#airid

[ TW Suicidal Ideation, Gore, Horror, Sexual Content that is unrelated to the former ]

3/1/34 ADP 3 AM

We arrived today outside of a cabin, Edward was holed up inside in true Edward fashion. When we got inside, he’d tied a noose from the rafters. Now, I don’t know if that was a fail-safe-- something to end it if he started slipping into the Void, or if it was there-- just like Roland’s shot gun-- as a comfort. 

These Dead Sun people don’t know shit about the Orb, and just as we were telling them what their leader should have already told them-- It came. I think the Autarch gets faster every time it comes. Eilithe’s husband and..dog, whatever the fuck that thing is, they stayed up with the thing. Somehow survived too. 

We stopped in a tent town, and if it hadn’t been for Sev and Kurel’s fucking mouths we could have saved a lot of people tonight. Well, I guess it wasn’t Sev’s mouth, it was her fucking gun and her lack of being able to speak. 

Like all people followed by the Void, we settled on the church, and here I sit waiting for night to pass. There is a powerful presence here of Light, but I feel it being swallowed by darkness. And I cannot get WIllhelm’s last words out of my head.

“Beware the taint below.”

We’re chasing the Soul of the North. The orb has to be completed.

Airid DrucilleTidefell  

3/2/ 34 ADP 5 PM

Roland’s checked out today- I think he’s waiting for something to break down the church’s doors but nothing ever comes. We slept a good portion of the day-- at least Dead Sun did, so then we went about exploring the church. Dev found a load of shit--Peter was fucked off with the real weird priestess elf. Turns out she almost killed the priest that’s running this place. 

He’s got to be connected to this place-- because whatever that elf and Peter did, it fucked the Light around us. The whispers almost got to the half-elfie, she said she heard her mother. 

Light and Tide, I wish I didn’t know what that felt like. 

We found a map among the other things in the church, it’s hand drawn with not a  lot of detail, but it has.. off shoots, with red ‘x’s. Whomever made this was looking for our relic when means it was probably one of ours.

Airid DrucilleTidefell  

3/3/ 34 ADP  11 PM

 I want to recall tonight’s events, exactly as I remember them. 

We left the safety of the church’s light. Edward stayed behind because if any of us should survive it should be poor, sweet Eddie. Like we all decided, we headed West. The worst part seemed like it was going to be deciding whether to go left or right, we still had daylight-- but Fate is a cruel bitch to Blackholm and I think now Dead Sun finally understands that.

I’d been having that dream, where the Ripper got at me like it did Sheila.It was too fast and it went straight for me-- got me in the gut and if I hadn’t been so lucky as to get it with an arrow, it’d have tore my stomach out before the rest of them has a chance to get to me. It got that little Velly, and then it got Dev. 

I’ve never seen one of those Illidari in full transformation like that. Some how Ro’s pup Grits pinned that thing down, but I think it was Peter’s torch that kept it immobile. That thing hates the light-- any kind of light. Dev- or demon Dev ripped into that thing the way it has so many of my own. He’d have killed it, if the things didn’t crack out of it’s shell and slither away into the night.

We didn’t have time to wait for it to come back with three of us bleeding. Treated out wounds in a nearby house. Peter is a useful boy, I tell you that much. We found our way into the tunnels then. 

There’s nothing ever good that comes from paintings of the dead. The first we saw was Luther Blackholm’s--and it said below it ‘four lefts make a right’. Like Ro said, Luther was nothing if he wasn’t paranoid. The very next portrait I saw? Gran’s. Looked like the mean old bitch I remembered, but I couldn’t look long- not with that feeling of dread in my stomach because I knew that something was wrong with them. My Gran’s painting said something ‘Right is never right’

The Demon elf and his..wife, if that’s what she is, found a picture of the old manor. Dev stared at it too long, which is baffling, in that he has no eyes. Peter got roped in and  then shouted something about how they weren’t going to take his eyes, not yet. Dev says he saw me, Eddie, and Ro--in the painting of Blackholm manor. 

We took the fourth left.

Inside of that room, the stench was foul. It was only after that I learned the source of that was Bertrand West-- which meant Clarice was somewhere dead nearby. Shame- because for all of the curse, I think they loved each other, but in my experience, loving someone only makes your death more violent. 

The most important thing in that room was the horn- which Dev’s wife picked the lock on it’s case. Ro took it  so delicately, but that didn’t matter- Dev was screaming about runes unraveling. 

Then It came, Ro and I could feel it. 

I never run faster than when that thing is behind me, and Ro was right there before he wasn’t. It came out of a fucking wall, like it was nothing but paper when it was heavy stone and wood. It hit Ro hard enough that he shifted. 

Everything else happened so quickly, I told the others to run--Ro told me to run, but I couldn’t. And it wasn’t because of the horn, wasn’t because of the stone around his neck-- it was because I didn’t want him to be the next name in the book. 

I cannot say how, but we made it out. Eilithe’s husband and Velly ran off, I think they were hoping that giving the horn to Eilithe’s shadow- dogman thing would have worked in their favor, but the thing didn’t move. The Autarch attacked it- but the thing moved almost as fast as the Autarch. That has me wondering just what the fuck Eilithe is.

When the tunnel collapsed, I cannot lie, my heart sank. But in true Roland fashion, he came slinking out at the last minute holding a limp arm. 

We’re celebrating a bright night, a victory against the Void. When we came out of those tunnels the moon was high and the air was lighter. And I’ll drink to that every time.

Airid Drucille Tidefell  

3/3/ 34 ADP 4 AM

When we left the park tonight, we barely made it around the corner before he was shoving his hands down the back of my pants. Truth told, the last thing I should have been doing tonight was fucking Roland Murray, because there isn’t a man alive that fucks as hard as one that knows he’s going to die a painful death by his own hand or some Void creature’s. 

I miss him every time we go in different directions, and both of us know that’s not good for the cause. Yet every time, we end up tangled in sheets, with one or both of us having narrowly escaped death. He’s the type of man that’s rough as he is gentle, there’s a certain tenderness to the rutting.I think if I was able, I’d love Roland more than I already do.

Those things that are out of my reach. I can’t begin to fathom how my mother or grandmother ended up with babies. The Void doesn’t give a fuck if your with child. It doesn’t care if you love him-- it doesn’t care if you’re mid- throes of passion. It comes and it takes.

I’m looking over and Ro is finally sleeping like he should. I know he’d be pissed if I didn’t keep watch, but tonight was worth celebrating. And that means I’m going to curl up under his arm right after this and sleep.

 If we’re lucky tomorrow will be another bright night. As many times as he’ll have me, I’ll reward him for what he did in those tunnels tonight. When he wakes up sore- I’ll be atop him for comfort, and I plan to talk him into taking at least a day off. 

Even if the moon doesn’t show tomorrow, at least we’ll have had tonight in peace and ecstasy.

Airid Drucille Tidefell  

[TW disturbing imagery, horror, gore, nightmares ahead, suicidal ideation] If she shut her eyes, she could hear Roland breath in the room next to her. It was steady, like the way he rocked in his chair. Back and forth. It was the click of the shotgun  as it found it’s place on the floor- between Roland’s legs and pointed up to the ceiling. Creak. Breathe. Thud. Creak. Breathe. Thud. Airidia drew in a shaking breath herself- awaiting to hear the click of the hammer on Roland’s shotgun, but it never came. Roland wasn’t the only one to think about it. He wouldn’t have been the first to do it. 

For a long time, Airid had gotten to sleep at night by reading their names. Each one that had given into the nightmares and ended it all. And on nights like this, when she knew that that the sky was clouded and the moon was gone? She read them again and again to try and sleep for even an hour. The were written in a crumbled little notebook, keep close to her chest, she turned to the most read page.

... ..... Frieda Mathers, Lordaeron, jumped out of a tower window Marlon Vence, Stormwind, shotgun and a fifth of whiskey Miriam Tidefell, Drustvar, threw herself to the sea Derek Garde, Tiragarde Sound, pistol to the back of his throat Alicenna Tidefell, Drustvar, hanged herself

The first ten minutes of sleep were always the sweetest. Airid hummed, pleasantly under the blanket. It was always those first moments, where she felt something like-- those vices she enjoyed on a clear night with a full moon. The warmth was at her stomach, and pressed further down, like someone was licking their way across her flesh and to down towards her inner thighs.  “Mm,” she mumbled, her eyes still shut. “We havin’ a repeat of Menethil, Ro?” She chuckled, reaching to run her hands down to lace in his hair. But she did not find Roland’s head beneath the sheet. It was warm though--wet, saliva that was far too viscous to be saliva. 

It was a split second before she felt teeth dig into her gut, eviscerating her. When her eyes came open, they were met by a wretched creature that she knew as the Flesheater- naked, with pale skin that covered all by the thing’s gaping maul and pinhole eyes. It released it’s lock on Airid’s flesh and loosed a shriek before diving back in, digging all the way to Airid’s spine. Blood painted the room and she couldn’t scream- she couldn-- 

Airid shot up in bed, her golden eyes milk colored for a split second before they faded back in. She drew a ragged breath and rubbed her eyes. There was no wound and she was still clad in armor. And when she listened she could still hear it in the next room. Roland.

[TW Death, Gore, Suicide, Horror]

Entry 405

I’m getting too old for this--seen too much. Got a plan, but it isn’t a good one. This will be my last entry, perhaps ever. That’s why I’m addressing it to you, Alice, you keep this book and you keep that girl with you. Just like we planned, Northeast, Drustvar. You can see the old estate from the mountains there, take Air when she’s old enough, and for Tidemother’s sake-- don’t let her take the oath, Alice. Get her out. 

If they tell you I killed myself- they’re wrong. Never believe that. 

Miriam Vera Tidefell

Entry 406

Read the last entry at least one hundred times since Mother left-- I don’t know where she went, but when the nightmares come, she’s standing at the edge of the ocean. And she walks, and she just sinks. She promised me that she wouldn’t leave me alone with Airid-- and here we are. I’m taking Airid to the rest of the Cutwives to the place in the mountains-- getting as far away from the curse as I can.  Then I’ll keep working, Marlon says its helping--come and see her when I can. 

Alicenna Jean Tidefell

Entry 420- Fleshripper

We were headed back North, there was only one- but it was fast. Ran on all fours like an animal, had skin and the smallest circles for eyes. When we shined out lights at it, it shrieked, like the light hurt it. It’d run off,  then try to blitz us. Shining a light directly on it works, it will stop it in its tracks-- couldn’t kill it though, not before it go James. 

It dug straight threw him, like it wanted his intestines, specifically. It was the way a cat plays with a mouse it’s caught- no malice- it was just that thing’s nature.  USE LANTERNS OR TORCHES, AIM FOR THE HEAD!  Alicenna Jean Tidefell

Entry 510 

I dreamed about mom again last night- she was holding Airid by the hand and they walked into the water. 

It was not the typical torture-- I did not see them die in the horrid ways I see my fellow Blackholms. A quiet death, where I waited at the shore line unable to move to save them, unable to say a word. 

Alicenna Jean Tidefell

Entry 511

She took her oath today- mother forgive me. She is too much like you. 

Entry 607- The Autarch

Mother wrote about it, but she wasn’t the first. 

It was Airid’s first time seeing it. We all made it out alive this time and that’s more than I can say for my first time. I cannot bring myself to describe what it feels like to witness something like the Autarch. He.. It is bigger than any man or beast that walks the ground, when you look at it you almost feel compelled to stop. 

Like standing before a God. Maybe that is why Tilly knelt before him the night she died. 

Whatever you do, whomever reads this. If you see it, RUN.

Entry 609

We were moving South and supposed to be getting onto a boat there is a piece hidden within the reaches of Drustvar. We've decoded the book enough and Willhelm thinks it’s time we make our mark on it. It’s been some time now that we’ve added our marks- where the pieces are, how to get them. 

These relics have a habit of disappearing from our storage. We have to find a way back to them.

Alicenna Jean Tidefell

Entry 800

I’m getting tired.

Entry 805

Haven’t slept in four days- can’t tell what is here and what isn’t. Beginning to see why she did it.

Entry 897

 Airidia, I wasn’t a good mother but I do love you. Take this book and burn it. Go to the mountains in Drustvar like your Grandmother told me to take you so long ago. Lead the Cutwives and stay inside at night-- they can’t come for you if there aren’t any around.

I’m so sorry.

Mom

Entry 898

Alicenna Jean Tidefell, hanged by the the neck from the rafters of an inn outside Stormwind. If I was honest, I would tell you that I knew she’d been thinking about it everyday for the last year and a half. I’m thankful she held out this long. 

When I saw my mother there, pale and broken necked, eyes bugging out of her head, I almost felt relief. It is finally over for her and that’s the brightest side of this. 

Miriam and her never wanted this for me- but I’m stronger than both of them. Best way to deal with the curse is to beat it, so that’s what I’m going to do or I’m going to die by someone else’s gun. 

Ro and me are going with Willhelm and some of the others. He thinks he knows how to find the Orb.

[mild body horror, mild sexual content]

March 11th, 37 ADP

It’s been all too quiet since we got the horn. It’s been no rain and clear skies- and on nights it’s a hazy, we stay in churches. In the day time, I’ve been taking odd jobs, something to keep my mind busy. Lately I’m logging two hours a night-- more if I can get a few decent drinks. None of it’s restful though. 

Ever since the tunnels in the North, where I saw Miriam’s picture-- I cannot stop seeing her. That’s what the nightmare’s do though, take the shit you’ve seen- the people you love and they make it into your own hell. 

When I see Gran, the right side of her face is absolutely fucked- scarred like she’s been underwater for so long the sea life had nested in her skin. Her eyes were foggy-gold, and tentacles wiggled off her jaw and out of the socket where her right eye should have been. She was reaching out for me- and I’m positive that if she took my hand, she’d drag me down to whatever hell she’s in. 

She didn’t want me with Blackholm- but there was never a doubt. I’m supposed to be here. I’ve no doubt in my mind that Gran surrendered to the Void-- they say us Kul Tiran are close to the sea, no matter how far in-land we go it travels with her. And I believe that. But I also think that were the Depths are allowed in, so too are the Old Ones.I always wake up with the tentacles begin to rise out of the depths from behind her to drag us both down.

Every time I wake up, Roland’s sitting in the corner with his shotgun, the creak of that rocking chair and the thud of his boots. His head’s always laid back, and his eyes are always shut, like he’s listening to every moment that the night makes. His one eye always flicks open to look at me.

And then it’s quiet for a moment, me and him exchanging stares and silent words. Each time is the same- the rocking of his chair comes to a sudden halt and he sets aside his shotgun, slowly rising to his full height. Then he walks to me popping one side of his belt, looking expectant- like he knows precisely what I need to fall back asleep. 

All we can hope for is something or someone to forget with. 

Airidia Drucille Tidefell

March 13th 37 ADP

There’s a dozen different ‘advisements’ against fucking others in the order- at the very least- folks will tell you to fuck and then part ways before anything potentially fatal takes hold of you. Lovers are stupid in the field. Betrand and Clarice are a prime example of that. 

She ended up a husks, disemboweled for the key in her belly. And Betrand died a slow starvation in the room with the Soul of the North. And it’s a shame that’s the end of most long-terms in Blackholm. 

It’s easier for the Void’s hallucinations to get at you- when they have something as strong as love to play on. 

Typically, the waking dreams only hit me on a new moon- but when I was walking through the Dwarven District, I looked down an alley. And I swore with everything I am I saw Roland- fucking a whore over a crate. I’d be lying if I didn’t say it lit me up, seeing as less than twelve bells before he was inside of me. But when I got close..

It wasn’t a woman-- it was a husk, shrieking and clawing at the box while Roland thrusted vacantly-- like he didn’t know what was happening. And I was standing there- proper fucking horrified when a voice I didn’t know shouted. “Do you mind?!” 

il singolo d'esordio dell'artista 

Disponibile su tutti i principali canali digitali il singolo d'esordio di Airid, artista diciottenne nata a Pescara, intitolato "Senza nome". Il sound del brano è un elettro - pop minimalista, a tratti divertito, dal ritornello che aggancia immediatamente l'ascoltatore: <<“Dicono che sono fredda”…>>….e continua con un testo che esprime la voce narrante di un viaggio interiore (ma non troppo), tortuoso e a zig zag, tra pensieri, sensazioni, ansie e paure vissute   tra la stanza di casa sua e la vita che le si pone davanti, come un'altalena, dove lei si muove a volte da protagonista e a volte da spettatrice. Con una personalità ed un'identità in fase di costruzione, cerca quel nome per lei essenziale, che da un lato sembra si nasconda, ma dall'altro no, perché per trovarlo in realtà c'è ancora tempo e la libertà di vivere la gioventù nella sua totalità viene prima.

Ed allora Airid "tira su una linea finché tutto non le quadra”, ed intanto la sua età di adolescente le permette di prendere tutto con una certa leggerezza e di riderci, in ogni caso, forse anche un po' su. Nessun ordine prestabilito nella sua vita, perché lei sul mondo ci salta sopra così com'è, prendendo tutto e mettendosi in gioco, guardando l'insieme come se fosse su una ruota panoramica. Si gira, si sale e si scende come nei vari aspetti della vita e lei con la sua musica ci vuole raccontare la sua personale e vivace versione. Tutta da scoprire!

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