#matryoshka of lies

[dontforgetukraine]

"[Russians] have frequently bribed Western intellectuals and Western celebrities...very consciously for money. [Westerners] wrote things that sort of blurred this image of Russia as a colonial empire and presented an image of Russia as a civilized and wonderful country that is civilizing countries around it. And I'm thinking now of Voltaire who is still very much admired by intellectuals all over the world. Voltaire was paid by Catherine the Great to write pamphlets against Poland at a time when Poland was being partitioned by Russia and Prussia. So, this was a good example of how you can spend money in order to build up an image of your country that is not correct."

—Dr. Ewa Thompson, academic of Slavic studies

Source: Matroyshka of Lies: Episode 2: Supremacy

[yuviur]

Summer vacation, 4am.

Tons of easter eggs in this one! Click the image to find them (and for better quality ofc)

Close ups and process shots under the cut, description in alt text

[valtsv]

stories that are a matryoshka of unreliable narrators. you can't trust the person telling you the story. but then you realise that they don't even have much of a choice in the matter; the information they're operating on was told to them by an unreliable narrator. and when you interrogate their story, you realise that the lies go back even further. the tunnel goes deeper. how far are you willing to go to uncover the truth? how far will you actually get before you lose sight of what you came for in the first place?

[xxplastic-cubexx]

speaking as someone who is 5’6-5’7 and has two 6’ foot tall parents, i prommy that i am not exaggerating At All when i say movieverse!cherik have the ideal height difference for charles to fit under erik’s chin for hugs and kisses on the top of his head. i feel like a little matryoshka doll when i hug my parents and it’s my favorite thing everrr 🙂‍↕️👉👈

li matryoshka doll gotta be the most wholesome thing i read tonight ..... youre also incredibly right ....

[celestiarambles]

since @k0koii-yu got me thinking about angela once again, here are some speculations or “hints” that fans thought of about angela after she was revealed to be the mole (because after that moment that’s when ppl started to look into her character to try and find something that hinted at her being the mole)

warning for spoilers!! (also no hate to the people who thought of these!! i just think that a few, if not most of these hints were grasping for straws a bit)

- tv tropes literally said that she’s using her photography hobby as an excuse to send intel to sombra. maybe that could make sense, but it could also just genuinely be a hobby she’s trying out. pretty simple flat out said that angela’s a perfectionist: if she’s gonna use that as an excuse, then she’d make sure that the pictures were PERFECT perfect. plus what was sombra gonna do with a picture of two women catfighting on a rooftop? xD

- when she wanted to ‘borrow jack’ to demonstrate the murder using her scalpel in case 4. “she was trying to kill jack!” or maybe she was just joking? she has twisted humor leave her alone

- when she doesn’t appear during critical moments, like in the finale of the eurasia arc and when elliot got kidnapped. angela’s expertise mostly lies on biology and medicine, so she probably couldn’t apply that on trying to stop a satellite taking over the data of the entire world. and when elliot got kidnapped, she was probably just as worried like everyone else, and there could also be a possibility where she was the one who treated elliot’s wounds and bruises afterwards. if she panicked and expressed her worry about her teammate getting kidnapped, that still wouldn’t have helped the situation either. she would only do what she can do to help.

- “she probably planted cameras in those matryoshka dolls of hers” OR MAYBE SHE JUST WANTED TO DO SOMETHING SWEET FOR THEM LEAVE THEM ALONE 😭

[sidecharactersdomatter]

Thoughts I had during TGCF S2 Ep 7

One more half left to go!

Previously on TGCF…

-He’s squeezing his fist tight 

-Honey, the reason he’s not demanding requital cause he knows you never meant to cut him with E Ming

-What’s wrong is both man and sword are still upset for that mistake

-E Ming: No let him pet me!

Hua Cheng: Leave it!  It’s fine

E Ming: No I’m not! *sobs more*

-*Hua Cheng smacks E Ming*

E Ming: OWWWIIIEE!

-Hey that’s sentient mystical weapon abuse! I’m filing!

-Hua Cheng:Because it’s always crying!

E Ming: Because you don’t want to be vulnerable in front of him!

Hua Cheng: Useless

E Ming: NO I’M NOT!  

-See, there’s the sensory overload I was talking about to me that would be pain in your ears

-He still has the dice!

-That explains a lot

-“Hello Again” HAAAAAAAAAH

-“Oh come on Hua Cheng, teleport into Heaven.  *Tosses out soggy carrot* Sweep him off his feet, carry him off in style.” - Little John, Robin Hood (1973)

-And then the brain cell starts getting tossed around like a volleyball

-Well you know as they say, Heaven’s got a lotta stuff, a pair of dice ain’t one of them.  Also, pair of dice = Paradise, props.

-It’s the transmutation technique from the Fullmetal Alchemist series

-And then Feng Xin literally just went, ‘YOINK!’

-It’s a four!

-In they go

-There go the eardrums

-Could’ve told ‘em that earlier Qingxuan

-And four is the Chinese number for ‘Death’

-When you accidentally stumble into the opposite gender’s gym locker in junior to high during a tournament

-Not in the sauna!

-Try a badger mole’s tunnel

-Still could’ve told ‘em that earlier

-Now Mu Qing rolled a four

-That hair flip Mu Qing just did

-What are you doin in my swamp?!

-Gator boys!

-That lizard just blasted off

-Hadouken

-They’re just tossing swamp water at each other, that’s mature

-And even the gator people got scared

-Literally all the junior officials sneaking into the telepathic matrix:  FIGHT!  FIGHT!  FIGHT!  FIGHT

-Also:

NAN YANG!  NAN YANG!  NAN YANG!

XUAN ZHEN!  XUAN ZHEN!  XUAN ZHEN!

-And every other official just started another betting pool

-Qingxuan’s the only sane god in this pickle

-Just imagine the Gaang rolling the dice

-Yeah that’s pretty

-A water droplet

-Hey no interrupting!

-The same dark sword

-He does

-His huge ass goddang sword

-Round 2!

-A sword fight that could have the energy of Sokka vs. Piandao

-Hua Cheng gasped!

-The wind

-“Forget the forgotten” what Jun Wu told him in Ep 1

-His eyes glowed

-Ruoye just evilly grinned

-A.  Yeah I was wrong on the fight comparison with the sword duel in Atla book 3

B.  THAT’S IT!!!

-He spared your life be grateful 

-“All’s fair in love and war.”  Was that one of Sun Tzu’s teachings?

-Like the Crimson Rain Sought Flower

-“The perfect being you crafted in your mind is only just that.”  Well that’s a good lesson because in reality nobody’s actually perfect.

-“I never was that person.  Believing I was will only disappoint you.” That last sentence is also great advice for how we revere certain famous people.

-That old conflict and prejudice

-Scapegoats are never good

-Thank you Mengyou

-Another genocide prevented

-Mengyou wants to move forward instead of staying in the past

-It’s official, Mengyou is the MVP of Season 2

-Power is also knowledge aside from duty.

-He smiled as Fang Xin

-Thank you Fang Xin and Mengyou

-He was a good ruler

-He lied!

-Why did he kill the previous king and queen of Yong’An

-Literally any of my TGCF OCs witnessing Xie Lian laughing and then crying: Is he ok?

Also I heard about Xie Lian being indecisive on laughing or crying and another TGCF OC will be like: Laugh or Cry?  Just pick one!

-Hua Cheng knows he is not ok

-It’s like a Matryoshka doll and a punching dummy had a small ancient Chinese uptight baby

-That 3D dice toss and teleportation

-A cave

-He took his sword

-There’s no where to hide

-The orcs from Tolkien’s fantasy novels

-He doesn’t have the will to fight

-Smurfs

-Ghost disguise Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are instant sketching inspiration!

-They look awesome!

-Qi Rong mention

-In other words, Qi Rong sticks a blue candle on all his ghost goons and calls it a day

-Dumb as a sack of stones

-He’s got fangs!

-Who’s he gonna meet?

5 episodes left! 2 more acts left in chapter 1 of The Scrap Immortal and the Avatar

[sepublic]

I don’t care if you’re not an F-Zero fan, I need you to discover this unhinged lore I discovered about a racing game series. Because apparently this vehicle, called the Death Anchor, was originally an interplanetary ballistic missile stolen from the Galactic Federation, and some evil group modified it into a race car. But it’s still rigged to blow up and the current pilot, Zoda, doesn’t know this. And he’s racing it against a bunch of other racers in a highly-televised Grand Prix.

Now with that out of the way, I also want to discuss what this means regarding my desire for a Metroid show to share the same canon as F-Zero GP Legend and incorporate elements from it. Because now I want to allude to this fact by having a Federation interplanetary ballistic missile look suspiciously Death Anchor-shaped. Make it an Easter egg only the most hardcore fans can spot. Because this is simply the most insane thing ever to me and I’m also curious as to what the original missile looked like.

Does anyone in-universe realize the resemblance, do they believe it’s just a coincidence or simply made to look like it, or even if it was repurposed surely Zoda defused the damn thing right??? And then one day someone has to break it to him that he’s driving an active nuke on a race track within a city. This is something you launch from the surface of one planet so it can travel through space and explode on another planet.

Furthermore: When Zoda gets upgraded into his Hyper form in the GP Legend anime, he also gets a new, separate vehicle called the Hyper Death Anchor. I dunno if its resemblance to the original model is purely aesthetical, or if it’s also a repurposed nuke that hasn’t been defused. Because the last we see of it, it’s hurled inside of Black Shadow’s Dark Matter Reactor, which is also a bomb meant to blow up the universe, alongside Zoda himself. And the reactor is blown up, but by an outside source and without the necessary juice it needs; So the explosion is confined to the empty corner of space it originated.

But now I’m gonna say the big explosion we see at the end of the final battle isn’t just from the reactor going kaboom, it’s also from the nuke inside finally going off. And somehow Zoda, who was inside both machines in a matryoshka of explosives, survives all this unscathed and is last seen participating in another race. Using the original, canonically-repurposed and still-active nuke from before, his first Death Anchor. And he still doesn’t know that both vehicles were repurposed nukes still ready to go off, and that one of them did.

Is this a reference to Back to the Future? It’s an 80’s classic turned film trilogy involving a Time Machine built out of a car; Its inventor got the radioactive energy source he needed to power it by promising a terrorist organization to build a bomb for them if they secured said nuclear materials and gave it to him; He lied and sent them a dud. All of this prompts his friend to ask, you’re telling me this thing is nuclear? The Time Machine doesn’t explode, but the fact that a dangerous component was originally meant for a missile, and you can drive it, reminds me of Death Anchor…

Funnily enough, Death Anchor’s origins and volatile nature are lore from the games. Its pilot Zoda is canonically an enhanced, cybernetic human pumped full of chemicals to perform better. In the aforementioned GP Legend anime, he was revealed to have been created by Black Shadow in the future, and then sent back in time to get the main protagonist killed, to prevent his destiny. So, being sent back to the future to change the present, an explosive car meant to be a bomb at one point…

[turnupswritessometimes]

Butterflies - Ch1 - Lies of P/Alice Madness Returns

Relationship: P/Alice Liddell

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53898544/chapters/136426825

Next Chapter

Chapter One: How Alice Came to Krat

Wonderland had taken Alice the majority of her life to figure out the mechanics of. Whilst the asylum had been the catalyst for her visits, it had also been just as much a hindrance; it made her believe what everyone else told her; Wonderland wasn’t real. It was a figment of her imagination; her broken mind keeping her safe from reality, and she was mad.

That part had always made her want to laugh – Wonderland had never been safe; often times it was more dangerous than London.

The truth was, as truth generally is, more complicated than that. Instead, her experiments over the years, led her to conclude reality was, in fact, like a Matryoshka doll; there were layers to it. Wonderland was a layer on top of London, like a pair of spectacles over the regular world – thus, Londerland had occurred until she’d been able to separate the lenses from London. Alice had discovered a way of putting on those spectacles, thus encountering Wonderland.

It complicated further, because not everything in the two worlds had a direct correlation. Alice certainly did: most moves she made in London moved her in Wonderland too; a bar in London was the Carpenter’s lair in Wonderland. However, creatures like the Cheshire Cat certainly weren’t in England. (Unless he had been Dinah, and had, in Wonderland, been a boy, instead, but she couldn’t conclude that either way.) This aspect was a mystery, and Alice was left to conclude that some people just left bigger marks than others; like bruises running through an apple; only some reached through to the core.

These metaphors weren’t working.

Alice paused over her journal, her fountain pen wavering. First, she had compared Wonderland to glasses – something layered over the top, and now she was talking about bruises – something that went internally. That was contradictory.

Did it hugely matter? This journal was for her. Anyone else would conclude it the ramblings of a mad girl. The important point was Wonderland did not just exist in her mind. Wonderland was a different reality.

Therefore, it stood to reason, that there were more of these other realities. She had, through bumbling along odd jobs and meeting interesting people, discovered this to be true. On the way, she had also discovered how to slip entirely through to these worlds, instead of just partially through. This was extremely helpful in not finding her way back into an asylum. No more wandering in two worlds at once for Alice, thank you very much.

She decided to abandon the metaphors altogether, and packed her journal in her satchel. She would head down to the docks early. The theatre wasn't running shows for a good month; they had chosen February to make refurbishments to the building, and no one wanted to see shows now the festive season was over.

It gave Alice the time away from work to truly explore. That was what she planned: she was going to search for new worlds.

And, luckily, she'd made a few friends who were happy to take her on as a passenger on their next trip. It was ‘luckily,’ because good things generally didn't happen to Alice Liddell. At least, they hadn't, for a good decade. Now, it seemed that things were starting to change.

She wasn't the first to reach the handsome steamship she was due to sail on. A boy sat on the crates that were waiting to be loaded on, panpipes between his lips. He waved when he saw her, but didn't take the pipes away from his mouth.

She'd met Peter when he'd tried to sneak into the back of the theatre. He'd heard that people truly flew in the latest show, and he had to see it for himself.

Alice had known immediately there was something different about Peter. It was in the brightness of his blue eyes; the ruffle of his hair when there was no wind; the glint in his smile that was so unlike any London urchin. He wasn't a London urchin.

That much had become clear when she'd told him to buy a ticket like everyone else, and then inexplicably found him at her bedroom window the next evening. Her window, on the third floor of the boarding house.

Peter lived like her, between realities.

And currently he was working for Captain Nemo as a cabin boy. That was how he'd persuaded the Captain to let Alice join them as a free passenger.

Alice perched next to Peter on the crates, waiting for the rest of the crew to arrive. His pipes played a soft, haunting tune. This early in the morning, with the sun still rising, London was beautiful. Yellow lights flickered in the windows, and the smog was not so prevalent.

The men arrived. Captain Nemo was like all ship captains; gruff and growly with a good heart – and certainly had a better track record with his ships than the mock turtle, Alice thought. He chided Peter for slacking off, but ruffled his hair all the same.

Alice slipped off the crate to dip a joking half-curtsey. "Thank you again for letting me accompany you."

"None of that, now, Miss." He waved a beefy hand at her. "You can help us get loaded up, and all."

She had no qualms about that, so she did. She assisted in heaving the crates onto the ship. They were heavy, and left her sweating, but at least it felt as though she’d done something to earn her way.

It was nearly midday by the time they were setting sail. Of course, that was a figure of speech now. Instead of releasing sails, an engine was started up. The boat puffed out clouds of great smoke from a chimney, chugging them down the Thames.

Peter and Alice sat on the deck. It was drizzling, but not enough to be a true bother.

"So, why're you headed to France?" Peter asked. He sat on the rail, swinging his legs.

Alice leant her back against the metal rail, fiddling with the ends of her hair. It needed a good cut. "Charles Perrault."

"Who?"

"He was a writer. He wrote fairy tales. It stands to reason that he could do what we did. I'm hoping that if I follow his footsteps, I'll be able to discover them too."

Peter tilted his head to one side. Even in the gray day, his green eyes gleamed. "But why go looking for them when there's no guarantee you'll pass through?"

After all, Alice had not yet visited Neverland, despite Peter’s urging.

"Because it’s an experiment, and I jolly well won't learn anything more about all this unless I try."

Peter smiled, as though he was about to laugh at her. She narrowed her eyes at him. It didn’t quell the smile completely, but he didn’t tease her further. He stretched, almost overbalancing on the rail.

"I don't see why you can't be content with London and Wonderland."

It was a good point. Why wasn’t Alice content? Why must she search for more? Wonderland was twisted and dangerous enough – other places might be even worse.

She let go of the frayed ends of her hair. "I'm curious."

That was a lie. The real reason was that she had no reason to stay. Not in London, and not particularly in Wonderland.

Peter stopped stretching. His smile was even wider, his teeth very white. "Didn't curiosity kill the cat?"

Alice rolled her eyes. But she couldn't help her own mouth twitching. Just a little.

*

The had journey started smoothly. Most disastrous journeys did start smoothly, Alice supposed. The steamboat moved at a good pace. By the evening, they could see the line of the continent. They were easing their way around the coastline of Spain; threading the needle to reach France, and then onto Italy.

It was a relatively peaceful night, but the rain got heavier. What started as a pitter on the tin roof became a furious drumbeat. Became heavier and heavier, until it was as loud as hail. The wind howled at the tiny porthole in Alice's cabin.

She dreamt about the Mockturtle, and it was only when she woke in her own bed that she wondered if it really had been a dream. Either way, she was still stuck on a boat, in a storm. There was a distant roll of thunder. Yellow light flashed through the room so quickly that she wasn't sure it had even happened.

Alice knew the worst thing to do would be to fight her way onto the deck. But she still grasped the door handle, fighting to stay upright. The boat rocked on the waves.

Another flash of lightning.

She couldn't stay here. She couldn't stay in this tiny cabin and be thrown around like a sardine. It would kill her. Already she could feel a desperate, clawing panic in her chest. If she stayed, she'd be trapped in a tin can. If the boat sank, she'd sink with it.

She'd rather get thrown overboard. At the worst, she could fall back into Wonderland, and no doubt land on her feet, there.

There was shouting on the deck. Alice slipped, banging her knee on the floor, and fought her way upwards. The ship lurched drunkenly, the deck illuminated by another flash of lightning and the silver moonlight. Rain flew down in silvery sheets, competing with the roar of the waves.

The stairs seemed determined to attack her at every step, but Alice struggled on. Her breath came in great gasps, and she fought to keep hold of herself. She needed to keep hold of herself, or she would slip into Wonderland.

It seemed like years before she finally reached the deck. The men were just dark shapes, darting to and fro. Peter saw her, his boots sliding over the planks as he tried to reach her.

"Get back downstairs!"

"Not a chance!" she replied. The ship lurched again, sending them both slipping to the rail at the port side of the boat. Alice gripped it so tightly that the cold metal stung her skin. Her hair hung in her face. Her nightdress was soaked through already; the rain plastering the fabric to her skin.

The storm continued.

She clung to the rail as the ship moved the other way. Her feet slipped, and she nearly went head over heels. She hooked her elbow through the rail, hauling herself upright.

Peter had caught himself too. He looked like a seal; his hair plastered to his scalp. The silvery light made his eyes flash like a cat's. For a moment, he didn't look like anything from this world.

Then he was rushing to help a fallen sailor.

Alice clung to the rail and tried to catch her breath. The freezing rain stung her cheeks like ice. She looked up, through the silver and black, to try and see how far away from land they were. It didn't seem too far. They must be parallel to France, now, maybe even close to Italy.

There was something out there. Something bright, and blue. Something with wings, fighting against the wind.

It was a butterfly.

Yells sounded behind her. Rail pelted her on the back. Alice didn't move. The butterfly came closer. It was beautiful; seemed to be leaving a trail of glittering dust in its wake.

"Alice!" Peter yelled.

Alice lifted her hand from the rail. She reached for the butterfly.

And the whole ship lurched again.

*

The sea was cold and dark. Alice remembered little; she likely slipped through realities whilst underwater, to survive for any amount of time in that storm. When she regained consciousness, she found that she was still half in the water. It lapped against her legs.

Her front half was in something hard and bumpy. Her hands sunk into it when she pulled herself up to sit.

Shingles. And it was waves hitting her boots.

Alice coughed. Seawater didn't come up. Logically, she should be at least half-drowned, if not dead as a dodo. But here she was, on a shingle beach. Curious. She pushed her dark hair from her face, pulling her legs from the water, until she sat perched like a mermaid.

It was still night, with not even a streak of light on the horizon to signal dawn. At least the clouds had cleared enough that a strong moon shone down. The beach was abandoned. There were craggy rocks down the shore, and, more pressingly, there was a sea wall about ten feet from her. Like the kind the children said Brighton had.  If Alice squinted, she could see a chain rail, cornering off stone steps. Beyond the wall, she could make out the dark shapes of a city. A city, she suspected, that did not exist in France, or Italy, or anywhere in Europe. She suspected this was another reality altogether.

Not least because the blue butterfly was back. It fluttered down from the stairs, still heading towards her.

Alice's heart raced, but not from being thrown around by the waves. In fact, she felt none the worse for wear considering her sea trip. Her heart raced with anticipation. With excitement. Where was she? What wonders awaited her in that city?

"I sensed your power nearing us." A voice came, presumably from the butterfly. It was a soft, female voice. A voice Alice felt she could trust, from the outset – and that was a rarity. "Though, I must confess, I didn't believe I would be able to bring you here."

"I likely helped you," Alice said. “I have a few skills, like that.”

"Yes." The butterfly fluttered in place. "Your ergo is – different."

"Thank you." It seemed good manners, even if she didn’t understand that. Alice lifted her hand, and the butterfly landed on her fingers. It didn't weigh anything. In fact, she barely felt it at all. "I suppose we must ask the obvious questions. Who are you, and who am I, and do you need my help?"

"My name is Sophia," the butterfly said.

"And my name is Alice."

"I'm not sure you can help us, Alice." The butterfly's wings moved slowly. "Our city is in a dire situation, and I cannot ask you to put yourself in danger for a world that is clearly not yours."

"That's true, this isn't my world. But I'm not powerless, and I would like to help."

Because there was another sliver of silver on the beach; something else had washed up with Alice. She reached for it, careful not to jog the butterfly on her other hand, and her fingers found a familiar handle.

The vorpal blade.

It still snicker-snacked perfectly when she tested it in the air.

The butterfly fluttered, as though it was excited by this development too. Alice stood, carefully, her legs tingling. She'd noticed, as soon as she realised, she was wearing boots, that she wasn't in her nightgown any longer. Her outfit had become something familiar and dear. Her blue Wonderland gown, with her striped stockings and practical boots. Her omega pendant flashed on her chest.

It felt as good as chainmail.

"I will lead you to hotel Krat," Sophia continued, lifting herself from Alice and fluttering through the air. "It is a safe space, and we can talk face to face there."

"Thank you." It wouldn't do for Alice to forget manners. She followed the butterfly across the beach, her boots crunching in the shingles. It was easy enough to tug the chain to the steps free, and to make her way up them.

The moon and stars bathed everything in soft, white light, and Alice fell in love with it from first sight. It was patchworked together; it was buildings with gargoyles on the edges; was crooked chimney pots; was warm stones and cobblestones; was a fantasy from a gothic novel.

This was the city of Krat.

Sophia explained to Alice, as they continued down the streets, that Krat had once been very different. Was not the ghost town it was now, but a thriving seaside city. But then the puppets had – frenzied – and thrown the city into chaos. Puppets had been created to help humans; they were created to obey, and serve, and make life easier.

Alice could see why they might get tired of such a life.

She met one of these puppets, on their journey. A policeman lurched out at her from an alleyway. She raised her knife on instinct, slashing against its forearm.

The vorpal blade cut through the metal as though it was butter. Black spurted out, too shiny for blood.

The puppet lurched forward, and Alice got her first real look. A mechanical man, eyes empty, jaw gaping. It reminded her of those ridiculous puppet shows in Covent Garden.

She hated those puppet shows.

She drove the blade into its chest. When it didn't still, she plunged it in again.

It fell backwards, and clattered onto the cobblestones in defeat, making an almighty noise.

Sophia fluttered by Alice's cheek, as though she touched her face. She appreciated that.  She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. It wasn't blood, or tar, it was oil.

They continued.

Hotel Krat was beautiful too. The flickering halogen light was beautiful; the wide windowsills were beautiful; the abandoned tram line coming out of it was beautiful. It was beautiful because this building had dim, yellow light in some of its windows which winked like eyes.

Alice loved Krat. Krat was just as dangerous and broken as Wonderland.

It suited her, perfectly.

[purplebass]

A soft name but she uses it like a knife: an analysis of Lila's identities

Because I think about Lila so much and because I like to analyze names and symbolism so much... I realized something about her given names. I could write an essay about her multiple identities and Kell's but maybe in the future. Tes says that names are a valuable thing and people used personal names to curse those they disliked. Her birth name is Delilah which means "delicate". When Kell first meets her, he thinks that she has a soft name but she uses it like a knife, which is an accurate description of her character.

Only the people closest to her call her Lila, which is more informal. Lila Bard is a double faced matryoshka, we could say. There is one side she shows the people closest to her, which are few, and another side she only shows Kell. He's the only one who sees the tiniest doll in the heart of it all, and even so, there are still sides to her that he doesn't know. He's also the only character she openly told that it was fine to call her Lila after their first meeting.

According to other sources, Delilah could also be the epithet for "traitor" because in the Bible, Delilah cuts Samson's hair and he loses his strength (interesting fact that when Holland and part of Kell's magic end up in the inheritor, their hair turned white - could be inspired by this? Bets are on).

Delilah is also pronounced De-lie-la and I believe she is one of the characters who lies the most in this series and her pov is not 100% trustworthy (which I see as an amusing thing bc she is harder to figure out and it's fun when her lies are unmasked!). She introduces herself with her full name to everyone, but only few people keep calling her Delilah instead of Lila (among them Holland, Nadiya, and Ren). They aren't close, hence they don't dare to use her shortened name, I guess. It's also a way to distance themselves from her or to treat her with respect.

Delilah Bard is one of the identities she has, one she couldn't choose (because her parents gave her this name). Delilah Bard is the exterior, the person on the outside. Even when the text describes her and uses Delilah and not Lila, it's to paint a picture of her from an external point of view. We can explain who she is by thinking about a matryoshka doll: Delilah Bard is the bigger doll, the one everyone sees. Inside there are different sides to her: the magician, the thief, the captain, which have different names as well (the Sarows, the Shadow Thief, casero Bard, even Stasion Elsor).

Lila is the name she seems to prefer for herself, and the name which connects her to her magical part because one of the meaning of this name also refers to the lilac tree. When Lila calls her magic, mostly fire magic, she uses a line from Blake's poem: "Tyger, tyger, burning bright,". The "tiger lily" is also a species of lily flower. Her name Lila then encompasses her magical connection to Red London because it is connected to a flower. But it's yet another interesting connection to Kell because well, the tiger lily is orange-red with black spots. The tiger lily flower is also toxic for cats and we know that Esa doesn't seem to like Lila that much and the feeling is mutual. lol

If you want me to write about more of this stuff send me asks please 🥺

[doyoulikethis-vocaloid-song]

🎼 FEATURED SONGS (1-39)

Wonderful Nippon! by kagomeP

Fool by john

I Don't Care Who, Somebody Go Out With Me! by TakyuP

START by LeftyMonster-P

Aura by Ghost and Pals

Fear Garden by Chaa

Big Toy Box by Hikaruringo

Milk Crown on Sonechka by YUZY

Tiny Me by masarada

Dancing☆Samurai by Kanimiso-P

I'm Glad You're Evil Too by Pinnochio-P

Why I Hate You by Naminé

Fools are Attracted to Anomaly by Utsu-P

Datte Boku wa AI by Yukitsuki

Love Love Nightmare by kiiichi

World is Mine by ryo

ggrks- Go Google It- by AhmingP

Go to Daitokai by Tsukiri

今夜もパンタレイ by Yuuki Haruno

Kimi to Mita Sora no Uta by TAKU1175 & Ryota Kikuchi

A Crow's Trial by Vane

Blessed Messiah and the Tower of AI by teamOS

Matryoshka by Hachi

Rainy Bunny by Suyi (人形兎) Yu Li (雨狸) and OQQ

Manimani by r-906

Earphones and a Chorus of Cicadas by Orangestar

Higurashi Moratorium by TOTAL OBJECTION

Remote Control by WONDERFUL★OPPORTUNITY

Doping Dance by STEAKA

hitomania by Sasuke Haraguchi

Senbonzakura by Kurousa-P

名の無い星が空に堕ちたら by Subete Anata no Sei Desu

URUSaaA愛 of YM

I Don't Wanna Know by SEDO Sounder

Stop Nagging Me! by Owata-P

arson by SUB MARINE

Echo by Crusher-P

Ringo Uri no Utakata Shoujo by yukkedoluce

Dreamless Dream by Harumaki Gohan

And a Youtube Playlist so you can listen to them all! I'll continue to update this as the polls finish up! 💚

[psycho-static]

World rambling

You ever just make an entire universe theory in the middle of the afternoon?? Me too.

For a story known as the "Psycho files" comes with the theory temporarily known as the "Beyond the Universe Matryoshka" theory

According to the Matryoshka theory the external world beyond an earth (for example). can be broken down into 5 different layers

God(s)

Dimension

Universes

Space

And the "Core planet"

1-Gods. A dimension is said to be controlled by a superior force (or multiple superior forces) the gods, which keep the dimension and all things within it stable. With an imbalance of the higher forces comes with the dimension walls to become unstable allowing lesser external forces (like dimension travling entities) to enter the dimension and universes, causing possible chaos within and the destruction of that dimension and everything in, it as its inhabitants know it.

2-Dimension. The dimension is the shell, the home to all universes. It is what connects all of them as one. The dimension acts as a wall protecting its contents and not allowing forgein dangerous entities in, run by "the gods". It works almost like some sort of otherworldly membrane. Only few godly entities know what truly lies within the shell of ones dimension as its beyond the barriers of the seeable space.

3-Universes. Within all dimensions is atleast 1 universe, However there can be more the number of universes that could exist is possibly limitless. These universes are what need to be protected. Whilst all universes that live under a dimension can have incredibly different visuals, cultures inhabitants and even planets, there is always atleast 1 feature that brings them all together under the shell. Whether that be one physical trait or a similar asthetic or similar people. things could be wildly different between universes but atleast one thing is almost the same.

Depending on the stability of a dimension universes can replicate and mutate, merge, and destroyed. Its said to be impossible for a brand new universe to be created in a pre existing dimension.

The quick brown

4-Space. Pretty self explanatory. The space is the seeable part of the otherwise unknown world, containing; blackholes, milky-ways, planets, stars (ect ect) . Each space is unique to each universe.

5.Core-planet. And finally the core planet. The core planet is said to be the primary exhibitor of life. A functioning large scale society and ecosystem on a planet in which a history can be documented. In our case a "Core planet" would be earth. However, its said that a universe can have multiple "core planets" aslong as a sufficient life lives and a history is seen it can be classified as a core planet.

I hope that makes sense lol i feel like this has potential to be a really expansive idea/concept and i wanted to get it off my chest

Thank you for reading all who make it this far! :3

[dontforgetukraine]

Narrator: Another thing that Russian propaganda exploits to confuse foreigners about its imperial nature is the very definition of colonialism, which can be ambiguous and too centered on Western experience. Ewa Thompson: This anti-colonial drive and anti-colonial writings were strengthened by scholars from India and Pakistan, who were elementally opposed to the idea that there's such a thing as white on white colonialism. And they simply don't want to admit it.

Source: Matroyshka of Lies: Episode 2: Supremacy

[japanesedoramaandanimelover91]

Today we will see a new episode of the drama “Laughing Matryoshka” at 22.00 p.m. on japanese time and at 15.00 p.m. on european time. Do not miss! "Secretary's lies... Shocking relationship with mother and politician!?" Hiroko(Saki Takaoka), the real mother of Seike(Sakurai Sho), may have orchestrated the death of her ex-husband Yoshikazu Seike (Kenjiro Nashimoto), as well as the death of Councilor Takechi (Shigemitsu Ogi). Although such suspicions arise, Michiue is horrified when she learns that Hiroko visited the small restaurant of the Michiue family (Asami Mizukawa). When Michiue visits Ehime again in search of Hiroko, she learns that Suzuki (Tetsuji Tamayama) lied and said, "I don't know anything," even though he knew Hiroko. Why did Suzuki try to hide his relationship with Hiroko? As Michiue develops new suspicions, Suzuki remembers "one day" when he visited Seike's parents' house when he was in high school.

[bylertruther]

lol what if the first on screen byler kiss is actually like. a vecna induced hallucination on either of the boys. like . ohhhhh..... and then we as the audience is like. yas yeas yess yes !!! just to get fucking got . oh my god. i could see it happening to mike as like. a confirmation of his feelings and establishment to the GA of his Issues. especially coz like what if it's like the nancy bit where its not even clear if vecna is gonna like. kill him mikes just in the upsidedown and vecnas like... hey look at this 😈. oh Hell .

okay, listen. i LOVE these scenarios, but they're always ruined for me by the reminder that it would be vecna doing it. like when max thought she was hugging her mom and was instead hugging vecna, and when lucas was saying those mean things but when she hit him the illusion shattered and it was vecna. so like. if they kissed........ dbfjkhsbkfjhbds. you get me?

but! i do love the idea of the first confession going that way, which then prolongs the Actual confession. will is already in a weakened and fragile state going into season five, and i could see vecna preying on that just as he did in season two. on one hand, i don't think vecna is homophobic, but the way that he taunted max using lucas in their second interaction makes me think that he can get mean when trying to ensnare someone.

so maybe they're having a serious & intimate conversation together and mike says something incredibly heartfelt and sentimental as he often does, which makes us and will go AWWWWW 🥺🤧🫶💕💞 but then.. then.. mike gets mean. says something reminiscent of the rain fight's "what did you think, really?" + rink-o-mania's "we're friends! we're. friends." mentions how mike's life started after will went missing—that maybe asking him to be his friend wasn't the best thing he'd ever done after all. that this world would expect him to perform in its silly little play, just as it once asked him to, too. that there's no room for him here (no castle byers, the party joined hellfire club, he never received any calls or letters, etc etc), but... there would be room for him in their world. the one that they could build together, free of shame and hurt, where he would never feel like a mistake for being different. etc etc.

and as for mike... first of all, "mikes just in the upsidedown and vecnas like… hey look at this ��." I HATE THAT THIS IS LITERALLY HOW IT WENT? LMAOOOOO. made me giggle.

but omg back to business here. the way that i see vecna targeting mike... aughhhh. listen. liiiiiiisten. it'd be a matryoshka dolls situation. the party is working together, planning, and getting ready to defeat vecna. they feel good about it, or at least as good as they can right now, and mike is temporarily separated from will (otherwise will would sense vecna, i think). we know that he's worried, we know that he's trying very hard to keep his promise—that they will kill vecna. maybe he looks down at will's old dnd figurine or something of his that he left behind, and it's then that we hear a familiar voice.

vecna knows that mike is doggedly determined—that vecna needs to hit them here, where it hurts most, if he's to defeat them and get what he wants ("[you're] what holds this party together. [...] without heart, we'd all fall apart"). so, his attack is as follows: he goes after mike's leadership ability -> what kind of a friend he's been -> the lies that he's told & the truths he won't face, effectively reducing mike to a lying fraud and stoking his imposter syndrome.

he's not a leader. how could he be, when he isn't even a good friend? when all he ever does is hurt the people he "cares about the most"? always trying to prove something, always torn between two poles. vecna's known many actors like mike—people who think that playing by the rules in this play will save them, absolve them of the hurt they've caused. there's a reason he feels so guilty, a reason that only they are privy to. friends don't lie, and yet all he does is lie. he lies to his parents. he lies to his friends. he lies to his girlfriend. he even lies to himself. and he knows that... doesn't he? what a pity that "the heart" can't even listen to his own.

and then !!!!!! at that high point, when the seed has been planted and thoroughly watered, we jolt back to the present. mike is clutching part of will in his hand. he's shaken, but—but he has to be strong. he has to keep going. it's—it's not true. he is the heart. will told him he is, and—and will never lies.

... right?

[mariothepoet]

Bar Mates

on wobbly barstoolsin dark tavernsthe hurried world is a full stop the cantankerous,the crestfallen,and the abandoned meet, greet, and mingle we are a fellowshipof cracked Matryoshka dollsshowing off our hamstrung hidden inside and the beer is cold enough to freeze the momentand the lies get painted whiskey and tequilaand every so often one of us diesso we make merry and wait our turn there…

[harusphotos]

PILLOLE DI SHOWBIZ by Matryoshka: Lorenzo e la bellezza di essere "diverso"

Li chiamano "ragazzi speciali", "guerrieri", "bambini delicati", come se si avvertisse di dover mettere un'etichetta intrisa di buonismo alla loro disabilità. I ragazzi #autistici vivono ogni giorno piccole o grandi discriminazioni, spesso provenienti anche da chi meno te lo aspetti, da chi mette su enti e associazioni per tutelare i diritti di persone "catalogate" come diverse.

Accade così che Lorenzo Bonacina, braccio armato di #pizzaut, dove svolge con entusiasmo la mansione di cameriere, abbia fatto balzare sulle sin troppo comode sedie un'associazione che si occupa di #autismo perché avrebbe "osato" gioire della sua condizione. Un'anima bella e piena di cicatrici che, dopo anni di bullismo e crisi, ha finalmente fatto pace con sé stesso, complice l'impiego ottenuto grazie al progetto "PizzAut" messo in piedi da #nicoacampora e da famiglie volenterose e grintose di giovani autistici.

Un autentico controsenso, specie se paragonato ad una vicenda totalmente parallela e della quale si sta parlando in queste ore in termini non esattamente lusinghieri: il patetico show di #antonellovenditti ai danni di una ragazza disabile.

Viene da chiedersi quali parole, quali gesti, quale forma di orgoglio andrebbero ridimensionati: abbiamo tutti da imparare da Lorenzo e dalla sua gioia nell'essere non un ragazzo speciale, né un guerriero, ma semplicemente un ragazzo autistico. Punto.

#pilloledishowbiz #attualitá #disabilitá #concertozzo #realtime #pubblicista #matryoshka #harusphotos

(Foto tratta da #monzatoday)

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