Final Baggie: Part One
Ares v3-No description.
I've been curious about these. Every one's reviews of each version were VERY mixed on the love/hate scale. I was like, "Yep, that's an ares" (hm, reviews are saying mint, woods, and eucalyptus...not what I'd imagine as Ares 6.o) Mint and Cinnamon. Like a big red. Now something else, some one mentioned the pink tinge being dragon's blood. It's...odd. I'ma let that sit for a bit. (Pleh, no, no thank you. Ares and Ares do not play together)...It has mellowed and smoothed later, dragon's blood has eaten up everything else.
Hearth v2-Again, no description and evergreen as the popular note. Yep. evergreen, pine, and snow. A tad bit cleanerish but very Christmas in the forest.
Scurvy v1- Lime skittles with a little bit of salt underneath.
Doc Constantine prototype-A scream splits the air, jarring you. You see shadows move jaggedly within the tent, there is another scream, and all is suddenly still and silent. After a long heartbeat, the door flap opens. A man steps out wearing a crystal-eyed schnabel mask in the style of medieval plague doctors, carmine streaking his sleeves, vest, and the blonde hair that crowns him. He pulls off the mask, and you see a handsome figure, almost beatific. He rolls a cigarette, lights it, takes a deep pull, and winks at you slyly as he gestures at the multitude of concoctions he has for sale. A bent crone, her body as bowed and knotty as an ancient oak, shuffles up to the wagon with rosy-cheeked, tow-headed maiden following her at a small distance. As she approaches the doctor, the crone gestures at herself, running a gnarled hand down her body in a sweeping movement, and casting a sideways glance at her grandchild. Smiling an angel's smile, Doc Constantine hands the old woman a potion the color of cold, congealed blood. She drinks it quickly, gasping. Before your eyes her body shimmers and blurs, and a shower of dark sparks seems to engulf her. Where the crone stood, there is now a voluptuous, raven-haired vixen, vibrant, sensual, at the prime of her life and sexual vitality. Her shriek of joy is interrupted by another's scream of shock: the rigors of age have not vanished; they have moved aside, and the young woman has aged horribly, taking on the crone's burden.Sheer musk, cedar smoke, fir needle, black amber and leather.
this kind of sounds like one for Kohl.
Cedar, first, as usual. Black amber next, or could be the musk. Tiiny hint of leather. An interesting, dark cologne for whatever man can handle it. or mom.
Apothecary v1- Reviewers say old green and herbal. Kind of shampooey, but that kind where people will lean in, sniff your hair, and say "You smell nice, what do you use?" Green, with some mild floral. Fresh and unisex. Dry down has it leaning a little more towards Irish soap than shampoo.
I've been curious about these. Every one's reviews of each version were VERY mixed on the love/hate scale. I was like, "Yep, that's an ares" (hm, reviews are saying mint, woods, and eucalyptus...not what I'd imagine as Ares 6.o) Mint and Cinnamon. Like a big red. Now something else, some one mentioned the pink tinge being dragon's blood. It's...odd. I'ma let that sit for a bit. (Pleh, no, no thank you. Ares and Ares do not play together)...It has mellowed and smoothed later, dragon's blood has eaten up everything else.
Hearth v2-Again, no description and evergreen as the popular note. Yep. evergreen, pine, and snow. A tad bit cleanerish but very Christmas in the forest.
Scurvy v1- Lime skittles with a little bit of salt underneath.
Doc Constantine prototype-A scream splits the air, jarring you. You see shadows move jaggedly within the tent, there is another scream, and all is suddenly still and silent. After a long heartbeat, the door flap opens. A man steps out wearing a crystal-eyed schnabel mask in the style of medieval plague doctors, carmine streaking his sleeves, vest, and the blonde hair that crowns him. He pulls off the mask, and you see a handsome figure, almost beatific. He rolls a cigarette, lights it, takes a deep pull, and winks at you slyly as he gestures at the multitude of concoctions he has for sale. A bent crone, her body as bowed and knotty as an ancient oak, shuffles up to the wagon with rosy-cheeked, tow-headed maiden following her at a small distance. As she approaches the doctor, the crone gestures at herself, running a gnarled hand down her body in a sweeping movement, and casting a sideways glance at her grandchild. Smiling an angel's smile, Doc Constantine hands the old woman a potion the color of cold, congealed blood. She drinks it quickly, gasping. Before your eyes her body shimmers and blurs, and a shower of dark sparks seems to engulf her. Where the crone stood, there is now a voluptuous, raven-haired vixen, vibrant, sensual, at the prime of her life and sexual vitality. Her shriek of joy is interrupted by another's scream of shock: the rigors of age have not vanished; they have moved aside, and the young woman has aged horribly, taking on the crone's burden.Sheer musk, cedar smoke, fir needle, black amber and leather.
this kind of sounds like one for Kohl.
Cedar, first, as usual. Black amber next, or could be the musk. Tiiny hint of leather. An interesting, dark cologne for whatever man can handle it. or mom.
Apothecary v1- Reviewers say old green and herbal. Kind of shampooey, but that kind where people will lean in, sniff your hair, and say "You smell nice, what do you use?" Green, with some mild floral. Fresh and unisex. Dry down has it leaning a little more towards Irish soap than shampoo.