na7sz 2zs49 4n6ae f74y3 49664 9yt5i fekdz 84hrt hf7dh aie46 7s63k z38ds hk2zr iyey9 25fy7 ryfyk bs67e fs6ez kn899 kitt6 tfz34 Okay muzzle-rubbers, this one is for you! |

Okay muzzle-rubbers, this one is for you!

2021.12.01 23:44 wja5277 Okay muzzle-rubbers, this one is for you!

Okay muzzle-rubbers, this one is for you! submitted by wja5277 to CirclejerkSopranos [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 theboijames Orochi mains can't 1v1

Change my mind show me one clip of am orochi main not ganking
submitted by theboijames to ForHonorRants [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 Fredfro2 AMD Issues with v2

Specs: Asus x570 Prime Pro R7-3700x EVGA RTX 3080 FTW3 Ultra
Received my Black Friday rev 2 (with new cable) today. Got 4-1 errors in WMR no matter which USB port I used.
Tried:
-Downgrading from Win 11 to Win 10 (fresh install)
-Upgrading BIOS to latest version
-Enabling legacy USB compatibility in BIOS
-Using a powered USB hub
-Setting all PCIe lanes to Gen 3 in BIOS
HP Support was very friendly but unable to provide me with a resolution. They ended up just suggesting that I return it. Any thoughts on steps I may have missed? I'm pretty bummed out, as this was my first VR headset, and I was really looking forward to trying it :(
submitted by Fredfro2 to HPReverb [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 stickmaster_flex No Separate Peace - Part 1 Chapter 2 - Hide and Seek

Chapter 2, Bigger, Longer, and... well, hopefully a little better written.
The Other Chapters
Part 1: Crust
Chapter 2: Hide and Seek
One week before the present day
Pete poured two mugs of coffee and carried them to the small round table, putting one in front of the trailer’s other occupant and taking a seat across from her. His dark blue suit was immaculate and completely out of place in the dingy room. Alice put her hands on either side of the mug, warming them against the ceramic. The portable office trailer was cold despite the server rack in the corner stuffed full of gear, churning away and masking their conversation with white noise. She sniffed. For all the gear in the corner was doing for them, heating the small space might be the most useful.
“Is it him?” She picked up one of the pictures on the table. It was a real photograph, shot by an analogue color camera, processed and printed by hand, then physically delivered to this little saferoom in the corner of a parking garage in downtown Hartford. In the months since their data feed had gone quiet, they’d had to relearn a lot of the old ways of doing things. Film cameras, one-time pads, dead drops, coded signals, all things out of 20th century spy novels.
“As best we can tell. The car is the right model and year, but our team didn’t get close enough to get the VIN. This was the best we could get for a shot of his face. He’s the right height, and the right age. Frankly, it’s the only lead we have. The guy is a ghost, Alice. No hits on the grid for how long? And now we’re reduced to sending out surveillance teams with cameras and verbal descriptions.” He sighed. “I think it’s him. It fits. After what the Shil did to him, after what we did, I don’t blame him for trying to find some quiet. Where he is, there’s nothing but quiet.”
“And we’re going to take it away from him. God forgive us, but we are.” Alice sighed. “Get it done, Pete.”
She picked up the picture and rubbed her thumb over the almost familiar face. A few wisps of hair sticking out from under a dark cap. The broad bridge of a nose barely visible above a scarf wrapped around the face and neck. Deep set blue eyes looked intently at an object outside the frame of the shot. She didn’t even notice the man in the suit leave.
“Where are you, Jim?”
Two days before the present day
Commander Blacktusk gripped her energy rifle tight in her hands, barely daring to breathe as she crept through the snow. She picked her way through the dense pine forest, head swiveling from side to side, pausing every few steps to listen. The Emperor’s Chosen were the most ferocious enemy faced by any Shil’vati on Earth, maybe in the entire galaxy. They’d already wiped out the rest of her patrol, then melted back into the snowy terrain like phantoms. Her body armor, strong as it was, wasn’t a match for the railguns they carried, and despite her elite commando training in winter warfare, they were on their home ground. They had the upper hand.
She skirted the trail they’d used to escape after ambushing her squad, moving far to the west to avoid the obvious trap they would have laid thinking she would charge after them. If her ground scans were correct, there was a perfect spot for another ambush at the head of that trail, and her instincts told her that was where she would find the Chosen. Her current path should bring her around on their flank. With her comm unit and HUD down, she had no way to call in an orbital strike. She’d have to rely on surprise, and her trusty rifle.
Her patience and instincts paid off. She crawled, arm over arm, up a steep slope to find herself on a rocky outcropping, directly above the probable ambush point. Peering carefully over the edge, she saw the entire contingent of cursed humans almost directly below her, in good cover and armed to the teeth, all focused on the path below. They were so close she could spit on them. Gathering her resolve, she slowly rose, raising her weapon to her shoulder.
“FOR THE EMPRESS!” Gabi screamed, throwing snowball after snowball down on her brothers. Hamza took one full in the face and fell theatrically backwards, screaming and rolling around in mock agony. Robbie turned quickly, a snowball whizzing by his ear as he dove for cover behind a tree. He leaned out to return fire, but didn’t have time to aim properly, and his throw went far wide. For all her small stature, Gabi’s aim was impeccable. “SURRENDER YOU REBEL SCUM!”
“NEVER! I’ll DIE before I surrender!” Robbie held a snowball in each hand, and charged Gabi’s position. He threw the first, and it went over her head. Gabi’s return fire hit him in the leg. His second throw hit her in the left arm, but her right was already throwing another that took him in the neck, snow falling down inside his coat. He reached her, and with a mighty roar, pulled her off the little rock she was using as a perch and pulled her down on top of him, grabbing a handful of snow and rubbing it in her face. She spun and returned the favor, both of them rolling and trying to get on top of each other until Hamza pulled them apart.
“Another win for the empire!” Gabriella declared happily. Both Hamza and Robbie grumbled, but had to admit defeat. Their sister moved like a mouse, and knew these woods better than the back of her hand. They all got up and brushed what snow they could off of themselves and each other. “Alright, rebel scum. It’s lunch time. Back to the prison with you.”
The three started off down the trail back to the house. Robbie was teasing Gabi, as he always did after losing at Maryland. “Aren’t you a little short for a Shil trooper?”
Gabi held herself up as tall as she could get. It didn’t help. “How come I always have to be the bad guy?”
Robbie laughed. “Who’s ever heard of a boy purp?” Hamza glanced over at him. Their parents used that word, and worse ones besides, when they thought the kids weren’t listening. He didn’t understand why they weren’t supposed to use them. He remembered seeing a few of the aliens, back before he’d come to live at the house, and he knew they did terrible things, but that all seemed a long way away from here. Maryland was just a game they played when they could escape chores and school, but the actual place might as well be on another planet. Except that he heard his parents talk about it in low voices sometimes. Times when he heard them use the other words for the Shil.
He frowned. As the oldest, nearly 12, he was supposed to be in charge, but as usual Gabi was leading the way. It didn’t bother him, though he knew his parents thought it should. Letting her take charge gave him more time to think, and to be honest she kept Robbie in check far better than he could.
“Dada’s going to town tomorrow. I’m going to go with him.” Hamza surprised himself by speaking aloud the idea that had been kicking around in his head for days now. Robbie looked at him, a sudden mix of frustration, anger and envy on his face.
“Then I’m going too.” Robbie stopped, crossed his arms, and glared. Hamza immediately regretted his words. Robbie wanted to do everything he did, even though he was only nine. Hamza resented it. Robbie got to go hunting with Daddy sometimes. Not that Hamza wanted to go hunting. He and Dada made bread most days, and Mama was teaching him about electricity. Neither of his siblings got to do either of those yet. But he never got to go anywhere.
“You know we can’t both go. Dada’s going to bring down all the pellets we made, and he’s bringing food back up. There will only be one seat. You will have to wait until Spring.” Hamza knew his logic was airtight, and that would end the argument. He started down the trail again, not looking back. Gabi was now behind him, looking first at Hamza’s back, then at Robbie’s scowl, aghast. Robbie wasn’t moving. Hamza was near a turn in the trail, and after another moment, he was out of view.
“You know Dada won’t take him. Dada doesn’t take anyone into town. Not even Sophie.” Gabriella’s voice was quiet and soothing. She tried to take her brother’s hand, but he turned away. Gabriella could see the tears starting in the corner of his eyes, and his fists clenched, nails biting into his palms. She could see the explosion coming. She had to stop it, now, or he would lose his temper, and when he lost his temper, it took him a long time to find it again.
“Robbie. You know I’m afraid to be by myself on the trail. Will you please take me home?” Never mind that she’d just hiked almost a mile by herself through the woods to surprise them. She reached for his hand again, and this time he let her take it. Still scrubbing his eyes with his sleeve, trying to pretend he wasn’t crying, he held tight to her hand and they walked together back to the house.
None of them saw the figure in the trees at the top of the ridge they were descending, not a dozen yards from where the snowball fight had taken place. When they had all crossed the threshold into the house, it rose, pocketing a notebook and snapping a few final pictures, before turning and heading down towards the main road.
Present day
Benjamin walked the short path to the barn, carrying a metal bucket in one hand and James’s thermos in the other. The boys were by the oak stump near the wood pile, Robbie holding a maul to the top of a wide log, while Hamza swung a sledgehammer and drove the wedge downwards. Benjamin saw the lean-to by the back door was already close to full with split logs, and Gabriella was running back and forth, bringing more logs to be split, and collecting the cut logs to stack by the door. He waved to the boys, and Hamza rested the hammer’s head on the ground to wave back. Robbie, still holding the handle of the maul, turned his head and grinned. Benjamin wondered how Gabriella got the two adolescents out of bed and actually happy to spend their morning splitting wood. Probably told them it’d get them out of schoolwork for a few hours.
He reached the barn and pinned the thermos under one arm, freeing his hand to open the latch and head inside. They called it the barn, but it was originally an old timber mill. It had clearly been through several iterations since then, finally ending up as a storage building when the property owner went bankrupt. It had taken years of work, but the structure was cleared out, repaired, and now served as their mill, workshop, warehouse, and power station. Most of that was thanks to the woman seated near one of the wood stoves, a big grey box on the floor next to her and the workbench in front of her covered with debris.
“Hey lady, brought you some breakfast.” Benjamin looked for a clear spot on the bench to lay out the oatmeal and pour the coffee. There wasn’t one. He stood looking at the mess of cables, copper-wrapped transformers, capacitors, circuit boards, noting maybe one piece in five that he could even try to name. Samantha still hadn’t looked up from her soldering, or acknowledged his presence. A wisp of smoke rose from the iron, she wiped its tip clean on a sponge, and switched it off before replacing it in its stand.
“Hey you. Here, grab a seat.” She lifted a red tool tray filled with hex wrenches and neat trays of assorted screwdriver bits off the bench and placed it in the matching metal toolbox, then latched the box and put it on the floor. Benjamin put the bucket and thermos down on the liberated space, and pulled up a wooden three-legged stool. He opened the bucket and pulled out a covered, enameled metal bowl, a matching cup, two thick slices of bread, and a spoon. Into the cup went pitch black coffee from the thermos.
“James’s special recipe. He got back late.” Benjamin noticed the bed roll by the wood stove didn’t look slept in. At least, not by a person. A barn cat was using it to nap in an early morning sunbeam. “Did you make it to the house last night?”
Samantha shook her head, already dipping bread into the oatmeal and stuffing her face. She took a break to swallow some coffee. “I gotta get this inverter working. Batteries are all charged up and we can’t use the power coming off the panels or in the batteries until I do.” She went back to the oatmeal. She swore she felt bits of crunchy bacon and tasted real cream in the bowl, though she was fairly certain neither had been on offer for weeks. She didn’t know how James could make something as unappetizing as plain oatmeal taste this good.
“The lights were working last night, in the kitchen at least.” Benjamin was skirting the real topic, but if he came right out with it, Samantha would stop eating, and he doubted she’d eaten since he brought her lunch the day before. She emptied her coffee and spoke while he refilled the cup.
“Nah, I pulled a couple of the batteries in the basement off the main array and wired them to a new little sub panel, then hooked up those LEDs above the table to run off the DC. It’s a test, not a proper solution, but if I can’t fix this inverter… The one I have in here can run my soldering iron and charge flashlight batteries, but nothing more than that. I want something in place in case I need to power the heater on the pump. If it gets really cold again, we’ll need it.”
Benjamin swore the bowl had been full 30 seconds earlier, and that Samantha had been talking for 25 of those seconds. She wiped the last crust of bread around the bowl and chewed, staring intently at a spot about six inches to the left of Benjamin’s ear. He recognized the look; her brain was tracing the wires from the batteries up the walls to whatever other stuff she had put in to get those lights working. He was on borrowed time now.
“Listen, James passed by a crash at the drop last night. The rest of us are going down to check it and see if there’s anything we can salvage. Can you watch the kids ‘til we get back?” Samantha came back to the present moment and looked at him questioningly.
“Since when can’t Gabi do it? If there’s salvage I want to see if it’s worth the effort.” She picked up the thermos but found it empty, so she started packing up the dishes into the bucket, adding yesterday’s plate and cup, along with a handful of other dishes and utensils that had found their way to this corner of the workshop.
“When was the last time you slept? It’s three miles down and three back, and James came home with a dead battery. There’s no gas for the truck. We’re going down on snowshoes.”
Samantha opened her mouth to protest, but was betrayed by a yawn. Truth be known, she hadn’t slept much the past week, since the inverter started giving her trouble before finally sparking and nearly causing a fire. “OK, daddy. You win.” She smirked at him, knowing how he felt about her using that particular moniker. She was visibly disappointed when he didn’t take her bait, and started to rise from her seat, taking a last look around to make sure everything was switched off.
“Samantha. There’s one more thing. The crash… there was a survivor. James brought him home. He’s, well, we don’t think he’ll be any trouble, but I want you to watch him.”
Samantha sat back down and looked at Benjamin. “So, we should call down to the valley and get Isaac to send someone for him” she said slowly.
“It’s… He’s a Shil’vati. We don’t know what he was doing in that car, but he was tied up in back, with two dead purps in front. Rachel says he’s been tortured. We’re hoping to find out more from the crash. But we need someone to mind the dogs and make sure he stays put. Can you do that?”
Samantha scowled silently for a long moment. Then she broke into a smile and started laughing. “I bet Sophie’s pissed.”
By the time the two were making the short walk back to the main house, the kids were already gone. The lean-to by the door was stacked to the top with fuel logs, and Benjamin was sure that the cubby by the hearth inside would be filled with kindling and pine cones. They were good kids, for all that he expected they were now off in the woods somewhere rather than inside with their school books.
He was only mildly surprised when he saw the children at the table finishing their second helping of breakfast. James, apron on and hair pulled back under a kerchief, was washing the dishes. The kids were sneaking furtive glances towards the dog crate, and at Sophie, sitting opposite the crate on the couch with her shotgun on her lap. Benjamin had badly underestimated the novelty of a trapped alien.
“Well, let’s see the poor blue bastard.” Samantha walked right over to the crate and crouched down beside the dogs. She absentmindedly stroked Duchess’s big head while she looked curiously in at the creature sitting with his legs folded under him, body wrapped in dog blankets, staring at the humans in terror.
“You don’t belong here, little guy.” Samantha’s voice was gentle, quiet as a whisper, like she was talking to a bird caught in the attic.
Dal’vad cowered. He was good at cowering. He had a lot of practice. Some women took pity on him when he cowered. Some liked it. Then there were those who would hurt him when he cowered, and then he would have to decide if they would stop if he stopped, or if that would just make them hurt him more. Overall, cowering was a safe first strategy.
He’d never seen anything like the human sitting across the room with the shotgun on her lap. Dal’vad had come across a lot of hard women. He had been able to get by, figuring out what they wanted and using it to stay alive. Usually it was the same thing, and he just needed to figure out how they wanted it. But this human wouldn’t come up to the tits of a Shil’vati woman, for all she looked like a retired marine with her hair pulled back in a tight bun and a face that looked like it could gore a turox.
Dal’vad cowered while he thought. He wasn’t being hit. That was good. They’d patched him up. He felt bandages around his stomach and chest, and saw a neat row of stitches down his left forearm. He felt like he’d tried to swim through a landslide. There were bandages around his wrists and ankles, and his hands and feet were regaining their feeling as they started to ache as well. He tried flexing his fingers and toes, and was relieved that they all moved. He was hungry, but more than that he was thirsty. If he wasn’t already dead, he figured they probably didn’t want him dead.
Before he could pursue any of those lines of reasoning, the door opened and three smaller humans ran into the room and made straight for the crate. The hard woman in front of him spoke a sharp couple of words and they stopped short. She pointed at the gun in her lap, then at Dal’vad, then at their feet, speaking more quietly. The small ones backed up, took off their boots and overclothes, and went to the table, still staring at him until the hard woman spoke again.
Dal’vad had never seen a human child up close. He tried to remember what he could about them, but could only recall that they developed roughly the same as Shil’vati until they reached maturity, when another strangeness of their species took over and the men became taller and stronger. He couldn’t tell whether these were male or female, but he was fairly certain they were children based on their size, the hard woman’s reaction to them, and their deference to her.
A bigger human appeared from around the corner, carrying plates and steaming bowls for the children. Now, Dal’vad could smell something. He could smell many things, mostly whatever creature usually occupied his current location, but this was something good. His hunger reasserted itself. The big human had brought a bowl and plate to the hard woman. He had long dark hair, down to between his shoulder blades and held back by a triangle of cloth tied around his head. It was very like the style of the few other men from his home village, though this human’s hair was wavy and curly rather fine and straight like his own. When he had enough hair to tell.
Whatever was in the bowls smelled wonderful. Dal’vad saw the plate held bread. He hadn’t had bread since he’d first gotten to this planet. He considered asking the hard woman for food, but he didn’t like her eyes, nor the gun on her lap. He doubted she was inclined to be nice to him.
The door opened again. Two more humans. The first walked right up to him, and Dal’vad could see her jacket had been stitched and patched repeatedly. He could see the dirt on her face and hands, and she smelled bad, like ozone and burnt plastic. The man was tall, maybe the tallest human he’d ever seen. He was as tall as a short Shil’vati woman, and broad across his shoulders too. He was head and shoulders above the curly man, but he had only sparse hair, the top of his forehead shiny and bare.
The dirty woman spoke to him in a voice that surprised him for being gentle. He caught the word “little”, but had no idea what she was saying. The tall man spoke to her, and to the hard woman. The curly man called from around the corner. Then the hard woman handed the shotgun over to the dirty one, who sat on the couch. The little ones cleared the table and filed out of his sight, each lingering a few extra seconds to get a good look at him.
Dal’vad heard another voice call from where they disappeared. A moment later another woman appeared, taller than the other two and with dark eyes. She tapped on the cage, demanding his attention, and pulled up her sleeve, pointing at her arm. Understanding, he uncovered his own left arm and showed her the stitches. She bent closer, eyes narrowing. She said something to him in a flat voice, gesturing to his arm, but looked satisfied.
A moment later the remaining humans were pulling on overclothing and boots, and then he was alone with the dirty woman. His thirst demanded attention. He thought the dirty woman didn’t look quite so angry at him, and hoped that her gentle voice meant she would take pity.
“Water, please.”
The dirty woman’s eyes widened when Dal’vad spoke. Her hands found their grips on the shotgun. The little furred creature was still growling, and now the much larger one lifted its ears and fully opened its eyes. The dirty woman spoke slowly and clearly. “You speak English?”
Dal’vad tilted his head. “Little. I speak little English. Water please.” He mimed drinking out of a container.
The dirty woman stood, swinging the shotgun around to point at Dal’vad. She spoke again, all gentleness gone from her voice. Dal’vad couldn’t understand what she was saying, but her expression had changed from what he thought was curiosity to what was clearly anger. The big creature got up on its four limbs, fixed him with a dangerous stare, and snarled. He backed up against the far end of the cage and covered his head with his arms. He made his voice small and frightened. It wasn’t hard, since he felt small and frightened.
“Speak little English. Water please. Food please.”
There was a tense moment when all he heard were angry noises coming from both beasts, the smaller one now up on its hind legs with its paws against the bars of his cage and making a horrible, sharp, bloodthirsty cry over and over. He squeezed his eyes shut.
“Bruiser, Duchess, down!” The small dog backed up a few steps and got down on his belly for half a second, then stood back up, clearly struggling to keep from barking and jumping against the crate. The wolfhound sat, her big head higher than the top of the crate. Samantha let the shotgun’s muzzle drop, holding it in one hand. She didn’t even know why she had it. It was easy to forget Duchess might weigh the most of anyone in the family, given how gentle she usually was. Bruiser, for all he weighed maybe 10 pounds, would hamstring the alien given half a chance. She gave Duchess a scratch under her chin, and patted her thigh to invite the terrier over. He growled one more time at the strange smelling creature in the crate, then trotted over and put his fore paws on Samantha’s thigh, and was rewarded with scritches behind his ears.
“Robbie, you might as well come out of the hall. You’re a terrible sneak.”
The stocky boy came out from his hiding place, just inside the door frame leading from the hall that marked the highly subjective divide between living room and dining room.
“How come you get to talk to the eggplant and we have to do our schoolwork? Sophie said no one’s supposed to talk to it.” Considering his presence now fully sanctioned, he stared openly at the Shil, bending over the crate.
“Robbie, watch your damn language! Go and get our guest some water.” Robbie winced at the reprimand, but did as Samantha asked and went to get a glass from the cupboard. “Use a plastic one!” Samantha called after him. Grumbling, he picked a scratched and faded old plastic mug from the back. It had once been bright orange, and on the side a design in black ink was still partially visible, with a date underneath it. Robbie remembered filling it with mud and sticks to make magic potions when he was little, and he didn’t think anyone in the house had used it for anything other than filling the dog’s water bowl. He didn’t bother to look if it was clean.
Moving to the pump, he put their big stoneware pitcher under the spigot and worked the handle. He thought he could get the water up faster than anyone in the family. There was a trick to it, taking one big pump at the beginning and then doing half pumps until the water came pouring out, then more big pumps until the pitcher was full. Never mind that Gabi had timed him and Hamza, who just used boring regular strokes. His way felt faster.
He carefully poured from the jug into the big orange mug, looking at the printing on the side. Once, he remembered dimly, it had been a rabbit in a funny costume, blowing a funny looking horn. Mommy had read them the story with a white rabbit who worked for a queen, he remembered. Now all that remained was part of the horn and the rabbit’s funny shirt with hearts all over it.
“Robbie. Robbie! ROBBIE!” Samantha finally roused him from his daydream, and he started towards her, the cup forgotten on the counter. “Robbie, the water?”
He turned around and stomped back to the counter, picked up the mug, and stomped back over to her. “You didn’t have to yell. I don’t like it when you yell at me.”
Samantha took the mug from him, biting back a response. She took a deep breath. “Go back to your books, and tell your brother and sister they best get back to it too, or you’ll all make up on Saturday.”
Robbie pouted, his eyes flashing with defiance. “It is Saturday!”
Samantha quickly tried to count the days since she’d last looked at a calendar. After a moment, she gave up. “Fine, then, go do something in any room except this one. But stay in the house until everyone is home, OK?”
“Can we go to the barn?”
Samantha considered. The power was out, so there wouldn’t be any way they could turn on any of the machines. She was pretty sure she’d discharged all the capacitors for the inverter and her other projects. “Sure, but so help me God, if I find one thing out of place on my workbench, I’ll throw all three of you down the well. Hamza!”
The tall, lanky boy came around the corner, eyes down. “You are in charge. No going into the woods today, understand? You can do what you want in the barn, but don’t touch the machines, and Hamza? Don’t. Touch. Anything. On my workbench.” She made sure he looked at her as she spoke the last words.
Gabriella came out last. All three of them stared at the alien once more, taking twice as long to put on their boots and coats as it normally would. Samantha finally stood in front of the crate, blocking their view. “Have fun, kids.”
Dal’vad’s eyes had fixed on the brightly colored cup as soon as it came into view. It was torture watching the curious child carry it to the dirty woman. It was so close, but out of reach. His tongue felt thick. He tried to work some saliva into his mouth, but got nothing. The dirty woman wasn’t paying him any attention now, first speaking to the curious child, then calling in the lanky child and the little one with the loud voice.
Eventually all the children left, and the dirty woman stood a long moment with her back to Dal’vad, watching the door. Dal’vad spoke again, his voice now a croak. “Water, please?”
The dirty woman straightened suddenly, as if she had forgotten he was there. Then she turned and considered him, the water, and the locked crate. Finally, she spoke to the big creature, and it stood on all for legs, fixed him with a murderous glare, and bared its teeth. Satisfied, the dirty woman put down her shotgun, then pointed behind Dal’vad. “Back.”
He didn’t know that word, but picked up the meaning easily enough. He moved until his back was pressed against the wire at the rear of the cage. Pressing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs, he once again tried to be as non-threatening as possible. The dirty woman took a metal key ring from where it hung at her waist, and undid the lock. Then she opened the door, put the mug just inside the cage, closed the door, and locked it. Dal’vad immediately went for the mug, and the big creature gave a single, loud, deep cry. It froze him so suddenly that the cage shook and the mug nearly spilled over.
The dirty woman called to the big creature and it immediately backed off. Dal’vad realized what the furry creature reminded him of, and he shivered. It was like the humans had brought their own Rakiri into their society as a client species. Dal’vad didn’t know of another race in the galaxy that had done such a thing on their own planet.
Moving more slowly now, he picked up the mug, eyeing the Rakiri kin as he did so. He drank, and nothing in his life to that point had ever tasted so good. He felt like he had hardly swallowed before the mug was empty, and he was still thirsty.
“Water please?”
The dirty woman inhaled deeply and exhaled, then disappeared around the corner. The Rakiri kin stayed in its place and watched him. She came back a moment later with a large, dark jug. She gestured to him, and he put his mug against the bars of the cage, and she poured more water into it. They repeated this twice more before he felt that he’d had enough.
This was all going better than he expected. The humans had treated his injuries, and while he was their prisoner and they definitely didn’t like him, they didn’t seem eager to kill him either. It was a long time since he’d felt real hope, and he didn’t feel it now. But the immediate fear of the humans and the Rakiri kin was receding, leaving the constant underlying dread of the future. Still, there was the smaller hope that things might improve for the present. “Food please?”
This time the dirty woman shook her head and said something, the only word Dal’vad understood being “no”. He tilted his head, then lay on his back. He was still very tired. He closed his eyes.
Dal’vad had no idea how long he had slept when he felt a new and very urgent need. He sat up, and saw the dirty woman fast asleep on the couch. The smaller Rakiri kin lay on top of her, the bigger was still in front of the crate, head on its paws, eyes closed.
“Hello? Hello!” The small Rakiri kin jumped off the woman and ran up to him making that awful cry over and over again. The dirty woman, startled, sat up, turned to face him, and said something to him in a groggy questioning tone. “Tatol? Turot?” Dal’vad shouted to be heard over the small monster while he struggled to remember the word. “Tilot? Toilet?”
submitted by stickmaster_flex to Sexyspacebabes [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 shanesdogbax I'm still waiting to see Fisk Wilson is back next episode...

I'm still waiting to see Fisk Wilson is back next episode... submitted by shanesdogbax to HAWKEYE [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 Mercenary100 Please help with scene editor

I get a crash randomly while editing that says something went wrong do you want to report it, and than closes my game saving nothing… anyone help?
submitted by Mercenary100 to Bannerlord [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 KoalasUnl1mted Feeders

So, I have an almost three year old (now that I know his birthday) who is on a hunger strike from being bred last month, and also apparently only ever ate asf. Which is incredibly hard to find. So does anyone know anywhere maybe online I could get f/t asf shipped to me? I'm in Missouri.
submitted by KoalasUnl1mted to ballpython [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 bendova_smith-2 [H] Dec Prime Gaming [W] Offers

Journey to the Savage Planet (GOG)
Frostpunk (GOG)
Need for Speed: Hot Pursuit Remastered (Origin)
submitted by bendova_smith-2 to SteamGameSwap [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 tryingtoplay777 Is there a point in applying to the NYC housing lottery if I don’t live in NYC?

I live outside the city limits with my parents but I commute into the city every day and have been applying to places that will cut my commute in half. I’ve heard that city residents get preference and the housing lottery is hard to win anyway so is it pointless for me to apply?
submitted by tryingtoplay777 to AskNYC [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 Budgiejen Went to petsmart for some toys, came home with a new birb. Couldn't pass up this albino beauty. Meet Pineapple! 😍

Went to petsmart for some toys, came home with a new birb. Couldn't pass up this albino beauty. Meet Pineapple! 😍 submitted by Budgiejen to birdsnamedfood [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 uglylilwitch What kinds of ingredients should be avoided and why?

I thought about getting the Baby Face primer when it was on sale for Cyber Monday. But reading a top review they said it had antifreeze in it.
As far as I know talc is bad, but it's in setting powders.
I want to get some new makeup and want to make sure I'm not putting harsh stuff on my face. I know there is like more natural stuff, but looking for cheap stuff
submitted by uglylilwitch to Makeup [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 Dartherizer59 Buying and trading for: Autos/gold cup rainbow needs of Walker buehler, Zac Veen, Willy adames, cade cavalli autos, Ian Anderson autos, Luis Robert

submitted by Dartherizer59 to baseballcards [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 damschend “News”

“News” submitted by damschend to notinteresting [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 Gregmiller20201 Nothing But Lowlife Creep & A Criminal

Nothing But Lowlife Creep & A Criminal submitted by Gregmiller20201 to FightingFakeNews [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 Neirtomyheart First time shaving my legs, that’s hard work. Feels great with my green tennis skirt.

First time shaving my legs, that’s hard work. Feels great with my green tennis skirt. submitted by Neirtomyheart to crossdressing [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 edwardeyre What do you think would be some great Bond inspired gifts?

Obviously everyone can’t afford an Omega, myself included. What are some (semi-affordable) Bond-esque gift ideas? Not necessarily from any adaptations, could just be inspired or similar.
submitted by edwardeyre to JamesBond [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 Svalaef A great disturbance in the Aether — as if a million future bunny boys suddenly cried out

A great disturbance in the Aether — as if a million future bunny boys suddenly cried out submitted by Svalaef to ffxiv [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 Ordinary-Ad6425 Dramatic reset

Do you guys ever just commit epic suicide when you’re bored of your character? Or is that just me.
submitted by Ordinary-Ad6425 to dayz [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 UrbanRelicHunter Found this oil painting dumpster diving tonight. Any ideas of age? And Is it worth looking into getting repaired or should I cut it up and use the canvas for other projects? Seems to be fairly old

submitted by UrbanRelicHunter to WhatIsThisPainting [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 anonymous46538 Help pleaseeeeee

Im 17 and have had no luck finding a guy. Im really into country boys (as a country girl myself, my parents would very much so approve of a country boy) but it seems like no one is interested in me. There was one guy i started talking to and it turned into exchanging nudes (im of legal age in my state and we are both the same age before anyone freaks out). Now it seems like he doesnt even want to talk to me. Ive expressed that i liked him early on but it just flies over his head as if he didnt hear it. Help! What would you guys do in this situation? Any guys who would like to tell me if this is normal or if hes just nervous to talk to me?
submitted by anonymous46538 to dating [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 Mrwoo219 Anyone have a porygon that they can trade?

Anyone able to give me a porygon? Havnt been able to get it to role in my trophy garden and I’m tired of waiting :( have bd and sp can trade exclusives
submitted by Mrwoo219 to pokemontrades [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 crosbowgoboom Thanks, I hate this picture so much

Thanks, I hate this picture so much submitted by crosbowgoboom to TIHI [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 NiIduenilun Everyone posting their wrapped and me watching like 👁👄👁 bc i use hacked spotify

submitted by NiIduenilun to 100gecs [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 ksbcrocks Hopefully this sign will help around my apartment building.

Hopefully this sign will help around my apartment building. submitted by ksbcrocks to BobsBurgers [link] [comments]


2021.12.01 23:44 pseunomix Akira Ishikawa & Count Buffalo - Sunset Okinawa [1976] (Japanese Smooth Jazz)

Akira Ishikawa & Count Buffalo - Sunset Okinawa [1976] (Japanese Smooth Jazz) submitted by pseunomix to silkysmoothmusic [link] [comments]


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