The perfumes that Ilaria produced in her laboratory were not, typically, something that anyone would want to smell. In her first hundred years or so with the hobby, she’d made plenty of those. Cypress and lemon with a hint of smoke and spice had been her favorite, and she still wore that often.
Today, she was after something different. Scent unlocked memories like nothing else and she had in mind a particular battle of the Fourth Blight. She walked up and down the counter, daubing foul smelling mixtures on cards and then stepping away to reset her sense of smell. Biting into a lemon wedge tended to do the job. Ilaria ate the sour flesh and discarded the peels on a clay platter.
This batch was not turning out right.
The smell of the fire was present, burnt hair and charred lizard flesh. Something different about the soil here, perhaps? She ate another slice of lemon and licked the sticky residue off her fingers. A slave brought down a stack of letters and invitations on a tray and then departed as swiftly as they had appeared.
“Caesennia?” She’d have to order away for a proper sample. Perhaps she’d try cold enfleurage, next time. She'd not done that in some time: cover a layer of animal fat with her reagents, leave it to sit for a day. Clean with alcohol and repeat. It was not the most economical way to go about things, to be sure.
“Be a dear and read those aloud for me.” Ilaria turned her attention back to her samples.
@Caesennia Othos
Today, she was after something different. Scent unlocked memories like nothing else and she had in mind a particular battle of the Fourth Blight. She walked up and down the counter, daubing foul smelling mixtures on cards and then stepping away to reset her sense of smell. Biting into a lemon wedge tended to do the job. Ilaria ate the sour flesh and discarded the peels on a clay platter.
This batch was not turning out right.
The smell of the fire was present, burnt hair and charred lizard flesh. Something different about the soil here, perhaps? She ate another slice of lemon and licked the sticky residue off her fingers. A slave brought down a stack of letters and invitations on a tray and then departed as swiftly as they had appeared.
“Caesennia?” She’d have to order away for a proper sample. Perhaps she’d try cold enfleurage, next time. She'd not done that in some time: cover a layer of animal fat with her reagents, leave it to sit for a day. Clean with alcohol and repeat. It was not the most economical way to go about things, to be sure.
“Be a dear and read those aloud for me.” Ilaria turned her attention back to her samples.
@Caesennia Othos
06-09-2024, 08:15 PM
