#Flatt Lonesome

[djmurphy]

How come when he’s under the influence of the Pop String Branch’s hair is purple instead of blue (his natural color)?

I based his hair off of how his hair appeared to be purple in True Colors. And I took the color of his hair when he, Poppy, and Biggie were singing that Pop Hits Mash Up in Lonesome Flatts

[blade-that-was-broken]

I would love to hear anything and everything about any of your AUs!

There is soooooo much stuff on all of them that I probably haven’t talked about and my brain just keeps filing more.

Lately my brain has kind of led me to a rock apocalypse au where Thrash starts it and he mostly succeeds. But there’s like different versions. Sometimes things happen a bit normally in the beginning (band break up, Pop trolls escaping the tree, clay with the putt putts) and sometimes it’s more au (no band breakup, possibly no band, some bros stick together but are separated, etc.) so I haven’t landed on a specific thing though.

Like, I’m such a sucker for JD and Branch, it’s so hard not to focus on them cause I feel bad for the other brothers a bit. On the other hand, I’m like, okay but this is for me so why should I care lol

There are a lot of rock zombies but it’s a little different than in the movie, or at least what we know. I’m not sure if Thrash has the pop string so if he doesn’t, the zombification can technically be broken - it’s just very hard.

Most of the troll leaders have been targeted unless their leader isn’t like, super obvious. So the Kings and Queens are definitely targeted first.

There are groups of survivors hiding; the biggest one being idk the Refuge or some boring name like that. Maybe built under the abandoned Lonesome Flatts, using Armadillo buses to dig a cavern system. But since Pop Territory forests are hard to get through and so naturally protective, one of the biggest goals is to try and get everyone there, thinking it’s safe. No one has heard from a pop troll (save JD ish) in years so they think they are all gone.

However, However!

Now that I think about it… I might try some interactive things. Considering I keep changing things, maybe I should kind of open it to the public. Kind of give options and y’all can vote on which way to go. Feel free to ask any questions.

Any interest?

[banjoforpleasure]

🔥Brand New Bluegrass Band! Verdigrass // Flatt Lonesome Cover

[valsnonsense]

Prince Hatchet

“Is it weird that I don’t really like to get wet? I may be half Techno, but I live in the desert! Don’t do cold and wet, no sir! You won’t catch me dead swimmin’ for fun… is that weird?”

Parents: Prince Riff and Councillor Synth

Siblings: Viper (Younger Brother), Lantern (Younger Sibling)

Age: 20

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Demisexual/Biromantic

Genre: Country Rock/Hard Rock

Voice Claim: Gary LeVox (Rascal Flatts)

The eldest son of Prince Riff and Councilman Synth. Suave, easy-going, if not a bit aloof, Hatchet prefers to spend his time laying back in a hammock while strumming his guitar, singing sad love songs.

Hatchet is the lead guitarist and singer in a country rock band called Mischief Flats, consisting of him, three country trolls, and one pop troll. Hatchet fell in love with country music on his first visit to Lonesome Flats, and later began to mix it with rock music. He spent a lot of his time performing in Lonesome Flats, where he caught the attention of several other trolls, and eventually formed a band.

When he isn’t performing or practicing, Hatchet is lazing about. Despite how dedicated he is to his band and career, outside of that, he’s a bit of a lazy oaf. He hates work of any kind, preferring to spend his time napping or reading. His popularity gets him many invites to social events and parties, which he usually declines. Can’t chill with an ice cold peach tea if he’s at some bar hyping up groupies, now can he?

As stated above, Hatchet is a Country-Rock troll. He loves how heartfelt and sad country music is, and wanted to see what it’d sound like with a few guitar riffs. He spends a lot of his spare time brain-storming new song ideas, and often finds them by reading sad romance novels.

Hatchet is very close with his family, and was super grateful when they were so supportive of his music-career. He loved playing the guitar for his younger siblings when they were kids, and often sang them lullabies.

Hatchet currently resides in Lonesome Flats, but can be found frequently in Trollstopia visiting family.

Fun Facts!

- Hatchet is a huge bookworm, specifically for sad romance novels. He actually asked Clay for recommendations once, while led to him walking out of a gathering with a pile of about ten books in his arms. He read every single one, and bawled during each.

- Hatchet may be half Techno, but he doesn’t like getting wet. His Rock genes are more prominent in him, leading to him having the more lizard-like skin, which is resistant to water. He can swim and such, but the texture of being wet just makes him uncomfortable.

- Hatchet was raised in Trollstopia, but moved to Lonesome Flats when he reached adulthood to be closer to his bandmates, who all lived in Lonesome Flats. He was sad to leave his dads and siblings, but they were very supportive of him moving to pursue his career. Papa Synth shed the most tears when he left, Hatchet was his first baby after all

And that’s Hatchet, the first of my Rynth babies (Riff/Synth ship name figured out yay!). I based Hatchet and his siblings designs on those crazy fluorescent lizards that can fan out their skin, and his name is actually based off a bioluminescent fish, the marine hatchetfish! Hatchet is also the troll I accidentally gave too much fucking rizz. Like look at the man. He could pull a bunch of hotties if he wanted to slkfjdlsk. And why country rock? I was listening to life is a highway when I was designing him xD

Edit: OH! Forgot to mention, he's a prince cuz in this AU, Riff is Barb's younger brother the prince of rock

Voice Example: Life Is A Highway (Rascal Flatts)

[starkbey]

[ledenews]

Country Music Legend Marty Stuart and His Fabulous Superlatives Returning to the Capitol Theatre

Marty Stuart and His Fabulous Superlatives are returning to Wheeling’s Capitol Theatre on Saturday, November 23rd. The country music legend has been named by Rolling Stone magazine as, “One of the last remaining links to traditional country, roots, and the generation of greats like George Jones and Hank Williams.” Pre-sale tickets are available for pre-sale on Thursday, August 8th at 10:00am with the password CAPITOL. Tickets are on sale beginning Friday, August 9th at 10:00am. The Country Music Hall of Famer, five-time Grammy-winner, and AMA Lifetime Achievement honoree picks up where he left off on Altitude, his first new album in five years, exploring a cosmic country landscape populated by dreamers and drifters, misfits and angels, honky-tonk heroes and lonesome lovers. There’s a desert flare to the music here, a sweeping, spacious feel that conjures up wide-open horizons and endless stretches of two-lane highway, and the production is raw and cinematic to match, tipping its cap both to Bakersfield and Laurel Canyon as it balances jangle and twang in equal measure. While it would be easy for an artist as accomplished as Stuart to rest on his laurels, Altitude instead showcases the work of a searcher with an insatiable appetite for growth and reflection, one whose ambition, much like his keen wit and rich imagination, only seems to grow with each and every release. Born and raised in Philadelphia, MS, Stuart got his start in bluegrass legend Lester Flatts’ band at the tender age of thirteen, and by twenty-one, he was working in the studio and on the road with Johnny Cash. Though Stuart built his early reputation backing up royalty, it wasn’t long before Nashville recognized him as a star in his own right, and over the course of forty-plus years as a solo artist, he would go on to release more than twenty major label albums, scoring platinum sales, hit singles, and just about every honor the industry could bestow along the way. Read the full article

[sorensenmandolins]

So proud and delighted that CMT's "Favorite Albums of 2017" list includes TWO new albums featuring Sorensen VX mandolins ! ! !

The Grascals' "Before Breakfast" with Danny Roberts on his Sorensen VX prototype. Flatt Lonesome's "Silence In These Walls" with Kelsi Harrigill on her custom Sorensen VX mandolin.

[barefootonthemoss]

This year's South Branch Valley Bluegrass Festival was perfect and fantastic like it is every year. 💙  Here's a video I did of our 9th annual festival. Remember: it's always the last weekend in June. 😊

[talented-musicians]

New Guitar Gif music, guitar, hands, siriusxm, bluegrass, play guitar, flatt lonesome, flattlonesome via Giphy http://ift.tt/2mnmXOC

[riseofthecommonwoodpile]

We end this round on the last day of the year. A lot of ups and downs in this one! The most albums I've ever deleted from my iTunes, but also i think the most 9.0's or higher i've given in one of these too.

doing this silly little project, I have listened to 515 albums this year that I probably wouldn't have listened to otherwise. so thank you to everyone who has suggested things when i post those lists. It says a lot about just how big my music backlog was that i think it will take until the end of 2022 until i'm actually done...and can start adding in new albums to my iTunes. or maybe i'll just add new stuff as i go, and rotate as i go? either way, thanks. that's so much fucking music.

I Am a Lake of Burning Orchids- Valediction (8.0/10)

Internet Club- Redefining the Workplace (7.0/10)

Iannis Xenakis- Kraanerg (8.0/10)

James Brown- Live at the Apollo (8.0/10)

Jason Crumer- Ottoman Black (8.5/10)

Kazumoto Endo- While You Were Out (9.0/10)

Lester Flatt & Earl Scruggs- Foggy Mountain Banjo (9.0/10)

Lindsheaven Virtual Plaza- Transversal Worldwide Shopping (9.0/10)

Luciano Berio- Sequenzas I-XIV (8.0/10)

Madonna- True Blue (8.0/10)

Mariya Takeuchi- Variety (7.5/10)

Meat Loaf- Bat Out of Hell (8.5/10)

Men at Work- Business as Usual (8.0/10)

Merzbow- Bloody Sea (7.0/10)

Merzbow- Merzbird (5.5/10, deleted from iTunes)

Merzbow- Sphere (8.0/10)

Merzbow- 1930 (8.5/10)

Midnight Television- Midnight Television (3.0/10, deleted from iTunes)

Mike Patton- Adult Themes for Voice (7.0/10)

Neil Young- Time Fades Away (8.0/10)

Nina Simone- High Priestess of Soul (8.5/10)

Nurse With Wound- To the Quiet Men from a Tiny Girl (6.0/10)

Pere Ubu- Dub Housing (10/10)

The Pogues- Rum, Sodomy, & the Lash (8.5/10)

Prince- Dirty Mind (9.0/10)

PrismCorp Virtual Enterprises- Home: Complete Edition (6.0/10, deleted from iTunes)

Prurient- Palm Tree Corpse (8.0/10)

Prurient- Rose Pillar (6.0/10)

Prurient- Time’s Arrow (6.0/10, deleted from iTunes)

Prurient- Troubled Sleep (7.0/10)

Prurient- Unmasking the Insect (5.0/10, deleted from iTunes)

The Red Krayola- God Bless the Red Krayola and All Who Sail With It (9.0/10)

The Replacements- Tim (7.5/10)

Roscoe Holcomb- The High Lonesome Sound (9.0/10)

Sissy Spacek- Freaked With Jet (6.5/10)

The Smiths- The Queen is Dead (9.0/10)

Son House- Father of the Delta Blues: The Complete 1965 Sessions (8.5/10)

Steve Reich- Drumming (9.5/10)

Sylvester- Step II (8.0/10)

Tom Waits- Heartattack and Vine (8.5/10)

Willie Nelson- Stardust (8.0/10)

식료품groceries- 슈퍼마켓Yes! We're Open (9.0/10)

死夢VANITY- Evening Bliss (7.5/10)

01100001 S.T.A.R.D.U.S.T. Subsidiary- Arcadia Campus: Virtual Tour (8.5/10)

[bttrflyblu]

Flatt Lonesome "Game of Thrones (Main Theme)

[blade-that-was-broken]

Branch didn’t know what happened.

One moment he had been singing and dancing next to Poppy in a medley mashup of songs on display for the dismayed and unimpressed country trolls of Lonesome Flatts to cheer them up. The next, he was standing in a half destroyed building, vision clouded with dust amidst the destruction the rock trolls rained down on them.

He didn’t know how anything happened.

All he could do was stand in that little partially destroyed building, staring blankly. Seeing everything and yet nothing at all. Branch didn’t know how long it took his brain to comprehend that he had been separated from Poppy. Some kind of country troll had dragged her and Biggie out into the canyon - to safety. Branch didn’t know if the troll didn’t see him, didn’t care or was plain unable to save him but it didn’t matter. As long as Poppy was safe. The booms of explosions and wood splintering sharply pierced his ears in constant repetition as what Branch assumed was the Rock trolls continued their assault. The country trolls must have put up a pretty good fight, as Branch had no idea how long it kept up for but it felt like eternity. He could do nothing but hear the sound of wood breaking, snapping and people screaming.

There was so much screaming.

Were the rock trolls hurting anyone?

Were people dying?

There was something eerily familiar about all of this, to an extent. His mind closing up and forcing him to stay still, stay quiet, to not move a muscle. To not speak a word, make a sound. It wasn’t a good thing to do, as the half destroyed building he was in decided to collapse in on itself from the mere force of a shake of the ground across town, falling so quickly, it nearly crushed him. Someone took his arm and dragged him out into the open behind the building, nearly tearing his arm out of his socket. The sky was gray and cloudy, smoke filtering in the air above. He could see one of the rock troll’s warships, something that looked like a giant denim fish, its maw open and spitting out destruction.

He was turned to look at his rescuer. It was the woman who threw him and Poppy in jail, he remembered. A redhead with a plaid top and a stunning guitar. There was a gash on her face, blood dripping down the side and soot covered her cheeks and bright hair. She was saying something, Branch could see her lips moving, but all he could hear was the ringing. An explosion must have gone off too close to him. She didn’t wait for him to respond and cantered away, Branch in tow. Behind the main street, to an outskirt of town, she brought him to a cemetery.

And pushed him towards a tomb.

Branch shook his head.

“-have to!” her voice finally filtered through his ears, although it sounded distant and like it was underwater. Out of the corner of his eye, another building was decimated and fire carved into the ground. Branch had seen what Rock had done to the classical trolls and Symphonyville. He wondered if they hated the country trolls as much. He wondered how much they hated what he was, a pop troll. He wondered if they had already hit his village. If there was anything or anyone left.

“I don't…I’m not…” his own voice sounded so weak and so foreign to him.

“It’s empty,” she yelled and pushed him towards the door. She didn’t give him a lot of choice as she forced him inside a tiny stone building. The floor was cold but surprisingly dry. He tried to turn, to face her or to get out but she blocked his path. “Get in and don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe.” She stared at him for a second before closing the door. He stared as darkness once again filled his vision. It wasn’t sealed and Branch had a niggling feeling that if he had the will and strength, he could get out if he really wanted to.There was daylight peeking in through the top and bottom of the door but that wasn’t enough light for Branch to see.

The explosions and fire continued but they were more in the distance, allowing Branch’s ears to begin to calm and hear once again. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there for but eventually the explosions quieted into nothing and his feet ached. At least she hadn’t tossed him into a casket. Most of the cemetery was inhabited by them. Once the silence dragged on for a significant amount of time, Branch turned to face the inside of the little building. He was met with near darkness, the only light coming from a sliver around the door and a streak of light in the ceiling. He took a step forward. He thought his foot groaned in protest.

With his hands as a guide, he found the stone walls and his brows furrowed as he realized they were carved. His breath was shaking and he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t know any country trolls at all, much less personally. Nonetheless, he ran his hand around the carvings until he found what appeared to be a name. He traced it, drawing around the engraving. He stuttered, almost scraping his finger on the rock.

Spruce.

He calmed himself quickly, taking his hand away. Lots of trolls were named after nature things. There was no reason to panic. It was just a coincidence. Branch hadn’t thought about his brother in a long time. It was easy after so much time. He wondered if it was easy for Spruce too, since so much time had passed.

Moving on, Branch ran his hand down the hall to the next box, finding the next name. His breath caught.

Clay.

Branch’s mind began to race in thoughtless nothings as he continued, almost frantically, his hands shaking. It had to be a coincidence. There was no way that this was real. He found the back wall and moved over to the other side. He quickly found the name and let his fingers trace it, harshly. And then he let out a choked sob.

Floyd.

He turned towards the door, the light from it barely illuminating the edges of the hall of the tomb. Not daring to move to the last one - the one he knew whose name had to be carved - he backed up, his shoulders slamming into the wall behind him. He could barely breathe, his vision was almost cloudy again. His shoulder brushed against something metal and he figured out it was a torch. He lit it and the tomb grew brighter with the new source of light. He could see the stone faces now, with the names carved into them but he focused on Floyd’s only, the one in front of him. Looking at the others too would be far too much. He could see the name carved in the flat rock, clearly handwritten and hand carved but neat and tidy too. With some force, he made himself open it. He had to know. It was empty. Nothing but dust, stone and a few trinkets. Branch let out a long, shaky breath.

Nothing.

What a cruel joke this was.

The tomb door opened and the redhead country troll was standing there, her face smeared with blood and soot and perhaps even tears. Her hands were dark with it and he could barely tell that her clothes used to be plaid. The only reason he knew they were was because he saw it before. It was an odd thing to think, to notice, but it was all his brain was really processing. “What is this?” he demanded, his voice choking and shaking. The words came out before his brain could catch up. He wanted to know.

He feared the answer.

He didn't want to know.

Her eyes flickered around with a bit of a sad frown. “A memorial. And also none of your business. Come on. Barb is gone but we have to go.”

“Why?” he asked, but he followed her anyway. There was little else to do but follow her. She may have thrown him in jail - and then an apparently empty tomb - but she hadn't beat him up or killed him yet, so he had a feeling she wasn't going to. She had gotten him away from the rock trolls. To at least some extent, they were on the same side. He wanted to ask about the empty tombs. Were they really his brothers? Did she know them? How did she know all of them? He thought that they went separate ways after they had left. He was already so shaken up about it and he wasn’t even sure if he could know how to ask.

“She’s gonna realize Pete ain’t the mayor,” the woman admitted with a frown as she continued to walk. He had no idea where they were going but he kept up. He tried to keep his eyes and attention on her instead of the smoldering destruction around them. Some buildings were reduced to ashes, others still falling down. Embers and smoke billowed from the ground and grass, some still on fire. He knew there was cruel words carved into them and into the walls of the standing buildings. He saw them before and he didn't want to look. “And she’ll find out real quick he don’t have our string.”

Branch tried to remember who Pete was but then he wondered why he was trying to guess at all. It didn't really matter. Somehow, the leader of the country trolls had gotten away from the Queen of Rock and it sounded like because she thought she had gotten to their leader - and therefore, the string. King Peppy didn't carry the Pop string around (he still didn't agree with Poppy doing so) but from what Pennywhistle said about the Conductor of the classical trolls, he kept his in his conductor stick. Or whatever it was. So perhaps some tribes did carry it with them. He wondered if that made a difference. “Does he know where it is?”

She shook her head.

"Do you have it?"

"No?"

“Is it safe?”

Branch didn’t even know if his own string was safe. Not that the pop string was his but he was a pop troll, so he did have some loyalty to it. He was surprised that the woman answered his questions with little suspicion but rather more resigned exhaustion and righteous anger. It was a strange combination, but it appeared that it wasn't directed at him. He could deal with that. The woman continued to avoid the debris and weave around the buildings and what was left of them. He had no idea where they were going. She shot him a glance, looking almost amused. “Let’s just say Barb won’t find it.”

“Why?”

“Because she’ll never think to look where it is hidden,” she added as Branch trotted up a little closer to her. He wasn't entirely sure where to walk, since she had four legs and a pair of arms. It was a lot of limbs. He was curious, however, to know of the place that no one would look for such a powerful relic. He figured that every tribe kept it close - not just to protect it - but also because it was the source of their music. “No one would.”

He didn’t know what that meant but he'd like to know. He loved learning new things, especially about defense and hiding. He spared a glance around, finally. He realized there was battlements and weapons, pieces of things that he knew couldn't be associated with Rock trolls. So, the Country Trolls had put up quite the fight and definitely took a bite out of their enemy. Good for them. It didn't matter so much, in the end, as everyone was still caught. Perhaps in a fair fight, things would be more even and harder to predict the outcome. Then again, fair rights didn't occur in invasion and war. And the power of the strings, it appeared, made her grow more powerful with more destruction at her disposal. “She could destroy everything in the world to find it.” He didn’t know if this was true or not. He didn’t really know Barb but he had seen how ruthless and destructive she was. He had a feeling he couldn’t be that far off.

“We need to get to it first,” she said as she came up on a little cabin, untouched by the destruction but still abandoned. Large spider horses were corralled there, skittering nervously. It was a miracle the fences hadn't been destroyed by the bombs or earthquakes but then again, it was a bit far from the main street as well. She expertly tied one to a wagon and gestured for Branch to board. It was like he blinked, and it was done. That was so fast. They didn't have these creatures where he was from but he'd love to know about the knots and harnesses she used. “I know a shortcut but there is a change of clothes in the back.”

Branch looked down at himself. He was covered in dust, grime and soot. As she started to get moving, he took a moment to adjust to the trip and then he took her advice and put on some clothes, a new pair of pants, an undershirt and a neat vest. It was nice; he kind of liked it. After he was done, she changed as well and then they were both sitting up front, already well on their way. He doesn’t mind the silence and neither does she, apparently, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

“Why did you save me?”

“Barb hates pop trolls more than us country folk," she replied. "Honestly, you just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I woulda done it for anyone,” she assured, not sparing him a glance. She tapped the reins on the animal’s back and the legs hurried the pace.

“But you hate me, my music. You threw us in jail!”

She shot him a curious glance, almost unamused. “I’ll admit, I’m not a fan of your mashup.”

Okay, fair.

“But ya’ll needed a serious timeout,” she continued sternly, shaking her head. “Ya’ll interrupted a funeral.”

“W-What?!”

“Born to Die was the requested song for the funeral you and yur friends literally crashed,” she explained, with a frown. “That… those songs you sang were not appropriate for the time of mourning. Or even the time of celebration of his life. Which woulda been later. Still wouldn’t have been right.”

Branch gaped. “I…I didn’t know. I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

“I kinda figured you didn’t know,” she shrugged, and Branch was amazed on how easy it was for her to let this go. She had called it a timeout. Was that even a jail cell? What was she going to do after their so called timeout if Barb hadn't come in and attacked first? Maybe she would have been open to sitting down and talking with Poppy. “I was gonna have my husband talk to ya when he got back. To explain and such. He’d want to meet ya anyway, ya’ll bein pop trolls and all.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Oh, it’s cause…” she drifted off, staring in the distance. A small set of buildings were billowing in smoldering flames and black smoke. They were too late. The woman urged the spider horse and wagon faster until they were at the edge of the wreckage.

It was worse than Lonesome Flatts.

The buildings were entirely reduced to ash.

“This is where the string was?” Branch asked as the two of them jumped down. While Lonesome Flatts had put up a fight, this little place didn't stand a chance. They probably never saw it coming. He hoped everyone was okay. This looked terrible. There was virtually nothing to salvage. He wondered why this was the place the woman thought Barb would never think to look. It looked pretty normal to him. The woman walked forward with a nod, almost tripping on something. She leaned down and picked it up. It was a machete blade, dirty with soot and ash. She smoothed it away, her reflection cleaning in the blade. He looked away. The way she stared at it - it looked personal. “So Barb has it then.”

“Technically… yes.”

“I…. technically?” He looked back at her.

“She might now know she has it,” the woman turned to face him, strapping a sheath around her waist and securing the blade to her. He looked at her curiously, obviously not understanding. She frowned. “My husband has it right now and out of all of my people, he’s the least expected to have it. I don’t think Barb could suspect he’s the one in possession of it. I have to go after him - him, my people, my string. My music. You don’t have to come with my sugah.”

Branch paused. He had no idea where he was. What to do. “Poppy… my… the Pop Queen. She has my map. Even if I had it, I’m not sure how I’d get home. Barb probably has already taken my people like she has yours. We don’t stand a chance against this level of destructive force. Our best bet is to work together and get Barb. To get everyone’s string back.”

“Then let’s ride.”

****

They don’t talk much as they travel on the wagon, although Branch was suddenly bouncing with questions. He found out her name was Delta Dawn, although she didn’t ask for his name and he didn’t offer it. She seemed content on calling him strange little nicknames but apparently, that was normal in their culture. He also learned that she was the leader of the country trolls but beyond that, there wasn’t much. It would be quite some time before Branch gathered the courage to try and start a real conversation. “That song you sang? Born to Die? It was beautiful but… really sad.”

“Life is sad at times. Grief can be expressed and worked through with music, like all emotions,” she replied, steadily, urging her beasts to go faster. They obliged. As small as they were, they seemed rather hardy and always willing to keep moving upon request. Branch rarely saw that in their own transportation critters. He wondered if she could teach him how she did that. “There is a futility in life few understand, much less wish to speak about. It’s easier in song.”

“But you do?”

“I know a bit,” she admitted but he knew she wasn’t going to elaborate how or why. He could understand that. Branch wasn’t sure if he could explain or talk about how he felt about the futility of life with himself. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to. “But mostly country trolls do. To an extent, at least. Some more than others.”

“I… when I was a child, I lived a very futile life,” he said, uneasily. “And after it, after I technically escapade it, I hung onto it, onto the hopelessness and I refused to even let the notion of possibly letting myself be happy come to mind. I lived in my fear so much I dug so deep.”

“Survivin’, not livin’.”

“Yeah… that’s a way to put it,” he agreed with a frown. He was still learning the difference, he supposed. “It took me a long time and some outside help to be convinced I didn’t have to live that way. That I shouldn’t let that fear and hopelessness control and rule me.”

“It can be a hard mindset to break,” Delta nodded and Branch was getting the feeling she understood probably more than she let on. Whether it was about herself or someone she knew, she understood it intimately. “But it’s good ya did.”

“It took decades.”

“Sometimes it does.”

He blinked, surprised.

He wondered how long would be long enough to make her surprised. She said it so plainly, like that was nothing. Or maybe it was something to feel an accomplishment. After so long thinking one way, he finally broke free. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t really quite understand her but he’d like to. “Something’s just take time, darlin’.”

“But decades?”

“Mindsets, hopelessness, grief, they demand time. Some more than others. And everyone is different with it too. Loneliness can be a real killer of healing, especially when you don’t let anyone in. Mindsets and habits can be hard to break. Even longer to heal from.”

“It appears so.”

“If we survive this, there are a few trolls I can introduce to you too. They may be able to give you some insight. A couple 'a them have a GriefShare class you might find some wisdom and help in.”

Was he still grieving his grandmother, after twenty years? He felt blame and shame and hurt but he had accepted her loss a long time ago.

“I’m not… grieving anyone.”

Was it a lie? He wasn’t sure.

He wondered if he was grieving his brothers now that he had seen the memorial the Country Trolls had for them.

He had so many questions but wasn't sure how to ask. Or if he even wanted to. It hurt.

“You can grieve more than just a lost person,” she said, gently. This was something she knew keenly as well. She wasn’t hiding it either. “Lost time, lost childhood, lost memories, there are many things you can grieve for. We all do. Country Trolls have just found good ways to work through that grief, share it, express it, remember.”

“The memorial?”

“No bodies to bury.”

“Did you… know them well?”

The words felt numb on his tongue. He wasn’t sure what he was asking.

“I never got to meet them, no,” she responded tightly. But they were something that meant something to her, Branch thought. He had no idea how. He wondered where she had met his brothers, how they became close. At least, if that was what the memorial was for. He was hard pressed to believe that it was a coincidence that two groups of troll brothers shared the same names. “I have had the honor to have heard memories and carry that within me.”

Branch didn’t know what to say so he didn’t say anything. But he wondered how she knew, where she knew, what she knew. She spoke with such a personal touch, she must have met them, even though she claimed to have never met them. He didn’t know how else she would know.

He didn’t want to think about dead brothers anymore.

“Get some sleep, sugah. I’ll wake ya when it’s time.”

He didn’t fight her and laid down to get some rest.

[fangirlstarot]

FIVE OF CUPS: THE PLAYLIST

Loss. Bereavement. Depression.

1. Depression - Nakuu (feat. Young Verse) 2. Gloomy Sunday - Billie Holiday 3. Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now - The Smiths 4. Mad World - Gary Jules 5. Til It Happens To You - Lady Gaga 6. Real Death - Mount Eerie 7. Not A Day Goes By - Lonestar 8. What Hurts The Most - Rascal Flatts 9. Hurt - Johnny Cash 10. World Spins Madly On - The Weepies 11. Sorrow - Flyleaf 12. It Doesn't Matter - Alison Krauss 13. Mama's Arms - Joshua Kadison 14. Sad Sad World - Sheryl Crow 15. I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry - Al Green 16. The Sound Of Silence - Simon & Garfunkel 17. When She Cries - Britt Nicole 18. As Tears Go By - Nancy Sinatra 19. Flirted With You All My Life - Vic Chesnutt 20. Cry - Kelly Clarkson

[thatbanjobusiness]

Okay but when I say “keep the high tenor in bluegrass music,” this is the tenor I mean. Fuckin’ WAIL it, y’all! Make it high and make it lonesome!

Samples maybe poorly picked, but at any rate come from Bill Monroe and His Blue Grass Boys with the Father of Bluegrass badassly hitting the top of my -- a mezzosoprano’s -- comfortable vocal range; Flatt & Scruggs (though ironically I forgot a sample of Flatt singing higher... >.<) and the Foggy Mountain Boys with tenors or high baritones (because tenor wasn’t high enough) Jake Tullock, Curly Seckler, and Hilo Brown; Jimmy Martin and the Sunny Mountain Boys with Paul Williams singing tenor; Jim & Jesse; the Del McCoury Band with Del going high; the Stanley Brothers with Ralph Stanley taking the tenor; and the Osborne Brothers with Bobby Osborne singing.

BRING. THIS. BACK. DUDES.

[cantstopthebroppy]

I love how Branch was all nervous and hesitant about singing and dancing in Lonesome Flatts but then Poppy starts singing Wannabe and he’s still a little hesitant but then she’s like “I’ll tell you what I want (Points at him) what I really *smirks* really want.” And he’s like:

OH IT BE LIKE THAT. WELL I REALLY WANT YOU TOO NOW THAT YOU MENTION IT. I’LL SING WHATEVER YOU WANT BAE.

[garudabluffs]

https://youtu.be/fUnD6GA6dkw?list=PLgxfmvdeKpH6pWBTXlyjBhdC38xEzt7M4

New Day playing at Dollywood’s Barbecue and Bluegrass Festival on the Back Porch Theater.

Flatt Lonesome - "You're The One" - Radio Bristol Sessions