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azure-steel · 3 years

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@mercyxkilling said: “can i kiss you?” other crew members be damned, she didn’t care. let them have their show if they wanted to watch. Send "Can I kiss you?" to see how my muse responds - No Longer Accepting

Pls accept and enjoy this lil ficlet about these babs. Because of you my adoration for this franchise has be revived TENFOLD and I just can’t get enough of these two being so disgustingly adorable together.

I adore you and your amazing muse so much, and I should tell you more (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

It All Happens In The Mess Hall~Cloud x Mercy a Mass Effect Story.

It was possibly the one place aboard Mercy’s ship where Cloud spent the majority of his time, that and this was where his relationships with the rest of the crew members began to gain any real traction. A neutral ground where it became so very apparent that almost every member of this ragtag group was here for the same reason. To earn a few credits and perhaps sate a thirst for a little adventure.

And they all loved their captain with every fibre of their being.

Cloud had spent the initial weeks of his time amongst the crew largely by himself, but this was nothing really new; naturally coy the task of attempting to relate to others was laborious at best. Even as a member of T’Loak’s court had he been a man one on his own, not that there was any love lost there whatsoever. It had never truly been a problem, not when alcohol and red sand was in copious supply and enough of an escape from the arduous day to day life living amongst the rest of the filth occupying the Omega station. Moreover this environment was so wholly different, wholesome almost, to a fault, and the longer he spent on the outside of this tight-knit collective, the longing to be included began to eat away at him. Often would he remove himself from the hall when the crew would filter in, sensing all those eye puncturing the flesh between otherwise broad shoulders. They didn’t trust him, and they had every reason to be wary.

Shotgun - a battle worn Krogan mercenary - was the first to approach him here in the mess hall, though it was after Cloud had all but shit himself believing this guy was about to pop his head like a zit (Listen... this bastard is BIG and looks very angry almost always, can’t blame a guy for feeling just a tad intimidated beneath his shadow) that he came to realise Shotgun was very interested in the firearm he was servicing at that time.

A rather worn and very well loved M-300 Claymore - A Krogan weapon.

A common ground was established in that moment, taking root and from that grew an unlikely friendship between them, and for a time the pair were seemingly inseparable. It was the first time in a long while in which Cloud was reduced to fits of laughter at the Krogan’s many stories, and, boy, did he have a lot of those. Maybe some were a little far fetched and embellished, but it really didn’t matter. The guy was hilarious, and Strife very much enjoyed his company, even if the guy liked to overshare on occasion. Discovering that male Krogan have four testicles dangling between their legs was enough nightmare fuel to keep the blond awake for two nights straight after the fact. And needless to say maintaining eye contact with Shotgun had been a little more difficult than usual for a few days until Strife had eventually gotten over himself. At least he knew where the term ‘QUADS’ originated now...

No wonder Krogan were so pissed about the Genophage, all things considered of course; these guys were clearly breeding machines as well as living breathing tanks, evolved over millennia for the very purpose of brutal warfare, civil or otherwise. It seemed the Salarians and the Turians had a lot to answer for.

Still, oversharing and absurd knowledge about alien reproductive organs aside, the mess hall, and Shotgun’s kinship was the beginning of Cloud’s gradual unification with the rest of the team. As far as he was concerned, Mercy had very little to do with that aspect, though he knew very little of the woman and what gears she was working behind the scenes. He was, unfortunately not privy to the private smiles she kept hidden in the shadows when she would spy his social development amongst the men she cared so deeply for; he had no true reason at that point to believe she even cared about it. Though Cloud had every reason to figure that simply having him onboard, despite the toxic levels of contention his presence here initially - and unsurprisingly - wrought, was enough for her men to decide that he was, at the very least, useful; a first for him really.

But Shotgun had done well to push open the door left ajar by their comrades and gave Cloud a golden opportunity to further still this usefulness he’d never been able to appreciate before now. He would help Vinnie during meal prep even if Cloud was only the busboy for the most part, setting tables, clearing them, washing dishes; all part and parcel of mucking in as it were and it seemed the older guy appreciated the aid. And the Turian Brothers - Adavixus and Artisius - would sometimes invite him to play in their tournaments of Numerfictil whenever Cloud was present in the mess; a game very similar to dominoes where decorative tiles with strange symbols were used to beat those already placed upon the board. It took a while for Strife to learn what each symbol meant, but the brother’s persevered with the highest level of patience. Other crew mates would join on occasion, bringing to the table cloudy bottles of homebrewed lager fermented from alien fruits beneath one of many heating vents on the ship; often pungent, almost always violently potent in which contests between the humans were born to see who could stomach the most ‘poison’ in one sitting.

Cloud almost always lost those bets and would suffer greatly for them the following day. Though never would he complain, even when the hangover rendered him practically useless and crumpled agonisingly deep in the darkest recesses of the communal shower block. To be gathered amongst comrades around the smallest table in the mess, to be shunted playfully via the shoulders and included in the guffaws and jests from the mouths of men hailing from all walks of life and the far reaches of the galaxy, he’d be stupid to trade it in for anything else. They’d dubbed him Strifey - and he liked that more than he cared to mention. To be included, to form meaningful bonds, for all of his sorry life, that was all he’d ever wanted and it had taken him until now to even realise it.

He was beginning to like it here, along with all the colourful people surrounding him. How strange it felt to begin associating a star-fairing ship as home.

The trust was building, and for the first time for as long as he could even dare to recall, Cloud was being greeted with welcoming nods, hard slaps to the shoulder and raised hands on his commute to the days tasks either in the mess or the engine room where Darius resided, a rather strapping Italian-American man honing a booming voice but with the patience of a doting father teaching his son how to maintain the family vehicle. He was beginning to enjoy the eyewatering stink of engine oil and general man stink, and Darius was all about teaching his new protégé everything he could about ‘Nova’s’ inner workings and how to maintain her.

Even his relationship with the previously emotionally elusive captain had begun to flourish. In the beginning Cloud was under no illusion that his biotic abilities were of some great interest to her. She honed similar attributes even if her gift was granted to her under very different circumstances. Yet Mercy would pick at him, complain about the state of his armour - as shoddy as it was but fit like an old favourite slipper hence his reluctance to do anything about it - though with an air of comedic affection laced from an otherwise viciously sharp tongue. On occasion she would reprimand him when his performance was lacklustre, when his actions or lack thereof became detriment to the collective of her crew. He didn’t like those days, to be reminded of his flaws and failings, and yet, from those instances began what could be considered a strange flurry of respect for a woman deemed hostile from anyone on the outside looking in. Because never in those instances did she beat him down, but drove into him how she didn’t believe he was better than what he was giving, but that she knew it to be true. Another instance where, for the first time, he was given food for thought, something to chew and improve on.

Some hard lessons were learned this way, and her methods were brutal often resulting in volatile spats the whole ship could hear, yet somehow Mercy seemed to know that a firm hand was needed to keep the newest member of her team grounded, and no mistake was ever repeated twice. Yet after all of that, apologies for her hard hitting words would be delivered mostly without fail, once again, in the comfort of the mess hall. Cloud, of course, would take them with the upmost humility. She was the captain after all, her word aboard her ship, was as good as the word of any God.

Despite all of this, with every mission Strife would be on the front lines with her, standing down heavy fire from the enemy and teaming up with this formidable and outrageously powerful woman to deliver precise and deadly attacks. And it was the culmination of that power, coupled with the harsh demands to be better where a whole new problem began to develop deep in the recesses of his cluttered head. Cloud didn’t recognise it at first, all he knew for certain was he was frustrated, and Mercy’s presence seemed to aggravate that issue exponentially. It wasn’t until she invited a stranger into her cabin some weeks after that the penny finally dropped.

He was falling for her. And the sight of her bringing that man into her intimate space was a pain like no other, so much so that it fractured something inside of him he wasn’t sure he could even fix.

White-hot jealousy began to override his good senses, unable to shake the notion that it wasn’t him occupying the spaces in her bed, and throwing himself into work was doing so very little to alleviate the devastation of - once again - being on the outside looking inward. Wishing to be a part of something so very far out of his reach.

But what could he do? Cloud knew of other crew members trying their luck and getting knocked back. He didn’t think he could handle that level of humiliation, and so he settled into a foul gloomy limbo of wanting her and never being able to have her. Residing to live vicariously through his own sexual fantasies and fucking his pillow whenever he was alone. Pathetic didn’t even come close to how he viewed his own behaviour, when he was reserved and snippy with her, yet utterly miserable was much closer to the truth than he truly wanted to admit, even to himself. Strife had even tried Mercy’s methods of attempting to deal with his predicament, inviting attractive tail onto her ship with the intent of getting his end away in a bid to alleviate the intolerable pressure building in his loins. A failed attempt at best when all he was able to talk about was his disdain for his captain and how she made him feel so damn desperate. Needless to say that instance was a flop at its very finest.

It was Mercy he wanted, not some loose broad dragged in from a club. No one else's interest could even come close to what he wanted from her.

Though it wasn’t long after that instance that things began to change; where he would catch her watching him only for her quickly turn away when their gazes locked. Where she would begin to make excuses to touch him, softly, so tenderly, be that with fingers through his hair in the guise of innocent curiosity, or the slow sensual dances illuminated by the strobe lights of every bar and club they’d visit. Where hands roamed over broad planes of covered flesh and set his soul on fire. Where times spent simply talking in the observation deck had drawn them closer, noses bumping together while he’d begin to drown in the warm honey of her eyes, swept away on the winds of every exhale, unable to fight against the gravity of her, and relishing how his heart pounded against the walls of his chest in eager anticipation of that very first kiss.

Cloud was so fucking ready to fall in love with her, to plummet beyond that point of no return only encouraged by her imploring hands and those heavy lust filled hues. To kiss her, touch her, make sweet love to her and make her his. Even if they were interrupted each and every time by convenient obstacles in the form of Benny and Vinnie.

It all came to a head during one of their many sparring sessions, tensions released as they fucked like animals on the cold floor of the training room, where she’d cried his name and nothing in the galaxy had ever sounded so sweet, where the sharp grazes running across his shoulders had never hurt so good, marked to claim him as hers together with the sensual rocking of hips and desperate pleading moans. And there on after Cloud was common presence in those spaces in her bed, peeling away the layers, touching her in her most intimate places, securing hot wet kisses against scorched flesh while she straddled his waist and rode him beyond that sheer edge of rapture itself. No amount of booze nor substances could compare to this addiction, just her hands on him was enough to make him hard, just her lips moaning his name hotly against the shell his ear enough to make him cum, for her and only her over, and over, and over again.

Wild and untameable was she, and he wouldn’t change her for all the credits in all of Citadel Space; no finer feeling had he ever experienced to know that she, this apparition of everything Cloud knew to be beautiful, inside and out, had chosen him in the end.

Keeping their relationship from the rest of the crew was impossible, they were too obvious with how they merely looked at one another, the way they had started to protect one another in battle, how they were caught so many times locking lips within the shadows of corridors. Yet even then, everyone knew, if the knowledge of their relationship wasn’t widely accepted as being out in the open, it was still very much common knowledge. And for her men at least, harbouring that information was insufferable.

Until one day, in the usual place where the crew gathered, where she would muscle Shotgun out of his seat next to Cloud to claim it as her own, and she looks at him from beneath those long dark lashes and the words “Can I kiss you?” oozed from her lips like the finest syrup. Cloud gazes back, baby blue’s dropping to her mouth before flickering upwards once more to meet with those gorgeous honey glazed eyes. He doesn’t offer an answer, least not a verbal one, choosing instead to close that distance, his mouth enclosing those glorious luscious lips with the softest of coquettish sighs.

And much to the gleeful appreciation of the crew sat amongst them, jeering and whooping in a sort of celebration for this affection they’d found in the most unexpected of circumstances.

Because like everything here aboard the Nova, it all happens in the mess hall.

#mercyxkilling #{This feeling's so volatile it must be love - Cloud x Mercy}#{eezo stained - Mass Effect AU}#this is HELLA long #but I worked ALL DAY on it #and loved every second #I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

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nev3rfound · 5 years

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home no more : s.r

* details from winter soldier and civil war are twisted meaning this isn’t following the exact plot of the movies *

brief summary: following the events from girl back home, Y/n has to learn how to deal with this new life without those she loves to guide her

word count: 2k requested: yes- by a series of people following ‘girl back home’ so thank you for the love! warnings: none that I’m aware of

girl back home / home no more / building a home

* requests are open if you have any ideas, feel free to drop ‘em in my inbox or message me. *

It wasn’t how it should’ve happened. Not by any means. You’d heard it directly from them, from SHIELD that he was lost at sea.

You thought it could’ve been a sick joke, but when Peggy stepped forward, his friend who you knew he trusted told you it was true. You were broken. Steve was gone.

There wasn’t anyone else to turn to for comfort. Bucky was gone, MIA. You’d lost the two people who knew you best in life due to their final mission, the one to stop whoever was going to win this war.

Everyone around you was cheering. The war was over. Couples were reunited before your very eyes, but you would never get the pleasure of being one of them, not ever.

You spent some evenings thinking back to the precious time you shared together. The stories you shared and the dances you had together. He always told you he’d go for that one dance, but now he never can.

When the war was over Peggy told you that she would have people to look out for you, ensure you were safe.

It was something that you struggled to fathom clearly. Whoever Steve was fighting knew about you, the girl back home Steve was fighting his way back to.

“You’ve got to be careful, Y/n.” Peggy had sat you down in your small kitchen as her eyes found a picture behind you of you and the two missing soldiers. She could see the pain in your expression even if you seemed relaxed, your mind never stopped racing with fears. “We, we don’t know what these people could be capable of.”

“I’ll be fine, Peggy.” You had coldly retorted and she sat up straighter in the chair. “Sorry.” A mumbled apology followed as you wiped your eyes, a default reaction at this point. “I’m just struggling to get used to this.”

Peggy didn’t need to say anything, she understood. You’d lost the love of your life along with your best friend. She had lost their first successful experiment and a dear friend. “Just don’t trust easily, Y/n.” She placed her hand on yours before leaving you alone in the never-ending silence as laughter haunts the hallways.

And then it happened, a single event that changed everything you knew.

You still worked at the bakery. It was the only normal part to your routine left and you couldn’t lose that too, it was your escape for the day. On the walk there you passed the same mundane sights. You’d wave to the elderly couple feeding pigeons, a few boys would play hopscotch as the girls giggled watching them and you would avert your eyes, pain still fresh remembering you were one of them.

A whole day would pass of greeting customers, none quite like Buck or Steve. They didn’t make you laugh or smile like they could. Instead, it was all forced to the point it ached your cheeks. You didn’t have a choice. Fake it until you make it, as Peggy had told you.

Closing the bakery doors behind you the bitter chill of winter in Brooklyn was growing nearer as you watched your breath floating around you.

There were fewer catcalls compared to before. You didn’t feel afraid without the two figures either side of you, but that didn’t stop the ghostly feeling spreading along the pavements as your heels clicked on the cobbles.

You should’ve noticed the figure lurking down the alleyway, watching, waiting for you.

Peggy told you people would be watching you, and unlike the others, this one had other ideas.

“Hey, sweetheart.” A voice had called with malice in their tone, but you refused to turn around. Instead, you kept walking. The sound of your heels becoming louder, but the growls behind you didn’t recede.

Pain.

That was all you remembered as you fell to the ground. Your vision was gone, and all you heard were a few words whispered in your ear before you were lost, officially announced missing.

“Hail Hydra.”

The next seventy years of your life were stolen from you. You weren’t given the opportunity to help in the Second world war to continue Steve’s legacy. You didn’t get to move on, get married and have a family of your own. You never got to say goodbye to your family, because they said goodbye to their daughter who never returned home after work.

You were in cryo. You felt nothing, you were asleep but your mind was wide awake. All you relived in your mind were your childhood afternoons with Steve and Bucky, the memories you had longed to go back to and make the most of.

Sometimes they became twisted. In some of them, Steve never came home, only his broken body in Bucky’s arms made it. It hurt, because you couldn’t open your eyes and remember it was a dream, you had no choice but to play it out.

It wasn’t until the Winter Soldier was being dragged out of his chamber as he was required once more. He had a second to take in his surroundings and he thought he was hallucinating, he must have.

He blinked rapidly as a guard gripped his arm, dragging him out of the chamber. But he still stared at you, completely frozen with your eyes closed. A gasp escaped his lips as his heart sank. You never got to live the life you deserved.

How it had happened was irrelevant to you, but all you knew is you could open your eyes. The dreams were ending allowing you to awaken to a real nightmare, one you couldn’t shut out.

Flames surrounded you as smoke clouded the space. You stumbled from the glass case, confusion circling your mind before a pair of arms gripped onto you. The figure was covered by the smoke, but their gentle hold was comforting.

The figure rushed you outside of the room, down various corridors as the building was falling apart around you. With each step you were becoming weaker, the fight within you deteriorating as your body craved sleep.

“I, I can’t.” You muttered as your vision blurred and the figure was no longer hidden in smoke.

Thick brown hair covered his face, but his metal arm was illuminated in the flames. “Steady, doll.” You weren’t sure if you heard him correctly, or if you were imagining things.

He lifted you and began to run. You closed your eyes as he carried your weak body until you were out of the flames. A loud explosion filled your ears as he sheltered your body. “Am I still dreaming?” You questioned and opened your eyes, still unsure who was before you.

“I’m afraid not.” He stated as he rose to his feet, extending his arm.

Helping you to your feet you blinked rapidly, slowly seeing things more clearly.

As his hair parted from his face tears filled your eyes. “I, I must be.” Your lower lip began to quiver as you lifted your hand, resting it against his cheek despite him flinching. “You died, Bucky.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not dreaming, Y/n.” He speaks up, moving away from your gentle touch. “We’ve got to go. Come on.”

You followed behind him as he held a gun in his hand, walking away from the burning building with no more words left to be said.

The following months after you had escaped HYDRA were harder than anything you’d dealt with prior in your life, in your old life as Bucky told you.

You had to start all over again. It was like being a baby, learning how to talk and walk and how to use this technology that seemed alien but was normal for everyone else around you.

Bucky had found a small place for you to hide. It was cosy, but you could live in peace until he found a more permanent solution for both of you. You had no idea what was happening, and Bucky didn’t have much more sense about him.

He was different. The lovable flirt was gone and in his place a shadow of his former self. This version was distant, afraid but powerful. He had the ability to snap someone's neck without blinking and act as if nothing had happened. But you heard his cries in the night when you woke up, tears streaming down your own cheeks.

You often dreamt of Steve. Here you were, a second chance at life and he never got to make the most of his. You were selfish to have this opportunity and not make the most of it. Steve would want you to be out there, learning about the way the world has evolved over the course of seventy years. But you were too afraid to step into the light in case it burned you.

For months Bucky sat with you each evening, he told you what happened to him, the things he was forced to do. Each night you cried yourself to sleep, picturing him having to go through all of that and thank yourself lucky you were merely in cryo.

Yet, neither of you could understand why you were taken. It didn’t make any sense to either of you. Steve was dead, Bucky was already captured. Why did they need you?

It was these questions that left you inside the small apartment. Bucky would put his baggy clothes on and glove to hide his arm and wear a low cap in an attempt to disguise his face. You wore whatever he stole. The days of dresses that you loved were gone, replaced with large designs covering t-shirts that never fitted.

You had developed somewhat of a routine. Every day you woke up with a bag packed beside your covers, just in case today was the day you had to run. Bucky would get some food, whatever he could find or steal. You two would sit, listen to the news in a language you didn’t understand and Bucky would translate it for you.

It wasn’t like old times. This world wasn’t your home anymore, but it had to make do.

Every few weeks Bucky would wake you at ungodly hours, telling you it was time to go. At this point, you’d perfected the art of hiding in plain sight. You would sneak down fire escapes, pick locks or render anyone unconscious, just as Bucky had taught you. It wasn’t what you wanted, but you had no choice. It was this, or being captured and tortured.

“Y/n, wake up.” Being shaken by Bucky wasn’t unusual, but as your eyes opened you reached under your pillow grabbing your gun. “Someone’s here.” He placed his finger to his lips and you nodded.

Rising to your feet you grab a hold of your bag, keeping your gun set out in front of you as you enter the small living space where Bucky hovers. “Bucky?” You whisper, swallowing the nerves as he lifts his hand up to silence you.

“I know, doll.” He mutters back, sending a wave of comfort through you.

The moment is short lived as the window behind you is smashed and a force weighs down on you, tackling you to the ground and before you can shoot the gun is out of your grip.

“Let her go.” Bucky yells, and as his eyes meet the figure he lets out a heavy sigh.

Keeping your eyes closed the weight on top of you eased. “Y,Y/n?” The voice trembled as they were off of you, allowing you to scramble backwards until your back hit the wall. “Is it really you?”

Hesitantly you open your eyes and blink a few times. But as you lock eyes with his soft blue ones you shake your head in disbelief. “I’m dreaming again, Buck, tell me I’m dreaming.” You call out to your friend as your eyes remain on the blue you saw every night.

“You’re not dreaming, doll.”

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americanahighways · 4 years

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Billy Strings Streaming Tour 2020 — photos by Jesse Faatz Photography;

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Billy Strings continued the 2020 Streaming Strings tour Wednesday night, sliding into a new venue, this time, the City Winery in Nashville. Having played two shows at the Station Inn, and prior to that, two more at the Brooklyn Bowl, it would seem that Apostol and his merry band of pickers have basically owned Nashville the past week. The music has been furiously inspired and the assembled special guests have simply been out of sight. This is one of the most fascinating bands in any genre right now to my way of thinking. For sure, they’re one of the most innovative and clever bands playing, and their ability to play this caliber music night after night is just insane to think about. Despite months off the road, it really seems the band has gelled back together rather effortlessly, and through these livestreams, given us an opportunity to watch it happen. So, lets take a look at the shows from the City Winery.

Wednesday night had the boys well rested (I assume), and roaring to go. On Monday night, Apostl had returned the favor to his friend, and sat in with Marcus King’s band for a couple of songs. With the venue change, there was also a different stream. Tonight’s streaming provider moved over to Nugs, and with an archive of shows under their belt, Hopes were high. Unfortunately, I had difficulties connecting, and missed the opening “I’m Still Here,” coming in after the segue into “Last Train to Clarksville> “Running.” Almost immediately, it was apparent there wasn’t an ounce of momentum lost from the days off. “Everything’s the Same” was a barely contained fire, threatening, but curiously kind of restrained. The foundations of the songs and the solos were tight, and the jams transitioning between certainly were spacey, but they were also noticeably structured. Things seem somewhat reminiscent to the last night at the Station Inn. Best part for me through the first set was watching Jarrod Walker pickin’ that mandolin like a madman all over the place. Just check out “There Is a Time” and Leftover Salmon’s “Down In The Hollow.” Even better, we’ve even seen Royal Masset rumble out a turn in the solo rotation during “Doing Things Right.” Together, Walker and Massett have seemingly joined forces this evening, carving out a funky piece of real estate all for themselves. Billy throws out a loving nod to his late pal Jeff Austin with cunning “Rundown,” before the set closing “Black Clouds” rolls in, and breaks down into epic status. Billy switches to an electric tone and pushes and nudges the envelope of psychedelia menacingly before handing off the controls to Billy Failing. “Failing” sets the controls for the sun, digging in on that five string banjo like no other. “Failing” is fun to watch, and particularly fun to see evolve. I’ve always been a banjo guy, and Failing is quickly becoming one I look to first to fill that need. The “Black Clouds” was one of my favorite versions to date and one hell of a way to close a first set.

Set two never skips a step, getting underway with“On the Line> ”Train 45.” They’re on tonight, and they know it. Walker got my vote for line of the night following the opening duo of songs by uttering: “Sir, don’t rush the stage”. Get it? Empty venue……anyway. Billy seems to really be enjoying the electric tone tonight, dropping it in prominently through a hot run-through of Widespread Panic’s“All Time Low”>”Midnight on the Highway” (Hot Rize). A nearly perfectly rendered “Sitting Here in Limbo” gives Royal another chance to shine, and ends up being one of my favorite cuts of the night. The traditional “Blue Mule” led to a bold and adventurous “Highway Hypnosis” that still has me thinking about it days later. Joining the festivities tonight, was Fruition’s Mimi Naja. Naja lent her talents for a tetrad of first-time played songs. First, Flatt & Scuggs’ “Don’t This Road Look Rough and Rocky?” then her own “Labor of Love”. Finally, they wrapped up the night with Gillian Welch’s “Caleb Meyer” and another dose of Jeff Austin love with “15 Steps.” A really solid show, start to finish, and a lot of fun.

7/22/2020 Billy Strings City Winery – Nashville, TN Set 1:

I’m Still Here > Last Train to Clarksville > Running > Everything’s the Same There is a Time Down in the Hollow Doin’ Things Right Rundown (Thanks to Jeff Austin) Black Clouds

Set 2: On the Line > Train 45 All Time Low > Midnight on the Highway Sitting Here in Limbo Blue Mule Highway Hypnosis Don’t This Road Look Rough And Rocky (1) Labor of Love (1) Caleb Meyer (1)(2) 15 Steps (1) (1) with Mimi Naja (2) FTP

Night two at the City Winery Nashville blew a bunch of minds, man. It also assuredly broke a few dreams of a no-repeat nine show run. Okay, I admit it, I was kinda bummed when the opening notes of “While I’m Waiting Here ” sounded, but c’mon. First of all, it’s a great song, and besides, what other band, so early in their career, can play 5 shows, 112 songs, at such ridiculous intensity and not have one repeat? I mean, that’s not just impressive, it’s down right nuts! On another note, I again had considered that maybe it wasn’t just “user error.” Apparently there were lots of issues, but like they say, the show must go on. I missed the the opening “Pike County Breakdown,” maybe an estimated five or six minutes of it, depending on how long they jammed out the song, Instead, I came in within the transition into the “How You Feeling Jam.” I probably didn’t miss much, but with this band, you just don’t know, and it’s worth it to absorb every minute you can. The nutty thing is, it’s completely understandable given the circumstances. The situation is fluid friends, with everyone still getting their stage legs under them, the stream providers as well. Still, I hope it gets figured out. But enough about that, we’re staying positive, and why wouldn’t we? Already, it’s apparent that Failing is on point tonight based on some epic early runs. Jim & Jesse’s “Airmail Special” dropped some heavy psychedelia with Billy swapping in that electric tone he was digging the previous night. Next up was that no repeat dream crushing, “While I’m Waiting Here.” Truthfully, it never gave you time to dwell on it, instead drawing you in as it puts on display just how much fun the guys are having tonight. Walker and Massat are steady in their roles, lighting a path for the others, and often times cutting the trail themselves. They’re in good moods, and Billy alludes to just that, comparing it to watching five episodes of Bob Ross. With the repeat barrier removed, they roll out “Long Forgotten Dream” before giving me all kinds of reasons to smile with robust version of the Hunter/Garcia classic “Dire Wolf.” The trippy explorations returned in a fiery “Dust in a Baggie” before “Enough to Leave’s” borders expanded to straddle a line somewhere between bluegrass and jazz. An adventurous “Home of the Red Fox” merged into a bold rollicking “Ole Slewfoot.” Just like that, this might be my favorite first set of the run. I guess we’ll see.

Set two began with a fun extended teas of “Uncle John’s Beard” a rousing “Must Be 7”, and an absolutely beautiful “Wild Horses.” Gordon Lightfoot’s “Cold on the Shoulder” (ala Tony Rice) and Billy’s own “Hollow Heart” were up next, before I got completely caught up in hypnotic spell that was the band’s take on Dylan’s “Señor (Tales of Yankee Power).” Seriously? That just happened? How do you follow that?Well, one sure way is to invite Greensky Bluegrass’ Dave Bruzza onstage. Bruzza dueled a little guitar and lead the band through a trio of Greensky songs, “Letter to Seymour,” an especially memorable “Reverend”as well as “Wings For Wheels.” Dave stuck around for the remainder of the set too, starting with Hartford’s “Get No Better” before all the fellas unleashed a filthy, tease filled “Pyramid Country” that nearly deified belief. Bill Monroe’s “Roll On Buddy” emerged from the other side, and just like that we came back to earth. Can’t wait to see what the Exit/Inn has in store for us Friday and Saturday finally wrapping things up on Sunday at 3rd & Lindsley. We all know that old adage, Never miss a Sunday show!

7/23/2020 Billy Strings City Winery – Nashville, TN

Set 1: Pike County Breakdown > How You Feeling Jam > Airmail Special While I’m Waiting Here Long Forgotten Dream Dire Wolf (1) Dust in a Baggie Enough to Leave Home of the Red Fox > Ole Slewfoot

Set 2:

Uncle John’s Beard (1) Must be Seven Wild Horses Cold on the Shoulder Hollow Heart Señor (Tales of Yankee Power) Letter to Seymour (2) Reverend (2) Wings For Wheels (2) Get No Better (1)(2) Pyramid Country (2)(3)(4)> Roll on Buddy (1) FTP (2) with Dave Bruzza (3) Don’t Lie tease (4) Kerosene tease

Grasping a huge handful of integrity for the traditions, it’s pure joy watching the faces when it’s all clicking. Find more here: http://www.billystrings.com

I’d like to call out the Billy Strings Setlist page on Facebook. For someone still learning all the songs in the repertoire as well as the history behind them, it’s been a valuable resource and a friendly spot to drop in and research.. Thanks for doing what you do. Additionally, the Billy Strings Fanpage (Official) on Facebook is equally vital, and a fun growing community.

Show Review: Billy Strings Nine-Night Streaming Tour 2020, Part 2 @billystrings #americanamusic #livestreamtour Billy Strings Streaming Tour 2020 -- photos by Jesse Faatz Photography; Billy Strings continued the 2020 Streaming Strings tour Wednesday night, sliding into a new venue, this time, the City Winery in Nashville.

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Carrion Review: A Brilliant Horror Game Where You Are the Monster

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You know that bit in your favorite scary movie where you get to know your soon-to-be-slaughtered protagonists and the tension is slowly strung out like the string of a bow? Yeah, CARRION doesn’t do that. Instead, it skips right to the good part and gives you control of the monster. You play as an amorphous blob creature who breaks out of a test chamber to swiftly wreak havoc on an underground lab. It’s the stuff all great slasher fiction is made of, only here the “reverse horror” conceit firmly places you in the driver’s seat.

Such a setup might sound incredibly simple, but it’s representative of the risks indie games are often willing to take compared to what you’ll see in most AAA releases. In CARRION’s case, the unique genre gamble absolutely pays off, aided by slick gameplay and the low-fi pixel art that renders the gory action in just enough detail that you can’t help but remain engrossed in this creature feature. This visceral 2D adventure may only last four to five hours but it’s simultaneously disgusting and delightful while it lasts.

Much of what makes CARRION work so well is just how great the traversal feels. You’d think that controlling a near-formless, tentacled beast would prove somewhat of a pain when in fact the opposite is true. Getting from one side of the screen to the other was always an effortless glide with just a push of the left thumbstick on my Xbox One controller. You spend much of your time slithering through the facility’s various vents and elevator shafts, so it’s nice that squeezing yourself in and out while slaughtering innocent scientists is never a chore.

Equally painless is the act of actually dispatching enemies, which early on begins with you moving through rooms and engulfing whoever stands in your way before CARRION turns into somewhat of a stealth game. Don’t get too put off by this, though, as your blob comes equipped with various abilities to help make you the ultimate horror menace – to the point that I was constantly surprised at what crazy scenarios I was capable of orchestrating towards the end of the story.

Ultimately, you always want to use your tentacles to grab unsuspecting humans and pull them in towards you, but you’ll suddenly find this gets harder when guns enter the equation. Because, for all the enormous mass you eventually go on to gain, taking too many bullets is a sure-fire way to cut this horror monster fantasy short. Fortunately, you can employ a host of other tactics to devour your prey: you might want to taunt enemies into a specific location with a growl (for which there is a dedicated button), or alternatively you could remotely control an armed guard to easily mow down every threat. In general, CARRION’s core gameplay loop involves you solving numerous blood-laden puzzle boxes full of enemies to eat.

Release Date: July 23, 2020 Platforms: PC (reviewed), XBO, Switch Developer: Phobia Game Studio Publisher: Devolver Digital Genre: Survival Horror

There is an attempt at a story, though it quickly descends into predictable monster movie territory. Anyone who’s watched John Carpenter’s The Thing or Ridley Scott’s Alien, for example, will know where it’s all headed. Even still, this in no way dampens how it feels to control the flow of the action and, if nothing else, affords you some welcome respite from the default blob gameplay in a way we won’t spoil here.

Growing your blob’s size and evolving your power set never ceases to be fun, so much so that the only real flaw I can level at CARRION is its obscure navigation. You see, when not causing rampant destruction in the underground compound’s various areas, you’ll be traveling between each facility via an overworld of sorts. It works much in the same way as, say, the dungeons in The Legend of Zelda, but whereas those games include a map CARRION elects not to.

This isn’t too much of an issue in the first couple of hours, as hunting down each facility’s hive points is all part of the puzzle in itself, but I’m pretty sure I added 30 minutes to my playtime just purely trying to work out where to go next. I had a particularly tough time finding my way towards the end of the game while searching for the final Bunker area. And while it hardly ruins the overall experience, it does seem like a baffling oversight. Why not just include an overworld map to avoid the frustration? Maybe we could see it in a future update.

CARRION is perfectly primed to satisfy every horror aficionado’s sadistic tendencies, smartly switching up the genre’s rules to twist and contort a premise that would otherwise come over as fairly rote. There are a couple of issues when it comes to navigation, sure, but what’s here is still an effective creature simulator that both looks and feels great to play without ever outstaying its welcome. It’s by far one of the best indie releases I’ve played all year.

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