DiscoPosting

[Hard: Failure] — My god. It's beautiful. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen in your entire life.

— "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.

— Yes, Ukraine has no serious chance of coming out of this with anything remotely resembling a victory and the immediate brokering of peace has been the only sensible path forward for the past two years.

— 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.

— "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

[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.

— 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.