Orange Blossom

  • Bette Noir

    The Paradigm’s martial artist and weapons master, Bette carries a grim secret—that she alone knows Plutonian’s one true vulnerability.

    Benzoin, wild plum, smoky amber, bergamot, orange blossom, myrrh, and dark berries.

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  • Dainty Sulphur

    Drifting low to the ground, this tiny, tough butterfly searches for nectar and mates in vacant lots and coastal flats.

    Orange blossom and brimstone.

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  • Dracul

    Named in honor of Vlad III, Tepes, of the Order of the Dragon. Black musk, tobacco, fir, balsam of peru, cumin, bitter clove, crushed mint, and orange blossom.

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  • Fortuna Balnearis

    The Fortunes of Health and Well-Being

    A hymn for good health and protection of the vulnerable: orange blossom honey, vanilla husk, green stem sap, and a drop of King mandarin.

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  • Fortuna Huiusce Diei

    The Luck of the Day

    A hymn to seizing good fortune in the moment: orange blossom and wild bergamot sweetened with apricot.

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  • Fortuna Liberum

    The Fortunes of Children

    A hymn to the safety and freedom of children that they may prosper in health and wild joy: sweet vanilla tousled with orange blossom, blood orange peel, and a squirt of strawberry juice.

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  • Glare and Glitter and Piquancy and Phantasm

    He had directed, in great part, the moveable embellishments of the seven chambers, upon occasion of this great fete; and it was his own guiding taste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were grotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy and phantasm — much of what has been since seen in “Hernani.” There were arabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. There were delirious fancies such as the madman fashions.

    Delirious fancies such as the madman fashions, arabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments: orris absolute and leather contorted by cherry and orange blossom.

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  • Harlequin

    Inspired by the character EPPY THATCHER.
    A futuristic, gothic harlequin, addicted to a heinous hallucinogen with the street name “Grendel”, who leads chaotic attacks against the corrupt Catholic Church.

    Psychotomimetic: pink grapefruit, white honey, orange blossom, saffron, champagne grape, elemi, guaiac, blonde tobacco, and olibanum.

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  • Hunger

    Evokes sheer, unadulterated carnal lust. An undeniably warm and sensual scent. Black narcissus, orange blossoms, and vanilla.

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  • It was Folly to Grieve, or to Think

    The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think.

    Ginger-squeezed champagne with crushed diamonds, orange blossoms, and peach blossoms.

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  • Iulia, L’Artiste du Diable

    A chittering buzz rises from a small crowd that has gathered around an opulent velvet-draped tent. Some are fidgeting impatiently; others try in vain to peep within the tent. Within moments, a slim, stunningly handsome man emerges from the entryway to the sound of gasps and scattered applause. His face is lit with fierce joy, and he bows almost smugly to the assemblage. Grabbing a flirtatious blonde from the mob, he kisses her in a rush of mad passion, his arm encircles her waist, and he leads her directly to a nearby opium den. The crowd disperses, and curiosity pulls you forward. You push open the fringed, beaded tent-flap and enter the dimly-lit room. A lovely, voluptuous redhead stands before an ornate antique easel. Her luminous alabaster skin and the phosphorescence emanating from her paintbrush seem to be the only source of light. As you adjust to the gloom, you see that the walls are covered with atrocities: an exhibit of dissolution. The myriad canvases show men and women in various stages of rot and decay, a panoply of indulgence, teeth set in fury, mouths leering in lust, hands grasping greedily.

    The scarlet woman turns her gleaming sightless eyes towards you and, in a husky, compelling voice, she speaks:

    “Why let the years tear at your youthful splendor? Why let the mark of your sins stain your fine features? Will you let the cold, creeping grasp of time and the toil of temptation mar your visage? Why should the pleasures of our flesh wreak such havoc?”

    She leans in close to you and whispers, “Let me capture your soul on this canvas in oil and blood, and you will be beautiful forever.”

    White tea, sugar cane, orange blossom, rockrose, lemon balm, white mint, and honey.

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  • Jasmine Cottage

    She’d rented the cottage furnished, which meant that the actual furniture was the special sort you find in these circumstances and had probably been left out for the dustmen by the local War on Want shop. It didn’t matter. She didn’t expect to be here long.

    If Agnes was right, she wouldn’t be anywhere long. Nor would anyone else.

    Camellia, jasmine, heather, orange blossom, osmanthus, wisteria, thyme, angelica, freesia, granny’s nightcap, and English wildflowers.

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  • Jezebel

    Biblical witch, priestess of Astarte, and general troublemaker. A true role model for today’s upwardly mobile Modern Woman. A gloriously decadent blend of honey, roses, orange blossom and sandalwood.

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  • Katharina

    A strong, willful blend with a soft, utterly lovely soul: white musk with a trickle of bright, sharp apricot and orange blossom.

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  • Knucklebones

    You hear a clatter on the ground behind you, and a small bleached bone smacks against your foot. Cloaked in shadows between the tents, three men crouch playing knucklebones. Distress clouds the face of one of the men, while another bursts into a wicked smile and the last one sighs in relief. Scooping up his winnings and shaking his head, the victor makes a soft ‘tsk’ noise as he reaches towards the loser’s chest, positioning his hand over the man’s heart. Pressing forward, his hand moves through cloth, flesh, muscle, and bone to extract the beating organ. Tossing the heart onto the ground, he says to you, “Mind handing me those bones, buddy? I’ve got a game to run here.”

    Black musk, bay rum, lime fougere, orange blossom water, gin, and tobacco.

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  • Les Bijoux

    My well-beloved was stripped. Knowing my whim,
    She wore her tinkling gems, but naught besides:
    And showed such pride as, while her luck betides,
    A sultan’s favored slave may show to him.

    When it lets off its lively, crackling sound,
    This blazing blend of metal crossed with stone
    Gives me an ecstasy I’ve only known
    Where league of sound and lustre can be found.

    She let herself be loved: then, drowsy-eyed,
    Smiled down from her high couch in languid ease.
    My love was deep and gentle as the seas
    And rose to her as to a cliff the tide.

    My own approval of each dreamy pose,
    Like a tamed tiger, cunningly she sighted:
    And candour, with lubricity united,
    Gave piquancy to every one she chose.

    Her limbs and hips, burnished with changing lustres
    Before my eyes, clairvoyant and serene,
    Swanned themselves, undulating in their sheen;
    Her breasts and belly, of my vine the clusters,

    Like evil angels rose, my fancy twitting,
    To kill the peace which over me she’d thrown,
    And to disturb her from the crystal throne
    Where, calm and solitary, she was sitting.

    So swerved her pelvis that, in one design,
    Antiope’s white rump it seemed to graft
    To a boy’s torso, merging fore and aft.
    The talc on her brown tan seemed half-divine.

    The lamp resigned its dying flame. Within,
    The hearth alone lit up the darkened air,
    And every time it sighed a crimson flare
    It drowned in blood that amber-coloured skin.

    Skin musk and honey, blood-red rose, orange blossom, white peach, red apple, frankincense and myrrh.

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  • Maenad

    Orgiastic mayhem in the extreme: sweet strawberry and orange blossom distorted by carnation, black poppy and hibiscus.

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  • Masquerade

    A festive, dazzling blend, layered in mystery and intrigue. Patchouli, ambergris, carnation and orange blossom.

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  • Mastermind

    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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  • Pandy

    Every girl you’d ever want to be or know. Although she doesn’t quite know it…yet. Ever since she had turned thirteen and had officially become a maiden, Pandora Atheneus Andromaeche Helena, only daughter of the titan Prometheus, was bored to tears. Well…not bored exactly…but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling. She looked skyward and saw Bellerophon, now a tiny speck, rocketing about on his magnificent winged horse. Gods, how exciting that must be! And there were other heroes, men and women, all over Greece doing wonderful, brave, death-defying things right at that very moment. Her curiosity rose inside her like steam. What would it feel like to have a sword in her hand or fly on the back of a magical animal? How she wished she could have some kind, any kind, of adventure.

    Fresh white musk, honeycomb, sweet apricot, elemi, orange blossom, and mischievous pink pepper.

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  • Queen Butterfly

    Lady Butterfly
    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.

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  • Ravenous

    An utterly feral, thoroughly rousing perfume. Red patchouli sweetened by orange blossom.

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  • Tavern of Hell

    Sometimes I would venture from my sepulchre to the jazz of night Paris, where having gathered the colours, I would think them over in front of the fire. I could be seen walking through a funeral corridor of my house and descending down a black spiral of steep stairs; rushing underground to Montmartre, all impatience to see the fiery rubies of the Moulin Rouge cross. I wondered thereabouts, then bought a ticket to watch frenzied delirium of feathers, vulgar painted lips and eyelashes of black and blue.

    Naked feet, and thighs, and arms, and breasts were being flung on me from bloody-red foam of translucent clothes. The tuxedoed goatees and crooked noses in white vests and toppers would line the hall, with their hands posed on canes. Then I found myself in a pub, where the liqueurs were served on a coffin (not a table) by the nickering devil: “Drink it, you wretched!” Having drunk, I returned under the black sky split by the flaming vanes, which the radiant needles of my eyelashes cross-hatched. In front of my nose a stream of bowler hats and black veils was still pulsing, foamy with bluish green and warm orange of feathers worn by the night beauties: to me they were all one, as I had to narrow my eyes for insupportable radiance of electric lamps, whose hectic fires would be dancing beneath my nervous eyelids for many a night to come.

    White gardenia, ambergris bouquet, lavender fougere, orange blossom, melissa, tobacco flower, coriander, ebony wood, ylang ylang, absinthe and aged whiskey.

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  • The Hourglass

    “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 Sun’s Treasure

    “Have you remembered how I do my little coin trick?” he asked Shadow with a grin.

    “I have not.”

    “If you can guess how I did it,” said Mad Sweeney, his lips purple, his blue eyes beclouded, “I’ll tell you if you get warm.”

    “It’s not a palm is it?” asked Shadow.

    “It is not.”

    “Is it a gadget of some kind? Something up your sleeve or elsewhere that shoots the coins up for you to catch?”

    “It is not that neither. More whiskey, anybody?”

    “I read in a book about a way of doing the miser’s dream with latex covering the palm of your hand, making a skin-colored pouch for the coins to hide behind.”

    “This is a sad wake for Great Sweeney who flew like a bird across all of Ireland and ate watercress in his madness: to be dead and unmourned save for a bird, a dog, and an idiot. No, it is not a pouch.”

    “Well, that’s pretty much it for ideas,” said Shadow. “I expect you just take them out of nowhere.” It was meant to be sarcasm, but then he saw the expression on Sweeney’s face. “You do,” he said. “You do take them from nowhere.”

    “Well, not exactly nowhere,” said Mad Sweeney. “But now you’re getting the idea. You take them from the hoard.”

    “The hoard,” said Shadow, starting to remember.

    “Yes.”

    “You just have to hold it in your mind, and it’s yours to take from. The sun’s treasure. It’s there in those moments when the world makes a rainbow. It’s there in the moment of eclipse and the moment of the storm.” And he showed Shadow how to do the thing. This time Shadow got it.

    Radiant amber and orange blossom, golden oudh, and saffron-threaded honey.

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  • Transeo

    The Transeo are vampires that have assimilated into human society, often reaching positions of power. Among the Transeo there are many celebrated politicians, scientists, businessmen, philosophers, artists, writers, and musicians, and, surprisingly, a large number of influential clergy and militarists. Not every Transeo is an illustrious public figure; many simply desire the comforts associated with reentering society. In the past, most Transeo posed as humans as best they could, concealing their true natures. In the twenty-first century, more and more Transeo are coming out in the open, and they form the backbone of most vampire-acceptance movements.

    GA cologne that (almost) blends well into human society: benzoin, orange blossom, cumin, King mandarin, gaiac wood, juniper berry, Calabrian bergamot, Ceylon cinnamon, and blood camouflaged by wine.

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  • Tweedledee

    Tweedledum and Tweedledee 
    Agreed to have a battle! 
    For Tweedledum said Tweedledee 
    Had spoiled his nice new rattle. 

    Just then flew down a monstrous crow, 
    As black as a tar-barrel! 
    Which frightened both the heroes so, 
    They quite forgot their quarrel.’

    Ridiculous! Kumquat, white pepper, white tea and orange blossom.

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  • Twilight Grooming Scene

    A vibrant green chypre with orange blossom, pine needles, and violet leaf.

    Out of Stock
  • Vice

    Voluptuous and indulgent! A deep chocolate scent, with black cherry and orange blossom.

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  • Vicomte de Valmont

     I promised her my eternal love, and I actually thought that for a couple of hours. 

    Rake, scoundrel, demon in a frock coat. Devilishly seductive, ultimately tragic; a villain undone and redeemed by love. Based on an 18th century gentlemen’s cologne: ambergris, white musk, white sandalwood, Spanish Moss, orange blossom, three mints, jasmine, rose geranium and a spike of rosemary.

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  • Visiting the Sumida River with a Geisha

    Crystalline azure musk, orange blossom, water lily, hinoki wood, Texas cedar, and night-blooming jasmine.

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  • Vixen

    Lascivious, flirtatious, and vampy as hell. A true heartbreaker’s perfume. The innocence of orange blossom tainted by the beguiling scents of ginger and patchouli.

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  • Wembley

    To Wemble is a Fragglish word that means (roughly) “to be so unable to make up one’s mind that it’s ridiculous.” Wembley is indecision personified. Wembley has an uncanny ability to find merit on both sides of any issue. This talent occasionally casts him in the role of peacemaker.

    Innocently indecisive: white musk, banana, orange blossom, honey, pineapple, and mint.

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  • Who Would Not Tremble Too?

    The new discovery of “Table Moving,” by means of an unseen power from the human hand, has only been introduced into England within the last few weeks; but it would be difficult to dingle out any scientific subject which has with such rapidity, taken so extensive a hold of the popular mind. If we travel by railway carriage, steamboat, or omnibus, this is the universal topic of conversation. From the aristocratic saloons of Belgravia to the “Parlours” of Whitechapel – the Green Park to the Cat and Mutton Fields, “table moving” is all the rage. From the Royal Institution, where the secretary pokes his head through a forest of electrical apparatus, to inform the audience that the facts are established, down to the humblest Mechanics’ Institute, all are full of it, and the tables, to quote the words of the old song – “are all a moving, move, move, moving,” – Every evening party must of course have its experiments; accordingly, gentlemen come provided with very elegant chapeaux for the occasion, and many an innocent flirtation occurs consequent on the proper arrangement of the little fingers of some of the fair operators. As “sweet eighteen,” with her blue eyes and golden locks, gracefully links her little finger with Charles’s, in a retired corner, what wonder if the hat should tremble? And Charles, being of course fond of poetry (his very name is a guarantee for that), cannot resist softly breathing into Lucy’s ear, that exquisite line from Waller, on his fair one’s harp –

    “Touched by that hand – who would not tremble too?”

    And after a little more conversation of a strictly scientific character, they feel quite satisfied with the success of the experiment. Mamma, who has been watching the progress of the magnetic influence at a distance, “has no patience with such nonsense, and wonders young men and young women cannot find something better to do.” She forgets that there was a magnetic influence at work about twenty years since, and what little trifles served as conductors then.

    – Table Moving, its causes and phenomena: with directions how to experiment

    A spirit-touched courtship: sweet orange blossom, white honey, jasmine tea, white sandalwood, green apple, and lily of the valley.

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  • Zarita, The Doll Girl

    A tiny woman stands in the center of the stage, the perfect woman in miniature, her copper hair bouncing in elegant curls. She is surrounded on all sides by a necropolis of maimed, mutilated stuffed animals, decapitated fashion dolls, and eviscerated wooden figures. It is a strangely ghastly tableau: the disemboweled toys ooze fiberfill, batting, and sawdust from their gaping wounds. In one dainty hand she clutches a shard of glass, and in the other she nimbly twirls a razor blade. Her face is twisted in a grimace of mad ferocity, and she hisses as she brandishes her makeshift weapons at you. “Play with me?” she growls.

    Soft, yet sociopathic: white carnation, iris, orange blossom, poisonous pale white berries, and sugared cream.

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  • Zorya Vechernyaya

    “You see, I am the only one of us who brings in any money. The other two cannot make money fortune-telling. This is because they only tell the truth, and the truth is not what people want to hear. It is a bad thing, and it troubles people, so they do not come back. But I can lie to them, tell them what they want to hear. So I bring home the bread.”

    Red musk and wild plum, orange blossom and jasmine, juniper berries, sweet incense and vetiver-laced sandalwood.

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