“So. I got to say it, because nobody else here will. We are at the center of this place: a land that has no time for gods, and here at the center it has less time for us than anywhere. It is a no-man’s-land, a place of truce, and we observe our truces, here. We have no choice. So. You give us the body of our friend. We accept it. You will pay for this, murder for murder, blood for blood.”
Black oudh, patchouli, opoponax, black pepper, and blackened cacao.
coffinpop –
after one smell i knew i needed more. so i decided i had to put it in my mustache. it was a sound decision. i dont think i can go back to a world that doesnt smell like this. the kyphi and oud practically play doctor together, and the opoponax and orris offer a rich lotion quality, an expensive one from a 300 year old business, like one of gwyneths goops. the clove and tobacco sit in the background with the incenses, like the rafters and walls soaked through with centuries of smoke that you find at old churches or taverns that whisper their perfume at you when you sit beneath them. its such a perfect balance between after dinner showers for midnight masses, and late night tarot readings at the bordello. i cannot give y’all at the lab as much gratitude as you deserve for mixing this one up. you want a forehead kiss? a kidney? what do you need to keep this one going?