doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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A toasted slice from the middle of a springy, oaty loaf blessed with a rich green schmear and sprinkled with lemon juice and lavender sea salt.
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Crimson silk, burnished gold, cavernous oud, spilled ink on yellowed vellum, bone dust, myrrh smoke, and scythe iron. Juan de Valdés Leal
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Crimson and ash-green velvet, leatherbound books, a scattering of ink-dribbled papers, beeswax, dried flowers, faded pipe smoke, mahogany, and oak suffused with warm beams of golden amber and dusted with pale sandalwood. Nelson Shanks
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Cinnamon, nutmeg, Austrian chocolate, and black musk.
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Icicle-laden birch branches and clove bud.
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Beaver Moon: Blackberry and Tobacco Absolute
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Duets & Menage A Trois
Blackberry and Tobacco Absolute. -
Memories of my lifetime in Los Angeles are entwined with California poppies and lupine. In late winter, the hills near my home would be covered with swaths of orange and lilac—of sunbeams and the shadowed colors of dusk. Then in spring it would all die away as quickly as it appeared. When I first moved to Philadelphia, I brought a ton of seeds with me so I could start a small California garden and bring a little of my state’s magic with me. King mandarin, orange, coconut, lilac blossoms, lavender tar, and amber musk.
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Scarlet silk, peonies, pink rose petals, neroli, woodmoss, clove bud, carnation cream, and skin musk. Carolus-Duran
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Black Clove and Wildflower Honey.
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A sparkling absinthe martini swirled with a glow stick and overflowing with cascades of dry ice fog.
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Pomegranate Milk.
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Red musk, red pepper, and honeycomb.
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White lace, blackcurrant, and tea roses. “She went on to make her petition, and it was in the tone of a person from whom such a request amounted to conferring, rather than seeking a favor. This was only in manner, and, as it seemed, quite unconsciously. Than the terms in which it was expressed, nothing could be more deprecatory. It was simply that I would consent to take charge of her daughter during her absence. “This was, all things considered, a strange, not to say, an audacious request. She in some sort disarmed me, by stating and admitting everything that could be urged against it, and throwing herself entirely upon my chivalry. At the same moment, by a fatality that seems to have predetermined all that happened, my poor child came to my side, and, in an undertone, besought me to invite her new friend, Millarca, to pay us a visit. She had just been sounding her, and thought, if her mamma would allow her, she would like it extremely. “At another time I should have told her to wait a little, until, at least, we knew who they were. But I had not a moment to think in. The two ladies assailed me together, and I must confess the refined and beautiful face of the young lady, about which there was something extremely engaging, as well as the elegance and fire of high birth, determined me; and, quite overpowered, I submitted, and undertook, too easily, the care of the young lady, whom her mother called Millarca.”
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A sugar-crusted vanilla peppermint stick!
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Sandalwood & White Plum.
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This is a very realistic lipstick scent. It has the waxy, creamy texture of old lipstick as well as the floral component (I think it's orris?) nailed down, with just a hint of clove to goth it up. While it's too realistic to be wearable for me, I'm in awe of Beth's artistry.
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Among the most intelligent inquirers with whom I converse at Brighton was a lady of title. She told me that she was one of those present at the Davenport séance, held at the residence of Sir Hesketh Fleetwood. She was seated in the dark séance by the side of a gentleman whose previous scepticism, he confessed to her, was fast disappearing in the face of the facts they were witnessing, when a light was suddenly struck, and both of them distinctly saw the form of Ira Davenport glide close past them. This incident very much disturbed the confidence of Lady L—, and entirely satisfied the sceptic that imposition was practiced, and he left the room a confirmed unbeliever. I told Lady L—that, on his return to London, Mr. Ferguson spoke to me of this very fact, as one of the most curious that had yet occurred at any of the séances. He was holding, he said, the box of matches, as he usually does, when the box was snatched from his hand, and a light was struck by the invisible operator, and during the momentary ignition of the match he plainly saw a form, apparently of a human figure. He said nothing at the moment, but whispering the fact to Mr. Fay, he confirmed it, and afterwards several of those present admitted that that, too, had seen it. Mr. Ferguson, however, was not aware that anyone present supposed it to be the actual person of Ira Davenport, as no observation to that effect was made, and as Ira Davenport was seen instantly afterwards when the light was restored, fast bound to his chair, it was simply impossible that the suspicions of Lady L—or her friend could have been well founded. But, admitting that two competent witnesses did actually see the form of Ira Davenport on that occasion, it is corroborative of a very important and interesting fact, and distinct phase of these puzzling mysteries of spiritual appearances – viz., the duplication of individual form. Mr. Ferguson, who did not on that occasion recognize the resemblance to Ira Davenport, nevertheless has, as he solemnly asserts, seen at other times, when alone with them, the entire duplicated form of Ira Davenport, and a part of Mr. Fay ; and in my first conversation with the Davenport Brothers they told me, among other curious facts of their extraordinary history, that persons had said they had met one or other of them in places where they had not been. On one occasion their father went to a neighbouring shop to order some fruit, when he was told by the shopkeeper that his son Ira had just been there, and had ordered the fruit. It was, however, satisfactorily proved that Ira had not left the house, and that the man must have seen his “wraith,” or “double.” The Spiritualist, December 19, 1873 The uncanny echo of your second self: a shadow-blackened fougere steeped in an uncanny, discomfiting lavender tar.
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Black cherry and smoked plum resins, saffron and sweet labdanum, sensual tuberose, blackened patchouli, myrrh smoke, crimson iris, and scarlet musk. Franz Von Stuck
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Fear and fascination: blackened vetiver, amber smoke, clove, and oudh. …It was a sooty-black animal that resembled a monstrous cat. It appeared to me about four or five feet long for it measured fully the length of the hearthrug as it passed over it; and it continued to-ing and fro-ing with the lithe, sinister restlessness of a beast in a cage. I could not cry out, although as you may suppose, I was terrified.
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Strawberry-chunked prosecco.
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White sandalwood, orris root, ambergris, vetiver root, cardamom, white cedar, and black pepper. Andrew Wyeth
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No reviews yet!? Time to remedy that! This features an incense-y dragon's blood (not the spicy floral variety that's wonky on me) with lots of lavender and hops. I think it is relaxing. I slather this before bed sometimes and forgot there was fir in this -- I haven't noticed it, but next time I slather it, I'll have to see if I can pick it out. I decided to risk a bottle of this when the 2024 Dragoncon exclusives were up on the website, and I'm so glad I did! It's one of my favorite Con exclusives from the past few years. I may have to try to track down a back-up bottle!
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Whatever your preferred term for this eye-catching bodega snack, its iconic design undeniably lingers in the backdrop of core New York memories. A simple, jumbo-sized treat, it unifies by transcending differences to mostly taste all like one thing!
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On me, this is mostly a lightly chocolate-glazed cookie (because only half of the cookie is glazed in chocolate and it's not as strong as if it were like, dipped in straight-up chocolate) with an almondy note in the sugar cookie base. I like it, but I don't need more than my decant.
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This is a light peach scent on me, backed by some coconut milk. Despite this having sticky rice in the name, the rice component is pretty fleeting on me.