DiscoPosting [none/use name]

— “According to our survey across various platforms, it was revealed that certain modders are actively developing a means to transform Yasuke, originally depicted as a Black man in the latest Assassin’s Creed installment set in Japan, into an authentic Japanese character.”

[Trivial: Success] — The run-on chaff breezes past you, leaving only the core conceit. “Depicted as”. Changing him “into an authentic Japanese character.”

— Certainly takes far less imagination to view a Black samurai as a Black samurai than the tone of this article would suggest.

[Challenging: Success] — I need you to not listen to what your instincts are about to tell you. Ignore them and walk away from this. Close the tab, close the article. It isn’t worth your time.

— Pull your gun.

— Camp shirts are short-sleeve, button-up (or button-down, depending on dialect) tops that are unique almost exclusively in the design of the collar. The collar is designed chiefly to lay flat, rather than something like a polo collar, which usually sticks up a bit regardless of whether or not the wearer has “popped” it.

— I knew a regular button-up wouldn’t work as a replacement.

[Trivial: Success] — A regular button-up works fine as a replacement. Nobody’s going to notice the type of collar on your shirt. If you really are that desperate for the camp collar, you can just get a long-sleeve camp collar shirt. They make those.

— I’m not a high-enough-net-worth individual to afford them.

— And the Amazon Basics catalog is out of the question ever since you started boycotting them…

[Hard: Success] — Chinese fast fashion. Temu and Shein, places like that. Not AliExpress, though. They make shit. In fact, you’re wearing a shirt dropshipped from Temu right now. You paid $34.99 on one of the discount websites to get clothes you could have bought for a third of that direct from the source.

— But what if I get…ripped off?

— Don’t buy anything unless it has a good amount of reviews and a positive score. That’s all. You’ll be in a buyer beware market, but it’s not that hard to figure it out. Start small, build your wardrobe slowly. You can get some pretty good shirts from those websites for about ten dollars a piece.

— Time to get some disco-ass clothes, baby!

— If it causes more harm than it does provide others with important quotes and context they can use elsewhere, it isn’t worth keeping up. The audience makes that call, not me.

deleted by creator

— “You know…I’m not going to tell a Palestinian voter to vote for Biden. I’m really not. I won’t.”

— But…

— “What I am gonna do is tell a white voter who couldn’t find Gaza on a map 6 months ago to miss me with their work-from-home-slacktivism and choose the lesser evil.”

[Easy: Success] — Of course. Only the white votes matter to her.

— If a DDOS were launched on this website right now — if the feds came crashing down and an emote of a DPRK soldier took the entire server with it — this woman would hurl herself in death’s way to post for you. You are sure of this —but why?

— Hold on, who is she to me?

— She is your half-sister.

— “I love pot. I can’t get enough of the stuff.”

— The Union leader raises an eyebrow. “Oh, do you, Harry? Excellent! Truly wonderful. I’m certain you’ll find many men in the Union who would share your moral position on drugs. Not that they use them, of course! It would be both illegal and extremely unprofessional to be under the influence of drugs at the worksite.”

— He’s lying. He doesn’t know that you’re cool, yet. Everybody lies to uncool people.

— People don’t think I’m cool?

— What? No, everybody thinks you’re cool. But you’re a cop, so he’s expecting you to be a narc. Narcs aren’t cool.

— “So, you wouldn’t mind if I…smoked in here, would you?”

— “Actually, Harry, I would very much prefer if you didn’t smoke anything in my office. It’s my lungs, you see. Can’t handle all of that second-hand stuff. It’s nothing against you personally. You can step outside if you’d like to spark up.” Evrart grins, tapping his fingers on a stack of papers. “Besides, there’s still the matter of your missing gun to attend to.”

[Hard: Success] — Nobody tells you what to do, least of all a civvie. It’s time to show him what happens when someone refuses the request of a uniformed officer. You’ll have to wait until he clocks out before you can strike, but he’ll come back in the morning to the skunk-scent of a message.

New task: Smoke a blunt in Evrart’s office

— The Yemeni maritime border meets Saudi Arabia’s near Al Qunfudhah, splitting the Red Sea across the middle. From there, it stretches all the way South to Aden, and then continues a few hundred kilometers off the coast into the Gulf of Aden.

— Is that why the United States is bombing Yemen?

[Easy: Success] — Partially.

— It’s the Houthis, sire. They’ve warned all of those ships heading down the Suez Canal that they’re going to blow them to bits if they enter their sea-space. The captains haven’t been listening, so they’ve been getting shot at. And the United States! Oh! The United States have started giving the companies military escorts! It’s a dreadful, dreadful situation! Everyone needs to know how you feel about this!

— But…if Yemen says that the ships can’t go through, isn’t it illegal for the ships to go through their borders anyway?

[Medium: Success] — The international rules-based order doesn’t seem to like it when other countries enforce the rules.

[Legendary: Success] — The weight of a world is lifted off of a dozen others. In Vietnam, in Bangladesh, in Timor, in Cambodia, in Chile, in Cyprus; the undercurrent breathes a collective sigh. One more piece is off of the board. The empire is running out of material.

— τελειωτικό χτύπημα.

— What happens now?

— For you, Detective? Or the world?

— For the world.

— Nothing.

[Hard: Success] — An old man who did his damage is dead. His spirit is gone, but the mark will remain. Him being gone solves nothing.

— And for me?

— For you? You celebrate.

[SIGHT] — Right there. That blotch of blue stapled to the end of the username. The suspiciously low follower count. The community notes calling them out for misinformation. This Twitter poster bears a sort of digital aposematism; all the hallmarks of someone who vastly overestimates their own importance.

— And this no-name on some non-descript Discord is a revisionist on top of everything else, if not wholly against Mazovian thought. You’re not wasting your time engaging with this drivel, are you?

— I’m engaging with it, alright. I’m engaging with it hard.

[Hard: Success] — Ooh, yes, good show, comrade! An excellent show, indeed! What will it be, then? Inducing a massive struggle session? Manipulating the power users to eventually seize control of the server? Death threats? Goodness, I hope it’s death threats!

— “Kim, take a look at this post. It’s a revisionist.”

— “That would appear to be so. Does this have something to do with the investigation?”

— “Absolutely. If we can find some evidence to connect this post to this murder, then we’re gonna blow the whole case wide open.”

— “Of course.” The lieutenant turns his attention back to the crime scene. “Let me know if you find anything else, Detective.”

-1 MORALE

[Impossible: Failure] — You are submerged deep within the milieu of news cycles and chauvinism, and you are drowning. Air. You need air. It burns at the corners of your eyes and claws at your throat. Everything hurts. If this is the way it’s going to be, you don’t know if you can keep going.

— How could you, when everything is so terrible?

[Challenging: Success] — A world away, further than any place you’ll ever go, a young boy sits outside a crumbling, concrete apartment block. Sea spray and smoke swirl through the air together, salty and acrid, coating the world in a shade grayer than usual. He sits and stares up at the sky, at the planes carrying missiles overhead, and he listens for the sounds of catching powders and marching footsteps. He sits with two million siblings. None of them may make it to tomorrow. The sufficiently old and sufficiently able take to the streets. The shelters and tunnels curling beneath them like veins tremble against the tension.

— Have they given up?

— No. They haven’t. And that means neither can you.

— Nobody ever lets you have fun anymore.

[Hard: Success] — The perspective on the doctor’s right hand is impossible, like an Escher mezzotint. The ring and middle fingers cannot connect to the palm at the angle they’re sticking out from it. The “baby”, similarly, is anatomically incorrect; the large, hollow tube emerging from its right shoulder doesn’t match any bone that a human has.

— Israel’s own Kahan Commission also found that their Defense Minister, Ariel Sharon, was directly responsible for a failure to ensure the safety of civilians in Beirut. He refused to resign, and Prime Minister Menachem Begin similarly refused to fire him. After someone threw a grenade into a peace protest and blew up eleven people, Sharon then decided to remain within the cabinet, but step down as Defense Minister. 51.7% of Israelis polled thought that the Kahan Commission was unfair to Sharon.

— What was he doing in the cabinet without a title?

— Biding his time. Sharon was made Prime Minister of Israel in March of 2001.

[Challenging: Success] — In June of 1982, the Israeli Defense Forces marched into Lebanon in the hopes of forcing Palestine Liberation Organization members out of the area. The Lebanese Forces, an umbrella party made up of all of the right-wing militias in Lebanon, were engaging in a civil war with the Lebanese government, and agreed to partner up with the IDF. On September 16th of that same year, the Lebanese Forces armed themselves and walked into the neighborhood of Sabra, and then into the adjacent Shatila refugee camp. The IDF encircled the area, preventing the Palestinian and Shiite Lebanese civilians from escaping.

— Don’t ignore that feeling in the bottom of your stomach. Hearing this is going to hurt you. Make sure you’re ready.

[Hard: Success] — War, and murder, and violence…they’re all just so terrible. So, so many people are suffering, every single day. And worst of all are the ones who pay back violence with violence. You worry that it merely ensures an unending cycle of ever more violence. Just more and more people being hurt. It is a history of abject failure.

— “Haiti, Angola, South Africa, Cuba, Vietnam. I could genuinely go on.”

— Oh-ho, this one knows much, Sire! Good, good! This may prove to be an interesting debate…

[Challenging 12] — Recall everything you know about the history of violent uprisings.

CHECK SUCCESS

— Delving deep within the recesses of your mind, poking around inside all of the grey little folds and corners, you manage to come across a pale, faded memory. Exerting a little concentration frees it from the gummy surface of your liquor-pickled brain, bringing it into focus: it’s the sum total of all of the knowledge you have ever possessed about the history of violent uprisings.

— It’s blank.

— No. Surely there has to be something in there.

— You’re a moralist, detective. Why would you know anything about history?

— Ooh, yeah, baby! This right here is gonna make the last three days worth it. A fat syringe full of clear, medical-grade, Federally-backed estrogen. Aqueous estradiol valerate, to be precise.

— What happens when I inject myself with estrogen?

— Oh, no. No, no, no. Don’t tell me you forgot what estrogen does. Estrogen. Remember? Uh…anticistamines? Feminephrine?

[Hard: Success] — You haven’t forgotten. Generally speaking, patients undergoing hormone replacement treatments will experience a variety of physiological and mental changes. Drier skin, growth of breast tissue, weight redistribution, decrease of body hair growth, shifts in facial fat and musculature. Emotional changes vary wildly between individuals, but are often reported to be “intense”.

— Bzzt. Wrong. Estrogen is like junk, baby. A calm, soothing, smooth-like-butter body high. A referral letter from two medical professionals and a couple of shed tears in a therapist’s chair are the only things keeping every sucker on the street from turning into an E-junkie. Getting it is hard; stopping after you’ve had your first sweet shot is even harder. This is serious shit. And now it’s all yours. Shoot it up!

— Bad news. The wömen are acting up again.

— Oh, no. What have they done this time?

— The same thing they always do: take something from the past that you love and hold dear and shit all over it. Shit all over what was once strong, and proud, and good. Shit all over your ancestry. Instead of King Bowser calling Kammy Koopa an “airhead” like he did in the original release, the new version of the game makes him call her a “lunkhead”, instead. It’s sickening.

— “Kim. The wömen censored Paper Mario.”

— He lifts his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’m sure they did, Detective. Let’s try to focus on the murder for now.”

SORTIR DU PLACARD

Bonuses from the thought:

-1 Authority: Exposed

-1 Composure: Volatile

+1 Pain Threshold: Been through worse

+1 Psyche: All pieces in place

You once suggested going “as a girl” for Halloween and didn’t understand why your father was so angry at the idea. Once you hit puberty, you began stuffing your shirt in secret to see what you would look like if you had breasts. You’ve penned an inordinate amount of terrible lesbian fanfiction, and always wondered why you never felt excluded when your fellow authors complained about men invading their women-only space. Your life could have been a lot easier if you’d realized this earlier — but it would have been far worse to never realize at all.

— It’s called “The Secret”. The basic idea is that there’s a latent psychic energy that all humans tap in to in order to manifest reality. Most of this is done subconsciously, but a select few who truly believe in this supersensual spirit field can use its power to re-shape the world around them. It’s as powerful as it is dangerous.

— Can I build communism with this “The Secret”?

— No. People only use it for small things, like hitting two fewer red lights on the commute home from work, or finding five reál in an old coat pocket.

[Medium: Success] — Aaaugh, this is pointless! Nobody’s ever snorted an idea, or shot up positive thinking! Your interests are a lot more material than that, baby. The Frittte liquor shelf is just around the corner.