With quiet deliberation, looking over the paper he took from the man before him, with this, the man stood, he turned on his heel, long fingers brushing his linen apron. He approached the wall of tinctures, eyes scanning the lineup. His fingers hovered briefly over a dark green vial before plucking it free. "Azure snapdragon," he murmured, mostly to himself, "sharp, clean, commanding." He held it up to the light, where a golden tinge hinted at citrus beneath the verdancy.
Moving on. Another vial, this one amber-hued, called to him from a recessed shelf beside a small brass figurine of a fox. “Grapefruit, definitely.” He uncorked it just enough to catch the lift of its sweetness. “Earth root... and yes, a touch of Silver leaf.” He retrieved it without hesitation.
Then to the final shelf, lower, tucked behind a silver-trimmed curtain of velvet. He knelt without creaking floorboards betraying the motion, and his fingers closed around a cobalt blue bottle nestled beside a book of pressed moss samples. "Lemon top," he said softly. "Star Moss beneath. Earth root anchoring the rest. It breathes like rain on soil."
He returned to the polished blackwood table at the center of the room, placing the bottles down with a quiet clink, each one aligned purposefully with an inch of space between them—a deliberate presentation.
Leven straightened his spine, and gestured with a light hand, smooth in nature, his natural ways taking over him. The overwhelming fondness to match a person with their desire.
“The first,” he began, with a calm smooth voice, placing his fingers lightly behind the green bottle, “opens with citrus, orange zest, bright and quick to bloom. But what follows is more enduring… the warmth of marigold wrapping into the Azure Snapdragon. Expect the deeper, more resinous notes to last about two hours, then mellow into something cooler.” The Azure snapdragon would represent the pine scent.
He stepped to the amber vial, expression shifting to something more tender. “This one begins with fresh grapefruit, crisp and soft on the senses. It gently fades into a floral blend with subtle sweetness. The finishing note,” he said, tapping the base, “is earth root, and silver leaf. Dense, radiant. Not overwhelming, more of a presence."
Finally, his fingers curved toward the blue bottle, eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity. “Lemon hits first, refreshing and clean. Then it steps aside, allowing room for the fresh Star moss to expand. The base is earth root,deep, ancient. It clings, but humbly. This one is like walking through a forest at first rain.”
He stepped back, hands folding behind his back. Allowing the man before him to partake in the samples of his work.”All are strong and demanding for..”He looked at the paper within his grasp, nodding.”Your father. All of nature notes, something demanding."
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Where does he get the bottles for the perfume he procures?
This question made the man sigh, clearly he wasn't always happy to announce but a small shrug was made,not appearing to be rude. " I buy from the auction house, odds and ends places when I am in stormwind- or other places. I am on the look out for a glassmaker. I'd like to be able to get better design and if at all possible darker sets of amber for preservation of the fragrances I make, to be able to actually put in words or on paper what design or what not to be created in someone's capable hands. So far, on my end for now, I just gather what I think will attract the eyes."
Describe a day in the life. Then: describe an ideal day in the life—if there's a difference!
The perfumery is both laboratory and sanctuary. Vials line the shelves like soldiers. Each aroma—a language. Earthroot for grounding. Jasmine for the sharp edge of desire. Smoked charcoal for grief no longer spoken of.They find instead a man quiet, refined, guarded behind that gentle voice and heterochromic gaze. Few realize how dangerous he truly is, in weaving scents people only dream of.”A normal day….”
His focus would be on his mixtures who sang with bubbles and rattled with a spin of the glass stir stick. Normally a quiet man on the outside, inside was a different story, careful calculations, notes and scripture laying about the desk, a fine ink pen, his new found love–ready and able to flow when needed.”Early days, late nights. My normal hours are from the break of the sun, till the Worgens howl in the dread of night. I am normally busy constructing the finer valid scents for people, for the unexpecting buyer who would soon rave how the blends meld within their nose.”
A small pause would be made as his eyes now linger on the Bunsen burners flame that danced beneath a now bubbling beaker. He had paused his mixing to answer."An ideal day, this would consist of people telling the truth in their... Pleasures- ranging from drinking, smoking and drug usage. You see, they may not take notice but it changes their smell, their body chemistry itself changes each and every time, they may not take notice but any perfume that they had applied does. Changing it's scent or disappearing all together." He thought for a moment, eyes still watching the dancing flame, he did indeed repeat himself, but it was the finer truth to the matter at hand.
Human bodies are composed of unique combinations of hormones, oils and sweat glands; these components play a major role in influencing how we experience perfume as they react individually to its scent molecules. This took a bigger factor in his own makings for people, considering their skin types, body build and how their body functions on a daily basis, to factor in the pheromones of the sweat glands and how they make the notes sing a different tune for each person.
A mild distasteful look was given as he squinted through his goggles, dripping in the leather extract drop by drop with his glass pipe. He would only allow the lesser of five drops to mix within the wooden scent he had already mixed for the base notes, the hint of herbs popped, the smell almost like the woods themselves filled the room. Mixed with mead and charcoal.
He had to be careful, he had to look, read every note from the person, he had to learn their scent, there was a patch soaked with the person's sweat, he had to memorize and fathom what aromas will soon compliment the client. Lucky for Leven, the person's skin base was oily, already a hint of natural musk that correlated with their finer light scent of pheromones that reminded Leven of singed candle wicks.
Knowing the client's taste, he would have to best match the pheromones the person had naturally, he was not one to hide a natural musk, he wanted to compliment this, he wanted the notes to sing like at their finer moments tangled deeply within a fast paced song.
Taking a tester strip he gently wiped it on the paper to take in the client and wrap it within his own mix now, carefully he used his glass stir stick as gently took a few drops from the bottle, placing it onto the paper now, he sat back, this alone will take time, for the notes to mingle with the natural set.
He glanced at his watch, slowly it ticked. He took up the vial, swirled it and brought it to his nose, the mix of wild berry mead and charcoal, with a light hint of orange to compliment the top note. He took pride in this, it was a good mixture to his keen nose, well after fifteen minutes had passed he lifted the test strip and sniffed it.
“Perfection.”Slipped from his lips in a mutter, clearly proud of this new creation he had whipped up, it takes time, it takes patience, it takes perfection to mix and match notes to compliment each and every person, this was something he enjoyed to the fullest.
