03/29/2021

NuiWhakakore
3 Reviews
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NuiWhakakore
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The games evening
The social highlight of the year was coming up again: the big pirate meeting! Not to appear there would have been an affront, which would have meant social death, maybe even the right one. So the captain of the Miss Fortune was there, as every year, even if this year he did not feel the slightest desire to do so.
Because the highlight of the multi-day meeting was the game night. It was held at a different captain's house each year and that captain chose the game. So today they were on the La Buse, the ship of Levasseur, that cretin. A pompous Frenchman who everyone knew was from Switzerland, which of course he didn't admit, pirates from Lake Geneva would be embarrassing.
There were five of them sitting around the big table in the captain's cabin: Levasseur, Blackbeard, the captain, Charles Johnson and Anne Bonny. There used to be six of them, but last year John Taylor had actually proposed chess, whereupon they had summarily sent him walking the plank and barred him for five years.
The host puffed himself up to his full height of 5'5" and began:
"Madame et Monsieur, isch freue misch, euch alle begrüßenän in meine bescheiden Schief. Today we play the best game of them all, baccarat!"
Great, 17 and 4 for people who think they're better than us. That was to be expected from someone like Levasseur. General grumbling could be heard around the table.
"...'ere are the cart, in the color, Rough, because she is favorite color of your host!"
You could have guessed that, given the plush red walls, the captain thought.
"Today we play for a prize, which is this Parföh, isch hab direkte aus Parie."
He pointed to a small, rather unobtrusive bottle in the middle of the table. The enthusiasm of the players was limited, which was probably due to the fact that with his sweeping hand gestures, a gush of dies Parföh flooded through the cabin. It hit them in a fist of sweetly powdery florals that gripped them ironclad and wouldn't let go for the rest of the evening. What spice was involved didn't make it any better - sultry it suddenly was in the cabin, which was quite fitting for the puffed-up pseudo-Frenchman, the captain thought, gagging slightly. Even Backbeard, who could well be described as jaded both physically and mentally, rolled his eyes briefly.
After each player was adequately supplied with drinks, the game got underway. Blackbeard had problems at the beginning with the calculation of the points, with increasing alcohol consumption this became however better, whereby it is also possible that the other players computed in the course of the evening ever more badly and one aligned itself in such a way. The smell of the Parföh did not become better meanwhile, mixed itself only something with the undefined woodiness of the cabin.
The mood was mostly relaxed. Only Johnson attracted attention by more or less hidden obscenities towards Anne Bonny. However, after he painfully felt Anne's dagger in a rather sensitive spot under the table, his demeanor abruptly improved.
"So, Madame et Monsieur, it is late, last roundä! Isch is the banquier."
The cards were dealt, the bets made, everyone calculated their points as best they could at this advanced hour. If truth be told, no one really knew what was being played anymore, the bottles were empty, the sun was already rising.
After counting the points several times, it was clear that the captain had won. Everyone didn't really care, since no one wanted the perfume anyway, except Levasseur, who cursed "Gopferdelli!".
The captain accepted the perfume, of course, thank you, if only to annoy Levasseur, but secretly already thought that on the crossing to his Miss Fortune, yes, something may well fall into the water.
Next year he was the host and two things were already clear:
1. there would be no perfume as a prize, but something sensible, a sabre or a wooden leg or something
2. they would play an honest game, chief dork maybe
------------
Before a review, you're always supposed to name the positives, so here it is: Baccrat Rouge is nowhere near as sweet as I feared it would be. And the durability is really good. And so is the silage. And...no, that's it, unfortunately.
Whereby, the silage is also already such a thing. Personally, this is too much of a good thing, not to say penetrating.
To the fragrance itself: it starts quite floral, jasmine can be recognized, in a very gentle variant. That would actually be positive to evaluate, if not the saffron would come right along with it. This is unfortunately also very gentle, sweetish and little spicy. Saffron can be quite exciting, hot, bitter, earthy even. Not here. At most, it is somewhat medicinal, but not so strong that it would be interesting. In combination with the jasmine, it creates a sweet, powdery, lightly spicy bouquet that I can best describe as oppressive and sultry. This also pulls through the entire fragrance and is thus unfortunately not my thing at all, but you can of course also like.
What really bothers me about the fragrance, however, is the specified cedar wood. I like cedar, it brings but in the best case a limonige freshness and dry-woody spice. Unfortunately, I don't find that here. It is indeed something vaguely woody recognizable, but I would not come on cedar in life. At most, it's a thin cedar veneer on a softwood panel. This is a pity, because some spice and freshness would have done the fragrance very well.
Towards the base, it then becomes a little ambery-sweet, but honestly, is also already no matter...
Love it or hate it, one reads here often. I would not say so. He just doesn't touch me and on balance I find him a bit boring. I hope I'm his fans not too much on the feet stepped!
Because the highlight of the multi-day meeting was the game night. It was held at a different captain's house each year and that captain chose the game. So today they were on the La Buse, the ship of Levasseur, that cretin. A pompous Frenchman who everyone knew was from Switzerland, which of course he didn't admit, pirates from Lake Geneva would be embarrassing.
There were five of them sitting around the big table in the captain's cabin: Levasseur, Blackbeard, the captain, Charles Johnson and Anne Bonny. There used to be six of them, but last year John Taylor had actually proposed chess, whereupon they had summarily sent him walking the plank and barred him for five years.
The host puffed himself up to his full height of 5'5" and began:
"Madame et Monsieur, isch freue misch, euch alle begrüßenän in meine bescheiden Schief. Today we play the best game of them all, baccarat!"
Great, 17 and 4 for people who think they're better than us. That was to be expected from someone like Levasseur. General grumbling could be heard around the table.
"...'ere are the cart, in the color, Rough, because she is favorite color of your host!"
You could have guessed that, given the plush red walls, the captain thought.
"Today we play for a prize, which is this Parföh, isch hab direkte aus Parie."
He pointed to a small, rather unobtrusive bottle in the middle of the table. The enthusiasm of the players was limited, which was probably due to the fact that with his sweeping hand gestures, a gush of dies Parföh flooded through the cabin. It hit them in a fist of sweetly powdery florals that gripped them ironclad and wouldn't let go for the rest of the evening. What spice was involved didn't make it any better - sultry it suddenly was in the cabin, which was quite fitting for the puffed-up pseudo-Frenchman, the captain thought, gagging slightly. Even Backbeard, who could well be described as jaded both physically and mentally, rolled his eyes briefly.
After each player was adequately supplied with drinks, the game got underway. Blackbeard had problems at the beginning with the calculation of the points, with increasing alcohol consumption this became however better, whereby it is also possible that the other players computed in the course of the evening ever more badly and one aligned itself in such a way. The smell of the Parföh did not become better meanwhile, mixed itself only something with the undefined woodiness of the cabin.
The mood was mostly relaxed. Only Johnson attracted attention by more or less hidden obscenities towards Anne Bonny. However, after he painfully felt Anne's dagger in a rather sensitive spot under the table, his demeanor abruptly improved.
"So, Madame et Monsieur, it is late, last roundä! Isch is the banquier."
The cards were dealt, the bets made, everyone calculated their points as best they could at this advanced hour. If truth be told, no one really knew what was being played anymore, the bottles were empty, the sun was already rising.
After counting the points several times, it was clear that the captain had won. Everyone didn't really care, since no one wanted the perfume anyway, except Levasseur, who cursed "Gopferdelli!".
The captain accepted the perfume, of course, thank you, if only to annoy Levasseur, but secretly already thought that on the crossing to his Miss Fortune, yes, something may well fall into the water.
Next year he was the host and two things were already clear:
1. there would be no perfume as a prize, but something sensible, a sabre or a wooden leg or something
2. they would play an honest game, chief dork maybe
------------
Before a review, you're always supposed to name the positives, so here it is: Baccrat Rouge is nowhere near as sweet as I feared it would be. And the durability is really good. And so is the silage. And...no, that's it, unfortunately.
Whereby, the silage is also already such a thing. Personally, this is too much of a good thing, not to say penetrating.
To the fragrance itself: it starts quite floral, jasmine can be recognized, in a very gentle variant. That would actually be positive to evaluate, if not the saffron would come right along with it. This is unfortunately also very gentle, sweetish and little spicy. Saffron can be quite exciting, hot, bitter, earthy even. Not here. At most, it is somewhat medicinal, but not so strong that it would be interesting. In combination with the jasmine, it creates a sweet, powdery, lightly spicy bouquet that I can best describe as oppressive and sultry. This also pulls through the entire fragrance and is thus unfortunately not my thing at all, but you can of course also like.
What really bothers me about the fragrance, however, is the specified cedar wood. I like cedar, it brings but in the best case a limonige freshness and dry-woody spice. Unfortunately, I don't find that here. It is indeed something vaguely woody recognizable, but I would not come on cedar in life. At most, it's a thin cedar veneer on a softwood panel. This is a pity, because some spice and freshness would have done the fragrance very well.
Towards the base, it then becomes a little ambery-sweet, but honestly, is also already no matter...
Love it or hate it, one reads here often. I would not say so. He just doesn't touch me and on balance I find him a bit boring. I hope I'm his fans not too much on the feet stepped!
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