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  The Candy Butcher Perfume Oil

  An exquisite, enigmatic woman sidles up to you, bearing a tray of strange, dusty curios, chocolate creatures, serpentine taffy, and candied skulls. Her skin is dusky, her eyes are heavy-lidded and sensual, her hair is the fine, soft white of spun sugar, and her skin is softly scented with cocoa. She holds a shrunken head aloft, and beckons.

  Bittersweet chocolate with a heavy cream undertone.

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  Deer Moon 2024 Perfume Oil

  Out of the mid-wood’s twilight
  Into the meadow’s dawn,
  Ivory limbed and brown-eyed,
  Flashes my Faun!
  
  He skips through the copses singing,
  And his shadow dances along,
  And I know not which I should follow,
  Shadow or song!
  
  O Hunter, snare me his shadow!
  O Nightingale, catch me his strain!
  Else moonstruck with music and madness
  I track him in vain!
  – Oscar Wilde
  
  Moonstruck with music and madness: warm russet musk, toasted sandalwood, cacao, blood-tipped blackberry thorns, and oak bark.

   

  Art by Drew Rausch!

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  Theodosius, the Legerdemain Perfume Oil

  A flash of light and the smell of sulfur seize your attention. A vast black tent stands before you, subtly glowing with an unnatural, almost phosphorescent light. This tent has no pennants, no ornamentation, save for a carved ebony sign, lettered in silver:

  “Master Theodosius
  Legerdemain, Medium, Conjurer
  One thousand years of marvels.
  Enter at your peril.”

  Another flash blinds you, and from a swirl of smoke a rakish, devilishly handsome man appears, long black hair falling down halfway to his waist, elegant and sinister in an inky silk tuxedo and a voluminous cape. The shadow he casts against the tent, oddly, seems to be that of an enormous corvus, and his eyes radiate a deep azure light. Staring fixedly at you, he snaps his fingers, and two bolts of violet lightning strike the ground on either side of him, blinding you momentarily. As your eyes adjust, you see that two lovely, slender, waiflike women now stand upon the scarred ground beside him, dressed in tattered ballerina costumes the nebulous color of smoke. Turning to his right, he touches the woman’s lips and says, “Seachd seachd uair!” She opens her mouth, and a flock of diminutive bats fly forth from her throat. Turning to his left, he touches the other woman’s hair and repeats, “Seachd seachd uair!” What once was a gleaming mane of stark white hair is now a nest of writhing vipers. She opens her mouth, baring fangs, and spits forth a thin stream of venom. The Master swirls his cape, which suddenly seems to grow and twist like a living shadow, and in a final flash of red lightning and a deafening thunderclap, he and both his assistants vanish.

  Earl Grey tea leaves, a white fougere, jasmine leaf, pearlescent white musk, and vanilla bean.

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  Arachnina, The Spider Girl Perfume Oil

  You move towards the first stage on your right, and as you walk, you feel something brush across your cheek. Something about the softness of the phantom caress makes your skin crawl, and you flinch involuntarily. At that moment, the Spider Girl strides haughtily onto the platform, her stiletto heels clicking a strange staccato as she walks. Her body is wrapped in skin-tight strips of black PVC, and the gleaming vinyl glistens in stark contrast to the alabaster skin on her six pale, white arms. She gestures to the rafters above with a graceful flick of her blood-red nails. In dread, your eyes are drawn skyward: above her, in a gossamer snare, web-shrouded bodies twist and struggle.

  A swirling, hypnotic perfume of black currant, poppy, red and black musk, lilies, nicotiana, tobacco tar, and patchouli.

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