Lilith's Manifesto
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I am so very very tired right now.
The tiredness is deeper than bones (I remember seeing her bones when I picked her up from the floor), deeper than soul (I thought mine shattered and torn and broken beyond weft and weave), deeper than…
These haven't been lab notes in some time. I don't need notes. That's not how my power works. Not how I work. Maybe not how any tinker works, really. They're comforting, they're a crutch, a placebo, almost. These have always been journals, streams of consciousness. Arguments with myself, maybe. Attempts to pretend that the easiest thing to fix was a muscle strand, or a mistake or…
It's hard to find words like this. My trade is words, but from that day my soul was blood and bile and bone. I am shriven.
And Taylor. What has become of my girl. What have I done to her.
When I saw the heroine following her I first thought it was a strike against me. Selfish? Arrogant? But for all my many flaws I'm not stupid. She doesn't I couldn't suffice to say, Taylor found my actions and found them wanting. And they were, they're - desperate flailings, they're cupping water in my hands as it pours and froths in.
What do I want?
I want my daughter to be safe and happy. She isn't, right now. Because of me, because of my mistakes. I have to really own that, that I made mistakes, that I failed. Failed. Failed.
How do I make her safe and happy?
Unclear. I think I'll try - having her be without me, for a time. I've failed enough - maybe she needs to leave the nest, or seem to do so, early.
No, she needs real independence and I'll try to be a safety net because I do not trust that blonde, blithe, smiling girl (Gloryianna? Gloria?) but maybe Taylor will be happier that way.
Safer…
I don't think anyone can be safe in this city. In this world, the way it is. I see Kurt and Lacey living hand to mouth with no support, I see literal, actual Nazis walking the streets of the city to say nothing of those who support them and claim they do not fly the flag, I see those who dragged my husband from his car and murdered him and a part of me thinks she was right, Chrissy was right, fuck the system, fuck my stupid moderate, slow pace of change dumb righteous twenty year old self, let's burn it all to the fucking ground.
But I don't think Taylor would be safe if I started a hot revolution either.
So we're going for a mix and match approach. I'll make what I can, I'll make my monsters, my children, pretend they're pets. Build my influence and empire and I'll smile and smile and still be a villain - a pantomime villain, since that's the way the world sees these things, and underneath what they think of as a 'real' villain (I that am not shaped for sportive tricks) - and slowly I'll wind my way round them, whisper poison in their ears, set their council against each other, and laugh as the corpses pile up to feed my girls.
I want to change this city. I want to save this city. I want Taylor to be safe and happy.
Lilit was the first wife of Adam, and was cast from Eden for not being subservient before him, or because she found love elsewhere. She is cast a trickster, a demon, a mother of monsters for daring to be born of the same clay.
I've made so many mistakes. I'm a terrible person. Everyone has a Taylor they are trying to do right by. I will bear the burden, for them, I will take the blame. I will murder and become more terrible and more monstrous by their hands to end their hands. My body and mind sing for it - look how easily the words flow now!
Let me be Lilith, then, if that's what I must be to make my daughters safe.