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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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  Le Lèthè Perfume Oil

  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.

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  Mary Shelley Perfume Oil

  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 perfume.

  Illustrated by Abigail Larson.
  Purchase the tee here!

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  Apostrophe of Time Perfume Oil

  O fleeting Time! whence art thou come?
  And whither do thy footsteps tend?
  Deep in the past where was thy home,
  And where thy future journey’s end?

  Thou art from vast eternity,
  And unto boundless regions found;
  But what and where’s infinity?
  And what know we of space unbound?

  The furrowed brow betokens age;
  But who thy centuries can tell?
  Was ancient seer or learned sage
  In wisdom’s lore e’er versed so well?

  Hast thou from childhood wandered thus,
  Companionless and lone, through space,
  With mystery o’er thy exodus,
  And darkness ’round thy resting place.

  What lengthened years have come and gone,
  Since thou thy tireless march began,
  Since Luna’s children sang at dawn,
  The wonders of creation’s plan?

  How many years of gloom and night
  Had passed, long ere yon king of day
  Had reigned his fiery steeds of light,
  And sped them on their shining way?

  Thou knowest — Thou alone, O thou!
  Omniscient and eternal Three!
  To whose broad eye all time is now —
  The past, with all eternity;

  In whose dread presence I shall stand,
  When time shall sink to rise no more,
  In that broad sea of thy command,
  Whose waves roll on, without a shore.
  – James Madison Bell

  The overwhelming incalculability of space, the glow and fade of countless days, the starry expanse of night. A scent that reaches into eternity and towards forever: glittering bergamot, lemon peel, and golden amber, star-flecked labdanum, neroli, and clary sage.

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