that anon yesterday really ground my gears so lets quickly review some historical facts:
1. white men get accused of rape, pedophilia, and incest, and more often than not escape any form of tangible consequence. this is especially true when their victims are people of color.
2. men of color get accused of rape, pedophilia, or incest, and get lynched before there's even a trial. these accusations often come from white women to escape consequences for sexually assaulting the man in question.
3. rape and pedophilia have been used as forms of colonial-imperial violence to enforce white supremacy by both white men and women who, shocker, almost always got off with any consequences. and yes, its an issue that is still incredibly, horrifyingly relevant today.
4. people of color have been systematically painted as sexual deviants, incestuous savages, rapists, and child predators by white society from the moment they met us, which was then used to justify hundreds of years of enslaving, torturing, raping, and murdering people of color across the globe.
so, to review and add it all together:
rape, pedophilia, incest, and other forms of sexual violence are, first and foremost, an extension of violence, NOT sexual desire. treating sexual violence as solely an expression of desire is a privilege of white heteropatriarchy. when people of color open admit to wanting to engage in acts of sexual violence, they get killed. when white people do it, they make a new porn category for it.
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Prompt 218
“Moom, there’s yellow-eyed creeps fighting ninjas outside the window again!”
Danny sighed, taking a deep breath- in for ten, out for eight- as he set the pot he was cleaning back in the sink. Dan- currently six- came running in from the living room of the apartment, where he was watching TV. Or he should have been if not for the bullshit outside.
He sighed again, picking up baby Ellie- currently closer to two- out of her highchair (even if she could just float out) and let his oldest drag him to the window. Sure enough, another fight was happening, with no vigilante in sight stopping it. Look, he knew most people didn’t live here, but it was still rude.
“Jordan, remember how I told you how violence isn’t always the answer?” Danny asked sweetly, Dan’s expression shifting to a wicked grin as he opened the window. “Feel free to practice tossing some fireballs while I clean up your sister, yeah?”
Ah, the sweet sound of surprised cursing and startled ecto-signatures. Maybe they’d be polite enough to take their spar elsewhere.
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I haven't seen anybody post the full Riddle Chain yet (including Silas Birchtree) so here you go :)
I didn't find any of these codes myself by the way! I'm not sure who to credit for the rest of them, but I did get the Silas Birchtree code from @dismissivedestroyer (sorry for tagging you ^_^" if you don't want to be tagged let me know and i can edit the post). You can also get the answer using the code "STOD EHT TCENNOC"
(SPOILERS BELOW)
RIDDLE (would you like to play a game) > YES (what's Mcgucket's favorite soda?) > MOUNTAIN DONT (what's a medieval homonym?) > LYRE LIAR (the 20th ingredient of Anti-Cipherzing Tonic?) > HAROLDS RAMBLINGS (how is clown repellant made?) > UNION MADE (Bill's govt file number?) > 29121239168518 (who comes from Zimtrez 5?) > GREBLEY HEMBERDRECK (what's on Bill's flag?) > 3466554 (what leaves a thin line in the snow?) > TINSEL SNAKE (the 6th option on Bill's editing software?) > TORTURE MENTALLY (name an unpronouncable wizard) > XGQRTHX (where do Tri Angels come from?) > 333SUNDAPPLELANECOZYCREEKIL6071494611 (Bill Cipher's Lawyer?) > CAESARATBASHVIGNERE [or] MULTI LEVEL MARK (who defeated Silas Birchtree--?) > EMMALINE BUTTERNUBBINS (you've earned a treat! enter 'DISPENSE MY TREAT' to download) > DISPENSE MY TREAT
The 'treat' you get is under the cut
"BILL FILES DO NOT OPEN"
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irrational treasure 2 - the trembley supremacy.png
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remember the bermuda triangle.png
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TW: discussion of something approximating suicidal tendencies but with the usual crack programming of this blog
“Ah, High General Windu”, says Fox, pleasantly. “So we meet again.”
High General Windu raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him, Fox thinks, though it’s getting hard to tell with all the blood rushing to his head. “If I let you go, will you try to throw yourself out of another window?”
Fox makes a vague shrugging motion - or tries to, anyways. It’s hard to tell where any of his limbs are going, hanging upside down in the air as he is. “I am willing to discuss terms.” A bridge will do just fine.
Impossibly, the High General’s eyebrows climb even further up his forehead. “A compromise, then, esteemed Commander.” And so, he righths Fox the head way up in the air, but leaves him floating just above the ground, at which point several painted shells come skidding around the corner followed by billowing robes and screeches.
“WHAT”, says Kote, calmly, “THE BANTHA-KARKED, FORCE-LOVING KRIFF, FOX.”
“You’ll short out your helmet mic”, Fox advises him, sagely. Fondly, he thinks back to decimating his own on only his second time in the newly-christened official Coruscant Guard Scream Closet. He’d just received the comm about the Zillo Beast being transported to 000, and made sure to take his bucket off thereafter to improve the quality of his closet time.
High General Windu’s face does something complicated between sympathy and constipation.
Because the Galaxy doesn’t hate Fox enough already and Cody wasn’t enough on his own, Wolffe elbows his way through their batch to plant himself in front of him, shoulders squared and shaking with repressed rage. “If you try that again, dickhead”, he begins, in a low growl that quite frankly sounds more cringe that intimidating, “I’m going to resurrect you and then kill you again.”
“Ah, Wolffe”, Plo Koon says, in his deep, shivery timbre, “Remember our conversations about effective conflict resolution and communication of needs?”
Wolffe’s eyes narrow at Fox, because all non-Guard are sweet summer children who walk around buckets off on 000 like absolute lunatics. Fox prays they never have to find out why that’s a bad idea. “I feel”, his ori’vod presses out between clenched teeth, “that if you make me watch you throw yourself out of another window, I’m going to jump after you and strangle you on the way down, you little bitch.”
“That’s fair”, says Fox, and watches High General Kenobi bury his face in his hands. Wolffe twitches in place and makes an aborted groaning noise, the hypocrite.
“Excuse me, High Marshall Commander Fox, but I fail to see what’s so dire about this situation that the Jedi High Council and your brothers cannot help you solve”, says Windu, the only sane one left on this Force-forsaken bloated corpse of a planet. Behind the gaggle of Jedi and ori’vode already gathered in front of Fox, the rest of them come veering around the corner in a commotion that’s quite frankly embarrassing. High General Yoda is mounted on Skywalker’s back like he’s a race-Eopie, which is Fox’ only consolation.
He got up this morning at 0300, bleary-eyed and with a pounding headache as always, and all was right in the world. And then Fox got called into the Jedi High Council’s chambers and was ceremoniously informed that in the wake of Chancellor Palpatine’s unfortunate demise (hah), and through the emergency state of the Senate, as well as several invented promotions foisted on Fox to make the delegation of any and all paperwork less shady, he was now next in the chain of command and-
Well, Fox is the acting Chancellor, in short.
Haha, he had said, and been meet with several seconds of silence, until it got both awkward and exceedingly painful. Wait, he’d said. You’re kriffing serious.
Kriffing serious, we are, had said High General Yoda, and thus Fox launched himself out the first best window with a maniacal cackle of, you’ll have to catch me first!
And catch him, High General Windu sure did.
“The will of the Force this is”, Yoda interrupts Fox’ train of thought. He scans him thoughtfully from beneath his wizened brow, and hems to himself. “Shake things up, this will. Determine the fate of the Galaxy, this shall. A feeling, I have, that a good Chancellor you will make. A better one, hmmm.”
“That’d be high praise, if not for the fact that a dead lemming would make for a better Chancellor than the last one”, says Fox, drawing and indignant gasp from Skywalker. He doesn’t bother with either that or the green goblin’s cackle, lost in the deep sense of resignation that settles over his shoulders like a suffocating blanket.
“Alright, then, get me Thorn on the comm. As my first act in office, I’m firing all the Jedi. No offense, but you’re kind of a disaster. Then, someone get me to the Chancellor’s office, I’m calling Dooku to let him know the war’s off. And please get me Judicial, they’ll be up all night working on my datafolders - I’m having the Senate arrested.”
“Who - is - arresting - “, Bly pants, hands on his knees from where he’s just come sprinting around the corner with his Jedi.
Underneath his bucket, Fox smiles a smile that’s all teeth. “The Senate”, he says, sweetly, wondering if he’s just imagined the shiver that’s gone through the room. “I’m suing the Senate, and taking them all into temporary custody for abuse of sentient rights.”
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