2021.09.16 19:53 codeine-tears carti fans after listening to narcissist
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2021.09.16 19:53 DariusGotNoBev_ add for streaks🤝
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2021.09.16 19:53 Subject_Bug_4194 Where can I get the best cheesecake?
2021.09.16 19:53 bel3alesblumndif What do you miss the most before all this chaos
For me it has to be when I was just starting uni I enjoyed it going and coming back to the gym then home thawra was just starting and we were at home because of road closures I finished my first semester and covid happened and we all know how things progressed …
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2021.09.16 19:53 Its_Plagued Daily Mod
2021.09.16 19:53 -en- @AP: RT @APEntertainment: Give @LilNasX extra credit — the "Industry Baby" star had two costume changes at the #MetGala https://t.co/5f3g6xR8BY
|submitted by -en- to newsbotbot [link] [comments]|
2021.09.16 19:53 JayStories1 [FN] Peace's Champion
The market was growing more crowded. People seemed to sprout up out of nowhere, nurtured by the morning sun. The road and paths filled with people going about their daily business. Natlyn didn't like it much.
It didn't help matters that most of them towered over her by more than a foot. Blocking her view and hiding her destination. Grumbling softly, she pushed her way through the crowd. She had thought she left early enough to avoid this.
Elves and humans both looked down in shock at the woman passing them. They moved out of her way of course, one look at the pendant on her neck made sure of that. A few halflings trailed after her using the wake she made through the crowd. She was lucky enough that she didn't get run over in this drove.
She stood straight, coming to her full four and a half feet. Tall for her ilk but short compared to most that made their homes here. Her long white hair fell to her waist in it's tight braid. Her dress was freshly laundered and neat. A basket looped under her arm, held tightly, completed her ensemble. Hoyt would have said she looked handsome today.
The normally stony features of her face softened at the thought of the old trapper. She suppressed a smile. Only he had ever been able to make her feel so happy. She pushed such thoughts from her mind; they were private, and she had chores. She was perhaps a touch gentler as she moved through the herd of people. Her taps on people's arms gentler, and her 'excuse me's' a bit politer.
Hawkers and farmers yelled over each other as people walked by. She examined the produce, ignoring what any stall owner said about freshness. Instead she inspected anything she wished to buy closely, judging the grade for herself. Some had good potatoes, others onions, whenever she came across something that met her approval she bought it. Garlic and herbs where harder to find, but she needed them. So she suffered the crowd until she did. The cupboards of her house had become bare. How they went through so much food with half their group gone she didn't know.
Come to think of it, they should have been back by now. Those two had been gone nearly two months, that was all of the planned down time. Soon their coin would run out and she wouldn't be able to buy food. Rawlins and Oskar had better hurry.
Not that she looked forward to going back on the road. The little house she had rented was growing on her. It was outside the walls in the farmland. The breeze blew through her windows and she could see the stars. It might smell like the ocean out there and not trees, but that was well enough. As long as it didn't smell like caves. That brought back too many memories she didn't want.
The crowd grew thicker. Her shopping wasn't done, but the noise had become suffocating. She wanted out. The basket was only partially filled; she left anyway. There was enough there for a few meals. She could go home and cook lunch. Scales would like that, he was absolutely manic about food.
After a few bumps and a little jostling she broke free of the crowd. The fresh air hit her face and she pulled in a few deep breaths. Those tall folk didn't know how unpleasant being crushed in by them was. More than a few of them needed to bathe more regularly.
Happy to be out of that particular miasma, she walked down the street towards home. There were a few people moving through the streets, but nothing like the market. A few people heading to go shopping, a couple out for a walk, and a small group of guards passed her.
Other than noting them she was on her way. The business of others was none of her concern. Poking your nose into other people's lives was a good way to get into trouble. Life had taught her that lesson quite harshly.
A touch on her shoulder broke her out of her thoughts. She turned to see the guards she had just passed. They were three of them standing there, all fresh-faced and young. Handsome for humans she guessed; still looked like baby's to her. No beard, soft features, too lanky, a man needed a hardness to him. They were at least dressed smartly. Dark red uniforms were worn clean and tidy over their chain mail. They held the spears in their hands as if they knew how to use them.
"Yes," she asked curtly.
"Excuse me Ma'am," one began. "Would you happen to be a Godsworn?"
It was then she noticed all three were looking at the pendant on the end of her necklace.
"I know it's divine," she smirked. "But it's rude to stare at a lady's bosom, is it not?"
All three turned crimson. One went so far as to stare straight up at the sky. Her smirk widened.
"Your pardon Ma'am," the one who had spoken squeaked out. "we were not starting."
"Very well," she struggled to keep her tone serious. "I am Godsworn"
The looks that had been curious, then contrite, now turned to awe. She thought about making another quip, but decided not to toy with the guards too much.
"I am still wondering what you would like from me," she admonished.
"Oh yes, you need to come with us."
"Have I broken the law?"
"Then I don't need to do anything," she turned around and resumed walking.
"Ma'am!" he rushed forward and got in front of her.
"You really do want to stare at me," Natlyn accused.
"Please, I'm sorry. What I meant to say was, would you please come with us. We could use your help."
"That is more polite, but I am still wondering why it's my business."
"Don't you want to be of assistance to your city?" a voice came from behind her.
She snorted. Waving her hand she highlighted the difference between herself and the humans around her.
"Do I look like this is my city?"
"Ma'am please," the first one spoke up again, his tone as civil as possible. "We are asking for your assistance in a matter of some delicacy. Please."
"Fine," she sighed. "I can't stand it when men beg. Let's go."
"Thank you Ma'am," he smiled before noticing her basket. "If you wish to drop off your goods first I can escort you home."
"Now you want me to go home? Make up your mind boy."
His smile turned pained. With a wave of his hand for her to follow he set off without another word.
So much for not teasing the guards, she thought.
They made their way through the city. One at the head, her in the middle, and the other two flanking. Any person they encountered immediately got out of the way. That she didn't mind. She had always thought those who used an escort to be pompous, but it was kind of nice.
As they walked she looked at the city around here. Stone buildings, some wood, rose up from the ground. There was soot from torches covering the walls. The road pavers were dirty from activity. It looked like a well used city. Until the past through a guarded gate. Beyond was something much different. The streets were swept and the walls washed. There were no blackened stones here. In fact there was no sign any of these buildings were used, save for the few well dressed people moving in and out of them.
The difference grated on her, and she didn't really know why. She took no issue with people having money, or spending it how they saw fit. This, however, seemed silly. Spending coins to get rid of dirt that would be there again in an hour. She had lived half her life underground. It wasn't dirt that hurt people, it was those that tried to rule it.
That was long past she reminded herself. It was not her problem anymore. They were welcome to their dank caves and dirty mine shafts. She had learned to enjoy the wind and water, the sun and stars. Hoyt had shown her their beauty.
She had been thinking of the old human a lot today. That was odd. She didn't know what brought about this wave of nostalgia. Too much time alone perhaps. Well she wasn't exactly alone, but Scales barely counted as company. He certainly didn't talk much.
So lost in her own thoughts, she was surprised when she bumped into the back of the guard when he stopped. He turned and looked down, concern on his face.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she grumbled. "I am not fragile."
"Yes Ma'am. We're here."
She stepped to one side so she could see around him. Before her was a large, square stone building. It loomed three stories, or so she guessed by the arrow slits lining the exterior. The top was lined with merlons, looking like teeth jutting up to the sky. Steep steps lead up to the main door.
"You brought me to the castle?" she questioned, she had never seen it.
"No Ma'am," he hesitated. "This is the main garrison."
"The garrison?" she asked incredulously. "How many soldiers can you fit in there?"
"Roughly a thousand Ma'am."
She shook her head. That was quite the army.
"Why am I here then?"
"Follow me," he turned to his companions. "You two go about your rounds. I will rejoin you shortly."
He spun on his heels and started up the steps. She went to follow. The stairs were a challenge. They were tall even for a human, they were downright agony on her. She took each one as quickly as she was able, but began to fall behind. Her face turned red, from exertion she told herself, as she struggled to keep up. She was about two thirds of the way up when he reached the door.
"If you will step inside Ma'..." he cut off when he realized she was not next to him. He looked down and noticed her struggling. He started back down, his arm raised.
"Stop!" she cried. He halted. "I am fine, I don't need your help."
He stood for a moment, indecision coloring his face. She couldn't take the idea of someone helping her up some stairs. This must have been plain because he stepped back up and stood still. His eyes looked anywhere but down at her.
She didn't know if she was offended or not by his behavior. So she chose to ignore the situation, while slowly making her way up the oversized steps. They were well designed, she admired, to make it hard to climb. An army would have a tough time going up them under fire from arrows. Still, she cursed them.
Eventually she reached the op. She did her best to cover her quickened breath. She had taken too much time off.
I've climbed mountains in full plate before, she thought to herself, maybe my little house is making me soft.
He continued to study the sky as she caught her breath.
"If you would please follow me," he said after a moment. He gave a heave and pushed the door open.
She checked the door as she walked in, it was thick wood. This place was definitely a fortress. The walls were the same gray stone as the outside. It was well lit and functional. There were no paints or gilt here. It was clear from both outside and in what this place was for. She hated it, it smelt of stone and old air.
He guided them through the labyrinth of halls. Corridors narrowing to the point where the walls almost touched his shoulders. There were more of those accursed stairs. Most would become dizzy with all the guile that went into this place. He led them through with practice ease though. Soon enough, after short breaks for the stairs, they arrived at a door.
It looked no different from any other to her eyes, but her escort suddenly seemed tense. He squared his shoulders and straightened out his already orderly uniform. A deep breath later, and he knocked.
"Come in," came a voice. It was mail and easily heard through the door. It was calm and confident.
The guard pushed the door open and ushered her in.
The room beyond was sparse. A desk and two chairs occupied the center of the room. There was a small table against one wall with various sundries on it. A weapon and armor rack, which held a sword and full plate, sat against the back wall. There was another door in a corner of the room. A fireplace, cold, completed the rather spartan room.
What drew attention was the man behind the desk. His skin was the color of coal. His head was shaved bald. A close cropped beard, peppered with gray, adorned his jaw. His eyes were hard as they took in his guests.
"Clearwater, what is it?" It was a question, but only just. There was an unspoken command in his tone; 'Tell me what you want, and do it quickly.'
"Sir," the man, Clearwater, clapped a hand to his chest. "You mentioned there was an issue with Godsworn in the city. I took the liberty of finding one, and bringing her here of course."
The dark skinned man stood up from his desk. He loomed over it, pressing his fists down onto the wooden top. He examined the woman now in his office. His gaze then turned back to Clearwater. If anything his eyes were harder now.
"You took the liberty of finding one?" his tone flat.
"Yes....Sir," Clearwater stammered out.
When she glanced up at his face, he had gone white. His eyes were shifting side to side, glancing towards the door they had come through.
"I see, dismissed Soldier," he said in the same tone. He then turned to her. "You stay, please."
He had spoken to her more kindly than him. He gave a shake salute and exited. She waited for the door to close before she spoke.
"Do you always chastise your men for taking the initiative Captain?"
His eyebrows shifted up slightly, which was the only sign of surprise he gave.
"Your notion about me being the captain is fair, but what makes you assume I am upset with my subordinate?"
"More his reaction than yours. If you can put that level of fear into your men with so few words, well either you are a hero or a tyrant."
He gave no comment on which it was. Instead he stepped out from around his desk. She was surprised to find he was not much taller than her, maybe a foot or so. Short for a human.
"I am Isaac Zaltrick," he said once he stood in front of her. "As you guessed I am Captain of the guard here. I would also like to apologize for any trouble being brought here might have caused."
"Apology accepted," she crossed her arms. "But why am I here?"
"As you heard there are some problems with the Godsword. While officially it was wrong of Osin to pull you off the street and involve you in this matter, your presence here provides for a unique opportunity. One I am loath to pass up."
"What might these problems be?"
"Before I go on, may I ask for proof?"
"Proof of what?"
"Proof that you are in fact a Godsworn."
"Are you blind man? My symbol is right here," she uncrossed her arms and topped the necklace with a calloused finger.
He didn't even glance down.
"I'm afraid that isn't enough anymore. We have had some, well, fakes."
"Fakes?" her eyes went wide and her jaw slackened.
"Yes. Now can you prove your status?"
"How am I supposed to do that? The symbol has always been enough."
"Am I correct in saying that all Godsworn possess some healing ability?"
"Well yes, healing the body is a gift from the gods. Paladin or Cleric, all godsworn have that gift."
"Then you just need to heal someone."
"I don't see any injured peop..." she cut off as he pulled a dagger. Her feet shifted slightly, widening her stance. She dropped the basket and brought her hands up.
"Good reflexes," he gave a half smile. "but this is for me."
He rolled up the sleeve of his uniform. There was no chain mail, just dark skin. Clenching his fist caused the muscles of his forearm to ripple. He drew the blade across it. In one quick motion a shallow cut appeared. A line of bright red stood about against his flesh. He hadn't even flinched when he had done it.
"Now we have an injured person," the half smile was still on his face as he held out his arm.
"Men," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
He said nothing as she looked over the wound. Her hand gently touched his arm; her other gripped the symbol hanging from her neck. She began to pray. The words always just came to her, appearing on her lips. It was impossible to recall what she said after, and people always claimed to not understand what she had said. Whatever she said it never took long. She finished her prayer and removed her hand.
He brought his arm up to his face, inspecting it.
"There isn't even a scar," if he was awed, he didn't show it.
"If you want a scar I can borrow that knife of yours," she offered.
That got a full smile.
"I am satisfied," his sleeve went back down.
"Good, now can you please tell me what is going on? False Godsworn?"
"Follow me. We will walk and talk," he headed for the door.
She snatched up her basket. She was growing tired of following people around, but she was interested enough to put the displeasure aside. False Godsworn, nobody faked that. So she followed.
"I can assume you know what befalls most who fake being in the service of a god?" Isaac asked as they walked.
"Bad luck, misfortune, general suffering. I hear it gets worse the longer you fake it."
"Correct. It's not just that though, intent seems to matter too."
"How on earth do you know that?"
"You don't know? Interesting," they paused the conversation as they reached stairs. He offered no assistance and she asked for none. He resumed talking at the bottom. "A scholar of some sort compiled stories of people who had at one point faked being Godsworn."
"No. It seems that if you lie for profit, you are punished quite harshly. If you don't it's not so bad. One story was from an old man who, at one time, cast a symbol in order to scare off bandits. It worked and he suffered no ill effects. He still has the pendant apparently, but never wore it again."
"How do you know all this?" She was growing more curious.
The scholar wrote a book on it. He even did tests. Seems wood or stone symbols don't matter, only metal," they went down another flight of stairs. "He wore them himself, only had trouble with metal pendants."
"He is a fool," she snorted.
"Perhaps, but it has helped general understanding of the phenomenon. They tend to be tight lipped. You wouldn't happen to want to share your story? Of how you got your symbol?"
An image flashed in her mind. He symbol, the same one she wore, laying on the last stone she ever carved. The stone lay at the head of mounded earth. She wished for the man under the dirt to be at peace, and prayed she could find it herself.
"No," she said, coming back to the present.
"I thought not. We are then left to other methods. The point is most people know better then to imitate being Godsworn. Which is where the trouble begins."
"A rash of people wearing fake pendants?"
"No more than usual, most suffer for it," More stairs, they were going underground, she realized. "Some, not so much."
She turned her head slowly up to look at him unbelieving.
"My thoughts exactly," he responded, not even looking at her.
They came to a heavy iron door. Isaac knocked twice. A small window on the door slid open. Eyes peered through, checking who was there. The window slid closed with a soft clunk, a loud clunk followed and the door started to swing open. The squeaky hinges echoed down the stone corridor.
"Captain," one of the two guards on the other side of the door saluted.
"Open the inner door."
"Yes Sir. She will have to leave her basket."
Isaac looked at her, waiting. She sighed and set the basket on one of the tables in the small chamber.
"Don't eat my food," she warned.
He snorted before waving to the guards to do their jobs. One rushed over with a key and unlocked the inner door. It looked just as heavy as he pulled it open. The pair walked through and the door was locked behind them.
"Jail," Natlyn grumbled. The smell of stale air set her on edge.
"You are safe," he consoled. Picking up on her apprehension.
"Thank you," she tried to mimic his flat tone from earlier.
With a shrug he set off.
It was darker here, only a few lamps lighting the hall. Barred cells lined the wall to her right. She could easily make them out. Darkness never bothered her kind. Some of the cells had people moving in them, some not. Nobody spoke, the prison was quiet as a tomb.
"Isaac..." a man sang out in the darkness, shattering the silence.
The Captain froze. She took a few steps past before stopping and looking at him. His hackles were up.
"I see you visit him often."
"No," for the first time his voice shook. "I don't."
"Then how does he..." she turned, looking down the passageway, into the void.
He continued on moving ahead of her. She couldn't see his expression from behind. Eventually, they came to the back wall, and the final cell.
"Hello Becker," he greeted. Turning towards the cell, his tone was level again.
"Isaac! Thank you for coming to my humble abode." The voice from the cell was slightly hoarse. The tone, seemingly friendly, chilled the air around it.
"How did you know I was coming?"
She had settled in next to him. Her eyes focused past the bars and into the cell. It was about what you would expect. Stone floor and a cot; there was a bucket in one corner, she didn't want to know what for. There was a man in the cell lounging on the bed. He didn't bother raising his head for his guests.
"Oh just a feeling," the false warmth set her teeth on edge. "When are you going to let me out?"
"After your trial."
"Oh come now Isaac," He spun up into bed, his head hanging down. Long hair obscured his features. "We both know I am innocent."
"You were found two streets away covered in blood."
"I told you. I had just come from the butchers. I slipped in his back room! He should really mop more. I could have been injured; you should have arrested him."
"Bah, you are..."
"Who is your friend?" he cut the other man off. He turned his head slightly.
Her muscles tensed, and all the hairs on her arms and neck stood up. She could feel his eyes on her.
"A witness." Isaac lied.
Quick as a flash he was standing. He dashed towards the bars. His hands slapped against the steel cylinders. The sound echoing off the stone. Isaac had his dagger in his hand. It took every ounce of willpower Natlyn had not to flinch away.
"A witness," he hissed.
His eyes had sunken into his head, his cheeks were gaunt and hollow. A beak of a nose sat over thin lips, and under light eyes. Everything about this man was white. He looked like a ghost. Either he had been down here too long, or never went outside in the first place. A sickly smile crawled across his face.
"Such a pretty girl too," His eyes caressed the lines of her face before they smeared their way down. "It's such a shame..."
He stopped, his eyes on her breasts, or more likely the symbol that sat over them. All emotion left him. His eyes snapped back up to her face. Without another word he spun and was back on his bed.
"Curious," Isaac muttered.
"Do we need to stay here any longer?" she asked quietly.
"Nothing more to say Becker?"
"Then I don't think so."
They turned and made their way back to the antechamber.
"He never shut up the one other time I visited him, and my men say he talks incessantly through any interrogation. Curious indeed."
"That was an interesting experience," Natlyn leaned against the wall. "Still confused about what this has to do with me and Godsworn."
"His property," he asked the guards, who produced a small bag.
Isaac dug through it and pulled out a chain.
"Here," he dropped it into her hands.
Whatever it was the moment it landed on her palm, her skin began to crawl. It was small and metallic. She walked over to a lamp, holding it under the light, to examine it. It appeared to be a disk made of silver, but it was tarnished so heavily that it was difficult to be sure. The disk had a relief carving of a skull. Eyes wide and mouth open it appeared to scream. Inside the mouth of the skull was a small tear drop shaped ruby.
It looked like a Godsworn symbol.
She lifted her own up next to it. Hers was bright silver. A waterfall crashed down into a still pond; flowers sprouting up along the edge of the water.
"I see you have noticed the similarities."
"It has to be fake. Mine has never tarnished in almost a hundred years."
"That lines up with the scholars then. It seems Godsworn symbols never need cleaning or polishing. They always appear to be silver or gold and are nigh unbreakable."
"Well give me your dagger."
With a tilt of the head he handed it over.
She places the symbol on the table. The tip of the knife went into the eye socket. It looked even more like the skull was wailing at her now. She pushed down. Harder and harder she pushed, the knife didn't even move. She pulled away, not even a scratch. Lifting the handle up she brought the pummel of the weapon down onto the pendant; not even a dent. The skull seemed to be laughing now.
"Same for me," Isaac said from over her shoulder.
"You could have told me you already tried," she snapped.
"Don't get upset with me," his half smile appeared again. "You are Godsworn, thought it might do something different for you."
She took a deep breath, he was right. It was a good idea to have her try.
"Sorry," she mumbled.
"Nothing to apologize for. You see now why this involved you though, yes?"
"Yes, this is odd. It makes my skin crawl, literally."
"It's not just that," he reached over her and picked the symbol up from the table. "He was found a few blocks from a murder, covered in blood, as I said. However, he was found right next to the butchers. Also the back room of the butchery was covered in spilled pigs blood. It's possible he slipped and left."
Everything pointed to this man genuinely having the blessing of a god. It was generally understood that Godsworn helped people. Some became great healers, others legendary adventurers, but murderers? No, not one had worn that title so far as she could remember.
"I need to think about this," Natlyn said finally.
"I agree, if you think of anything come back and let me know."
"I will summon a guard to lead you out."
"No need, I remember the way."
"I'm a dwarf," she cut him off. "I'm used to going through twisting caves. This is nothing."
He paused, then relented.
"Very well. Thank you for your assistance...I never got your name." he questioned.
"No you didn't." she quipped as she picked up her basket.
That last thing she saw was that half smile as she was let out.
She hoped she remembered the way. It had been many years since she had to navigate those caves. If she got lost she might be here a while. She would not go find a guard and beg for help.
Luckily the skill seemed to be intact, and she found her way to the open air. She stopped outside and pulled in a few deep breaths. It was good to taste fresh air again.
Her mind was whirling the whole way back. Eyes down focused on her path. The man, Becker, Isaac had called him had to be a fake. That symbol though, and good fortune, no fake would have that.
Out the inner gate and then through the out wall, she emerged into farmland. Fields pressed right up against the outer walls. Her eyes were pulled to the view of the river snaking its way up from the south. Spilling into the ocean to the north. Grain waved in the soft breeze. She let herself enjoy the sight before she walked the rest of the way home.
Among a small group of cottages sat hers. Most who stayed here owned some of the farmland around the city. She had rented this place for a break from life on the road. Adventuring was hard, more so when you didn't really want to do it.
She entered her home. It was dim inside, her mind back on the problem at hand.
"I'm home," she called.
"Welcome home," A voice hissed from her left.
She spun just in time to see a massive tooth filled maw open into a wicked grin.
The basket fell to the ground.
submitted by JayStories1 to shortstories [link] [comments]
2021.09.16 19:53 HuntertheNarwhal How would someone go about getting all anti-totalism subs to join together and help ourselves grow bigger?
Hello, I'm currently not sober, if I was I wouldn't bother with this shit.
To me at least there seems to be a lack of any kind of relationship with sister subs that are against the totalism of the left as far as I know. This bothers me, we are very few and far between. Reddit doesn't like Freedom of speech and doesn't like minorities thinking for themselves. You obviously do. Do you know how many times I've been called a faggot or queer by a right-wing person on Reddit? Fucking Nill. Do you know how many times a leftist called me or said homophobic shit to me on Reddit? Maybe like 2 or 3 times. Now at least I stay out of any Hateful communities so I'm not called a fag by them for simply disagreeing. My own anecdotal examples obviously mean shit, but I have yet to see you fuckers call anyone a Koon, Uncle Tom, Race Traitor, or Fag. You also don't ban people who commit wrong think which I appreciate.
I'm getting off-topic this should obviously be the bare minimum of respect given to any individual.
The point of this post is I want our subs to stick together. If 6 people can get a whole subreddit banned just because they mod the top 100 subs maybe we can at the very least slow down the totalitarian left from banning minorities and other groups of people that disagree with them on this awful site.
submitted by HuntertheNarwhal to DeclineIntoCensorship [link] [comments]
2021.09.16 19:53 Vov_san128 Bow down and thank god,Young master silver shield has returned [Trash of the counts family]
2021.09.16 19:53 AundaRag Someone come in Groton, CT get your wife…
2021.09.16 19:53 -en- @AP: Police say a man is dead after he was beaten with a trash can lid and pummeled during a brawl outside a Philadelphia cheesesteak restaurant. https://t.co/jHbY7gCBsK
|submitted by -en- to newsbotbot [link] [comments]|
2021.09.16 19:53 Unremovable_Cortana Got the fastest call for an interview I've ever had
|submitted by Unremovable_Cortana to publix [link] [comments]|
2021.09.16 19:53 looby_gub Momoko?
|submitted by looby_gub to ChurchOfTsuruno [link] [comments]|
2021.09.16 19:53 Fonzo914 Tori and Amanda part 2
2021.09.16 19:53 MoreLikeGaewyn Why does the water boil from killing the adds?
2021.09.16 19:53 -en- @AP: Mayim Bialik and Ken Jennings will split “Jeopardy!” hosting duties for the remainder of 2021, Sony Pictures Television says. Mike Richards was initially tapped as Alex Trebek’s successor, but left after past misogynistic and disparaging comments surfaced. https://t.co/USud3AME2V
|submitted by -en- to newsbotbot [link] [comments]|
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XRP Rewards with each transaction
Every buy or sell transaction is taxed with a 10% fee, 7% of which is converted to xrp tokens and distributed amongst all holders. The remaining 2% is sent to the liquidity pool to ensure enough liquidity and for Buybac! 1% the marketing's to guarantee continuous and large-scale marketing efforts, prizes for the community, and donations to our chosen charities for the month.
MegaCake prides itself for being at the forefront of the shitcoin industry. Why? Our reward tokenomics are unlike any others. We do not offer rewards in unstable and bearish BTC or BNB, nor we do promise the stable and boring BUSD.
Every 60 minutes, we reward our holders with XRP Tokens!
✅ Contract: 0x8bc72e1b19e88836dc156107740a9c36a07a3992
🦎 Applied Coingecko
📊 Applied CMC
❎ Applied Coinhunt
💥 Massive marketing plans
🔐Liquidity locked : https://deeplock.io/lock/0xebe74f3dd1ed8752ab614cd52a7269feecf3700c
Buy Here: https://pancakeswap.finance/swap?outputCurrency=0x8bc72e1b19e88836dc156107740a9c36a07a3992
Renounced Ownership: https://bscscan.com/token/0x8bc72e1b19e88836dc156107740a9c36a07a3992#readContract
submitted by Ok_River_9125 to AllCryptoBets [link] [comments]
2021.09.16 19:53 Yusuf2344 I mean…
|submitted by Yusuf2344 to meme [link] [comments]|
2021.09.16 19:53 Professional-Sign773 Uh yay?
Srry for bad writing xD
submitted by Professional-Sign773 to BloonsTDBattles [link] [comments]
2021.09.16 19:53 MedS03 Diffuse endocrine system. My textbook says that most endocrine glands are multicellular but there are individual hormone-producing cells scatted in the digestive track lining or mucosa and in the brain called diffuse endocrine system. Are these cells an example of endocrine unicellular glands? TIA!
2021.09.16 19:53 scapedrag7 Advice Choosing Between 2 Offers- Deloitte and PwC
Hello, I received an offer from Deloitte for the tech analyst position in RFA. I also received an offer from PwC for their tech associate consulting position (5k higher salary + higher bonus). Both job descriptions are really similar, however PWC has a higher percentage of travel (80% compared to 50%). I don't mind traveling but I would not want to travel every week. I know that this decision is up to me; but if anyone can offer me advice, I would greatly appreciate it. I was looking online and it seems like consulting is more hours and travel, but due to the pandemic I think that's calming down a bit. Thanks!
submitted by scapedrag7 to jobs [link] [comments]
2021.09.16 19:53 LawyerFlashy1033 When should I take collagen peptides?
Without getting into preferences about the effects of peptides I would like to know when you take yours and why that time.
Before or after workouts? With protein powder or without? Morning noon or night?
Thanks for taking the time to answer.
submitted by LawyerFlashy1033 to Supplements [link] [comments]
2021.09.16 19:53 whiskeyding "We Have a Strong 'Coaching Culture'"
"We have FAR too many managers, and almost none of them provide real value to the organization. They are aware of this, if only subconsciously, and seek to waste the time of the rank-and-file in order to prop up their illusions of competence and fragile sense of self-actualization."
Hope this helps.
submitted by whiskeyding to antiwork [link] [comments]
2021.09.16 19:53 donnypyro Stunt Wires
I plan to direct a short film I've written and it requires wirework for a fight scene. Who here has experience with wirework? I have a few questions: How do stunt wires function? Are they rentable and how much do they cost? Who would I need on my crew to set up and use the stunt wires?
submitted by donnypyro to Filmmakers [link] [comments]
2021.09.16 19:53 likethesubject Wife’s phone doesn’t lock the car when she walks away but mine does
So we just picked our MYP up yesterday (you’ve probably seen my posts) and my phones locks the car when I walk away just fine but my wife’s phone does not. She has her app all setup and the car is set to auto lock. Any ideas?
submitted by likethesubject to TeslaModelY [link] [comments]