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  Shoggoth Perfume Oil

  It was a terrible, indescribable thing vaster than any subway train – a shapeless congerie of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly self-luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and un-forming as pustules of greenish light all over the tunnel-filling front that bore down upon us, crushing the frantic penguins and slithering over the glistening floor that it and its kind had swept so evilly free of all litter.

  An amorphous, radiant, incandescent scent. Ever changing, protoplasmic and primordial: white amber, green coconut meat, iris, palmarosa, Chinese peony, lime, water lily, snowdrop, muguet, lemongrass, osmanthus, wisteria, glassy musk, and hinoki.

  Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page
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  Skyborn Perfume Oil

  “The Overlight, we called it.
  and it is by its colored rays that you will
  know your power, oh Skyborn child”

  An otherworldly, iridescent shine, casked on-site at the Manifold Elixarium: opalescent lavenderine, sheer white musk, wild bergamot, iris and white amber drifting on a pale cloud of Hearthwood Ash.

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• 

  The Grindhouse Perfume Oil

  Throaty laughter captures your attention. Across the lane you see a buxom Venetian woman standing before a huge black and red striped tent. Her head is inclined towards a dapper, leering man, and they appear to be sharing a private joke. He reaches into his waistcoat and produces a gold coin. The woman plucks it from his fingers. He bows, and walks into the tent with a swagger. A sign flashes above the tent flap in letters that seem to be aflame: The Grindhouse, Dead or Live Girls.

  The Madam turns towards you and smiles. As she approaches, someone within the tent strikes a few keys on a tuneless piano, and begins to play Jelly Roll Morton’s ‘the Crave’. The light within the tent illuminates the interior, shining behind the silhouettes of naked women gyrating lewdly upon raised stages, writhing in time with the music.

  In the distance, behind the tent, you hear a whip crack, and a man’s scream. Tittering laughter follows, and the screams continue.

  “Voulez-vous un morceau de la boîte de bonbon?” she asks, gesturing gracefully towards the tent.

  The Madam’s perfume envelops you.

  Florentine iris, red musk, mimosa, magnolia, Damascus rose, clove, and vanilla bean.

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• 

  Ceres Perfume Oil

  Antoine Watteau

  Billowing clouds of mallow flower, cream, and peonies, soft blushing amber, corn kernels, budding wheat, and spun sugar.

  Out of Stock