Dark Alice
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Posts posted by Dark Alice
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I smell like Banana runts...all day, every day. No citrus, just sugary banana. So glad I sold this bottle.
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“…Our kind of people, we are…” He waved the cigarillo about, as if using it to hunt for a word, then stabbing forward with it. “…exclusive. We’re not social. Not even me. Not even Bacchus. Not for long. We walk by ourselves or we stay in our own little groups. We do not play well with others. We like to be adored and respected and worshiped—me, I like them to be tellin’ tales about me, tales showing my cleverness. It’s a fault, I know, but it’s the way I am. We like to be big. Now, in these shabby days, we are small. The new gods rise and fall and rise again. But this is not a country that tolerates gods for long. Brahma creates, Vishnu preserves, Shiva destroys, and the ground is clear for Brahma to create once more.”
Memories of myrrh and gold, and the dying smoke of a snuffed cigarillo.
This myrrh is smooth. Absolutely smooth and light. The smoke is mild and it smells a little bit like a melon Cigarillo. I love it. I can't wait to wear it! -
There was a girl. He had met her somewhere, and now they were walking across a bridge. It spanned a small lake, in the middle of a town. The wind was ruffling the surface of the lake, making waves tipped with whitecaps, which seemed to Shadow to be tiny hands reaching for him.
- Down there, said the woman. She was wearing a leopard-print skirt, which flapped and tossed in the wind, and the flesh between the top of her stockings and her skirt was creamy and soft and in his dream, on the bridge, before God and the world, Shadow went down to his knees in front of her, burying his head in her crotch, drinking in the intoxicating jungle female scent of her. He became aware, in his dream, of his erection in real life, a rigid, pounding, monstrous thing as painful in its hardness as the erections he'd had as a boy, when he was crashing into puberty.
He pulled away and looked upward, and still he could not see her face. But his mouth was seeking hers and her lips were soft against his, and his hands were cupping her breasts, and then they were running across the satin smoothness of her skin, pushing into and parting the furs that hid her waist, sliding into the wonderful cleft of her, which warmed and wetted and parted for him, opening to his hand like a flower.
The woman purred against him ecstatically, her hand moving down to the hardness of him and squeezing it. He pushed the bedsheets away and rolled on top of her, his hand parting her thighs, her hand guiding him between her legs, where one thrust, one magical push . . .
Now he was back in his old prison cell with her, and he was kissing her deeply. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, clamped her legs about his legs to hold him tight, so he could not pull out, not even if he wanted to.
Never had he kissed lips so soft. He had not known that there were lips so soft in the whole world. Her tongue, though, was sandpaper-rough as it slipped against his.
-Who are you? he asked.
She made no answer, just pushed him onto his back and, in one lithe movement, straddled him and began to ride him. No, not to ride him: to insinuate herself against him in series of silken-smooth waves, each more powerful than the one before, strokes and beats and rhythms that crashed against his mind and his body just as the wind-waves on the lake splashed against the shore. Her nails were needle-sharp and they pierced his sides, raking them, but he felt no pain, only pleasure, everything was transmuted by some alchemy into moments of utter pleasure.
He struggled to find himself, struggled to talk, his head now filled with sand dunes and desert winds.
-Who are you? he asked again, gasping for the words.
She stared at him with eyes the color of dark amber, then lowered her mouth to his and kissed him with a passion, kissed him so completely and so deeply that there, on the bridge over the lake, in his prison cell, in the bed in the Cairo funeral home, he almost came. He rode the sensation like a kite riding a hurricane, willing it not to crest, not to explode, wanting it never to end.
A desert wind alight with myrrh and golden amber, cardamom and honey, bourbon vanilla and cacao.
Wet: Cardamom blended with honey. Dry: hints of honey with gentle billows of cardamom. I am waiting for this to settle more so that the cacao comes out more. But so far, it's my first honey scent that I can wear with out it going stinky on me. In short, I love.
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This scent is gorgeous. Lush warm brown musk, with a touch of something resinous with a hint of smoke. I LOVE IT.
It's amazing! -
The smells like a honey old fashioned. I love it!
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This is what I wanted Coin trick to smell like..and I like coin trick. Shadow smells of gorgeous amber, grey oude with the barest hint of metal. Coin metal. I love it. So glad I have a full bottle coming...
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This by far is my favorite of the AG scents. Sweet woodsmoke, laudunum, and something else. It's just gorgeous from wet to drydown.
Must order a bottle soon. -
Fancy upscale perfume. Hints of gold, silver, metal. It's definitely more masculine, but once it dries it smells like a coin trick of sorts. I like it.
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This smells like one of my perfume boxes. Musky, light florals, aquatics with a pretty light vanilla. I LOVE IT!
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FIZZ! The champagne note in this gives this metal buzzer its joy! It smells like a joy buzzer in my mind!
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The augurs brought forward the victims for him to make his final sacrifice before his entry into the Senate Room. It was manifest that the omens were unfavourable. The augurs substituted one animal after another in the attempt to secure a more auspicious forecast. Finally they said that the indications from the gods where unfavourable and that there was plainly some sort of curse hiding in the victims. In disgust, Caesar turned away toward the setting sun, and the augurs interpreted this action still more unfavourably. The assassins were on hand and were pleased at all this.
Nicolaus of Damascus
Darkness falling, shadows cast by prophesies unheeded: black oudh and amber.
Wet: The amber and oude are separate entities. Strong, and very much there. Dry: Unlike our current political climate and poor Caesar, they come to an agreement and blend beautifully. Dry it's ambery oude, dark and slightly seductive. This bottle is worth keeping. -
Snake skin=Snake Oil and Western Diamondback had sex and created a gorgeous new species of snake: Snake skin. It's sex in a bottle. Snake oil with the leather from WD. Pure perfection. My second snake oil blend that I love. I foresee two more bottles at least. It's that dang good.
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Outside of the iris, this is perfect. Oude and steel, with a hint of Frankincense makes this perfect. Iris just stands out on the corner smelling lonely and funky. I will keep this bottle for what it represents, but I don't think I will be wearing it too often.
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This black leather. Black whip leather. It purrs wit the myrrh. It's clean, sensuous, and perfect. This is needs to be added to my arsenal of war scents. I need another bottle of this b/c its just that damn sexy and fierce.
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THis smells like Rigley's spearmint gum on me. How weird.
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I smell like popcorn. Gingery, slightly bloodied and salt popcorn. How interesting.
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Cold, Dark, and empty, like space I imagine. That's exactly what it smells like. I like it. Not enough for a bottle. But enough to keep my decant.
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This is a lot prettier than I expected. I like the gold aspect much more than I thought I would. This is actually wearable. Even with the pink pepper and patchouli. Color me impressed.
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The pepper is strong here as is the sweet vetiver. It's pretty, but not for me.
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Wet: As carnation normally does...it goes to spicy, sweet cinnamon floral on my skin with hints of vanilla.
Dry: Cinnamon, spicy sweet freesia. It's lovely, but not for me.
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This is lovely. Minty/spearmint water dirt. The grass note kind of catches you in teh back of the throat but it's nice. I need a partial.
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Wet: I almost didn't try it. The coal dust choked me up a bit. Dry: coal covered leather chair. I get no other notes. No blood orange, no crimson musk....I am so glad I got a decant instead of a bottle. This is off to a new home!
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This one worked on me! I amp the hell out of pine, but b/c it's my birthday moon I had to try it! The pine is mellow, and the poppy and all the other notes blend into this gorgeous, almost mild fruit like floral on me. I love it! Finally a Birthday moon that works!!!
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The imp has had a chance to settle so I am rereviewing it.
The tea leaf makes this scent ashy. There is an ashy, grey musk, orris note. It's unpleasant and I am ready to wash this off. I am sad, I had such high hopes for this one.
The Small Brown Cat
in American Gods
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Cardamom infused bourbon vanilla and cedarwood! It's AMAZING!!! This is better on me than Bast. I see a bottle in my future.