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  Blue Moon Perfume Oil

  The spirit of the full moon is capricious, intense and passionate, yet still distant, aloof and cold. Luna herself governs glamours, bewitchments and dream-work, innocent wonder, transient pleasure and delight, the Moment, impulse, mystery and veils. The Blue Moon is one of her rarest manifestations, and this scent is formulated to encapsulate her most complex and profound nature:

   

  Mugwort and bay, for psychic sensitivity…

  Juniper, for divination through dreams…

  Lavender and almond oil for clarity and relaxation…

  Orchid and purple sage for complexity, wisdom and noscere…

   

  …with a potent lunar-charged blend of exquisite woods, moonflower, Madagascan ylang ylang, Florentine iris, starry bergamot, elemi, green tea absolute, palmarosa, cucumber, Clary sage, lettuce leaf, melilot trefoils, and wood aloes.

  Art by Drew Rausch!

  Out of Stock
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  Wulric, The Wolfman Perfume Oil

  A lively tune is being played nearby; it is syncopated, a disjointed song, but perky and upbeat. As you turn to the next stage, you see the broad back and shaggy hair of the next performer. He is seated on a stool in front of a battered upright piano. Wire pokes out from holes in the back of the decrepit beechwood, and broken pinblocks are scattered on the floor. A bowl of glistening viscera has been plopped on a small end table next to the pianist. You can see that the ivory keys of the piano are smeared with blood. He pounds and tinkles the keys merrily, and laughs to himself. The man turns to the audience, and his unkempt russet hair, feral yellow eyes, wild balbo, and chin curtain beard betray his lycanthropic nature. He smiles widely, innocently, and waves his red-stained, black-clawed paw in a genial welcome. He bellows cheerfully, “Hi there! Make yourself comfortable! Don’t you look absolutely necrolishious! HA! HAHA! I just made that word up!” He laughs again, turns, and resumes playing the piano. The rambling tune picks up pace, and he plays with a showman’s flourish. The song slows as he chats with the audience from over his shoulder. “You know, my ex-girlfriend was a real handful, but really… I’ve never known a woman that was as tender as she was. She was all gushy, and well… to be honest, she just fell to pieces for me. Eventually, things ran their course… three courses, really… and, as they say, nothing lasts forever. But I’ll always have a piece of her, here… close to my heart.” He chuckles, and pats the chest of his patchwork overcoat.

  In the distance, possibly from Meskhenet’s stage, you hear one of the phantom musicians give Wulric a gratuitous rim shot.

  Friendly, charming, and cuddly, but possessing one hell of a mean streak: cocoa absolute, French vanilla, birch tar, lavender, bourbon vetiver, wild musk, cardamom husk, clary sage, and cistus.

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  V. The Pope Perfume Oil

  This is my body, he said, two thousand years ago. This is my blood.

  It was the only religion that delivered exactly what it promised: life eternal, for its adherents.

  There are some of us alive today who remember him. And some of us claim that he was a messiah, and some think that he was just a man with very special powers. But that misses the point. Whatever he was, he changed the world.

  Life everlasting: clove-smoke, benzoin, rose maroc, Jerusalem cedar, cistus, and frankincense.

  Out of Stock
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  Haunted Housewife Perfume Oil

  “When mothers try to live the way our culture encourages us to, as almost literally selfless vehicles for others’ fulfillment, we become something else, something cold and hungry, something you wouldn’t want to see standing over your bed in the dark.”

  A thin, sorrowful, lonely scent: white musk and dust, elemi and white amber, carrot seed and opium tar accord.

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