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  SPQR-Republic of Rome
Oasiz Server, Deathstalker Castle / City of Immortalis. 
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​​.....​​​Once upon a time .....
​a lady arrived.
In the City of Immortalis.
Her name? 
 
Mánŏn.  
​Mánŏn 
Guerlain.

She would go on create
​The House of Guerlain, Perfumery. 





The stuff of legend?     Famine or fame ?
Only time would would tell.

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~*~
 19 High Street
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​              
​The House of
                 Guerlain Perfumery.  

    





       




In a world filled with immortals and vampires, kings and queens, princes and princesses,  criminals,  vagabonds and wanderers, fire breathing dragons and shapeshifters, dwarfs and  elves, centaurs and harpys, mermaids and minotaurs, satyrs and assorted winged creatures, etc, etc, and  etc,  I am remarkably unremarkable.

I am simply..... a human.
A woman. 
An artist.
​
I harbor no ill will nor ill intent  towards you. I thank you in advance  yours is to show me the same curtesy.
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​With that said....... do come in then, and be welcome. 

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        liquid perfections.... silent  expressions.

~*~
Working spaces
a tiny  window into   
how perfume is created. 
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~*~
​Second floor living spaces
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​





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Atticus's gift
                  so that I may always have music to dance to.


​Thank you, Atticus.




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~*~
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~*~
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​We go out for a walk, Lilly and I. A little walk about town kind of thing.  Enjoying the sights and sounds, the scents. 
​              Until.

​Lilly  disappears.
                            Only to return with her prize, her steal. Presenting a flower from a Vendor, to me with such a smile who could become angry? 

​She has no coin of course, so I pay up, mollifying the  enraged Vendor.  But. Behind that enraged face, he's laughing. I can tell.  I speak harshly to Lilly about the perils of stealing.  For she would be tasty  fried and served with catsup. 
~*~​

Lilly and I  often wander....
to the Valley of the Horses. 

 While there I harvest wild flowers  growing in rich profusion. ​
The splendor of their scent is  no comparison  to their cultivated cousins. 
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And then we hike to a rocky outcrop to just watch these  majestic creatures at  play on the hills and in the fields   of their sacred valley.






                                                                
  Occasionally ..... I am gifted to ride.
I've no idea who such a generous benefactor could be.  Only a beautiful horse, tacked up,  my name on an otherwise blank envelope attached to the saddle. There is never a signature.  nothing inside the envelope. Not a hint as to who it could be. The script is not by the hand of woman. The strokes  are far too bold.  I am grateful to whomever it may be.
​Lilly stays behind, curled up in a cave,  and dreams of this and that, waiting my return.

                                                                                                                
​
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Other that that, as for  Lilly & me,
                             well....             
       
we  lead quite the simple life.     ​





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                                                                                                      ~*~