eyes, and thought the shadows within the castle and the lateness of the hour were creating strange fancies.

 

The next morning the nurse, shaken, asked the guards whether anyone had come into the palace during the night, but they answered, "No, we have seen no one."

 

The Ghost Queen visited the nursery many nights in silence. The nurse always saw her, but she did not dare to tell anyone about it, though she feared that she might be losing her mind.

 

Meanwhile, the King tried to visit his Queen every evening, and each time, the crone waved him away. “My King! Keep the bedcurtains closed. The Queen should not see light yet, and she must have rest.” The King left, and still did not see that an imposter lay in his bed.

 

After many days, the Ghost Queen finally spoke to the nurse as she left the Prince’s bedchamber --

 

"How fares my child, how fares my roe?

Twice shall I come, then never more."

 

In terror, the nurse did not answer, but when the Queen had vanished, the nurse could bear it no longer. She ran to the King and told him all she had seen and heard. The King said, "What phantom is this that stalks my son’s bed? Tomorrow night I will watch by the child."

 

In the evening he went into the nursery, and sat hidden in the shadows. At midnight, the Ghost Queen appeared and said –

 

"How fares my child, how fares my roe?

Once more will I come, then never more."

 

The King did not dare to speak to the ghost, but on the next night he returned to the shadows of the Prince’s bedchamber. At midnight, the Ghost Queen returned, and said --

 

"How fares my child, how fares my roe?

This time I come, then never more."

 

The King leapt forward, and stared deep into the ghost’s unearthly eyes. He saw the maiden that he had fallen in love with, and cried, “You can be none other than my beloved Queen!”

 

The ghost whispered, “Yes, my Lord, I am your wife.”

 

The King rose to embrace her, and as the King’s tears fell upon her ghostly form, the Queen was filled with life. Her body became solid, her cheeks flushed with love. Weeping, Alenushka told her husband the tale of her murder. The King and his guard stormed into the Queen’s bedchamber and arrested the witch and her daughter. They were dragged before the judge, and were sentenced. The daughter was taken to the forest, where she was bound and left to be shredded by wild animals. The crone was cast into a fire with stones tied to her throat, and died a terrible death. At the moment of the crone’s demise, the roebuck was transformed back into a young man, and thus the sister and brother lived the rest of their lives, happily ever after.

 

Soft, velvety fur and warm musk, brushed by forest woods and dusted by dry leaves.

 

 

 

At BPTP, the Long Night Moon tee is live:

 

 

The tee will be up until October 27, 2007.

 

 

Because of many factors – not the least of which is the upcoming nuptials – the bulk of what was going to go live at BPTP is on hold for a few weeks. Thank you for understanding!

 

 

I know I’m usually more loquacious than this, but the Z-pack is giving me a bellyache, so I’m off to drool a bit on the couch while I watch everything that’s been building up on my tivo for the past month!

 

By next update, your faithful narrator will be a married woman. Eek!

 

Cheers!