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docholligay · 3 years

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An Overwatch Christmas Carol: Stave IV-- The Last of the Spirits

Creeping out of the shadows of the subway station, little bits of shadow began to move toward her, and even as Ana stepped back, they came into a pile on the ground, growing higher and higher. As it grew she heard voices overlapping, little snippets of conversations, things that could not be, in contradiction with each other, wave upon wave of idea, none real and all real, at once.

The shadows became one. It was a tall, imposing figure, the face unable to be seen, its body barely formed, wavering in the air. The darknesses overlapped one another, shade upon shade, and Ana felt a chill knowledge come into her heart that she was looking at her very own future. Darkness upon darkness. Shade upon shade. Moving and whispering in every second.

The future.

“Are you,” her voice sounded so high and so fearful even to her, but she could not control it, “Are you the ghost--the spirit---that Jack and Reinhardt and Tra--my friends. Are you the ghost that my friends have sent to me?”

No face fell into view, just that same blue and grey and black in a muted palette, brushing up against each other, as the spirit nodded and whispers of a dozen different voices emanated from in it and around it.

Nem. Ja. Tak. Of course. Ken. Oui. Yes.

“You’re here,” she walked cautiously about the spirit as it towered over here, “to show me things that haven’t happened yet.”

More nods, and more whispers, and more shadows. The shade of an arm outstretched, and pointed on toward the stairs that led up and out of that tube station, toward the future. No longer was Ana concerned with narrative structure, nor surprised at the spectre of a spectre itself, and yet, in a way that no spirit before it had managed, she felt herself tremble before the gliding shadows and barely audible whispers in some form of human shape before her.

“Are you,” she thought of those that had come before, “A friend?”

No. Nein. Nyet. Nej. La. Meiyou.

She gave a low, shaking chuckle. “Not that you need to be. I’ve worn out my chances with that, I think.”

The spirit did not respond but with the same hand, pointing up the stairs, out of the darkness into a far more terrifying morning gloom. Ana’s eyes followed the hand, knowing where she had to go, wishing she could go anywhere else.

“I am afraid of you,” she steadied her voice, let herself like in that terrible, vulnerable truth, “In a way I have not been of any ghost before you. But I know they would not send you if you couldn’t help me. I will try to learn from you, more than I ever have have before, Spirit.”

A shadowed finger to the stairs, the only response.

“Yes.” Ana tightened her scarf and tied her robe tight, trying to crack a smile, “Come on, then, as Tracer would say.”

They started up the stairs, but they did not so much climb them as the stairs fell down around them, revealing the city as they fell away, and suddenly Ana was on a snow-dusted street, and then the cafe with the black awning and the gingham tables, and then they were inside of it, the two women behind the counter, same as they were every morning.

Ana looked around, not much about the place but a few pastries left here and there, the two women cleaning up tea pots and chatting amongst themselves. She knew this place well, had frequented it many times before, and yet she was nervous to enter it again.

“You seen that old bat of ours lately?” One of them said to the other.

“Oh, the one grumbling every morning, with the coffee? Naw, not for a week or better now.” She did not seem to give the matter any thought, but squeezed out a mop.

“Wonder if she’s died.” From over a wiped off counter.

“Think we might have heard?”

The first burst into a peal of laughter. “From who exactly? Not as if she’s ever with anyone, right? And I’m more noticing than mourning, mind you.”

The other chuckled appreciatively. “Maybe it’s only that she’s decided to grace someone else with her growling.”

“We should be so lucky, I think!”

The women collapsed into laughter as the sides of the cafe fell away, and then more walls began to be constructed in its place, newspapers on the walls falling away to clean, crisp white, the floor from wood to a highly polished stone, the counter becoming a front desk with pictures behind it, the plaque above them reading For Those Who Gave All In The Cause Of Good.

“Well I don’t know anything about it, just that she couldn’t be reached. Commander Amari said to send someone over later, been two weeks since she checked in,” the little secretary laughed behind the desk, ‘She told me, the agent is either gone rouge or dead, and handed me plans for both, said not to worry till after the holiday. Commander Amari said I should go home to me and mine, it’s nearly Christmas.”

“That was kind of her,” a dark haired man leaned against the edge of the desk, “I think it’s only a handful of us that don’t bother with it on today. You know,” he laughed, “I’d really rather her be rouge. More entertaining, and I don’t have the energy for an official Overwatch funeral.”

“Oh,” she stood up and grabbed her coat, “I doubt there’d be any kind of funeral, even if the devil has taken his own at last. Or a cheap one, none of the trimmings.”

“I mean,” He laughed, “I’ll go if there’s a tea at least. I heard when Commander Oxton died, there was a spread for the gods.”

She slipped on her coat. “Not likely to be that. Maybe a bag of crisps, for the memory.”

They laughed together, him wishing her a Happy Christmas with her family, and again the walls fell away as Ana turned to the spirit. These conversations were so small and could have been insignificant, and yet Ana felt something twisting around her heart, tighter and tighter. It came to her so fast, here with this cold and silent spirit, this lesson, and yet she cursed the Ana of the past, and the present, who had taken so long to see their own lessons.

“I understand, Spirit.” She nodded slowly. “This woman could be me. My life--it does support that sort of treatment, right now. I won’t ever forget this lesson that you’ve taught me, but--what about...my Fareeha? She must--”

But before she could finish the thought, the walls fell away again, and constructed just as quickly, until they were on that same street she had seen with Tracer, in what had been earlier this evening, and so long ago. It was no more impressive than it had been, though certainly more built up, no longer many empty shells of what had been bombed and shot out in the Battle for London, but apartments and a market, a pub and a bakery, all the street looking so much more complete for all of it.

Pharah and Mercy’s home was there, standing where it had before, in a row of newer apartments made to incorporate the old bits of what had been there before the unpleasantness of battle.

The apartment was not at all decorated, a light in the upstairs window the only indication of anything at all. In the dim light it glowed like a candle, beckoning them on. The doors to apartments around them were covered in garland, trees lighting up the windows, but this one was quiet, and undecorated.

“Fareeha.” The name escaped her lips before she could even finish the thought, “I know this part of the story. I mistook Tracer for Tiny Tim but--She must have---” she paused, and looked down at the snow made dull and muddy by the traffic that had already walked by. “She was so angry. And I never did anything. I encouraged it, in her. I told her to set it aside. I never helped her deal with it. And now--”

She looked back to the spirit, who simply pointed to that grey door, a hole opening in it, darker grey still, overlapping colors of the night so much like the spirit itself.

Kommen. Ma. Priyti. Come.

“But, I have to see. Yes.”

She walked into the house, and looked around. Still dark, thought it was fully eight am and if Pharah had been here there would have been a flurry of activity, certainly. She smelled a hint of cinnamon in the air, that must have been wafting over from one of the other close-knit apartments, but she stared and stared up those stairs, where she knew that bedroom sat, where she knew she would have to look and see what all her failures had wrought.

The Spirit pointed up the stairs, not even whispers from its lips as it points, Ana looking up into the hallway that should have been cheerful and bright, but seemed so foreboding, so dull, so frightening. A step. She had to climb.

“Poor Angela.”

It surprised her even as she said it. She had spent so long thinking that Mercy was weak, that she wasn’t built for the work that she had chosen to do, that she would have been better off choosing a softer job, marrying into a softer family. Now, she felt a stirring in her, something that could remember Mercy had lost her parents young, Mercy had seen soldiers crying for their parents in their last moments, Mercy had plucked dead children out of rubble. And she refused to callous. She cried every time.

Maybe she was braver than Ana had ever given her credit for. Maybe she was braver than Ana.

She turned around, nearly up the stairs now, to the Spirit. “Are you going to tell me what happened to their child?”

An outstretched hand, pointing.

Another step. Another turn, another pause.

“Pharah can’t be dead. I know this, because she was mentioned at Headquarters.”

Nothing but that finger, those moving, shifting, shading darknesses. Ana turned around, and took those final steps. Staring down the hallway where the light circled the door, waiting to be opened, knowing she had to do it.

“I can’t imagine Fareeha leaving…”she kept walking, even as she feared it, “Angela must have left her. I should have...This is all my fault. ” She stopped at the door. “Oh no. Angela can’t have died, Spirit, that would be the most unfair thing of all. I could have--I will stop it. I will.”

She rested her hand on that cold, hard doorknob, and let the rage flash in her. Knowing that she would change Mercy’s death, knowing that she would heal Pharah, knowing that she would go back and fix it all. She twisted, and let it open.

Pharah lay in bed, her arm not even on, reading a book in the dim light. The smell of coffee filled the air, and that cinnamon she had been so sure earlier was coming from another house was the cinnamon roll sitting by her side of the bed.

And Mercy’s. Mercy was tucked in next to her, hair piled high on her head, in an oversized t-shirt and her glasses, paging through her own novel. Between them was a little blonde girl, sitting crosslegged and also determinedly reading her own book, a blanket drawn around her shoulders, a battered stuffed sloth tucked into her lap, helping her read.

“Mama,” she turned to Pharah, “Can I have a bite?”

“Of course.” Pharah smiled warmly, and the little girl crawled onto her, mouth open as Pharah chuckled and stuffed a piece in her mouth.

“I love you, Mama.” She chewed on the bun.

“I love you, too,” she swung over her arm and pulled the little girl onto herself, “Don’t talk with your mouth full. You could choke.”

The little girl nodded, and carefully swallowed, then treated Pharah to a sticky kiss, Pharah smiling contently all the while, as Mercy looked on, licking her fingers from her own cinnamon roll. Pharah tucked her own blanket around the little girl, and patted her affectionately.

“We’ll have to dig into the cookies, at this rate. And so early.”

“Oh do we?” Mercy sat up and looked over at the both of them.

“Avi’s stolen most of my cinnamon roll, you see.”

“Nuh-uh!!” Avi protested. “You said I could have a bite, Mama!”

Pharah gave a deep laugh. “I should have made more.”

Ana looked at her daughter as she leaned against the doorframe. She had told herself as she came up the stairs that now was the time when she would see all the mistakes that were made, that now was the dark part of this story, that there was nothing but sadness to be seen here. And yet. It was warmth and coziness and comfort, all. There were none of her fears, either of the old Ana or the new, in this family.

“But I thought…” Ana stepped forward a few steps, staring at Pharah.

There was no red about her at all, no halo about her spelling trouble, just, if anything, the gentle light of a contented love.

The breath left her as she realized.

“It has nothing to do with me.” She felt it catch in her throat. “Her anger...she didn’t need me. She, she let it go herself. Because I mean nothing to her.”

The floor dropped out from beneath her, falling, falling, through all the grey and the darkness, like smoke surrounding her and clouding her, entering into her as she opened her mouth to scream.

And then, as soon as the fall started, it stopped.

She was on the floor of that same raggedy hallway in her apartment building, with that same flickering light, though it seemed somehow even dimmer than the last time. She struggled to her feet as the Spirit materialized beside her, extending that same arm, pointing to the door that she knew, oh, very well indeed.

“Am I--going home?” she looked for a moment, confused, and then let the moment settle in. “No. This is the woman everyone was talking about. This is the woman no one was talking about.”

She took a step.

“I have a question. The future, I mean, these can only be the shadows of what might happen. Things could change, in any moment. This is true of the future, it always is.”

There was no response, not even a whisper, just pointing, pointing. Ana looked at the door, and slowly inched forward, knowing she had to see the truth, knowing she could hardly bear it. She reached out her hand to the knob, and could feel the cold breeze coming from inside the room. She took a shaking breath, and tightened her grip.

She lost her nerve, and pivoted, looking back at the Spirit, so close behind her she could smell those hundreds of smells, just like the whispers, one overlapped over the other.

“I know what’s behind that door. What is the point of any of this? Why bother showing it to me if I can’t change!? It exists only to torment me!”

Ana felt her hand on the doorknob, though she could not remember placing it there, and heard that horrid, dark click as the door creaked open, calling her inside.

“No.” She whispered.

But she looked, because she must look, and there it was, on the terrible, dank, threadbare carpet, but her own self, stone dead where she had fallen. There was a squeaking Ana realized could not longer be coming from the door, and she adjusted her vision a moment, saw two rats eating at the edge of her hand, their own Christmas feast offering the filling warmth Ana never had otherwise.

She cried out, bent against the doorframe. How long had she been here? Days, and no one had noticed she was missing, more than a week, at least, and in that time not one person had reached out to see her, to check on her, to even know that she was dead. How much longer might her body lie there, eaten by rats in the cool of the evening?

Ana looked up at the Spirit, hurt and angry, most of all with herself and her own thousand failures.

“Tell me who you are! Let me at least know the face of my accuser!”

The Spirit stepped back away from her, and slowly, slowly the shadows began to drift, two hands becoming many tiny hands as they ringed around the cowl that hid the face, the horrible face that Ana had asked to see and yet now wished to see no longer, and she took a step back as it pulled away the cowl, like a peel slowly retreating from the fruit.

Pharah’s eyes glowered at her, and Ana shrank back, shaking her head, opening her mouth to apologize, to say something, and then the shades turned and moved and became Waldemar, and then again to Mercy, to Tracer, to Zeina, to Reinhardt, moving and shifting between all these people she had known, all their voices and whispers surrounding her and cutting her as she held back, and then, there it was, locked in and staring furiously: Ana herself. The whispers started, the accusations, everything she had learned and already known coalescing in her head, tying tight around her, and she felt that same chain, cold and hard.

She fell to her knees, grasping at the Spirit.

“Please! I can change! Jack must have sent you because he knew!” The words choked up in her throat and stuck there, tears coming to her eyes, “Tell me these things can be changed. Why show me if these things can’t be changed? A life CAN BE CHANGE--”

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lavend-ler · 3 years

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for the ask meme: R, T, and U! :)

well hello there 👀

R - A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships

LILITH/FIONA!!!!! I SWEAR I will advocate for this ship, its one of my fave f/f blands ships but the content is nonexistant for them. while I was writing one of my fics I had an interaction between them that turned flirty and I fell in love with them on the spot

two fiery ladies who are both leaders in their own ways with so many responsbilities. I feel like Fiona handling her own with an ease for so long would help Lilith settle in for the role she wasn’t sure from the start. not to mention their personalities bounce off each other in the best way I love them and I can’t wait till I write sth for them

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything)

damn, there are a lot I can think of. the obvious one is bi Rhys, that’s honestly canon for me, as well as lesbian Fiona. I have a lot of hcs abt friendships like I love the idea of friendship between Rhys & Janey or Tim & Lilith, they are dear to me <3

from my different fandoms, I remember I was super into the hc that Marco Diaz from svtfoe is a trans girl and I will stand by it completely

U - 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms

OH DANG LETS GO

1. Rhys Strongfork

2. Edward Cullen (or Alice Cullen, my beloved)

3. Once-ler

4. Mermista

5. Lena “Tracer” Oxton

#ask #palecryptid #it was...surprisingly hard to think of 5 different fandoms shit dfjknbd #one day I will make more Lilith/Fiona content u all shall see........#also I cant choose between Ed and Alice actually

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octobersmog · 6 years

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Request Guidelines

This blog does not accept smut requests. However, feel free to request a oneshot, drabble, headcanons, prompts or preferences!

Currently writing for:

NCIS:

Gibbs

Tony DiNozzo

Ziva David

Tim McGee

Ellie Bishop

Abby Sciuto

NCIS: New Orleans:

Dwayne Pride

Tammy Gregorio

Sonja Percy

Sebastian Lund

Chris LaSalle

Hannah Khoury

Overwatch:

Ana Amari

Ashe

Baptiste

Brigitte Lindholm

Hana Song

Genji Shimada

Hanzo Shimada

Jamison Fawkes

Lúcio Correia dos Santos

Jesse McCree

Angela Ziegler

Moira O’Deorain

Fareeha Amari

Gabriel Reyes

Reinhardt Wilhelm

Jack Morrison

Sombra

Satya Vaswani

Lena Oxton

Amélie Lacroix

Zarya

Zenyatta

Detroit: Become Human:

Connor

Markus

Kara

Simon

Elijah Kamski

Gavin Reed

Luther

North

Ralph

Marvel Cinematic Universe:

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Bruce Banner

Wanda Maximoff

Natasha Romanoff

Loki Laufeyson

Thor Odinson

Peter Parker

Vision

Request something!

#ncis x reader #ncis imagine #ncis nola x reader #ncis nola imagine #overwatch x reader #overwatch imagine #dbh x reader #dbh imagine #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine

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ao3feed-widowtracer · 7 years

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Be It Guilt or an Extra Round Of Ammo

Read it on AO3 at http://ift.tt/2tcXpuc

by wolf1Ez

Lena reads some story 76 loaned her and finds herself in deep thought.

Lena's feeling sentimental and Amelie’s just trying man.

Words: 1053, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Overwatch (Video Game)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F

Characters: Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Lena "Tracer" Oxton

Relationships: Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix/Lena "Tracer" Oxton

Additional Tags: Fluff, References to Tim O'Brien, Mentions of Death, Mostly fluff tbh lmao

Read it on AO3 at http://ift.tt/2tcXpuc

#widowtracer #overwatch #tracer #widowmaker

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tonyduncanbb73 · 6 years

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Beer & Mortar: Six Trends That Will Dominate Boston Beer in 2018

The styles and approaches that will set the tone this year

Beer has bumped shoulders with some strange trends in the past few years: barrel-aging beer in spirit barrels; dry-hopping; and even the use of untethered, “wild” yeasts like Brettanomyces.

Hilariously enough, all of the above techniques are old news now. It’s a testament to how fast the beer world moves forward and how quickly certain styles or approaches dart in and out of the spotlight (remember when people wanted their IPAs to be bitter?)

With a new year upon us, a number of beer trends and approaches will likely define 2018 and set the course for years following. Some of those trends might be brand new; others may only become more ubiquitous. Here are six predictions as to what will characterize Boston’s beer scene in 2018.

Let’s See What You’ve Got

Facebook

A feedback flight from Aeronaut Brewing Company

Beer ownership is an important issue these days, and independent brewers are doing everything they can to advocate authenticity. Small business, in any industry, has always been about favoring people over commodity, and beer is no exception. To better connect with consumers and champion a genuine business model, local spots will likely be providing more transparency on all fronts.

We’re already seeing some breweries doing such. Some are tapping test batches of beer before scaling them up, often labeling them with something like “v3.0” so drinkers can taste-test and leave feedback. Others are reaching out and asking what people want out of their product, spanning styles to even names, and delivering on those interests. Many places are simply lifting the veil and letting customers into the brewhouse to see the day-to-day. However it’s done, anticipate local breweries getting their devotees even more involved in their business this year.

More Hops, More Haze

Alex Wilking for Eater

Idle Hands Craft Ales

Probably no surprises here. With the momentum IPAs and heavily hopped beers have developed over the last few years, the style shows zero signs of letting up anytime soon. Hell, even breweries in the Midwest and West Coast are making New England-style IPAs now. If anything, expect the trend to snowball more: More hops, more unknown and exotic varieties from across the world, and more of that opaque, orange juice haze.

It’s a safe bet that brewers will also dig into their arsenals and further find ways to accentuate those potent flavors. Adjuncts like lactose and fruit purées have already proven successful, and a few Boston spots have already begun to tap into that. Upping the booze content has also picked up steam, with more breweries dialing in high-alcohol triple IPAs and hop-forward beers breezing past 15 percent ABV. Even adding hops to styles that don’t normally flaunt them, like lagers and lighter ales, will only become more commonplace.

Not Your Mother’s Macro

Tim Oxton for Night Shift Brewing

Village Lager by Night Shift Brewing

Speaking of lagers: With half of the craft beer crowd wanting beers so hoppy they taste like straight fruit juice, others long for a return to simplicity and drinkability. But at the same time, drinkers aren’t keen on falling back on the light, watered-down beverages that introduced them to beer. Enter craft lagers: flavorful, well thought-out takes on classic pilsners and European-style beers.

Jack’s Abby in Framingham has carried the torch locally, and many breweries — such as Night Shift and Idle Hands — are joining in, with more spots likely to ride that wave in 2018. Whether these flavorful lagers run parallel to the IPA craze or eclipse it altogether remains to be seen. More than likely, both will just happily coexist.

But I’ve Had That One Already

Shutterstock/Deanna Krause

A flight of beer

Variety is the spice of life. It’s also the defining trait of craft beer today, for better or for worse. In the age of Untappd and flights, many modern drinkers are more interested in their next beer than the one in front of them. Consumers want to try everything, and breweries are starting to shift their catalogs to account for that.

This year, that will probably manifest as a drop in flagship beers and a rise in one-off, small-batch beers. Rather than put weight behind a core roster, more spots can be expected to crank out new and exciting beers in rapid fire succession. We’ve already seen this with the rise of rotating beer series, which continuously cycle through different hop combinations or experimental recipes to keep things fresh. In due time, those might be the new norm.

Local This, Local That

Facebook

Notch Brewing Co.

All drinkers are in the pursuit of local. Drinking a beer made nearby means you’re supporting a local business, a nearby town, or a go-to watering hole. In 2017, locality in beer meant the rise of taprooms as neighborhood gathering spaces. Rather than finding the night’s spoils at a dingy liquor store, patrons flocked to lively and personable tasting rooms—like Notch in Salem—to drink right from the source. They still do.

This year, expect more breweries to embrace local with their ingredients. Instead of having malts and hops shipped in from other states or countries, places like Exhibit ‘A’ and Aeronaut are already calling up Massachusetts-based businesses to help make their beer. Two spots in particular, Valley Malt in Hadley and Four Star Farms in Northfield, have become commonplace to see printed on cans.

Locality in beer also continues after the beer is finished brewing. More breweries nowadays are looking for ways to give back to the community around them by donating spent grains to farms or dining ventures, reaching out to activism groups, or even offering their space as a conduit for discussion. That outreach is only going to pick up steam.

Wow, What A List

Alex Wilking for Eater

Gulu-Gulu Cafe in Salem

With on-site sales and foot traffic at breweries on the rise, expect local restaurants and bars to begin cashing in on changing tastes. Whereas tap lists once had hefty selections of macro lagers and corporate-owned swill, expect to see a shift toward well-curated selections of local booze and more limited offerings. Many places, including local pizzerias and even Gillette Stadium, are already making the switch by offering sought-after IPAs and various local pints. It won’t be long until even your favorite dive starts serving (or at least stocking) more premium options.

Beer & Mortar logo by Emily Phares

This story is part of Beer & Mortar, a series in which Eater Boston contributor Alex Wilking explores the beer scene in Boston and beyond. Stay tuned for new installments each week, featuring profiles of both classic breweries and soon-to-open ones, reports on local beer trends, and more.

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music-production-news-blog · 7 years

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Funeral Advantage announces new Please Help Me EP, shares “CEOT7K” — listen

Funeral Advantage announces new Please Help Me EP, shares “CEOT7K” — listenhttp://consequenceofsound.net/2017/01/funeral-advantage-announces-new-please-help-me-ep-shares-ceot7k-listen/Tyler Kershaw’s dream pop project blends uplifting melodies with downer themes.Photo by Tim Oxton When Funeral Advantage came onto the scene in 2015 with Body is Dead, it was a project that presented hopeful ideas…

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#advantage #announces #funeral #help #please #shares

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gebo4482 · 1 year

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Captain Midnight

#captain midnight #tim oxton #indie games #horror games #simulation games #screenshots #itch.io

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gebo4482 · 3 months

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silkbulb test

#silkbulb test #tim oxton #oxblud #indie games #horror games #gif #screenshots #steam

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tonyduncanbb73 · 6 years

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Beer & Mortar: Six Trends That Will Dominate Boston Beer in 2018

The styles and approaches that will set the tone this year

Beer has bumped shoulders with some strange trends in the past few years: barrel-aging beer in spirit barrels; dry-hopping; and even the use of untethered, “wild” yeasts like Brettanomyces.

Let’s See What You’ve Got

Facebook

A feedback flight from Aeronaut Brewing Company

More Hops, More Haze

Alex Wilking for Eater

Idle Hands Craft Ales

Not Your Mother’s Macro

Tim Oxton for Night Shift Brewing

Village Lager by Night Shift Brewing

But I’ve Had That One Already

Shutterstock/Deanna Krause

A flight of beer

Local This, Local That

Facebook

Notch Brewing Co.

Wow, What A List

Alex Wilking for Eater

Gulu-Gulu Cafe in Salem

Beer & Mortar logo by Emily Phares

0 notes

tonyduncanbb73 · 6 years

Text

Beer & Mortar: Six Trends That Will Dominate Boston Beer in 2018

The styles and approaches that will set the tone this year

Beer has bumped shoulders with some strange trends in the past few years: barrel-aging beer in spirit barrels; dry-hopping; and even the use of untethered, “wild” yeasts like Brettanomyces.

Let’s See What You’ve Got

Facebook

A feedback flight from Aeronaut Brewing Company

More Hops, More Haze

Alex Wilking for Eater

Idle Hands Craft Ales

Not Your Mother’s Macro

Tim Oxton for Night Shift Brewing

Village Lager by Night Shift Brewing

But I’ve Had That One Already

Shutterstock/Deanna Krause

A flight of beer

Local This, Local That

Facebook

Notch Brewing Co.

Wow, What A List

Alex Wilking for Eater

Gulu-Gulu Cafe in Salem

Beer & Mortar logo by Emily Phares

0 notes

tonyduncanbb73 · 6 years

Text

Beer & Mortar: Six Trends That Will Dominate Boston Beer in 2018

The styles and approaches that will set the tone this year

Beer has bumped shoulders with some strange trends in the past few years: barrel-aging beer in spirit barrels; dry-hopping; and even the use of untethered, “wild” yeasts like Brettanomyces.

Let’s See What You’ve Got

Facebook

A feedback flight from Aeronaut Brewing Company

More Hops, More Haze

Alex Wilking for Eater

Idle Hands Craft Ales

Not Your Mother’s Macro

Tim Oxton for Night Shift Brewing

Village Lager by Night Shift Brewing

But I’ve Had That One Already

Shutterstock/Deanna Krause

A flight of beer

Local This, Local That

Facebook

Notch Brewing Co.

Wow, What A List

Alex Wilking for Eater

Gulu-Gulu Cafe in Salem

Beer & Mortar logo by Emily Phares

0 notes

tonyduncanbb73 · 6 years

Text

Beer & Mortar: Six Trends That Will Dominate Boston Beer in 2018

The styles and approaches that will set the tone this year

Beer has bumped shoulders with some strange trends in the past few years: barrel-aging beer in spirit barrels; dry-hopping; and even the use of untethered, “wild” yeasts like Brettanomyces.

Let’s See What You’ve Got

Facebook

A feedback flight from Aeronaut Brewing Company

More Hops, More Haze

Alex Wilking for Eater

Idle Hands Craft Ales

Not Your Mother’s Macro

Tim Oxton for Night Shift Brewing

Village Lager by Night Shift Brewing

But I’ve Had That One Already

Shutterstock/Deanna Krause

A flight of beer

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Gulu-Gulu Cafe in Salem

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tonyduncanbb73 · 6 years

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Beer & Mortar: Six Trends That Will Dominate Boston Beer in 2018

The styles and approaches that will set the tone this year

Beer has bumped shoulders with some strange trends in the past few years: barrel-aging beer in spirit barrels; dry-hopping; and even the use of untethered, “wild” yeasts like Brettanomyces.

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