2022.01.20 11:23 v0idbab3 Has polyamorous in a monogomous relationship ever worked out? (F23/M21)
I (F23) am polyamorous, and honestly, it's the only thing about my sexuality/love preferences that I am sure about. It comes with a stigma so I've had a really hard time finding advice or information about polyamory that is unbiased and accurate. But anyway, back to the original question:
I am in a relationship with a guy, let's call him Alex (M21), and we've been together about a year and a half. He is strictly monogamous and with that comes all the things I do love about a monogamous relationship; he wants kids someday, a marriage, and stability. I want all of those things and have so far been 100% okay being monogamous, but occasionally I have terrible dreams like I did last night. I dreamed that I cheated on him with someone I have never before been attracted to, but in the dream the guy was really upset about something and I went to comfort/talk to him (said guy is one of my coworkers) and ended up in his bed. In the dream, the guy and I never actually did anything except I laid in his bed and held him while he talked about why he was so sad. The intention was there for sex in the dream, I remember thinking in the dream "this is wrong" and then suddenly people started appearing at the doorway and...watching? Alex's best friend appeared at the doorway and started filming on his phone, and then Alex peeked around the corner and I remember seeing a completely broken look on his face before he took off. The dream had like a cut-to and then I asked Alex if we could talk and he said "you knew what would happen if you cheated on me. We can talk but know that I won't stay."
This is a conversation we've had, about how every girl in the past has cheated on him and that's his one dealbreaker. Because of my polyamorous feelings, I literally live my life in fear that one day I will have a lapse (as I am mentally ill and have a history of manic decisions that ruined a lot of things) and hurt him. The last thing I want is to hurt anybody. So my question really is...does a monogamous relationship ever work out for someone who knows that they are poly? I really want it to and I love him so much. I just woke up with a pit in my stomach this morning from this awful dream and don't really have friends to talk to, so I am trusting you, Reddit.
TLDR: I am poly, had a dream I cheated on my boyfriend even though I love him and broke his heart. Woke up feeling dark and wondering if I can get rid of this part of myself to avoid hurting him or anyone else, or wondering if anyone ever has done so before.
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2022.01.20 11:23 cbvv1992 🔥50% Off Code – $5.99 3Pack Sekepingo Iced Coffee Cup Sleeves Reusable Insulated Sleeve for Cold Beverages Drinks!!
|submitted by cbvv1992 to DealAndSale [link] [comments]|
2022.01.20 11:23 Qc-larry21 Top Gun 😁
|submitted by Qc-larry21 to NoMansSkyTheGame [link] [comments]|
2022.01.20 11:23 babababrandon Great Pyr mix only pees inside, right after going outside with no success?
Hey y'all! I adopted a 1.5 year old (estimated) great pyrenees mix this last Saturday. She's super sweet and I love her, but was a stray before being picked up by animal services and I think she's having a little trouble adjusting to living in my second floor apartment. She will poop outside more often than inside (though there are still accidents, which I imagine are expected especially so soon after adoption).
The main thing I'm kind of confused about right now is that I'll take her outside in the morning/evening, we'll stay out there for around 15 minutes or so, but she just sniffs around and doesn't do anything. Then, a few minutes after we get inside, she either goes inside her crate, or in the bathroom.
Here's my "process" for how I'm trying to potty train her:
2022.01.20 11:23 hackintosh-expert [SUCCESS] MONTEREY Installed 💙 • Laptop • Model • Razer Blade 15 Advanced Model (Early 2020) – RZ09-033 • CPU • i7-10875H • GPU • HD630
|submitted by hackintosh-expert to Hackintosh_Expert [link] [comments]|
2022.01.20 11:23 tomhobler You can't buy Zeri but not ban her
| At the time (15:00 EUW) you cannot buy Zeri now, but you are able to ban her. But at least we know the icon now XD.|
submitted by tomhobler to leagueoflegends [link] [comments]
2022.01.20 11:23 PermitFinancial3275 NATIONAL LEAGUE EAST
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2022.01.20 11:23 Prestigious_Ice6915 steal heart
|submitted by Prestigious_Ice6915 to surrealmemes [link] [comments]|
2022.01.20 11:23 7IMSchmitz Influence of degree of polymerisation on burning.
Could somebody tell me if polymers with higher degree of polymerisation will burn more difficulty than polymers with lower degree of polymerisation?
I‘m wondering why cotton burns flawless and viscose didn’t.
submitted by 7IMSchmitz to chemistry [link] [comments]
2022.01.20 11:23 sirisaacnuton Anyone have a recommendation for a good heating/AC company to contact about replacing a unit?
Looking like I'm going to need to replace the outside part of my AC system pretty soon, so I was wondering if anyone had any experiences with good companies to contact. Or bad ones to avoid?
Local or national, small or large, no real preference here. Just looking for someone who'll do the job well. Thanks /orlando!
submitted by sirisaacnuton to orlando [link] [comments]
2022.01.20 11:23 Gutcha New battery after
Hi everyone. Last night my car battery was dead due to the cold in Canada. I managed to jump start with my friend's vehicule. It took a few attempts but we made it. I drove for an hour and a half just to recharge the battery. Everything seems to be working fine but is the battery ok ? Or do I have to buy a new one ?
Thank you so much for you help!
submitted by Gutcha to car [link] [comments]
2022.01.20 11:23 cryptocalbot Add to your calendar Ertha (ERTHA) event: KuCoin Listing - January 21, 2022
|submitted by cryptocalbot to kryptocal [link] [comments]|
2022.01.20 11:23 Thin_Acanthisitta696 Help quick got a meth pipe and need it for crack how do i break the bubble without completely ruining the pipe
2022.01.20 11:23 CasualCade with the update coming out tomorrow I'll be staying on 1.1.3.... is anyone generous enough to touch trade the nat dex???? im desperate.... 🥲
2022.01.20 11:23 SprayWeird8735 Deer in full fluff mode.
|submitted by SprayWeird8735 to duluth [link] [comments]|
2022.01.20 11:23 KishamuUchiha In the hospital so i just decided to sketch something
|submitted by KishamuUchiha to sketches [link] [comments]|
2022.01.20 11:23 Deka145 Bordel routier à prévoir avec les camionneurs antivax
|submitted by Deka145 to Quebec [link] [comments]|
2022.01.20 11:23 castella-1557 There appears to be no quick reprieve coming for rising house prices: “It’s not a bubble, it really is about the fundamentals.”
|submitted by castella-1557 to sanepolitics [link] [comments]|
2022.01.20 11:23 clrjhnn Constant burnout is normal under capitalism
|submitted by clrjhnn to antiwork [link] [comments]|
2022.01.20 11:23 nuzband ALBION COMMUNITY TIER LIST (lets create a perfect tierlist together)
in other gaming subreddit ,theres usually a community tier list where every subreddit member create an ultimate tierlist together,in which everyone can agree on
but sadly i never seen any community vote/community tierlist in albiononline sub
so lets try to make one ,heres the link for weapon tierlist for each activity in albion
if you disagree with the tierlist or the score, be free edit it yourself and dont forgot to leave a comment/note for your reasoning
submitted by nuzband to albiononline [link] [comments]
2022.01.20 11:23 ack1308 [OC] Walker (Part 10; Interference)
[First] [Previous] [Next]
[A/N: this chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
Pete was nearly two hours into the burn, just coming up to the point where they’d initiated the turnover, when he caught the edges of the radio chatter from far ahead. He had to sift through the static put out by the sun, but what he could hear was disturbing.
“… escue Golf Niner Niner Whiskey to unidentified ship, this is a restricted through-passage area. Vacate the area immediately, over.”
“… I say again, vacate the area immediately, over.”
“… er Whiskey to Oscar Romeo Five, we have an unidentified vessel encroaching on the grazer’s through-passage line. Failing to respond to hails, no return on IFF, over.”
“… meo Five to Golf Niner Niner Whiskey, you are authorised to close with that ship immediately and remove them from the area of operations, do you copy? Over.”
“… er Whiskey copies, remove unknown ship by force. Moving to comply. Golf Niner Niner Whiskey, out.”
The radio was scratchy at best, but he could still hear the outrage in the pilot’s voice. Orbital Rescue was in the job of keeping people alive, and the last thing they needed was some idiot blundering into the middle of a delicate operation like this one. Worse, they either didn’t have a working radio, weren’t on the correct frequencies, or were choosing not to answer the calls. Keeping their IFF transponder off wouldn’t help them much if G99W got close enough to put a searchlight on the hull and read off their registration details that way. And once the Heavy got its clamps onto their hull and dragged them the hell out of the way, they weren’t going anywhere except where Orbital Rescue said they were going.
He hadn’t spoken much with Mik after that first conversation, wanting to conserve her radio battery (and tanked air) as much as possible. Now, he wasn’t sure if she’d heard that exchange. If she asked, he decided, he’d tell her what was going on, but otherwise he wouldn’t worry her.
The minutes crawled by, his engines thundered, and his speed steadily increased. A pair of the aux tanks went empty at the same time—this was deliberate—and used the last gasp of their fuel vapours to kick themselves away from the rescue ship in diametrically opposing directions. Each bore a radio transponder, so they’d be trackable if anyone wanted to retrieve them.
“Golf Niner Niner Whiskey to Oscar Romeo Five. We have a situation. I say again, we have a situation …”
Pete sat up in his seat, chills running down his spine. A ‘situation’ was what Orbital Rescue called something that had gone seriously wrong. He fiddled with the radio, trying to narrow down the signal. Golf 9-9 Whiskey was still talking.
“… as I got close, the unidentified ship bolted. I still have them on radar, but they’ve dumped a load of gravel into the through-passage region. They did something to make it spread in all directions. There’s minimal chance the region will be clear by the time the grazer comes through, over.”
“Golf Niner Niner Whiskey, I copy gravel in through-passage region. Is there any way you can speed the dispersal of the gravel, over?”
Chills ran up and down Pete’s spine as he visualised the situation. For whatever reason, someone didn’t want Mik telling her story. Passing through the Earth-Moon system at over three hundred kilometres per second, hitting even one tiny fragment of rock would be like an impact with an ordinary meteorite bigger than his fist. A whole cloud of them … she and her crazy craft would both be chopped into fragments in an instant, space suit or no. And dead girls told no tales.
“Oscar Romeo Five, I can try to push through the cloud and make a hole, but I can’t guarantee to get everything, over.”
“Golf Niner Niner Whiskey, I copy that. You are authorised to clear a path, over. Break, break. Oscar Romeo Five to Outfield One, how copy, over?”
Pete toggled the radio switch. “Outfield One copies four by four. Am aware of situation, over.”
There was a long pause, one he couldn’t simply attribute to lightspeed lag. “Outfield One, have you been in communication with the grazer? Specifically, what is their manoeuvring capability, over?”
“Oscar Romeo Five, that is affirmative. I have spoken with the grazer. One soul on board, zero manoeuvre capability. I say again, zulu echo romeo oscar, over.”
Again the pause. “Outfield One, I copy zero manoeuvrability. What is your fuel situation, over?”
His mind racing in four different directions at once, Pete scanned his readouts. He thought he knew what was behind the question, but it wasn’t something he could be ordered to do. “Oscar Romeo Five, I’m ahead of the curve for fuel. If I redline it, I can get up to three, maybe three and a half gees. There’s a good chance I can match velocities before we hit the gravel cloud, over.”
There would be no time to stop or even turn to avoid the hazard once he did get close, of course. And while the modified Light was far more robust than the ridiculous framework Mik Wallace had ridden in from Mars, hitting any gravel at all would be like subjecting a ground-effect car to a sustained burst of machine-gun fire. Almost certain destruction for the Light and anyone on board.
When Commander Kenworth came on the line, he knew he’d been correct. “Outfield One, you’ve been at two gees for six hours now. Can you handle three and a half, over?”
This was the make-or-break question. His was the judgement call, to go ahead or abort the mission. Whatever he chose, they would support his decision one hundred percent.
But of course, there was only one choice he could make, and still live with himself. He took a deep breath, his muscles already aching. “I can handle it as long as it takes. Outfield One, out.” Next, he switched to the rear-aimed dish. “Orbital Rescue calling Mik Wallace. Come in, Mik.”
It only took a couple of seconds for her to reply; her voice was a lot clearer now. “Mik Wallace responding. What’s up, over?”
“I’m going to need to match with you before we pass Earth, not after. Once we rendezvous, here’s the plan …”
“I copy all that. Do you think it’ll work, over?”
The Orbital Rescue pilot—she didn’t even know his name yet—sounded calm and unflappable in her earpiece. “We’re going to have to make it work. Orbital Rescue, out.”
The radio went silent, and Mik settled back to wait. It was a sobering revelation that Cyberon could reach out this far and try to murder her before she could inform the authorities about what they had done, what they were doing right now. If she’d hit the gravel cloud and died, they’d only need a fragment of her DNA to grow more clones of her, to be raised the way they saw fit. At the same time, they’d have no more reason to keep Dani alive, so she would die too.
Not gonna happen.
Her stomach rumbled, but gently. While the ever-strengthening sunlight was providing her with both energy and oh-two recycling, she suspected she hadn’t been designed to entirely go without food or water. It would take her a very long time to die of starvation or thirst, but even her enhanced body wasn’t a totally closed system.
Peering ahead, she tried to pick out the thruster-flare of the rescue ship ahead of her, but he had to be tens of thousands of kilometres away, if not more. She wasn’t as good at orbital calculations as Dani was, so she could only guess at which of the points of light ahead was her salvation, or if she could even see it against the glare of the sun.
Carefully moving in her seat, she took an eyeball inventory of what she had on hand. Spare refuelling hose, check. The oxy-tank I threw on board at the Stickney depot, check. One empty space suit, size small, check. Toolkit, check. Outer clothing and boots, check. Breathing mask and pony bottle, check.
There wasn’t much else she could do. It chafed at her that she had to wait for someone else to come save her, but right now she was riding a roller-coaster without brakes (she’d seen one in a movie once) and there was no safe way to get off the ride. And even if they braved the obstacle and survived, there would still be the problem of stopping afterward.
Frowning, she considered the situation from all angles. An idea occurred to her, and she keyed her radio. “Mik to Orbital Rescue. I have a question, over.”
His reply, when it came, was strained, and she belatedly realised he’d gone to the full three and a half gees. Internally, she shuddered; going to five gees by accident had nearly killed her. He was doing this deliberately. Also, he was still able to function under that load, whereas she would’ve been crushed into the acceleration couch, unable to even speak. “Orb-ital Res-cue rec-eiving. Shoot. Over.”
She took a breath from the pony bottle to give herself the air to speak. “What kind of fuel does your ship use, over?”
If Pete had thought two Gs was bad, three and a half was horrific. Moving anything was a chore, and his muscles ached just lying back against the gel padding. He figured his internal organs would be bruised for a week or more; but if he pulled this off, it would be worth it.
Also, Mik’s little brainwave had provided the last piece to the puzzle titled how to get us both home safe and alive. The Heavy running Sunward wouldn’t have nearly enough delta-V to match speeds with them without draining its tanks dry; and sending out another rescue ship to rescue the first one held the potential of a cascade of catastrophe. Losing one ship on a mission was something that happened, but losing three or four would make nobody look good.
Fortunately, the ad hoc plan was working. Although Mik’s tiny radar return was still closing with him, the hard burn would allow him to equalise their relative velocities before they entered the Earth-Moon system proper, and give them a short amount of prep time before they encountered the deadly trap that had been set for Mik. Golf 9-9 Whiskey might have managed to clear most of the gravel out of their path, but ‘most’ was not ‘all’.
He’d been sent a least-time rendezvous flight plan by Oscar Romeo Five, which meant all he had to do was check on the regular that the flight computer wasn’t varying from it. He was fine with sitting there and doing nothing; trying to fly the Light by hand to a specific point in space and time while also dealing with the rigours of three and a half times his normal weight would’ve been asking for trouble.
When I’m done here, I’m going to locate the asshole who saw fit to dump all that gravel in our way, and punch him in the face. Repeatedly.
Ahead of him, the gravel cloud spread inexorably outward in an ever-expanding sphere. Behind him, Mik Wallace hurtled ever closer to near-certain doom.
It was his job to make sure they never met.
Mik saw the flare from the ship ahead of her before she heard his hail over the radio. “Orbital Rescue calling Mik Wallace, I read us as having a one-hundred klick separation. How copy, over?” His voice sounded better, now that he wasn’t straining to get his words out past a three and a half gee—in Martian terms, nearly nine gravities!—load on his system.
“Orbital, this is Mik. I read you five by five,” she said, wanting to sigh with relief but not having the excess air to do it with. “I have eyes on you, over.”
“Excellent. You’ve still got about one klick per second on me, so I’ll be dialling it back. We’ve got about three-zero mike before we hit the gravel cloud. If all goes well, I’ll be alongside in one-zero, that’s ten minutes to rendezvous, over.”
“I copy all that, Orbital. And thanks for showing up. I was starting to get a bit lonely out here, over.”
He chuckled at that. “You’re welcome. All part of the service, over.”
Over the next ten minutes, she watched him come closer, each measured burn reducing the disparity between his speed and hers by a precise amount. He was a damn good pilot, she’d admit that for free. While she was adept at making the rock-hopper do what she wanted by hand and eye, the ship he was piloting was a lot bigger and heavier than a ’hopper, and its reactions would need to be anticipated.
On what she estimated as the final tick of the last minute, he slid into place alongside her; a single flare from the thrusters eliminated the relative motion, and they hung in space next to each other as if they were standing still. From the side of the ship, a jointed arm unfolded, the clamp on the end reaching out with the same delicate touch that had been used on the ship’s controls, and latching onto part of the rock-hopper frame. Thus joined, they were essentially one vessel for the moment.
However, Mik wasn’t sitting by as an idle spectator. Unclipping herself from the five-point restraints, she reached down with her one working arm and removed the spare fuelling hose from its clips. It turned out that removing her boots had been a good move, because this let her hold onto the framework of the ’hopper with her feet while leaning over the side and attaching the hose to the fuelling nozzle of the tank. Not that it was easy, but she managed, because she had to.
When the small airlock opened and the space-suited figure emerged, she waved with the end of the hose and mimed tossing it to him so he could get the fuel transfer started. Orbital Rescue didn’t use precisely the same type of rocket fuel the ’hoppers did, but it was close enough that she wasn’t worried. What she didn’t expect was a sudden start, and the closest thing to a double-take she’d ever seen in anyone wearing an EVA suit.
“What the hell?” he demanded. “You’re Mik Wallace? Why aren’t you wearing the space suit? How are you even alive?”
Well, that answered the question (that she hadn’t even asked) as to whether people on Earth had ever heard of the Martian Walker project. It was also weird in another way; the last time she’d faced disbelief of this type was when she first met Dani. She was used to people knowing who she was and what she could do.
“Long story,” she said. “Fill you in later. Right now, how about we get this done?”
“Right. Yeah. Copy that.” He sounded irritated with himself, as if ashamed at his outburst. “Let’s do this.”
When she tossed him the end of the fuelling hose, he caught it on the first try. Dragging a tether behind him—yeah, that might be a good idea for me too, hey?—he hauled himself around his ship until he found a place to latch it on.
In the piloting sims she’d played, zero-gee fuel transfers usually involved an inert gas—helium if available, otherwise nitrogen—being pumped into the tank to force the fuel down the hose into the empty one. She couldn’t see if he was doing exactly that, but the fuel gauge on the ’hopper was going up, so she wasn’t going to question his methods.
The twenty minutes they’d had in hand seemed to run down way too fast, but finally the guy straightened up from the connection on his end. “Flow meter says zero. What’ve you got?”
Mik leaned over to look at the rudimentary control panel. “Says full on this end. What’s our time?”
“Ah … five mike. We’ll drain the fuel back through then disconnect, then I’ll move over—”
Five minutes. Cutting it fine. She shook her head. “No. No time. We’re too close. You tell your ship to let the ’hopper go and get over here. I’ll disconnect from my end.”
Just for a moment, she thought he was going to argue, but then he nodded. “Copy that.” She didn’t see him do anything else, and he didn’t speak out loud, but the clamp came loose and the mechanical arm retracted.
At the same time, she leaned over the side once more and worked the hose connector free. It came loose, spraying globules of rocket fuel randomly in its path. One got on her arm and she wiped it on her tank top; nothing penetrated her skin that she didn’t want in her body, but the stuff still stank. Hopefully it would evaporate by the time she got back into pressure.
By the time she pulled herself up to the seats again, the Orbital Rescue guy was there, staring at the decoy space suit and back at her. She could tell he still had questions, but they didn’t have time for that right now. Working quickly and efficiently, she disconnected the tank she’d used to inflate the decoy and sent the suit drifting away from the ’hopper with a shove. Putting the tank down next to the other one, she pulled herself into her seat. “Strap in,” she advised him. “Time?”
He did as she’d told him, having to let out the straps to their limit before they’d fit around him. His EVA suit was bulkier than the ones in the construction shack, probably because it was designed to last a lot longer. “Three-zero sierra.” Thirty seconds.
Even with only one working arm, she had her straps done up before he did, but he was only a few seconds behind her. Was that a twinkling cloud of death she could see ahead of her, or just her imagination? She wasn’t waiting around to find out.
Grabbing the control column, she hit the vernier thrusters, tilting the ’hopper ‘backwards’ and scooting them toward the rear of the guy’s ship. As soon as they were clear, she danced the ’hopper sideways to duck behind the bulk of metal, then spun the other way and flicked a quick burst to cut their lateral motion.
“Damn,” he said, his tone deeply respectful. “You can fly.”
From the person who’d neatly placed his multi-ton craft directly alongside hers with twenty minutes to spare, she figured she’d take that as a serious compliment. “So can you,” she said. “I’ve got a genetic advantage, though. My inner ears were designed to let me work easily in three dimensions, and I don’t get motion sickness.”
“I am definitely gonna want to hear more about that,” he said. “Is that the same genetic mod that let you not need a space suit? How did you make it from Mars to here without—”
Sparks suddenly erupted out of the ship ahead of them; off to the side, the still-drifting suit … exploded. Just shreds were left. “Shit!” she blurted. “It’s the gravel!”
“Sonova …” he muttered over the channel, and pointed. Plumes were spraying out from the sides of the ship; Mik thought she could identify air as well as what might have been fuel.
“I’m giving us some separation,” she decided. Turning the ’hopper so the rocket bell-muzzle pointed the way they were going, she gave the main engine a brief burst. Letting them recede to about half a klick, she spun them end-for-end and let out another burst to maintain that distance.
“We should be nearly through by now,” he assured her. “With the spread of the gravel cloud, I doubt the ship would be hit by more than a dozen fragments—”
The ship exploded.
His voice faded off into silence as they watched the fireball spread and then die, choked by the limitless vacuum all around them. All that proceeded onward was a blackened, twisted hulk, rolling aimlessly. Pieces broke off it, slowly separating and going their different directions.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “But it only needed one to hit it in the right spot.”
“Yeah. In history classes, they called it the ‘golden BB’. Right place, wrong time. Like … you ever watched the classics, like Star Wars?”
She chuckled out loud. “Oh, heck yeah. I love that movie. Totally unrealistic on so many levels, but yeah. I see what you mean.”
It was his turn to laugh. “Unrealistic, right. Says the girl sitting there who just went from Mars to Earth orbit in one week, without a space suit. Just saying.”
She rolled her eyes; not that he could see it, with the protective membranes in place, but it was the thought that counted. “Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. Me? I’m the product of applied science. X-Wings were built to look like fighter planes in space, and we both know it.”
“Oh, not arguing.” He looked around. “Okay, we’re past the farthest projection on the size of the gravel cloud. Now that you’ve got a full tank of fuel, how about we slow this puppy down some?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” Grinning, she rolled the ’hopper around until the main rocket was pointing vaguely Sunward. Thumbing the control wheel carefully, she increased thrust to the point that her arm began to pain her, and kept it there.
Just being back in control of the rock-hopper gave her a huge boost of confidence. She didn’t know how long the Earthman could go on a single oxy-tank, but there were spares on the ’hopper and rescue ships in the vicinity, so she felt certain help would catch up with them sooner rather than later.
“So, about my speeding ticket?” she asked with a smirk.
“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he replied, the chuckle audible in his voice. “I left my ticket book in the ship, anyway.”
Her laughter trailed off into the void as they continued the deceleration burn.
“Just what were you thinking?” The executive, a big man, towered over his protégé.
“She was a danger to us.” The younger man, smart enough to know that he was smart, but not wise enough to know what he didn’t know, answered confidently. “They won’t be able to connect the ship to Mars, and she wouldn’t have been able to give them details about our operations here on Mars.”
“So you tried to kill her, and failed.” One hand rubbed over his eyes. “If she had simply been rescued, we could’ve spun everything she said. The calibre of lawyers we can retain? By the time we were done, we would’ve been able to demand her extradition for multiple cases of murder one. But now … people will listen. Not to us, but to her.”
“We can still salvage this—”
“Yes. We can.” The big man raised one hand, and snapped his fingers once. “Security.”
“Sir?” Two body-armoured men approached.
“This man’s clearances and right to work in Cyberon have been revoked. He is to be let go.” He drew a deep breath, thinking. It was a pity to let go such a keen mind, but the boy had shown he couldn’t be trusted not to overstep the mark.
More to the point, the boy couldn’t be trusted. Not if he didn’t have any incentive to keep him loyal.
“Sir?” asked one of the goons as they took the young man by his arms.
“Make it look like a depressurisation accident. Condolences to his next of kin, et cetera, et cetera.”
The security men hustled his ex-protégé away, his sudden yell of panic cut off by an elbow to the solar plexus. Putting the whole grubby affair from his mind, the executive frowned as he looked out the triple-paned window at the desolate Martian landscape beyond.
I need that specimen.
And what he wanted, he always got.
[First] [Previous] [Next]
submitted by ack1308 to HFY [link] [comments]
2022.01.20 11:23 JensengTea Subtitles are making the picture blurry
I haven't seen anyone else with this problem. When I use subtitles - especially for anime/cartoons - the picture becomes blurry. When there is a break in dialogue (and therefor no subtitles are on screen), it's very crisp, HD quality. It's really distracting because the lines almost "flash" as they go back and forth between sharp and blurry. Has anyone else noticed this? I use Chrome on a 2020 Macbook Pro (Big Sur 11.2.3).
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2022.01.20 11:23 psych0matt93 Vehicle spawning
They nneed to limit the amount of spwaning its fucking bullshit having 4 helicopters attacking you that are allready op and the aa missle does fuck all damage
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2022.01.20 11:23 6wild6tornado6 I think these figurines are from the early 1980s. Mom's BF says they were hand painted by some guy (whose name forget but will try to find out) who was THE D&D painting guy of the era. Just curious if these are special in any way or what they mean to your community.
|submitted by 6wild6tornado6 to DungeonsAndDragons [link] [comments]|
2022.01.20 11:23 BetterTheDevil909 Senior Tory alleges MPs facing intimidation from No 10 over opposition to Boris Johnson
|submitted by BetterTheDevil909 to unitedkingdom [link] [comments]|