Opoponax

  • Alchemical Laboratory Home & Linen Spray

    And yet surely to alchemy this right is due, that it may be compared to the husbandman whereof Æsop makes the fable, that when he died he told his sons that he had left unto them gold buried under the ground in his vineyard: and they digged over the ground, gold they found none, but by reason of their stirring and digging the mould about the roots of their vines, they had a great vintage the year following: so assuredly the search and stir to make gold hath brought to light a great number of good and fruitful inventions and experiments, as well for the disclosing of nature as for the use of man’s life.
    — Sir Francis Bacon

    Frankincense, benzoin, opoponax, rose geranium, daemonorops, and cinnabar accord.

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  • Alien/Siren Perfume Oil

    “Women are defined from the outside, in terms of how they seem to men, rather than from the inside, as thinking, feeling subjects. They are not fellow people, not even a different or worse variety of person, but simply the opposite of men, and hence, the opposite of human.

    Which leads to the question of how you can have sex with something that isn’t human. In many myths, heterosexuality is portrayed as a kind of legalized bestiality, and attractive women are alluring, predatory, half-human monsters: fairy wives, snake-women, others whose beauty is a thin veneer over their dangerous and alien psyches.”

    A sebaceous, slick reptilian perfume: green and black vegetal musks, kelp, sea salt, blackened opoponax, violet leaf, Siamese red benzoin, davana, squid ink, and ambergris accord.

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  • Blauer Mond Perfume Oil

    Brian’s interpretation.

     

    A whisper under the moonlight: blue musk, and indigo amber, myrrh, moonlit oudh, opoponax, terebinth, and tobacco leaf.

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    Bram Stoker Beard Oil

    No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be.

    Bourbon vetiver with opoponax, Italian bergamot, and hay absolute.

    Illustrated by Abigail Larson.

    Purchase the tee here!

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    Bram Stoker Perfume Oil

    No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be.

    Bourbon vetiver with opoponax, Italian bergamot, and hay absolute.

    Illustrated by Abigail Larson.
    Purchase the tee here!

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    Brusque Violet Perfume Oil

    `I never saw anybody that looked stupider,’ a Violet said, so suddenly, that Alice quite jumped; for it hadn’t spoken before.

    `Hold your tongue!’ cried the Tiger-lily. `As if you ever saw anybody! You keep your head under the leaves, and snore away there, till you know no more what’s going on in the world, that if you were a bud!’ 

    `Are there any more people in the garden besides me?’ Alice said, not choosing to notice the Rose’s last remark.

    `There’s one other flower in the garden that can move about like you,’ said the Rose. `I wonder how you do it — ‘ (`You’re always wondering,’ said the Tiger-lily), `but she’s more bushy than you are.’

    `Is she like me?’ Alice asked eagerly, for the thought crossed her mind, `There’s another little girl in the garden, somewhere!’

    `Well, she has the same awkward shape as you,’ the Rose said, `but she’s redder — and her petals are shorter, I think.’

    `Her petals are done up close, almost like a dahlia,’ the Tiger-lily interrupted: `not tumbled about anyhow, like yours.’

    `But that’s not your fault,’ the Rose added kindly: `you’re beginning to fade, you know — and then one can’t help one’s petals getting a little untidy.’

    Violet petal, violet leaf, osmanthus, orris, mint, and opoponax.

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    Dawn: Priestess Perfume Oil

    Damascus rose, jasmine, myrrh, opoponax, white sage, and patchouli.

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    Dead for Filth Perfume Oil

    From the ooky spooky mind of horror personality and screenwriter, Michael Varrati, comes the REVRY Original Podcast DEAD FOR FILTH, for all things queer horror and beyond. Dead For Filth brings you the best queer & horror icons out of the closet and into the night to talk about the genre they love.

    Listen to DEAD FOR FILTH on REVRY, iTunes or SoundCloud.

    Raw Patchouli, opoponax, and a coppery dry blood exhale.

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    Dead Words on a Dead Frequency Perfume Oil

    “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.

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    Death Adder Perfume Oil

    Snake Oil with vetiver, black coconut, vanilla, and opoponax.

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    Don’t Touch Perfume Oil

    “You’ve got to admit it’s a bit of a pantomime, though,” said Crawly. “I mean, pointing out the Tree and saying ‘Don’t Touch’ in big letters. Not very subtle, is it? I mean, why not put it on top of a high mountain or a long way off? Makes you wonder what He’s really planning.”

    And Jehovah God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat: but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: the green rolling hills of the First Garden, a scattering of apple blossoms and apple pulp, a handful of pomegranate seeds, and a soft, serpentine hiss of poisonous green musk, opoponax, and frankincense.

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  • Elli’s Song Perfume Oil

    “Most shows,” said Rukh after a time, “would end here, for what could they possibly present after a genuine unicorn? But Mommy Fortuna’s Midnight Carnival holds one more mystery yet — a demon more destructive than the dragon, more monstrous than the manticore, more hideous than the harpy, and certainly more universal than the unicorn.” He waved his hand toward the last wagon and the black hangings began to wriggle open, though there was no one pulling them. “Behold her!” Rukh cried. “Behold the last, the Very End! Behold Elli!”

    Inside the cage, it was darker than the evening, and cold stirred behind the bars like a live thing. Something moved in the cold, and the unicorn saw Elli — an old, bony, ragged woman who crouched in the cage rocking and warming herself before a fire that was not there. She looked so frail that the weight of the darkness should have crushed her, and so helpless and alone that the watchers should have rushed forward in pity to free her. Instead, they began to back silently away, for all the world as though Elli were stalking them. But she was not even looking at them. She sat in the dark and creaked a song to herself in a voice that sounded like a saw going through a tree, and like a tree getting ready to fall.

    What is plucked will grow again,
    What is slain lives on,
    What is stolen will remain —
    What is gone is gone.

    “She doesn’t look like much, does she?” Rukh asked. “But no hero can stand before her, no god can wrestle her down, no magic can keep her out — or in, for she’s no prisoner of ours. Even while we exhibit her here, she is walking among you, touching and taking. For Elli is Old Age.”

    The cold of the cage reached out to the unicorn, and wherever it touched her she grew lame and feeble. She felt herself withering, loosening, felt her beauty leaving her with her breath. Ugliness swung from her mane, dragged down her head, stripped her tail, gaunted her body, ate up her coat, and ravaged her mind with remembrance of what she had once been. Somewhere nearby, the harpy made her low, eager sound, but the unicorn would gladly have huddled in the shadow of her bronze wings to hide from this last demon. Elli’s song sawed away at her heart.

    What is sea-born dies on land,
    Soft is trod upon.
    What is given burns the hand —
    What is gone is gone.

    The horrors of entropy, death, and decay: desiccated black mosses, vetiver, bone sandalwood, olibanum, patchouli, opoponax, and ashes.

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  • Event Horizon Perfume Oil

    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.

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    Fuck You, Said the Raven Perfume Oil

    “Hey,” said Shadow. “Huginn or Muninn, or whoever you are.”

    The bird turned, head tipped, suspiciously, on one side, and it stared at him with bright eyes.

    “Say ‘Nevermore,'” said Shadow.

    “Fuck you,” said the raven.”

    Glossy black, rough, and gravelly: violet-gilded opoponax, black patchouli, myrrh, and oak leaf.

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    Ghûlheim Perfume Oil

    Ghouls do not build. They are parasites and scavengers, eaters of carrion. The city they call Ghûlheim is something they found, long ago, but did not make. No one they call knows (if anyone human ever knew) what kind of creatures it was that made those buildings, who honeycombed the rock with tunnels and towers, but it is certain that no-one but the ghoul-folk could have wanted to stay there, or even to approach that place.

    Even from the path below Ghûlheim, even from miles away, Bod could see that all of the angles were wrong — that the walls sloped crazily, that it was every nightmare he had ever endured made into a place, like a huge mouth of jutting teeth. It was a city that had been built just to be abandoned, in which all the fears and madnesses and revulsions of the creatures who built it were made into stone. The ghoul folk had found it and delighted in it and called it home.

    A dark and disjointed scent: smoke and black musk, bladderwrack, opopponax, galangal, and pepper.

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  • Horreur Sympathique Perfume Oil

    From livid skies that, without end,
    As stormy as your future roll,
    What thoughts into your empty soul
    (Answer me, libertine!) descend?

    – Insatiable yet for all
    That turns on darkness, doom, or dice,
    I’ll not, like Ovid, mourn my fall,
    Chased from the Latin paradise.

    Skies, torn like seacoasts by the storm!
    In you I see my pride take form,
    And the huge clouds that rush in streams

    Are the black hearses of my dreams,
    And your red rays reflect the hell,
    In which my heart is pleased to dwell.

    The perfume of a hellbound soul, gleefully lost to iniquity: blood musk, golden honey, thick black wine, champagne grapes, tobacco flower, plum blossom, tonka bean, oakmoss, carnation, benzoin, opoponax, and sugar cane.

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  • In his hands all thy cruelties thrive

    In His Hands All Thy Cruelties Thrive Perfume Oil

    Thou shalt blind his bright eyes though he wrestle,

    Thou shalt chain his light limbs though he strive;

    In his lips all thy serpents shall nestle,

    In his hands all thy cruelties thrive.

    In the daytime thy voice shall go through him,

    In his dreams he shall feel thee and ache;

    Thou shalt kindle by night and subdue him

    Asleep and awake.

     

    Gleaming black vetiver, bay laurel, opoponax, hiba wood, Spanish moss, clove, and leather accord.

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    Ligur Perfume Oil

    “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.

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

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    Mastermind Perfume Oil

    Inspired by the character HUNTER ROSE.
    The first of the Grendel legacy, a stylish, best-selling author who leads a double life as a relentless assassin and all-powerful mob overlord.

    An elegant cologne of olibanum, opoponax, leather accord, black amber, bois de jasmine, cade wood, pale balsam, orange blossom, oudh, black plum, bourbon vanilla, and sandalwood.

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    Misericordia Perfume Oil

    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.

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    Murder for Murder, Blood for Blood Perfume Oil

    “So. I got to say it, because nobody else here will. We are at the center of this place: a land that has no time for gods, and here at the center it has less time for us than anywhere. It is a no-man’s-land, a place of truce, and we observe our truces, here. We have no choice. So. You give us the body of our friend. We accept it. You will pay for this, murder for murder, blood for blood.”

    Black oudh, patchouli, opoponax, black pepper, and blackened cacao.

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    Old Demons of the First Class Perfume Oil

    We must have all the old demons of the first class, with tails, and the hobgoblins and imps; and then I think we ought not to leave out the death-horse, or the grave-pig, or even the church dwarf, although they do belong to the clergy, and are not reckoned among our people; but that is merely their office, they are nearly related to us, and visit us very frequently. 

    Siberian musk, black clove, opoponax, tonka, black pepper, and neroli.

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  • Roses Pearls and Onyx

    Roses, Pearls, and Onyx Perfume Oil

    Black roses, Pashmina oud, clove bud, opoponax, kyphi smoke, tobacco absolute, and orris butter.

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    Sissy, The Ascendant Perfume Oil

    Sassafras and smoke for black vulture feathers, and King mandarin and red musk for the deep red-orange of the vulture’s face. Blue lilac and chamomile / opoponax and vetiver for the blue and black of her eyes. Vanilla bean and fig represent her innate goodness and instinctive kindness.

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    skekZok the Ritual Master Perfume Oil

    SkekZok the Ritual Master was thought to hold control of the court entirely in his own hands. He had the ear of skekSo the Emperor, whose wishes were absolute; no one could hope for success except through skekZok. He sought to rule the other Skeksis through prophecies he invented and false apparitions he conjured. SkekZok found that the Emperor raised favorites only to enjoy the pleasure of their fall, while other distrustful Skeksis practiced their own secret divinations. 

    An incense of deception: frankincense, opoponax, hyssop, champaca, and opium poppy accord.

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    Temple Viper Perfume Oil

    Snake Oil with sugar cane, frankincense, champaca, opoponax, labdanum, and hyssop.

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    The Black Rider Perfume Oil

    As she stood there a third man on horseback came galloping up. His face was black, he was dressed all in black, and the horse he rode was coal-black. He galloped up to the gate of the hut and disappeared there as if he had sunk through the ground and at that moment the night came and the forest grew dark.

    But it was not dark on the green lawn, for instantly the eyes of all the skulls on the wall were lighted up and shone till the place was as bright as day. When she saw this Vasilissa trembled so with fear that she could not run away.

    Black leather, oppoponax, tobacco, and black amber.

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    The Drunkard’s Dream Perfume Oil

    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.

    “No.”

    “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.

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    The Hourglass Perfume Oil

    “I feel like all the sands are at the bottom of the hourglass.”
    “Turn it over, then.”

    The white roses and orange blossoms of hope penetrating despair’s black fog of opoponax, black myrrh, bruised violet, clove, funereal lily, and grief-struck carrot seed.

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  • the shrine where a sin is a prayer

    The Shrine Where Sin is a Prayer Perfume Oil

    I have passed from the outermost portal

    To the shrine where a sin is a prayer;

    What care though the service be mortal?

    O our Lady of Torture, what care?

    All thine the last wine that I pour is,

    The last in the chalice we drain,

    O fierce and luxurious Dolores,

    Our Lady of Pain.

     

    Deep purple Syrah, calamus, myrrh smoke, hyssop, opoponax, bitter clove, burgundy pitch, opium poppy, and violet leaf.

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    Unspeakably Evil Temple Home & Linen Spray

    A profane blend of opoponax, galangal root, dried mosses, wormwood accord, sandarac, frankincense, myrrh, and black copal.

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  • WITCH BIRDS

    Witch-Birds Perfume Oil

    In Sweden tradition says that sorcerers  on Walpurgis night ride to Blocula and there turn into magpies. A lady at Carlstadt in that country was haunted by witch-birds in a very unpleasant manner. Having insulted a Finn woman who had begged food of her she told her to take a magpie that was hanging in a cage and eat it if she was hungry. The Finn cast an ‘evil eye’ on the lady for this insult but took the bird away with her. Some time after the Swedish lady noticed that whenever she went out a magpie came hopping in front of her. This happened for some days running, and then the magpie was joined by a companion bird, and presently by a number. The lady began to get frightened, but the more she tried to get rid of these strange companions the more numerous they became. They perched on her shoulders, tugged at her dress, and pecked at her ankles. In despair she shut herself up indoors, but they remained outside, and as soon as the door was open in they hopped. At last she went to bed and had the shutters closed, and the magpies kept on tapping outside till she died.

     

    Blinding-white mallow and vanilla sandalwood streaked with indigo opium pod accord, velvet black violet petals, wild plum, and opoponax.

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