Dead Words on a Dead FrequencyAdd to cart
“You’re dead, Mad Sweeney,” said Shadow. “You take what you’re given when you’re dead.”
“Aye, that I shall,” sighed the dead man sitting in the back of the hearse. The junkie whine had vanished from his voice now, replaced with a resigned flatness, as if the words were being broadcast from a long, long way away, dead words being sent out on a dead frequency.
Tinny eucalyptus and elemi against a flat black backdrop of opoponax.
Loup GarouSelect Options
The wild, untamed essence of lycanthropy. Primeval in its raw power and insatiable hunger: juniper, cypress and galangal with the barest touch of eucalyptus.
VoltAdd to cart
A living electrical battery, Volt plays the wiseass clown for his teammates, using humor to mask his awkwardness and his need for acceptance.
Leather with a shock of eucalyptus, green mint, elemi, ravintsara and lime.
We shall swim out to that brooding reef in the sea and dive down through black abysses to Cyclopean and many-columned Y’ha-nthlei, and in that lair of the Deep Ones we shall dwell amidst wonder and glory for ever.
A great undersea metropolis located below Devil’s Reef. A swirling, lightless, effervescent scent: the deepest marine notes with bergamot, eucalyptus and foamy ambergris.