A Boar and a GoatAdd to cart
18th century Russian lubok, illustrator unknown
Red amber, frankincense C02 absolute, green fig, labdanum, King mandarin, Atlas cedar, and bitter almond.
A SilhouetteOut of Stock
Yellowing parchment and lampblack, a drop of lilac, a smear of labdanum, and a splash of white musk.
Smoldering coals heat the device from below, and steam hisses through two curved pipes, rotating the shining brass sphere.
Glowing amber and citrus, labdanum, verbena, cedar, and oud.
BEING, LIKE, REALLY SMARTAdd to cart
Soothe your cares with a blend of dull, dolorous, soporific lavender, weighed down with opoponax and thick labdanum, spiked by an unpredictable, unsettling slash of black pepper.
Proceeds from the sale of this scent benefits the Southern Poverty Law Center.
But Men Loved Darkness Rather Than LightAdd to cart
The world’s light shines, shine as it will,
The world will love its darkness still.
I doubt though when the world’s in hell,
It will not love its darkness half so well.
The world will love its darkness: cistus labdanum, ginger, East Indian patchouli, pimento berry, oakmoss, saffron, smoky vanilla, sage, myrrh, and bitter clove.
Couple Enjoying a Summer BreezeOut of Stock
White sage and patchouli with Himalayan cedarwood, sweet labdanum, and brown sugar.
Event HorizonSelect Options
A disconcerting scent, heavy and oppressive, through which no light, no matter, and no spirit can escape. Black opium, labdanum, opoponax, black orchid, and benzoin.
ExorcistAdd to cart
Inspired by the character BRIAN LI SUNG.
Christine’s lover who, in the aftermath of her violent death, becomes haunted and possessed by what he sees as the “entity” of Grendel.
A refined lilac fougère with frankincense, labdanum, styrax, and dark musk.
The Basque God of Night and all the perils of the darkness. Though he is the God of the Danger that Lurks in the Gloom, he is kind to men and warns them against the nighttime hazards and sets rules of conduct for both the living and the dead as they travel through his domain. It is said that since the warm, vibrant daylight is for the living, the abodes of night are reserved for the dead. All who heed his counsel are protected, but woe be to any man that disobeys the laws of Gaueko: he is swift to punish those that would scorn his advice. Blackened sandalwood and misty lavender, with curling wisps of smoky tobacco, nag champa, and labdanum.
HarperAdd to cart
Pale bergamot, labdanum, white incense, vanilla-tinged musk, Burmese oudh and tea rose.
HasturAdd to cart
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.
Smoky-sour labdanum, black patchouli, wet tobacco, and brimstone.
In Templum DeiAdd to cart
Oman frankincense, cistus labdanum, white sandalwood, and liquidambar.
Lady Death: SavageAdd to cart
Lady Death in all her savage glory: an unrelenting supernatural warrior witch!
White musk, grey amber, Calabrian bergamot, vanilla absolute, French labdanum, styrax, wormwood, caraway, and bois de jasmin.
Le LèthèSelect Options
Viens sur mon coeur, âme cruelle et sourde,
Tigre adoré, monstre aux airs indolents;
Je veux longtemps plonger mes doigts tremblants
Dans l’épaisseur de ta crinière lourde;
Dans tes jupons remplis de ton parfum
Ensevelir ma tête endolorie,
Et respirer, comme une fleur flétrie,
Le doux relent de mon amour défunt.
Je veux dormir! dormir plutôt que vivre!
Dans un sommeil aussi doux que la mort,
J’étalerai mes baisers sans remords
Sur ton beau corps poli comme le cuivre.
Pour engloutir mes sanglots apaisés
Rien ne me vaut l’abîme de ta couche;
L’oubli puissant habite sur ta bouche,
Et le Léthé coule dans tes baisers.
À mon destin, désormais mon délice,
J’obéirai comme un prédestiné;
Martyr docile, innocent condamné,
Dont la ferveur attise le supplice,
Je sucerai, pour noyer ma rancoeur,
Le népenthès et la bonne ciguë
Aux bouts charmants de cette gorge aiguë
Qui n’a jamais emprisonné de coeur.
– – –
Come, lie upon my breast, cruel, insensitive soul,
Adored tigress, monster with the indolent air;
I want to plunge trembling fingers for a long time
In the thickness of your heavy mane,
To bury my head, full of pain
In your skirts redolent of your perfume,
To inhale, as from a withered flower,
The moldy sweetness of my defunct love.
I wish to sleep! to sleep rather than live!
In a slumber doubtful as death,
I shall remorselessly cover with my kisses
Your lovely body polished like copper.
To bury my subdued sobbing
Nothing equals the abyss of your bed,
Potent oblivion dwells upon your lips
And Lethe flows in your kisses.
My fate, hereafter my delight,
I’ll obey like one predestined;
Docile martyr, innocent man condemned,
Whose fervor aggravates the punishment.
I shall suck, to drown my rancor,
Nepenthe and the good hemlock
From the charming tips of those pointed breasts
That have never guarded a heart.
Red musk and sweat-damp golden skin musk with labdanum, golden amber, nutmeg, tobacco absolute, black orchid, and hemlock accord.
Lithograph of a Mountain GoatAdd to cart
White sandalwood, black pepper, muguet, agarwood, labdanum, and 3-year aged patchouli.
Mary ShelleySelect Options
It was the secrets of heaven and earth that I desired to learn; and whether it was the outward substance of things or the inner spirit of nature and the mysterious soul of man that occupied me, still my inquiries were directed to the metaphysical, or in its highest sense, the physical secrets of the world.
The scent of absinthe, lightning, stormclouds, and laudanum crashing through a veil of soft Victorian oriental perfume.
Matthew 25:34-36Add to cart
Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Enter, you who are blessed by my Father! Take what’s coming to you in this kingdom. It’s been ready for you since the world’s foundation. And here’s why:
I was hungry and you fed me,
I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,
I was homeless and you gave me a room,
I was shivering and you gave me clothes,
I was sick and you stopped to visit,
I was in prison and you came to me.’
Olibanum, labdanum, spikenard, cade, cardamom pod, and olive blossom.
Granddaughter of Helios, Hecate’s chosen: Medea was one of the greatest sorceresses of the ancient world. She is the embodiment of ruthless power, indomitable will and furious vengeance. Night-blooming cereus, black orchid, black currant and myrtle leaf enshrouded in the incense of Hecate’s cypress and myrrh, and the dark rage of magickal labdanum and intoxicating poppy.
MisericordiaAdd to cart
The Misericordia, or Tristis, are vampires that are consumed with a longing to regain their lost humanity, some to the point of being driven mad by the desire to be human once more. The shock of their transition into vampirism and the rejection they faced from friends and loved ones was devastating, and it compromises their ability to find solace and comfort. Unlike the Transeo, Misericordia cannot merge into human society, but are relegated by their own grief to the position of outsiders. Their inherent melancholy and morose temperaments make it difficult for them to cultivate relationships with either humans or vampires. Most vampires treat the Misericordia with a fair amount of derision, and they are sometimes hunted by Interfectors who see the perspective of the Misericordia as an affront to their way of thinking.
Eons of grief and unending hunger: magnolia, black currant, castoreum accord, lavender, labdanum, amber, rose otto, and opoponax.
Monk and ActorOut of Stock
Soft auburn musk, clove bud, honeyed patchouli, oakmoss absolute, cashmere labdanum, cedar, and mimosa blossom.
Moons of Saturn: DioneOut of Stock
Oracle and healer, the Titaness Dione was once one of Zeus’ consorts. Her scent is dove black labdanum shining with opalescent lavender and poplar bud.
Salvation found in darkness beyond darkness, the blessed sleep of nothingness. Dark musk, wood spice, labdanum, patchouli, dark African woods, and saffron.
Proverbs 24:11-12Add to cart
Rescue those who are being taken away to death; hold back those who are stumbling to the slaughter. If you say, “Behold, we did not know this,” does not he who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not he who keeps watch over your soul know it, and will he not repay man according to his work?
Blackened oudh, leather, labdanum, and oakmoss.
Pulcinella & TeresinaAdd to cart
Your eyes are drawn to a gilded miniature stage whose sign reads: “All Praises to the Lord of Misrule!” Upon the platform, a sneering wooden jester waltzes with a hollow-eyed and bleeding wooden maiden, while a wooden devil floats above them.
Labdanum, cedar, teak and red rose.
Queen ButterflyAdd to cart
perfumes her wings
by floating over this orchid
Russet amber and orange blossom honey, red labdanum and wild plum, golden musk and a rustle of patchouli root.
Seven Word Story: GluttonyAdd to cart
The subject of our latest #BPAL7wordstory contest was Gluttony. The winning entry was submitted by Crystal Rose-Thompson:
The Sirens Eagerly Beckoned the Approaching Ship
Sea splash on murky labdanum and gleaming olibanum, veiled in lavender, diaphanous osmanthus, gilded saffron, and honey incense.
Seventh LashAdd to cart
Labdanum and birch tar with leather, orris root, copal, and bergamot.
ShakarriAdd to cart
White pear and absinthe, sea moss and patchouli, labdanum and crushed coral.
SinkholeAdd to cart
We have the best sinkholes. Terrific sinkholes. Our sinkholes are tremendous. YUUUGE. No administration has ever had a sinkhole like this, believe me. Obama didn’t have sinkholes. Sad!
The scent of a swamp self-draining: globs of wet earth, crushed grass, and untended dandelions sliding into a morass of moss-crusted opoponax, labdanum, and tar.
Proceeds from the sale of this scent benefit the American Civil Liberties Union.
Snaky-Hair’d Moirai Many-Form’dAdd to cart
Tobacco-threaded incense smoke, labdanum, red benzoin, and blackened vanilla.
Proceeds from the sale of both of the Hymn to the Erinyes scents benefit RAINN, the United States’ largest anti-sexual violence organization. RAINN operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline, and provides programs to help survivors, prevent sexual violence, and ensure that offenders are brought to justice.
Studie Einer ZiegeAdd to cart
Sweet labdanum with clove, tobacco absolute, and guiac wood.
SuffragiumAdd to cart
When Lilith was three months old, she came with me to the voting booth for the first time. She wore a Little Democrat onesie and a Babies For Obama button, and it was one of the most emotional nights of my life. I know I’ve told this story before, but as the election results rolled in, I wept with relief because Lilith was going to grow up safe. Decency won the day, and my heart was alight with the belief that we were on an upwards trajectory as a nation, and that compassion and hope were leading us to a renewal.
November 8, 2016 was another emotional night for very, very different reasons.
Since that day, the world has gotten darker, but the darkness creates strength and fosters empathy. Lilith is now learning what social justice truly means. She has participated in protests, demonstrations, volunteer campaigns, and walk-outs. She has made protest signs with her own two hands, and has marched against the cruelty, oppression, and tyranny of this current administration. She’s beginning to grasp both civic responsibility and civil disobedience, and she’s learning how much power her voice really has. This is a scent of renewing hope, determination, fortitude, and compassion: palo santo, white sandalwood, sweet labdanum, and cedar.
Temple ViperAdd to cart
Snake Oil with sugar cane, frankincense, champaca, opoponax, labdanum, and hyssop.
Tenth LashAdd to cart
Bitter almond, cacao, black cherry, patchouli, and labdanum.
The Buffalo ManAdd to cart
Darkness; a sensation of falling—as if he were tumbling down a great hole, like Alice. He fell for a hundred years into darkness. Faces passed him, swimming out of the black, then each face was ripped up and away before he could touch it . . .
Abruptly, and without transition, he was not falling. Now he was in a cave, and he was no longer alone. Shadow stared into familiar eyes: huge, liquid black eyes. They blinked.
Under the earth: yes. He remembered this place. The stink of wet cow. Firelight flickered on the wet cave walls, illuminating the buffalo head, the man’s body, skin the color of brick clay.
“Can’t you people leave me be?” asked Shadow. “I just want to sleep.”
The buffalo man nodded, slowly. His lips did not move, but a voice in Shadow’s head said, “Where are you going, Shadow?”
“Where else have I got to go? It’s where Wednesday wants me to go. I drank his mead.” In Shadow’s dream, with the power of dream logic behind it, the obligation seemed unarguable: he drank Wednesday’s mead three times, and sealed the pact—what other choice of action did he have?
The buffalo-headed man reached a hand into the fire, stirring the embers and the broken branches into a blaze. “The storm is coming,” he said. Now there was ash on his hands, and he wiped it onto his hairless chest, leaving soot-black streaks.
“So you people keep telling me. Can I ask you a question?”
There was a pause. A fly settled on the furry forehead. The buffalo man flicked it away. “Ask.”
“Is this true? Are these people really gods? It’s all so . . .” He paused. Then he said, “impossible,” which was not exactly the word he had been going for but seemed to be the best he could do.
“What are gods?” asked the buffalo man.
“I don’t know,” said Shadow.
Warm dark brown musk, woodsmoke, and deep pools of labdanum.
The Cross of SnowAdd to cart
In the long, sleepless watches of the night,
A gentle face — the face of one long dead —
Looks at me from the wall, where round its head
The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light.
Here in this room she died; and soul more white
Never through martyrdom of fire was led
To its repose; nor can in books be read
The legend of a life more benedight.
There is a mountain in the distant West
That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines
Displays a cross of snow upon its side.
Such is the cross I wear upon my breast
These eighteen years, through all the changing scenes
And seasons, changeless since the day she died.
– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Cypress, Spanish moss, and clove bud with labdanum, Italian bergamot, and white tobacco flower.
The Drunkard’s DreamAdd to cart
The drunk in the graveyard raised his bottle to his lips. One of the gravestones flipped over, revealing a grasping corpse; a headstone turned around, flowers replaced by a grinning skull. A wraith appeared on the right of the church, while on the left of the church something with a half-glimpsed, pointed, unsettlingly birdlike face, a pale, Boschian nightmare, glided smoothly from a headstone into the shadows and was gone. Then the church door opened, a priest came out, and the ghosts, haunts, and corpses vanished, and only the priest and the drunk were left alone in the graveyard. The priest looked down at the drunk disdainfully, and backed through the open door, which closed behind him, leaving the drunk on his own.
The clockwork story was deeply unsettling. Much more unsettling, thought Shadow, than clockwork has any right to be.
“You know why I show that to you?” asked Czernobog.
“That is the world as it is. That is the real world. It is there, in that box.”
Red currant and labdanum with opoponax, vetiver, grave moss, white sandalwood, and khus.
The Magician’s RobesOut of Stock
The Red King and White Queen, sulfur and mercury, Rubedo and Albedo. The unification of opposites, putrefaction and individuation, the culmination of the Great Work.
ὁδὸς ἄνω κάτω μία καὶ ὡυτή: red and white musks alight with frankincense, white oudh, sweet labdanum, and saffron. The way up and the way down are one and the same.
The Midnight CarnivalOut of Stock
There were nine wagons, each draped in black, each drawn by a lean black horse, and each baring barred sides like teeth when the wind blew through the black hangings. The lead wagon was driven by a squat old woman, and it bore signs on its shrouded sides that said in big letters: MOMMY FORTUNA’S MIDNIGHT CARNIVAL. And below, in smaller print: Creatures of night, brought to light.
Cruelty and confinement, small magics and penny illusions: galbanum, teak, myrrh, narcissus, patchouli, cacao, labdanum, agarwood, lavender, neroli, and black moss.
The Scales of DeprivationSelect Options
And when he had opened the third seal, I heard the third beast say, Come and see. And I beheld, and lo a black horse; and he that sat on him had a pair of balances in his hand.
Thin, dark, and shadowed. A scent that offers no sustenance, comfort or satiety: lemon peel, white sage, frankincense, lavender fougere, sandalwood, vetiver and labdanum.
And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts say, A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny; and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine.
And when he had opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, Come and see.
The ScapegoatOut of Stock
To save a trump card, sometimes you must make sacrifices: tolu balsam, leather, labdanum, black pepper, and benzoin.
The StrangerOut of Stock
The unknown factor, the outsider entering your town uninvited, unannounced, and unknown: a narcotic black chypre with crushed violets, indigo lilac, patchouli, oakmoss absolute, labdanum, and clove.
Vital FluidAdd to cart
Modern philosophy has admitted a plenum or universal principle of fluid matter, which occupies all space; and that as all bodies moving in the world, abound with pores, this fluid matter introduces itself through the interstices and returns backwards and forwards, flowing through one body by the currents which issue therefrom to another, as in a magnet, which produces that phenomenon which we call Animal Magnetism. This fluid consists of fire, air and spirit, and like all other fluids tends to an equilibrium, therefore it is easy to conceive how the efforts which the bodies make towards each other produce animal electricity, which in fact is no more than the effect produced between two bodies, one of which has more motion than the other; a phenomenon serving to prove that the body which has most motion communicates it to the other, until the medium of motion becomes an equilibrium between the two bodies, and then this equality of motion produces animal electricity.
—Wonders and mysteries of animal magnetism displayed; or the history, art, practice, and progress of that useful science, from its first rise in the city of Paris, to the present time. With several Curious Cases and new Anecdotes of the Principal Professors, 1791.
The breath and tears and pulse of all life; the fluid that flows through all creation, permeating space and time and spirit: olibanum, red benzoin absolute, labdanum, betel leaf, galbanum, mastic, and angelica.
When All Colors to Black Are CastAdd to cart
In night when colors all to black are cast,
Distinction lost, or gone down with the light;
The eye a watch to inward senses placed,
Not seeing, yet still having powers of sight,
Gives vain alarums to the inward sense,
Where fear stirred up with witty tyranny,
Confounds all powers, and thorough self-offense,
Doth forge and raise impossibility:
Such as in thick depriving darknesses,
Proper reflections of the error be,
And images of self-confusednesses,
Which hurt imaginations only see;
And from this nothing seen, tells news of devils,
Which but expressions be of inward evils.
– Lord Brooke Fulke Greville
Ink-black musk and dried blackberries, midnight opoponax and sweet labdanum.