Poate pare la mintea cocosului, dar eu mi-am luat teapa si poate careva de pe-aici nu-si va mai lua. Acum un an jumate, ma pune pe mine naiba sa las bunatate de freelancing pe care il facusem in ultimii cativa ani si sa aplic la un job intr-o corporatie. Jobul era in aria mea profesionala (in care am doctorat si experienta), dar pe o nisa pe care nu mai lucrasem. Dau interviu cu HR-ul, imi trimite un ditamai testul, la care scriu o gramada, il trec cu brio, am interviu de 1 ora jumatate (cel mai lung din viata mea) cu managera, care ma invarte pe toate partile si-mi da toate scenariile ipotetice. Il trec si p-asta, asa ca ma suna HR-ul cu oferta. La telefon, scoate surpriza: pozitia e de Junior. Era prima data cand se mentiona acest lucru, in anunt nu aparea nimic si nici la interviuri n-au spus, ceea ce ar fi trebuit sa fie un mare steag rosu pentru mine. Evident, am ramas putin blocata cand mi-a zis asta si am ezitat, pentru ca nu eram junior, le-am zis ca o sa ma mai gandesc. Atunci, tipa de la HR m-a asigurat ca e asa doar pentru ca n-au putut scoate postul altfel, si ca e doar temporar, ca nu mai lucrasem fix in nisa asta, dar cu pregatirea si experienta mea, daca totul merge ok, in 6 luni - maxim 1 an sigur promovez. Mi-a trimis pe mail oferta, dar nu mi-a dat prin cap sa-i cer si mentiunea asta - posibilitate de promovare dupa 6 luni- 1 an - in scris.
Am inceput munca, toate bune si frumoase, feedback pozitiv, dupa 4 luni sunt facuta owner de proiect pe cel mai important proiect din departament. Incep sa ma astept la promovare, dar aflu ca promovarile si maririle se dau doar dupa un an in companie si doar in luna aprilie. Asta ar fi insemnat ca abia dupa un an si jumatate de la angajare m-as fi putut astepta sa-mi schimbe pozitia. Ok, zic, am intrat in hora, hai sa joc.
Am asteptat pana in aprilie, a venit evaluarea - totul foarte bine: mi-am indeplinit toate obiectivele, m-am adaptat de minune, am tinut bine proiectul si am devenit punct de contact pentru colaboratori din mai multe tari. Cand intreb de promovare, mi se spune s-o tin tot asa, ca la anul probabil ca o s-o primesc. Nu mi-a venit sa cred si i-am zis managerei ce-mi promisese HR-ul (tipa de la HR plecase, intre timp, din firma). Mi-a raspuns ca au ascuns ca e pozitie de junior "ca sa nu se sperie oamenii intermediate si senior si sa nu mai aplice" si ca nu trebuia sa-mi promita HR-ul asta. Dar ca m-a propus pentru marire de salariu.
Pentru marire, a urmat la putin timp o discutie cu directoarea de productie, in care mi-a spus ca a auzit numai de bine de mine, ca toata lumea ma lauda si ca-i pare rau ca nu-mi poate oferi decat o marire de 3% (la salariu sub o mie de euro).
Inutil de spus, am mai stat cat sa-mi aranjez treburile, am bagat demisia si acum astept cu interes exit interview-ul cu HR-ul. Dar am invatat o lectie buna: poate se dea HR-ul de ceasul mortii si sa promita si luna de pe cer - daca nu e in scris, nu exista.

Walkthrough: https://youtu.be/2JtBGEQOuaY
I made this video to show what the UPN Garden apartments look like. When I transferred, I didn’t get to see any images or videos on how UPN looked, so I hope this video helps incoming students who get placed here. Also sorry for the mess, this was taken post-graduation and right before move-out, so a little craziness was expected.
This is building 240 on Buckingham Way, Garden units. I was placed in a 3 bed, 1 bath unit with 4 other women, so 5 roommates in total! A little hectic at times, but we managed.
Things to note:

1. Only 2-pronged outlets! 3-pronged appliances will NOT fit. Please look into getting adapters, Amazon has a bunch: https://www.amazon.com/Converter-Polarized-JACKYLED-Appliances-Industrial/dp/B085QBFBKB/ref=sr_1_2_sspa?crid=1NSEV44HCCT66&keywords=3+pronged+2+pronged+adapter&qid=1685570103&sprefix=3+pronged+2+pronged+a%2Caps%2C941&sr=8-2-spons&psc=1&spLa=ZW5jcnlwdGVkUXVhbGlmaWVyPUEzME5KWEFDUVM5ME9MJmVuY3J5cHRlZElkPUEwMjU0MTk5M0RTR05HM1FQRk5VWSZlbmNyeXB0ZWRBZElkPUEwMzc3OTMzMUdRWTBUMkFTNVE0OCZ3aWRnZXROYW1lPXNwX2F0ZiZhY3Rpb249Y2xpY2tSZWRpcmVjdCZkb05vdExvZ0NsaWNrPXRydWU=
2. Kitchen countertops easily stain and damage.
3. The bathroom ceiling bubbles up from leakage from the upper floors. This is common for UPN units altogether.
4. There are heaters in every room! To turn them off, pull the string and let it fall back into the heater. This shuts a flap so that hot air doesn’t get released. However, it still gets hot even if you do close it. I put a durable bag in front of the heater to try and cover the vent, but it still remains warm. There is no real way to stop the heat.
5. Consider privacy film for windows, people are nosy. We were on the bottom floor, so we had a lot of foot traffic and nosy people. Amazon has some options: https://www.amazon.com/Daytime-Privacy-Non-Adhesive-Decorative-Control/dp/B07FBZ7NML/ref=sr_1_6?crid=NWGHI8DRR3CT&keywords=window+tinted+film+for+home&qid=1685570419&sprefix=window+tinted+film+for+home%2Caps%2C310&sr=8-6
6. We had an ant problem when we first move in. I highly suggest getting ant spray or ant traps. The ant problem went away after 2 months into the fall semester
7. Close windows when it’s super windy outside. SFSU Housing will also suggest you close them so that the windows don’t snap off and get damaged.
8. The bathrooms are forever stained. The roommates and I are very clean people, so we would clean the bathroom every weekend, but it still looked dirty even though it was cleaned. The linoleum had dark spots that could not be cleaned by mopping or any product we used. We just tried to keep up with the cleaning schedule and cover it up with some big bathroom rugs to make it look presentable.

The UPN Gardens are not the worst, but the overall term to describe them would be “Janky.”
We never really had any big safety concerns either. We had some instances of homeless people sleeping on top of the carports and a really drunk student who passed out on the lobby floor, but nothing dangerous. Even if there was a problem, campus security was fast acting and could get to UPN quickly. We had one car stolen (from what I’ve heard) during the 2 semesters I was living at UPN. It was not one of my roommates, but one of the other residents in our building. They busted her driver's window out and stole it that way.
Transportation around UPN was wonderful! We had the 57 that went through the UPN area as well as the 29. M was only a 10-minute walk away. It was easy to take a bus or train to where ever you needed to go.
Feel free to add/share anything else I missed!

I posted here about a month ago because I was having difficulty doing my school project. It's a long story so I'm gonna skip some details, I'll reply with more details if you guys ask.
Some context about our course: This is a program for mid-career switch folks, so many people entered with no background since it was mentioned we will be trained from scratch. I did prep myself a little, 1 month before the course started and while it helped, it clearly wasn't enough. We were supposed to learn Java in the first month, Spring Boot in the second, Databases (MySQL + MongoDB) in the third and Angular (which means we needed to also learn JS/HTML/CSS at the same time) in our final month/module.
Naturally those who had background were able to keep up with the course and those without struggled hard and failure rate was high. The thing is in the past, students who were weaker and couldn't cope were still able proceed to the attachment in the companies and carry on with their training but this year something was different.
So some of us received an email from the program organizer saying our hosting company would like to conduct a technical interview because we didn't do too well in our course. Basically because we failed 2 out of 4 modules during our 4 months of school. Of course we went for the technical interview and as soon as they asked me the first question and after trying to give them answers, I realized the interview was simply bs and set up to remove us. Some of them were even asked to live code lol.
Additional context: Our class consists of students/trainees from different companies and only the company we were attached to told the organizer to send us for that interview, which none of us passed apparently. There were trainees attached to other companies doing worse than us (they failed 3 modules out of 4) but was still allowed to continue so it was very unfair but they still had valid reasons to kick us out despite not being communicated with.
Context about our hosting company: Recent news they were not doing too hot even though they are considered a big and reliable company in our country. They had a 'safe' reputation. They probably over-hired and trying to cut down on manpower and costs too, they had some issues and had to pay huge fines as well.
Anyway I'll stop the rant here and what I want to ask is, what should I focus and do now that I have plenty of time? Should I try to get a job in tech right now (Am I even job ready?), apply other similar training programs or just self study or work on project(s)? I know it can be mix of everything but I'm wondering what is a good general direction I should focus on?
I am planning to take a break this month of course, the past 6 months have been extremely tiring and the recent event caused a lot of mental stress and damage. I think I might be burnout again. Just nice.. Diablo IV is round the corner hahaha thanks for reading! :D

Good evening folks! I hope everyone has had a great start to their week after the holiday weekend :-) Listed here is another batch of pens as I continue to curate my collection. All these pens are great writers and would serve you well. It gets harder and harder to choose which pens to let go of. As a virtue of that, there is no “bad” choice here!
Verification and photos: https://imgur.com/a/HVF7yzN Please note: there may be ink on the nibs(and on my fingers lol) in the photos as a result of my testing them. Rest assured, all nibs are in great shape
-All sub rules in effect. PayPal G&S is the only acceptable form of payment! -Please post on this listing first, then PM with your PayPal email and I’ll get an invoice sent out ASAP. Users that indicate firm intention through messaging to purchase a pen will get priority for a given pen, irrespective of “pm” order in the thread.
-The cost of shipping is higher than ever. All packages ship with full value insurance-absolutely no exceptions. Shipping will be a flat rate of $10. I’m happy to combine shipping if you purchase multiple items.
On to the pens!
[D for vintage] Platinum Pocket Pen w/18k factory Music nib! $200+shipping
This pen is quite unusual in that you definitely don’t see them everyday. While I’m not an expert on Platinum as a brand, I do know these pens are few and far between. In fact, this is the only one I’ve ever seen available and I paid a pretty penny for it. I’m sure there are others out there, but they rarely come up for sale. This is a must have for any Platinum collectors out there! The 18k music nib writes absolutely beautifully and has a bit of spring. The pen is also in good shape and is ready to write sweet, sweet music! If you’re a Platinum collector(or a traveling composer), this is a must have pen for you ;-)
[D for vintage] vintage Pelikan 400 w/14k EF flexible nib $235+shipping
Vintage Pelikans do not get the hype they deserve within the community imho. They are great pens in every way! Beautiful, sleek, very easy to clean, and with great nibs, you’d be hard pressed to find a pen, either modern or vintage, with more upside/features than these models! This pen, from the early to mid 1950’s, is in good condition with very light microscratching commensurate with careful usage throughout the years. Somewhere along its life, the original cap was replaced with an example from a 400nn and is in really good shape itself with only some light brassing. The nib is absolutely wonderful and is the real draw here. It has plenty of flex available if you’d like to use the pen for that. It writes absolutely beautifully, the ebonite feed offering a steady supply of ink for wet, luscious lines. I have a bunch of these pens in all nib sizes for a good reason. If you don’t have one of these, you should seriously consider picking this pen up. I guarantee you’ll be happy you tried it out. I’ll also guarantee that you won’t stop at only one! They’re truly that good….
[D for vintage] Parker Vacumatic in Gray Pearl Shadow-Wave w/14k Med. flexible nib $125+shipping
Up next is a fantastic user grade Vac that would be perfect for someone who’s either just getting into vintage, or for the person who wants a vintage pen to carry with them daily without having to worry about losing an Uber expensive pen. The pen presents very well but is user grade with brassing to the trim and a depression or 2 on the body. The nib is awesome and has rare flexibility to add plenty of character to your writing. It is not easy to find a Vac with flexibility at this price point!
[D for vintage] Wahl full length slender pen in Jade celluloid w/14k Fine flexible nib $125+shipping
Those that know me here know that I collect Wahl as a primary focus. This pen was an early acquisition and is perfect for getting into vintage. The Jade celluloid has discoloring, as do most pens made of this material. The color on this pen is a lot better than some. The nib is awesome! A fine with flexibility to take your writing to the next level. I’ve traded up to a similar pen that has better coloring, so this pen must go! Discover why I love Wahl so much! I guarantee you would not be disappointed with this pen if you purchased it! Last minute edit: I just realized I didn’t take a picture of the nib on this pen, grrrr. The nib is in excellent condition. The light is now gone for the day however, so I’ll provide pics to whoever is interested.
[D for vintage] Ingersoll all metal pen w/14k Med. Stub Italic nib $110+shipping
This pen is great for somebody who wants to experience vintage stub flex without breaking the budget. While still a stunning pen, the exterior does have some wear, however it’s a very old pen! This is a twist filler, requiring that one simply remove the blind cap, insert the nib in ink, and twist the metal piece to “deflate” the sac. After releasing the metal piece, allowing the sac to fill with ink, boom, the pen is filled! The nib is what makes this pen special! A #2 Ingersoll, it is a truly flexible, italic like MF nib. There is some feedback when writing, however this pen is a whole lot of fun to write with! If you’ve never experienced a flexible stub, here’s your chance to do so in a relatively inexpensive manner!
[D for vintage] Waterman CF all metal pen-Crocodile pattern w/18k Broad nib $195+shipping
This beautiful all metal CF is a prodigious writer! It’s also the sought after crocodile pattern. Wet, juicy goodness! It’s in spectacular, collector grade condition! Aside from the normal marks all CF’s get on the overlay of their sections, the pen is in perfect shape. You’d be hard pressed to convince anyone this is a vintage pen! Aside from the solid gold models, this is the penultimate CF. I have one last CF I’ll be keeping. Believe me, it was a very hard choice as to which one to let go of. hard to find and expensive CF proprietary converter included in this sale
[D for vintage] Parker Vacumatic Deb. in burgundy w/14k EF-F nib $125+shipping
This may be one of the most beautiful Vacumatics I’ve ever owned! It’s certainly feature packed and is one of the most fancy pants version(aside from the gold Imperial model) you could get of this model/size pen back in the day. Double-striped jewels, duo-tone nib….this pen has it all! Nib writes a perfect, beautifully juicy MF line! There’s some brassing on the trim, and a name engraved on the barrel, but this pen is absolutely stunning in person! Take a look at the video in the gallery.
Modern pens below!
[B+] Lamy Accent Briarwood w/14k Med nib $115+shipping
Lamy’s Accent is a great way to enjoy Lamy’s gold nibs. This pen is customizable in that you can purchase additional barrel inserts if you wanted. The Medium nib writes beautifully and is exactly what one would expect from a Lamy nib. This pen is in really good shape and needs a new owner who will actually use it!
[B+] Lamy Studio Palladium w/14k Fine nib $125+shipping
There’s probably not a whole lot I can say about the Lamy Studio that hasn’t already been said and they are indeed, great pens! This one is in great condition and also writes beautifully. I’ve always liked the way Lamy gold nibs feel against paper. I also really like the ergonomics of this pen. For my hands they’re extremely comfortable to hold, and quite grippy given the texture on the section. This pen is ready to be your faithful writing companion :-) I’m primarily a vintage guy and don’t use this pen nearly enough to justify owning it.
[A2] Pelikan M200 w/SS Med. nib $110+shipping
This is Pelikans entry level model in beautifully chatoyant brown! This pen is stunningly beautiful and also writes extremely well. Hot take….Pelikan stainless nibs are fantastic! Not often talked about due to Pelikans much ballyhooed gold nibs, the stainless examples are wet, smooth, reliable writers. This pen is essentially brand new and has only been inked once with the very gentle Waterman Black(my mainstay ink). Another good thing about these stainless nibs is that they write true to size, unlike a lot of Pelikans gold nib offerings ;-) The absolute best thing about these pens are the screw in nib units standard across most of Pelikans lineup. They make these pens a breeze to clean! You get the ink capacity of a piston filler with the easy to clean nature of screw in nibs? Sign me up!!
[Parts due to no nib, A2 otherwise] Tactile Turn Gist-all copper NO NIB $125+shipping
This pen is essentially brand new and has only been inked once or twice. I’m keeping the nib that was in this pen, however it’ll take any Bock #6 nib unit that you’d like to install. This pen is in immaculate condition as it relates to the metal, save for a bit of patina to the raw copper surface of the body(which can be polished if you prefer). I don’t think Tactile Turn produces the Gist model any more(a mistake imo as these are really awesome pens) so if you’ve been wanting one of these, I’d grab it! As time has passed, it seems they come up for sale less and less often. Also willing to trade this pen for a Titanium version in similar, like new condition
[B+] Gravitas Pocket pen-copper w/SS Fine nib $90+shipping
Gravitas pens are hot right now! It’s no wonder as you can feel the quality of workmanship as soon as you pick one of these pens up. This pen is in great condition with only a bit of a developing patina. I’m happy to polish it for the new owner if requested. Grab this pen at a discount and without the wait of shipping across the pond.
[B+]Gravitas Pocket Pen-brass w/Ti ultra flex nib $100+shipping
Same story as above for this one. A quality pen with almost zero signs of usage. The ultra flex nib has been quite a surprise for me! It is much softer than say, a noodlers Ahab. I’m talking MUCH softer. It also writes extremely well! The thing is, since I’m a vintage flex guy, the nib just doesn’t get the use it deserves, so it’s listed here :-(
[B+]Platinum PTL-5000a w/14k Fine nib $90+shipping
Another Platinum, this one discontinued several years ago. While it’s a great pen that writes wet and smooth for a Japanese fine, I just don’t use it. These pens gained an almost cult like following and were known to have nibs with flexibility. This example is no different. Great pen in great condition and with a great nib!

INGREDIENTS
· 1 cup vegetable oil
· 2.5 pounds lamb necks. Alternatively, use any tough boney cut
· 2 yellow onions, thinly sliced
· 2 cans of kidney beans (800g)
· ½ teaspoon turmeric
· Salt and black pepper, to taste
· 6 whole dried Persian limes, pierced
· 4 cups finely chopped parsley
· 1 cup finely chopped fresh cilantro (aka Corriander)
· 1 cup chopped fresh fenugreek leaves, or ¼ cup dried (this is called Kasuri Methi at Indian grocery stores). Note Fenugreek seeds are not a substitute
· 1 cup finely chopped scallions (aka spring onion)
· 2 tablespoons dried Persian lime powder, or ¼ cup fresh lime juice
· 2 cups water.
​
INSTRUCTIONS

1. Add to the slow cooker (i) 2 cups of water, (ii) ½ teaspoon of Turmeric (iii) lime powder, and (iv) Persian limes. Poke holes in the limes with the end of a knife.
2. In a frying pan brown the lamb necks. Get the pan as hot as humanly possible and caramelize the shit out of the lamb. This’ll help a variety in meat texture later on. Move the lamb to the slow cooker once browned.
3. Slice onions. In the aforementioned pan cook onions in residual meat fat for 10 minutes. I like the onions to range from cooked to cremated. Transfer onions to the slow cooker.
4. Finely dice parsley, cilantro, fenugreek, and scallions. In the same pan as before add 1 cup vegetable oil. Heat on medium. Dump in all herbs and cook for 20 minutes. Season with salt to support breakdown of herbs. Transfer cooked herbs to the slow cooker.
5. Add kidney beans to the slow cooker.
6. Cook until meat is falling off bones, remove bones, and add pepper and salt to taste. Serve with rice/pilaf.

Looking for my misses to devote my kisses, and some of the best parts of my mind and body, with caring, sharing, giving mutual deep loving mind-body bliss. Early on with chatting, we should verify if there is attraction to pursue IRL romantic, sensual fun. Casual stuff is not fun enough, plus it's risky and leaves one feeling empty. I also feel it's disrespectful, like saying someone is not worthy of more than temporary lust. If someone is special to you, it's not a big ask to be patient and faithful, whether dating for shorter or longer term. I'm confident to prove how being faithful is best by giving endless hours of fun. My passions to persuade and pleasure my lady to feel this bliss relates to my attraction to her mind, body, looks, personality while learning her preferences and helping her to enjoy herself.
I'm mostly mellow, chill, but can be wildly affectionate in ways with my lady, indoors and out, and appreciate nature, culture, arts and architecture around Los Angeles and SoCal. I love to share pleasurable and mentally stimulating, creative experiences, making out, to making love for hours, deeply satisfying your mind and body. I can take charge, teaching, being patient, but I can also switch roles, learning, letting you be in control. I like regular exercise, and partner stretching, massages with workouts. I mainly like naturally straight to wavy-curly hair types, of any color. I go for a petite but curvy body, up to a healthy, fuller figure, pinup model type and other features I can explain. I like natural facial beauty, not into cake-face, highly filtered Insta, lip injected LA looks, or with elective surgery, enhanced or fake body parts. I'm not anti-makeup, winged eyeliner can look hot. I'm white, attractive, in nice shape, grey blue eyes, wavy brownish hair, never married, no children, kind of edgy artist skater musician looks that cleans up well.

Looking for my misses to devote my kisses, and some of the best parts of my mind and body, with caring, sharing, giving mutual deep loving mind-body bliss. Early on with chatting, we should verify if there is attraction to pursue IRL romantic, sensual fun. Casual stuff is not fun enough, plus it's risky and leaves one feeling empty. I also feel it's disrespectful, like saying someone is not worthy of more than temporary lust. If someone is special to you, it's not a big ask to be patient and faithful, whether dating for shorter or longer term. I'm confident to prove how being faithful is best by giving endless hours of fun. My passions to persuade and pleasure my lady to feel this bliss relates to my attraction to her mind, body, looks, personality while learning her preferences and helping her to enjoy herself.
I'm mostly mellow, chill, but can be wildly affectionate in ways with my lady, indoors and out, and appreciate nature, culture, arts and architecture around Los Angeles and SoCal. I love to share pleasurable and mentally stimulating, creative experiences, making out, to making love for hours, deeply satisfying your mind and body. I can take charge, teaching, being patient, but I can also switch roles, learning, letting you be in control. I like regular exercise, and partner stretching, massages with workouts. I mainly like naturally straight to wavy-curly hair types, of any color. I go for a petite but curvy body, up to a healthy, fuller figure, pinup model type and other features I can explain. I like natural facial beauty, not into cake-face, highly filtered Insta, lip injected LA looks, or with elective surgery, enhanced or fake body parts. I'm not anti-makeup, winged eyeliner can look hot. I'm white, attractive, in nice shape, grey blue eyes, wavy brownish hair, never married, no children, kind of edgy artist skater musician looks that cleans up well.

Looking for my misses to devote my kisses, and some of the best parts of my mind and body, with caring, sharing, giving mutual deep loving mind-body bliss. Early on with chatting, we should verify if there is attraction to pursue IRL romantic, sensual fun. Casual stuff is not fun enough, plus it's risky and leaves one feeling empty. I also feel it's disrespectful, like saying someone is not worthy of more than temporary lust. If someone is special to you, it's not a big ask to be patient and faithful, whether dating for shorter or longer term. I'm confident to prove how being faithful is best by giving endless hours of fun. My passions to persuade and pleasure my lady to feel this bliss relates to my attraction to her mind, body, looks, personality while learning her preferences and helping her to enjoy herself.
I'm mostly mellow, chill, but can be wildly affectionate in ways with my lady, indoors and out, and appreciate nature, culture, arts and architecture around Los Angeles and SoCal. I love to share pleasurable and mentally stimulating, creative experiences, making out, to making love for hours, deeply satisfying your mind and body. I can take charge, teaching, being patient, but I can also switch roles, learning, letting you be in control. I like regular exercise, and partner stretching, massages with workouts. I mainly like naturally straight to wavy-curly hair types, of any color. I go for a petite but curvy body, up to a healthy, fuller figure, pinup model type and other features I can explain. I like natural facial beauty, not into cake-face, highly filtered Insta, lip injected LA looks, or with elective surgery, enhanced or fake body parts. I'm not anti-makeup, winged eyeliner can look hot. I'm white, attractive, in nice shape, grey blue eyes, wavy brownish hair, never married, no children, kind of edgy artist skater musician looks that cleans up well.

I stumbled across a flight redemption to Japan (35k points economy United) for August 8th. So I'm just starting to plan now, I ran a prompt through GPT asking what should I do and thought I would ask you guys for other suggestions. I'm not firm with a day to day schedule yet so I'm more so interested in just a list of places you recommend/ amount of days to stay in the city, if possible.
I'm also curious do you think USJ/ Disney Sea is worth it? Ill be going with my girlfriend our interest rank as

1. FOOD
2. Nature
3. Anime

This is what the robot overlords suggested let me know what you guys think! I can already tell you days 25-30 are a bit unrealistic. Our original plan was 3 weeks so im not sure what to do with the extra days at the end... Any advice would be greatly appreciated. But besides that the trip looks good ofc not everything listed under a city will be done.
Tokyo (7 days) (Suggestions for a base location would be greatly appreciated!)
Day 1 (August 8): Depart from the US.
Day 2 (August 9): Arrive in Tokyo, Japan. Check in to your hotel, relax, and adjust to the jet lag.
Days 3-7 (August 10-14): Explore Tokyo. Suggested sights: Asakusa, Akihabara, Shibuya Crossing, Shinjuku, Meiji Shrine, Tsukiji Fish Market, Ueno Park, Odaiba, and Tokyo Disneyland/DisneySea.
Day Trip: Nikko (Day trip)
Day 8 (August 15): Day trip to Nikko. Visit Toshogu Shrine, Nikko National Park, and the picturesque Kegon Waterfall.
Hakone (3 days)
Days 9-11 (August 16-18): Head to Hakone. Enjoy the hot springs (onsen), visit the Hakone Open-Air Museum, and take a sightseeing cruise on Lake Ashi.
Kyoto (5 days)
Days 12-16 (August 19-23): Travel to Kyoto. Visit Fushimi Inari Shrine, Kiyomizu-dera, Ginkaku-ji, Kinkaku-ji, Arashiyama Bamboo Grove, and Kyoto Imperial Palace.
Day Trip: Nara (Day trip)
Day 17 (August 24): Day trip to Nara. Visit Todaiji Temple, Nara Park, Kasuga Taisha Shrine, and Naramachi.
Osaka (3 days) (3 days)
Days 18-20 (August 25-27): Travel to Osaka. Explore Dotonbori, Universal Studios Japan, Osaka Castle, and the Umeda Sky Building.
Hiroshima (2 days)
Days 21-22 (August 28-29): Travel to Hiroshima. Visit the Peace Memorial Park, Itsukushima Shrine on Miyajima Island, and Hiroshima Castle.
Tokyo (2 days)
Day 23-24 (August 30-31): Travel back to Tokyo, relax and explore anything you may have missed in the city.
Hokkaido (5 days)
Day 25-29 (September 1-5): Fly to Hokkaido. Enjoy the nature in Furano and Biei, and explore Sapporo city.
Day 30 (September 6): Fly back from Hokkaido to Tokyo and catch your flight back to the US.

mie mi-ar placea un Vw caddy maxi, daca ar avea .......(si de aici incepe utopia),::
-un motor 1.8 decent pe benzina longitudinal,
-transmisie spate, diferential blocabil
-roti de 17, si distanta dintre axe mai mica.. si nu cu rotile pe colturi..
-garda la sol de 15 cm minim
*//*
in mod real imi permit un sandero din 2009 1.6, cu aer conditionat. 3-4 mii $

Today's anniversaries are:
2009

• Venetian Snares - Horsey Noises (electronic, idm, analog, breakcore, jungle, Winnipeg)

2010

• A Forest of Stars - Opportunistic Thieves of Spring (black metal, metal, ambient, psychedelic, United Kingdom)

2011

• Being - Arrival ()

2012

• Délétère - White Crow (black metal, death metal, metal, québec, grind, Canada)

2013

• Masiro - Masiro (alternative, instrumental, math rock, mathcore, post-rock, Oxford)
  
• Rhùn - Ïh (experimental, progressive rock, contemporary, garage, zeuhl, Caen)
  
• Riffer Madness - Sinister Smoke (groove metal, hard rock, metal, thrash metal, New Orleans)
  

2014

• 7 for 4 - Splash ()
  
• Moulettes - Constellations (Folk)
  
• Old Soul & ██████ (Nic) - Split (alternative, atmospheric black metal, black metal, alternative, ambient, atmospheric black metal, black metal, hardcore, post-black, post-hardcore, post-metal, post-rock, screamo, Plzen)
  

2015

• Indricothere - Ⅺ Ⅱ (ambient)
  
• Jaga Jazzist - Starfire (electronic, fusion, jazz, break beat, drum and bass, electronica, techno, Oslo)
  
• Jute Gyte - Ship of Theseus (metal, ambient, avant-garde black metal, black metal, electronic, experimental, experimental black metal, industrial black metal, microtonal, noise, polyrhythm, progressive black metal, quarter-tone, United States)
  
• Rolo Tomassi - Grievances (hardcore, progressive, rock, experimental, grindcore, mathcore, noisecore, United Kingdom)
  

2016

• Endless Melancholy & Desolate Horizons - Deep as the Dark Blue Sea (ambient, melancholic, modern classical, piano, soundscape, Ukraine) Read our review.

2017

• Beach Bunny - Crybaby (alternative, indie, indie #surfpunk #pop, Chicago)
  
• Červen - Červen (rock, imstrumental, math rock, mathrock, noise rock, post-rock, progressive, progrock, Prague)
  
• James Norbert Ivanyi - Denalavis (metal, guitar, instrumental, progressive, rock, Sydney)
  
• Mesrine - Source of Hatred (crossover, crust, death metal, grindcore, metal, Québec)
  
• Odwalla & Baba Sissoko - Ancestral Ritual (Jazz)
  
• Αρσ δε ερ (Ars de er) - Noir (experimental, rock, avant-prog, eclectic rock, new age, prog rock, Minsk)
  
• Петр Ившин (Petr Ivšin / Peter Ivshin) - The Path of the Hermit, Volume 2: Transformation (Jazz)
  

2018

• Ben Howard - Noonday Dream (Singer & Songwriter)
  
• Boar - Poseidon (rock, doom, doom metal, drone, noise rock, psychedelia, psychedelic, psychedelic rock, sludge, stoner, stoner metal, stoner rock, Finland)
  
• Burial in the Sky - Creātiō et hominus (death metal, metal, technical metal, atmospheric, prog rock, progressive, progressive metal, psychedelic, psychedelic death metal, technical death metal, Mount Carmel)
  
• Catbamboo - Catbamboo (experimental, progressive rock, instrumental, jazz, math rock, Baton Rouge)
  
• Cobalt Chapel - Mountain (alternative, acid, experimental, folk, progressive, psychedelic, Sheffield)
  
• Cult of Occult - Anti Life (metal, occult doom blackened sludge, doom, doom metal, sludge, sludge metal, France)
  
• Ghost - Prequelle (Metal)
  
• Human Cull - Revenant (crust, grindcore, punk, death metal, grind, sludge, Bristol)
  
• Human Factor - Let Nature Take Its Course (melodic rock, moscow, progressive rock, rock, alternative rock, atmospheric, classic rock, groove, instrumental rock, post-rock, r.a.i.g., space rock, Russian Federation)
  
• i.o - For Feral Rust (experimental, mathcore index, progressive rock, avant-garde, post-hardcore, quake3arena, straight edge, vegan, vegan straight edge, Victoria)
  
• Isenordal - Spectral Embrace (metal, baroque, black metal, funeral doom, neofolk, viking metal, Seattle)
  
• June 1974 - Nemesi (alternative, classic, dance., death, italy, metal, progressive, shoegaze rock, Italy)
  
• Karmic Juggernaut - The Dreams that Stuff Are Made Of (rock, funk, heavy psych, progressive, psychedelic, Asbury Park) Read our review.
  
• Kaven - Magnum Trendite (progressive rock, rock, "rock n' roll", "rock'n' roll", heavy rock, indie rock, prog rock, Toronto)
  
• Lady With - The Lodge (alternative, alternative spa music, film music without film, Paris)
  
• Northwoods - Wasteland (mathcore, metal, noisecore, posthardcore, Perugia)
  
• Peter Evans & Weasel Walter - Poisonous (experimental, albert ayler, edgard varese, free improvisation, free jazz, iannis xenakis, john zorn, modern classical, new music, noise, peter evans, roscoe mitchell, the flying luttenbachers, weasel walter, New York) Read our review.
  
• Raum Kingdom - Everything & Nothing (metal, doom, post-metal, post-rock, screamo, sludge, Ireland)
  
• Ricarda cometa - 2 (experimental, cumbia, improv, improvisación, latin, noise, Buenos Aires)
  
• Sons of Alpha Centauri - Continuum (rock, ambient metal, desert rock, instrumental rock, post-metal, riff rock, stoner rock, United Kingdom)
  
• Sphaera - Teratology (death metal, metal, nancy, blastbeat, death metal, djent, experimental, fractal audio, line6, progressive metal, technical death metal, Metz)
  
• The Brooks - Freewheelin' Walking (funk, instrumental, r&b, sample, soul, Montreal)
  
• Violet Cold - Sommermorgen, Part Ⅰ: Innocence (metal, ambient, black metal, blackgaze, chillout, chillwave, classical, downtempo, dreamy, electronic, post-rock, shoegaze, uplifting, Azerbaijan)
  
• Z comme - Dis Order (jazz, johann lefevre, julien behar, philippe rak, segre, stephane decolly, free, jazz, jazz and improvised music, world groove, Angers)
  

2019

• Feat. Esserelà - Disco Dooro (jazz fusion, porn groove, progressive rock, rock, acid, alternative rock, funk, jazz, math rock, psychedelic rock, Bologna)
  
• Fools and Foes - Fools and Foes (folk, indie folk rock, indie, indie folk, indie rock, indie rock acoustic, Manila)
  
• Garden Quartet - Garden Quartet (experimental, doom, noise, punk, rock, world, Melbourne)
  
• Hell Is Other People & My Lonely Sea - Split (metal, post, post black metal, post-black, post-metal, Angarsk)
  
• Tenchio - 004 Sigh-TM Stutter (electronic, experimental, rock, math rock, post-hardcore, post-rock, progressive, Paysandú)
  
• The Air of Hiroshima - Китч (Kitč) (electronic, metalcore, rock, atmospheric, melodic-hardcore, post-hardcore, post-metal, post-rock, progressive, screamo, Yekaterinburg)
  

2020

• Anaximander - Demo (technical death metal)
  
• Federico Biraben, Alex Musatov, and Pablo Murgier - Tiempo interrumpido (free improvisation)
  
• Federico Calcagno - Liquid Identities (avant-garde jazz)
  
• French TV - Stories without Fingerprints (progressive rock)
  
• God - Ⅳ: Revelation (deathcore)
  
• Graham Dunning & Colin Webster - Terrain (free improvisation)
  
• June 1974 - Post Pop Decadent Euphoria (synthwave)
  
• Justin Rock - Spring as Usual (experimental rock)
  
• Olivia De Prato - Streya (contemporary classical)
  
• Prudent Primate - Aphelion (jazz fusion) Read our review.
  
• Rïga - Victoire d'un mouvement (experimental electro, world fusion)
  
• Sarah Peebles, Kyle Brenders, and Nilan Perera - Delicacies in the Garden of Plenty (electroacoustic)
  
• Space Echo - 6月 (Rokugatsu / June) (darkwave)
  
• Ted Byrnes - Opposing Viewpoints (free improvisation)
  
• William Soovik's Grand Finale - Major (jazz fusion)
  
• Αρσ δε ερ (Ars de er) - La Métamorphose (progressive rock)
  

2021

• Consorts - Distinctions (free improvisation)
  
• Dominic Lash Quartet - Līmulus (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Hannes Großmann - To Where the Light Retreats (progressive death metal)
  
• John Butcher, Dominic Lash, John Russell, and Mark Sanders - Discernment (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Myxo - One Dozen and One Nights (progressive metal)
  
• Pauwels - Toli (noise rock)
  
• Violeta García & Émilie Girard-Charest - Impermanence (free improvisation)
  
• Yves Charuest & Benedict Taylor - Knotted Threads (free improvisation)
  

2022

• Botanist & Thief - EP 0: Cicatrix & Diamond Brush (avant-garde black metal)
  
• Dantchev: Domain - The Lions We Are (folk, world fusion)
  
• Hornwood Fell - Sagittarius A (avant-garde black metal)
  
• Joi - Mark 1 (post-rock, noise rock)
  
• Lunar Chalice - Transcendentia: The Shadow Pilgrimage (black metal)
  
• No Pressure - No Pressure (pop punk)
  

We sure have had a run with our landlord’s nest. Our AC was broken this spring, so our landlord reluctantly hired someone to repair it. Once it was repaired, it was working fine for a moment—but then we had trouble getting our apartment to cool down. The air was blowing and wasnt hot—but we could not control our temps for some reason and the place would not cool off. Our nest sensor also would not connect to wifi no matter what we did. I called the Google Nest support line, and they informed me that the model sensor installed was a default so they would send me a new one for free. However, they swore it was not the reason for our AC temp troubles.
Once I switched out the old sensor for the new, was able to connect to wifi, and got the app for me phone—poof, all of a sudden we were getting better cooling. This was all fine until a couple days ago…now the trouble has begun. It’s so hot in our apartment, and once again, no matter what I manually set it to—it is having a hard time cooling down.
We were testing fan schedules and cooling schedules—and noticed the trouble started when we tried to instill the fan schedule. I noticed in my energy settings yesterday that auto schedule automatically switched our thermostat to HEAT•COOL mode as well?? I swore it was on cool only…but maybe this could be why? I turned off a lot of the settings, but could anyone please tell me if any settings would be confusing our Nest?

Rate my 20th Wedding Anniversary Trip (and offer suggestions). :) We're going Sunday - Saturday in August. We're pretty happy with the first half. I'm really unsure about the 2nd half.
Sunday - Wednesday (J.W. Marriott Grande Lakes)
We’re staying here 1/2 price thanks to some hotels dot com credits. We’re mostly planning on lounging around other than a trip to either Artist Point or California Grill. Maybe doing the Orlando Exotic Animal Encounter.
Can you watch the fireworks from California Grill? If you can, what time should we make a dinner reservation for? Do they pipe music in?
Wednesday - Friday are park days.
We’re either going to stay at the brand new Drury in Disney Springs or the Swan.
I like the Drury because for $500 for 3 days you get free breakfast, free dinner, free alcohol, free early morning entry, no resort fees and a nice pool and hot tub. Downside is taking an Uber everywhere.
I like the Swan because it’s a Deluxe resort, and we get evening hours at MK, we can walk to 2 parks, and it’s got a better pool, but it’s $250 more and no free food.
We’re planning on doing the Keys of the Kingdom Tour on Wednesday at 8:00 am. I haven’t a clue how we’re going to get into the park by 7:45 am when it doesn’t open until 9.
Then we plan on going to the hotel to chill for a while before going back to MK for evening hours and HEA.
Thursday we plan on park hopping our favorite rides for the other 3 parks.
Friday is a resort day until the Halloween part at MK.
We fly out at noon on Saturday.

They didn’t tell us the name of the next kid that disappeared. They didn’t tell us another kid had disappeared at all. We could all tell by the silence what had happened. It spoke volumes. I’m sure they talked about it in great detail amongst themselves. In PTA meetings and City Councils. My parents made sure to turn off the TV at 5 o’clock before the news came on, at least in my home. They’d turn it back on for the 11 o’clock news, when were were in bed and couldn’t hear the details.
The strange thing is, they never told us to just stop going outside. They told us to go in groups, sure, but they never decided, or as far as I could tell even though, to keep us all indoors. I guess that sort of freedom wasn’t something they were willing to give up. Instead, they did the neighborhood watch thing. For those few months, I remember my folks meeting more of our neighbors than in all the time previously, or since. Retirees would spend their days out in their front lawns, watching kids and everybody else coming and going. They’d even set up lawn furniture, with umbrellas, even all through the rains of spring. Cops stopped sitting in ambushes on the highways waiting for speeders and instead started patrolling the streets, chatting with us as we’d pass by. Weekends would see all the adults out in their yards, working on cars in the driveways, fixing the gutters, and so on. They had this weird way of looking at you as you’d ride by. Not hostile stares, but it was like they were cataloging your presence. Boy, eight years old, red raincoat silver bike, about 11:30 in the morning, heading south on Sorensen. Seemed fine.
The next time we saw it, it wasn’t in our neighborhood, and I was the one who saw it first. We were visiting Russ, a sort of 5th semi-friend from school. We rarely hung out, mostly owing to geography. His house wasn’t far as the crow flies, but it was up a steep hill. We spent a Saturday afternoon returning a cache of comic books we’d borrowed. The distance we covered was substantial, as we had decided to take lots of extra streets as switchbacks, rather than slowly push our bikes up the too-steep hills.
The descent was going to be the highlight of the trip, up until I saw the Hidebehind. We were on a curving road, a steep forested bluff on one side. The uphill slope was mostly ivy-covered raised foundations for the neighborhood’s houses. That side of the road was lined with parked cars, and the residents of the homes had to ascend steep staircases to get to their front doors.
I was ayt the back of the pack when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Movement, something brown squatting between two closely parked cars. My head snapped as I zoomed past, and despite not getting a good look, I knew it was that terrible thing. “It’s behind us!” I shouted and started pedaling hard. The others looked for themselves as I quickly rushed past them, but they soon joined my pace.
Ralph’s earlier idea of directly confronting the thing was set aside. We were moving too fast, and down too narrow a street to turn around. Then we saw it again it was to our left, off-road, between the trees. Suddenly it leaped from behind one tree trunk to the next and disappeared again. That hardly made sense, the base of the trees must have been thirty feet below the deck of the street we rode down. One of us, I think it was India, let out one of those strangled screams.
There it was again, back on the right, disappearing behind a mailbox as we approached. That couldn’t have been, it must have outpaced us and crossed in front of us. Logic would suggest there was more than one, but somehow the four of us knew it was the same thing. More impossible still, the pole holding up the mailbox was too thin, maybe two inches in diameter, yet that thing had disappeared behind it, like a Warner Bros. cartoon character. It was just enough to catch a better glimpse of it though. All brown. A head seemingly too bulbous and large for its body. Its limbs were thin but far longer, like a gibbon’s. Only a gibbon had normal elbows and knees. This thing bent its joints all wrong like it wasn’t part of the natural order. We were all terrified to wit’s end.
“The trail!” Ralph shouted, and the other three of us knew exactly what he meant. The top of it was only just around the curve. It was a dirt footpath for pedestrians ascending and descending South Hill, cutting through the woods on our left. It was too steep for cars, and to be honest, too steep for bikes. We’d played on it before, challenging each other to see how high up they could go, then descend back down without using our brakes. A short paved cul-de-sac at the bottom was enough space to stop before running into a cross street.
Ralph had held the previous group record, having climbed three-quarters of the way before starting his mad drop. India’s best was just short of that, I had only dared about halfway up, Ben only a third. This time, with certain death on our heels, the trail seemed the only way out. Nothing could have outrun a kid on a bike flying down that hill.
We followed Ralph’s lead, swinging to the right gutter of the street, then hanging a fast wide left up onto the curb, over a patch of gravel, between two boulders set up as bollards, lest a car driver mistake the entrance for a driveway, and then, like a roller coaster cresting the first hill, the bottom fell out.
It was the most overwhelming sensation of motion I’ve ever had, before or since. I suppose the danger behind us was the big reason, and being absolutely certain that only our speed was keeping us alive. I remember thinking it was like the speeder bike scene from Return of the Jedi, also a recent movie from the time. Only this was real. I didn’t just see the trees flashing past it, I could hear the motion as well. Cold air attacked my eyes and long streamers of tears rushed over my cheeks and the drops flew past my ears, I didn’t dare blink. Each little stone my tires struck threatened to up-end me and end it all. Yet, and perhaps worse, half the time it felt like I wasn’t in contact with the ground at all. I was going so fast that those same small stones were sending me an inch or two into the air, and the arc of the flights so closely matched the slope that by the time I contacted the trail again, I was significantly further down the hill.
At the same time, I had never felt more relief, as the thing behind us had no way of catching us now. Somehow, maybe the seriousness of the escape gave us both the motive and the seriousness to keep ourselves under control. Looking back, I marvel that at least one of us didn’t lose control and end up splitting our skulls open.
We hit the pavement of the cul-de-sac below, and didn’t bother to slow down. We raced through the cross-street, one angry driver screeching to a halt and laying on his horn. This brought out the neighborhood watch. Just a few of them at first. Still, we didn’t slow down, our momentum carried us back up the much shallower slope of our neighborhood. Witnesses saw us depart at high speed, and this only brought out more of the watch. We heard whistles behind us, just like our P.E. teacher’s whistle. We figured that was the watch’s alarm siren. Regardless of what happened to that thing, it was behind us. We returned to our homes, shaken, but safe and sound, our inertia taking us almost all of the way there.
Another kid disappeared that Sunday, up on South Hill. We’d suspected it because we could see the lights of the police cars on a high road, surrounding the spot where it would turn out later, one of the kid’s shoes had been found. Russ confirmed it at school on Monday. It was a kid he’d known, lived down the road from his place, went to private school which is why we didn’t recognize his name.
I remember seeing Ralph’s face the next day when he arrived at school. He looked angry. Strong. Like he’d been crying really hard, and now it was over and he was resolved. He said he’d felt guilty because the thing we’d escaped from had gotten the other kid instead. He tried to tell his old man about it, then his mom, then any adult he could. He’d tell them about the monster who hides behind things. They needed to focus on finding and stopping that instead of looking for some sort of creeper or serial killer. Of course, nobody had listened to him. They hadn’t listened to the rest of us either when we’d tried to tell.
So he’d devised a plan. He was calling it the “Fight Patrol,” which we didn’t argue with. If the adults wouldn’t do something, we would. We’d patrol our neighborhood on our bikes, the four of us, maybe a couple more if we could talk others into it. We’d chase it off like that first time, maybe for good, or maybe corner it. Clearly, it could not handle being caught.
Naturally, we brought up the scare on South Hill. He argued that was a bad place. Too isolated, couldn’t turn around easily. We needed to stay on our home turf, lots of visibility, and plenty of the Neighborhood Watch within earshot. Maybe we and the adults working together was the key, even if the adults didn’t understand the problem.
Well, that convinced us. Our first patrol was that afternoon, after school. We watched everybody’s back like hawks. Nothing had a chance to sneak up on us. Nothing could step out from behind a bush without getting spotted. By Friday afternoon there were eight of us. The next week we split up to extend our territory to the next neighborhoods over.
Nothing happened. We never saw anything. Ben thought it was because we were scaring it away. Ralph just thought we were failing, and took it personally. I myself thought the thing had just moved to different parts of town, where the new disappearances were taking place. I told him we should keep it up until the thing was caught.
It was all for naught.
One day, India didn’t show up for school. I asked everybody, the teachers, the office staff, the custodian, my parents. All of them said they didn’t know, and it was so easy to tell that they were lying. That would mark the end of the Fight Patrol.
Ben didn’t show up a couple of days after that. When I got home and collapsed into bed, my mother came in to tell me that Ben’s mother had called. She’d taken him out of school and they were moving elsewhere. I called up Ralph to let him know the news, and he was relieved too.
My last day was Friday, and then I was taken out. Again, I called Ralph so he wouldn’t worry. I guess when there were only two weeks left of school, and it was just grade school, a couple missed weeks don’t amount to much. So I ended up spending the bulk of the summer out in the country, with my grandparents, which was why I brought up my grandpa in the first place.
I suppose I did fine out on their farmhouse. I was safe. There was certainly no shortage of things for a kid to do. I think my mom felt a strong sense of relief too. Things slipped through the cracks.
My grandparents didn’t have cable, too far out of town. They just had an old-school antenna and got a couple of TV stations transmitting out of Canada, Vancouver specifically. I remember one July day, sitting in their living room. My grandmother had just fixed lunch for me and my grandfather and had gone out to do some gardening as we watched the news at noon.
My grandfather was already being ravaged by his illnesses. He was able to get around, but couldn’t do any real labor anymore. He’d lounge in front of the TV in a special lounge chair. He hardly talked, and when he did he’d just mumble some discomfort or complaint to my grandma.
The lead story on the news was the current situation in Farmingham, despite being in the neighboring country, it was still big news in Vancouver, and the whole rest of the region. It seemed the disappearances were declining, but the police were still frantically searching for a supposed serial killer. I didn’t pick up much about what they were talking about, I was a kid after all, but my grandfather was watching intently, despite his infirmity.
He mumbled something, I didn’t catch. I asked him was he said, and as I approached I heard him say “fearsome critters.”
He turned his eyes to me and said again, distinct and in a normal tone of voice, “fearsome critters,” then returned his attention to the screen. “I don’t know why they call them that. Fearsome, sure. But ‘critters?” Makes it sound silly. Like it's some sort of fairy tale that it ain’t. Guess it’s like whistling past the graveyard. Well, they don’t have to worry about them no more, guess they can call them what they like.”
Then he turned to me. “Do you know what it is?” he asked. “Squonk? Hodag? Gouger? Hidebehind?”
“Hidebehind,” I whispered, and he turned back to the TV with a sneer. I had no idea what on earth he was talking about. Remember, this would be years before I learned he spent his youth as a lumberjack. And yet, somehow, I knew exactly what we were talking about.
“Hidebehind,” he repeated. “That will do it. They give them such stupid names. The folk back East, that is. Wisconsin. Minnesota. Ohio. Way back in the old days, before my grandfather would have been your age. Back when those places were covered by forests. They didn’t give them silly names back then, no. Back then they were something to worry about. Then they moved on, though. They all went out West, to here, followed the loggers. So as once they didn’t have to worry about them anymore, they started making up silly stories, silly names. “Fearsome critters,” they’d call them. Just tall tales to tell the greenhorns and scare them out of their britches. Then they’d make them even sillier, and tell the stories to little kids to spook them.”
“Not out here they didn’t tell no stories nor make up any names. It was bad enough they followed us out. I had no clue they even existed until I saw one for myself. Bout your age, I suppose. Maybe a little older. Nobody ever talks about them. Not even when they take apart a work crew, one by one. They just pull the crews back. Wait till mid-summer when the land is dry but not too dry. Then they move the crews in, a lot of them. Do some burning, make a lot of smoke. Drives them deeper into the woods, you know. Then you can cut the whole damn place down. But nobody asks why, nobody tells why. The people who know just take care of it.”
“I guess that’s why they’re coming to us now. All the old woods are almost gone. So they’ve got to. Like mountain lions. I supposed it’s going to happen sooner or later.”
We heard my grandma come into the back door to the utility room, and stomp the dirt off her boots. My grandfather turned to me one last time and said, “Whichever way you look at it, somebody’s just got to take care of it.” Then my grandmother came in from the utility room and asked us how our lunch had been.
Now that I look back at it, that might have been the last time my grandfather and I really had a meaningful talk.
We moved back home in late August. I had been having a fantastic summer. Though looking back, I suppose it could be rough for a still-young woman to be living in her aging parents' house when she’s got a perfectly good husband and house of her own in town.
First thing I did was visit Ralph. He’d been busy. He’d fortified his treehouse into a proper, well, tree fort. He’d nailed a lot of reinforcing plywood over everything. He hadn’t gone out on patrols by himself, of course, but the height of the tree fort afforded him a view of the nearest streets. He’d also made some makeshift weapons out of old baseball bats, a hockey stick, and a garden rake. The sharp rocks he’d attached to them with masking tape didn’t look very secure, but it’d only take one or two good blows with that kind of firepower. He also explained he’d been teaching himself kung fu, by copying all the movies he saw on kung fu movies late at night on the unpopular cable channels. That was classic Ralph.
As for the monster, it seemed to be going away. Its last victim had disappeared weeks previously, part of the reason my mom felt it was time to go back. This had been at night too. What’s more, the victim had been a college student, a very petite lady, barely five feet tall, under a hundred pounds. The news had speculated that their presumptive serial killer had assumed she was a child. I remember thinking the Hidebehind didn’t care. Maybe it just thought she couldn’t run fast enough to get away or put up a fight when he caught her. Like a predator.
At any rate, the college students were incensed. Of course, they’d been hyper-alert and concerned when it was just local kids going missing. Now that it was one of their own the camel’s back had broken. They really went hard on the protests, blaming the local police for not doing enough.
They started setting up their own patrols, and at night too. Marches with sometimes dozens of students at a time. They called it “Take Back the Night.” They’d walk the streets, making sure they’d be heard. Some cared drums or tambourines. They’d help escort people home, and sometimes they’d unintentionally stop random crimes they’d happen across. I felt like this was what the Fight Patrol could have been, if we’d just been old enough, or had been listened to. This would be the endgame for the Hidebehind, one way or another.
I stayed indoors the rest of the summer, and really there wasn’t much left. It doesn’t get too hot in the Pacific Northwest, nobody has air conditioners, or at least we didn’t back then. It will get stuffy though, in August, and I liked to sleep with my window open. I could hear the chants and challenges from the student patrols on their various routes. Sometimes I could hear them coming from far away, and every now and then they’d pass down my street. It felt like a wonderful security blanket.
I also liked the honeysuckle my mother had planted around the perimeter of the house. Late at night, if I was struggling to fall asleep, the air in my bedroom would start to circulate. Cold air would start pouring in over my windowsill, bringing the sweet scent of that creepervine with it, and I’d the sensation before finally passing out.
This one night, and I have no knowledge if I was awake, asleep, or drifting off, but the air in the room changed, and cooler air poured over the windowsill and swept over my bed, but it didn’t carry the sweet smell of honeysuckle. Regardless of my initial state, I was alert pretty quickly. It was a singularly unpleasant smell. A bit like death, which at that age I was mostly unfamiliar with, except a time some animal had died underneath the crawlspace of our house. There was more to it, though. The forest, the deep forest. I don’t know and still don’t know, what that meant. Most smells I associate with the forest are pleasant. Cedar, pine needles, thick loam of the forest floor, campfires, even the creosote and turpentine of those old timey-logging camps. This was none of those smells. Maybe… rotting granite, and the spores of slime molds. Mummified hemlocks and beds of needles compressed into something different than soil. It disturbed me.
So I sat up in bed. I hadn’t noticed before, but I’d been sweating, just lightly in the stuffy summer night heat. Now it was turning cold. Before me was my bedroom window. A lit rectangle in a pitch-dark room. To either side were my white, opened curtains, the one on the right, by the open half of the window, stirred just slightly in the barely perceptible breeze.
Most of the rectangle was the black form of the protective cypress tree. Only the slight conical nature of the tree distinguished it from a perfectly vertical column. To either side was a dim soft orange glow coming from the sodium lamps of the street passing by our house. It was perhaps a bit diffuse from the screen set in my window to keep out mosquitos. In the distance was the sound of an approaching troupe of the Take Back the Night patrol. They were neither drumming nor chanting, but still making plenty of noise. They were, perhaps, three or four blocks away, and heading my way.
For some reason that I didn’t understand, I got up, off of the foot of the bed. The window, being closer, appeared bigger. I took a silent step further. The patrol approached closer. Another step. I leaned to my right, just a bit, getting a slightly wider view to the left of the cypress tree. That was the direction the patrol was coming from.
That was when it resolved. The deeper black silhouette within the black silhouette of the cypress tree. A small lithe frame with a too-bulbous head. It too leaned, in its case, to the left, to see around the cypress tree as the patrol approached. They reached our block,on the other side of the street. A dozen rowdy college students, not trying to be quiet. None of them fearing the night. Each feeling safe and determined, and absorbed in their own night out rather than being overtly sensitive to their surroundings. They were distracted, unfocused If they had been peering into the shadows, if just one of them had looked towards my house, behind the cypress tree, they might have seen the Hidebehind, poking its face out and watching them transit past. But they didn’t notice.
It hid behind the cypress tree, and I hid behind it, hoping that the blackness of my bedroom would protect me. I stood absolutely still, as I had done once when a hornet had once landed on the back of my neck. Totally assure that if I made the slightest movement or made the slightest sound that I’d be stung. I hardly even breathed.
The patrol passed, from my perspective, behind the cypress tree and temporarily out of view. The Hidebehind straightened, ready to lean to the right and watch the patrol pass, only it didn’t lean. Even as I watched the patrol pass on to the right, it stood there, stock still, just as I was doing.
It was then I became aware that my room had become stuffy again. The scent was gone. The air had shifted and was now flowing out through the screen again, carrying my own scent with it. I knew what this meant, and yet I was too paralyzed to react. The thing started to turn, very slowly. It was a predator understanding that it might have become victim to its own game. It turned as if it was thinking the same thing I had been thinking, that the slightest movement might give it away.
It turned, and I saw its face. Like some kind of rotting desiccated, shriveling fruit, it was covered in wrinkles. Circles within concentric circles surrounded its two great eyes, eyes which took up so much of its face. I couldn’t, and still struggle, to think of words to describe it. Instead, I still think in terms of analogies. At the time I thought of the creature from the film E.T., only twisted and distorted into a thing of nightmares. Almost all eyelids, and a little drooping sucker mouth. Now that I’m more worldly, it reminds of creatures of ancient artworks. The key defining feature were the long horizontal slits it had for eyes. You see that in old masks carved in West Africa, or by the Inuit long ago. You see it in what’s called the “slit-eyed dogu” of ancient Japan.
As I watched the wrinkles on the face seemed to multiply. Then I realized this was the result of its eyes slowly widening. It’s mouth, too, slowly dilated, revealing innumerable small razor-sharp teeth. A person, standing in its location, shouldn’t have been able to see in. Light from the sodium streetlamps lit the window’s screen, obscuring the interior. It was no person. It could see me, and it was reacting to my presence. Its eyes grew huge, black.
My own eyes would have been just as wide if not for my own anatomical limitations. I was still watching when it disappeared. It didn’t see it move to the right. I didn’t see it move to the left, nor did I see it drop down out of view. It simply disappeared. One fraction of a second it was there, and then it decided to leave, and so it did. It was not a thing of this world.
There were no more disappearances after that poor woman from the university. I don’t think it had anything to do with me. The media and police all speculated their “serial killer” had gone into a “dormant phase”. There was no shortage of people who tried to take credit. Maybe they deserve it. The thing’s hunting had been on the decline. All the neighborhood watches and student patrols, I think that maybe all that commotion was making it too hard for the Hidebehind to go about its business. Maybe it had gone back to the woods.
Then again, maybe Ralph had been right the whole time. Maybe it really, really, really didn’t like to be seen.
So.
Now I’ve got some decisions to make. I think the first thing I should do is look at social media and dig up Ralph. It’s been a good thirty years since I last talked to him. He ought to know the Hidebehind is back. He’s probably made plans.
Then, there’s the issue of my son. He’s up in his bedroom now, probably still mad at me. Probably confused about why I’d be so strict. Maybe he’s inventing explanations as to why.
I’m not sure, but I’m leaning toward telling him everything. He deserves to know. It’d probably be safer if he knows. I think people have this instinct where, when they see or know something that they’re not supposed to know, they just bottle it up. I think that was the problem with grown-ups when I was a kid. It was the issue with my grandfather, telling me so little when it was almost too late. I think people do it because we’re social animals, and we’re afraid of being ostracized. Go along to get along.
Hell, my son is probably going to think I’m crazy. It might even make him more mad at me. And even more confused. He knows about the disappearances. “The Farmingham Fiend” the media would end up dubbing the serial killer that didn’t really exist. It’s become local “true crime” history. Kids tell rumors about it. It was almost forty years ago, so it probably feels safe to wonder about.
So yeah, I suppose when I say I know who the real killer was, a magical monster from the woods that stalks its prey by hiding behind objects, then impossibly disappears- that I’m going to look like a total nut. I’d think that if I were in his shoes.
Except… people are going to start disappearing again, it’s only a matter of time. The media will say that the Farmingham Fiend is back in the game. Will my son buy that? He’ll start thinking about what I told him, and how I predicted it. Then he’ll remember that he saw the thing himself, he and his friends, even if it was just out of the corner of his eye.
I hope, sooner or later, he’ll believe me. I could use his help. Maybe Ralph is way ahead of me, but I’m thinking we should get the Fight Patrol back together. Father and son, this time. Multigenerational, get the retirees involved too.
Old farts of my generation, for reasons I don’t understand, like to wax nostalgic over their own false sense of superiority. We rode our bikes without helmets and had distant if not irresponsible parents. Yeah, yeah, what a load. I think every new generation is better than the last, because every generation is a progression from the last, Kids these days? They’ve got cell phones, with cameras. And helmet cams. GoPros you can attach to bikes. Doorbell cameras.
It seems the Hidebehind loathes being seen. This time around, with my grandfather’s spirit, my own memories, and my boy’s energy? I think this time we’re finally going to beat it.

I think to get the full picture of my experience, you have to start at the beginning of my life.
I was born with pretty severe glaucoma, and would have been blind if not for emergency surgery when I was only three weeks old. The situation with my eyes was sort of like a hydra though, we resolved one condition, and three new conditions would pop up because many eye conditions lend to others. So needless to say, I was always in and out of ophthalmologists’ offices and was very used to being poked and prodded.
I’d swell with pride every time a nurse or doctor said something to the effect of “Wow, you’re doing so good! Most kids cry for XYZ!” Whether that be eyedrops, getting my pressures checked, etc. I knew these remarks were compliments to me, but also to my parents. Making my parents look good made me feel good too. So I’d always respond with some comment to the effect of “What, like it’s hard?” a la Elle Woods. I was hungry for validation from adults.
I was absolutely fascinated by medicine. I was always paying attention when the doctors were talking to my parents, learned about my own conditions as well as others I didn’t have, and I knew all major eye anatomy by age 10. There weren’t many 10-year-olds asking their doctor how their optic nerve looks.
It extended outside of ophthalmology too, I would always watch when I was getting shots, even though my mom told me not to. And when I broke my arm shortly after turning 7, I was so excited about the x-rays. I wanted to be a pediatric ophthalmologist from a young age, to help kids and parents in similar situations to mine.
I’m not sure exactly what age the UTIs started, all I know is that I was constantly on antibiotics to combat the latest infection. I’d get ultrasounds of my abdomen (I was also fascinated by those) and doctors would feel around externally, always with clothes on if my memory is correct. My records show that I had a VCUG at age 4, but I don’t remember it at all.
So at age 7, being told we were going to go to the hospital and have my stomach x-rayed, I was pumped. The testing was on a weekend, so my dad, mom, and older sister all came along.
I remember being in a great mood that day. What was there to be anxious about, right? It was the weekend, and I was going to see inside my stomach—that’s all fun stuff. My mom came in the room with me, and my dad and sister stayed out in the waiting area.
I remember my mom’s mood not matching mine. When they sent us into the adjoining bathroom with instructions for me to pee and change into a gown, my mom seemed anxious, maybe a little agitated. I was in a goofy mood though, not really deterred by hers.
We came out and I laid on the exam table, still in a good mood. That good mood was gone pretty quickly.
My understanding now is that my VUR was a fairly severe case, so it is likely that I had an active UTI while this was all done. Even just them cleaning me was painful. I remember the nurse who cleaned me looked at me incredulously and brushed it off when I told her that it hurt.
But things hit the fan when they started to catheterize me.
I was immediately in fight or flight (and I chose fight). Nurses struggled to hold my legs down and apart on the table. I was crying, kicking, and begging them to stop. They didn’t.
So I looked to my mom for help. Her expression wasn’t just disappointment, it was disgust. Disgust at my behavior, I realized. I was normally such a cooperative kid. She didn’t want to be seen as a permissive parent, and so expressing her disapproval of my behavior was necessary. She didn’t humor my distress, only exasperatingly telling me to get it over with so we could go home.
Once I realized my mom wasn’t going to help me, I remembered my dad and sister were out in the waiting room. If I scream loud enough, I thought to myself, they’ll hear me. And then they’ll barge into the room and demand that these people stop. They’ll help.
So I screamed. And screamed. No one came. No one stopped. And eventually I was tired out enough that they were able to catheterize me.
The VCUG confirmed that my VUR was operable. And so in the summer, about a week before I turned 8, I had the surgery.
Even though I knew I’d be under anesthesia for it, I was still terrified because I knew what they’d be doing while I was under was similar to what they did in the VCUG.
The morning of my surgery, I considered finding a hiding spot. My almost-8-year-old logic was that if we missed the surgery appointment, I wouldn’t have surgery at all. What kept me from actually trying that plan was knowing my parents would be furious with me. So I didn’t.
I had one more VCUG post-operation, probably to confirm the surgery worked. This time, I knew what was going to happen and I was extremely anxious.
The only thing that was different that time was that there was one, younger nurse with a modicum of empathy. She explained that when I was tense, my urethra was like a closed fist, showing how she couldn’t get a finger from her other hand through her fist. She loosened up the fist to show that relaxing would help me be more open and it wouldn’t hurt.
I nodded in understanding, but realistically I came from a family full of people with undiagnosed, untreated anxiety and absolutely no skills in emotional regulation. I didn’t know anything about deep breaths to relax. And I certainly didn’t have any kind of specialized knowledge in relaxing my pelvic floor muscles. They gave me a plastic straw and told me to breathe through it and focus on that. I remember cringing and thinking it was like having a catheter in my mouth too.
And so that VCUG ended up like the last one. Me fighting and crying and screaming, and none of the adults in the room considering that my distress might be justified.
No one ever told me that that was it. I was done. I wouldn’t ever need another VCUG. So I lived in perpetual fear that there’d be follow ups and my parents wouldn’t tell me in advance, just drive me to the hospital and spring it on me. Would I need to go back every year? Every 5 years? In 10 years? I had no idea, and I never asked. Because what if I did need follow ups, and my parents had just forgotten about scheduling them? I wouldn’t want to remind them.
When the next school year started that fall, I was different. Previously a social butterfly who easily made friends, I now was having a hard time finding a place I belonged.
I stumbled on trichotillomania to self-soothe, compulsively pulling out my eyebrows and eyelashes. Having light skin and very dark hair, thick eyebrows, and thick eyelashes (thanks, Southern European genes), any time I pulled a significant amount of hairs out, it was very noticeable, and I spent much of that school year with hardly any eyebrows and eyelashes. Looking like a freak didn’t really help in making friends, and it became a vicious circle. I pulled because I was anxious, was anxious because I didn’t have strong friendships, and didn’t have strong friends because I pulled.
I’ve overcome the eyebrow portion, but I still struggle with compulsive eyelash pulling to this day.
I was terrified of my own body. A lot of kids explore, even if only for the sake of cleaning themselves. But me? No. As soon as I was bathing unsupervised, I stopped cleaning between my legs. And when I’d use the bathroom, I’d wad up a thick cushion of toilet paper so that I wouldn’t be able to feel myself when I wiped.
The onset of puberty changed nothing. While girls my age were talking like graduating from pads to tampons was the only way to ascend to womanhood, I couldn’t bear the thought of sticking anything up there. Just thinking about even attempting to use a tampon made me sweaty. My 14th birthday party was a pool party, but I ended up getting my period the day before and couldn’t swim with my friends that day.
When I got my first period at age 13, I remember crying. I thought about how now, if I was raped, I could get pregnant. And I really did not want to get pregnant. I got my period at school, and on the walk to the nurse’s office to call my mom, I eyed every man and boy I passed suspiciously. I knew enough about pregnancy and childbirth to know it was something I never wanted to happen to me, because it meant 9 months of having strangers stick their hands and various medical devices inside my body, and ending with unimaginable pain.
The hilarious thing is that I never drew the connection between all of this and my VCUG experience. And I wouldn’t realize it for well over a decade.
I met the love of my life in college when I was 21. He was kind and compassionate, and pretty instantly we just seemed to be on the same page. He became my best friend.
I had finally discovered masturbation (albeit, external only and through layers) at age 19, but hadn’t ever tried penetrative sex. He was understanding of my anxiety around penetration, and we had fun doing things within my comfort zone for a while. Then, at age 24, after living with him for a few months, I had decided I was ready to try and got on birth control.
Every attempt was unsuccessful. It was like I was a brick wall down there, and I always called it off. Different positions, different lubes, lots of lube, ridiculous amounts of lube, lights on, lights off, spending the whole day getting horny in advance of trying—we tried basically everything except alcohol. Alcohol was my mom’s suggestion when I asked her if I had any medical issues she knew about that would interfere with intimacy (I was thinking maybe I was intersex or something of that sort). A glass or two of wine to relax, just for the first time so I can get it over with, she said. I thought that sounded like a great way to become dependent on alcohol and said no thanks.
So I looked into sex therapy, found someone I liked, and filled out her preliminary paperwork. One of the questions asked about medical history, especially that which involved genitalia. So I looked up the name of my condition, VUR, and mentioned the VCUGs without really thinking about it. After all, that involved my urethra, not my vagina. It couldn’t possibly be related to the vaginismus I was struggling with.
She asked about it in our initial sessions going over history. And we quickly confirmed it was very much related. That led me to do more research, which led me to Reddit forums! I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety and PTSD.
I learned that no, I wasn’t being dramatic about the pain I was in. The time I spent since gaslighting myself, saying I was probably just overreacting… it doesn’t add up given the facts and the context of my medical history. All of the adults in the room both times failed me. Unfortunately, this procedure is still performed to this day, on tens of thousands of children each year.
I feel a lot of guilt. I’ve spent many sleepless nights crying for all of the kids who have been traumatized in the 20 years since this happened to me, thinking that I should be doing more, speaking up, writing letters. I’m still trying to figure out my place in all this. I feel like I may not be able to “heal” or “move on” while this is still happening daily.
I’m now 27 and still working on learning the body I’ve spent at least two decades tuned out of. Therapy has been great, but progress is slow—there is much to unpack and work on. I’ll be trying EMDR in the next month or so. My partner, now my husband, has been supportive and patient along the way, and I am so grateful for him.
With the clarity I have now, I know that I’m most uncomfortable lying on my back. Even for things like going to see my esthetician for facials and brow waxing, I can’t fully relax on my back. Additionally, the thought of any kind of medical penetration makes me ridiculously anxious. Initial COVID testing methods where they swabbed deep into the nose were something I avoided like the plague itself. I jumped on the rapid self-tests that didn’t require you to swab as deep. I also want to see an ENT for allergy and breathing issues, but am terrified that they’ll want to stick something up my nose or down my throat. I also have not seen a gynecologist—getting a pap smear is completely off the table if I can’t even be penetrated by someone I trust. Isn't it ironic how I’ve changed from wanting to be a doctor, to now being terrified of them?
It does feel eerily poetic though, that I had no say over what happened to my body on that exam table then, and even though I’m now in the pilot seat, I still don’t have a conscious say over my body. My body remembers being violated, and it’s been on high alert ever since, ignoring my conscious brain. Still working on finding my peace.

I did not know it would take me 3 days to write 3-4 pages. It was time to shed the skin of uncertainty, and embrace depth of field, and 3 dimensional characters, and sense of professionalism. Enough time was wasted in uncertainty and procrastination.:
Title: The Third Eye' s Vision Author: Das, Krishna Chandra
Section 1 done on may 19 of 2023
Section 1 of Chapter 1:"Birthright's Mantle, Outcast's Shackles: The Opus of Nirvaaṇa"
Section 1 of Chapter 1:"Birthright's Mantle, Outcast's Shackles: The Opus of Nirvaaṇa"
(Beginning of Page 1)
(Character monologue)
Credits. Credits. Credits. The almighty and powerful Credits... The all-powerful Universal Credits: for a share of which we are willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. With unwavering dedication, I assume a tranquil meditation pose, directing my thoughts towards the inner realms, where my focused mind connects with the ethereal vision of my third eye. Through this heightened state of awareness, I have clandestinely observed and meticulously absorbed the whispered conversations and subtle nuances of numerous gatherings on various occasions within this mothership.
Some humanoids had invested their life savings in renting a ship to join a fleet and gain access to strategic extraction sites. Those less fortunate purchased a share of a ship with ten other crewmates, agreeing to receive a percentage of the profits. Speaking of shares, the mothership claimed a 40 percent cut from each fleet, providing flawless protection, efficient travel time, and unlimited food from its internally built vivarium. All in exchange for a share of the Universal Credits, the currency that governs our worlds.
I could write endless pages defining the term universal-credits. However, there was a time when I despised such material attachments. I was content in my dim and dreary cave. Over time, though, desperation grew from poverty, intimidation, and sorrow. Perhaps now, materialism has seeped into my/our minds, intertwining with our breath and life force. Given the current risky conditions of deep space, we are willing to risk our lives for a taste of the almighty Universal Credits.
As I delve deeper into thought experiments of risks and rewards, my mind becomes flooded with unwanted negative thoughts. Horrific news and rumors dominate my consciousness. Amongst many, one piece of news is particularly disturbing and recent. Despite deep meditations, I cannot pinpoint the source of this dark presence even with my third eye. Perhaps it is a synthetic species or an unknown race echoing the sirens of death, destruction, and doom. These rumors always make me sick. Recently, there has been an abundance of them. On the day of our great embarkment, a tip circulated claiming that an unknown source emitted a red flare, simultaneously annihilating five motherships with one single slash. Allegedly, this powerful flare not only disintegrates objects it touches but reduces them to nothingness by a rapid continual process of subatomic level evaporation.
The Vidyadhaaras, the fortunate ones, have been sanctioned by all other humanoids. In return, they have responded with an iron curtain, promising annihilation or enslavement to any species that ventures into their space. I am no expert on ethics, but one thing is certain: the Vidyadhaaras race are exceptionally fortunate. Some possess an extra third hand and naturally gemstones studded body at birth, and most are born with unlimited credit encoded in their DNA, in the form of a wish-fulfilling stone.
The dark blue-skinned manus of Shha-taM.Bha-gyaṃ display cunning charisma in these high-risk, high-reward expeditions. Yesterday, one boisterous, sapphire-backed individual, fueled by intoxicating beverages, rambled on about the statistical probabilities. In his mind, there was a red line in the depths of space, where the chances of falling into flare of nothingness stood at 60 percent. Yet, he believed the rewards outweighed the risks.
Section 2: Chapter 1:"Birthright's Mantle, Outcast's Shackles: The Opus of Nirvaaṇa"
MAY 25, 2023
(Beginning of Section 2)
The perplexed humanoid novices were both pitiful and at times detestable. I often paid little attention to their groups, always distancing myself from them, I even practiced precise isolation from stepping into the very shadows they cast, as they aimlessly scurried around the mothership, displaying a blatant state of confusion. Despite the well-lit corridors, hallways, and communal areas, they seemed utterly clueless about their next destination. With their invisible novice insignia proudly worn, they unwittingly attracted one another, creating an amusing spectacle of automated alliances, like molecular compounds.
Unfortunately, a significant portion of these individuals would never have the opportunity to find out the hidden areas and witness the marvels of the state-of-the-art artificial biomes, a place perfectly suited to shield one's gaze from their juvenile countenances. Sadly, for most of them, a grim fate awaited. I can’t protect everyone; I can’t protect each individual. It is a sad fact.
(End of character's monologue)
The dark-skinned Rudra eventually ended his inner monologue in mumbling with a long sigh. At last, he slowly opened his eyes to transition respectfully from sacred meditation to reality, moving cautiously from his meditative state to reality state. In fact, it was a sign of respect to his meditation, his life long practice. By employing simple breathing techniques, which included deep inhalation, holding the breath until reaching an uncomfortable limit, and exhaling deeply. Therefore, he repeatedly practiced the same sequence that awakened his mastery of meditation, from his very young age.
The Rudra then drank from his golden water flask, only after clearing his throat by gurgling five times once, in his customary manner. Then, he uttered the syllable 'svaa-dhaa' and dropped a portion of water on the ground as a mark of respect to his forefathers. He often mumbled similarly, whenever he entered a partial meditative state during eavesdropping; and other universal exploration through his ethereal visions, with the aid of his third eye. When he remained silent during meditation, it simply meant he was deeply immersed in self-exploration during his profound meditative state. In between deep and partial meditation, he only uttered varied two sacred syllables that held deep meaning in his culture, the Rudrakind culture.
The dark-skinned Rudra was dressed in a loincloth, decided to plunge into the artificial lake of the artificial lust rainforest biome. The rainforest biome extended enough to create horizon between artificial lights and ceiling. The intense hot and humid climate was perfectly soothing for his race. The Rudra felt rejuvenated to maximum. It was covered with towering trees, lush vegetation, and a rich diversity of plant and animal species. It receives ample rainfall, creating a humid and moist environment that supports the growth of limited species. Within this captivating biome, the intricate web of life thrives in a symphony of colors, sounds, and interconnected relationships. Furthermore, it was the source of vivarium, which caused abundance of food for the mass mothership dwellers.
The Rudra submerged his body in the crystal-clear water while observing the gathering of Quaziriths in the distance, near the lush formation of natural juice producing flowers and plants. As he massaged his muscular body, he displayed a wide and medium physique, attractive and handsome, with dreadlocked hair on the reflection of clear water. Occasionally, he touched his forehead and adjusted his red hairband to cool off his forehead. Although he detested wearing the headband, it was for his own security, to conceal his racial identity. He continued to observe the gathering of two-legged birds called the Quaziriths, which had beautiful golden feathers and were devoid of eyes. They surveyed their surroundings with the aid of their flapping wings through their ethereal and sonar perceptions. Furthermore, their flapping wings creating an eye-pleasing luminescent display even more gracefully in sunlight. With their long tongues, they sucked nectar from flowers and juices flowing from fallen fruits scattered on the ground, it was their daily routine. At one point, some of them began to quarrel, which made the Rudra chuckle with a strong negative sigh.
The quarrels of Quaziriths reminded him of his own Rudrakind, evoking a sense of envy toward the Quaziriths, that led to another deep, humming sigh withdrawn from him. In contrast, here Quaziriths were welcomed with open arms, yet his Rudrakind were not. He did not belong here legally.
As Rudra, 37 years old, expert at pondering, delved deep into his mind, he remembered his home planet name Ugra-loka, which was breathtaking from sunset until dawn. During the scorching afternoons, they sought shelter in their caves as the intense heat and contrast made them angry and uncontrollable in environments outside of caves. The Rudrakind were naturally born with a blissful and destructive "third eye" and practiced asceticism throughout their lives. They were content with small portions of food, as they practiced always controlling their senses. The mastery of the third demanded outmost priority. The children who did not obey such rules were outcasted in extremely remote places. In the event that they may cause extreme destructions. The fact is, only fraction of their children opened their third eye, prematurely before the age of sixteen.
The Rudrakind resided in cool caves that provided access to crystal-clear water, pouring out from complex inner spring systems. During the intense heat of the season, they ventured into more intricate underground cave levels, which even extended twenty levels downward, it had been built by their ancestors throughout many generations. Beyond the twenty level, there were only impenetrable rocks.
The Rudrakind practiced agriculture in open fields and sunbeam caves, where perfect sunlight seeped through cracks, creating a beautiful environment. The sunbeam caves where they also kept their pure red glowing cattle. The Rudras were non carnivorous. Therefore, they did not eat their cattle. In defiance some new generation of clans practiced carnivorism due to scarcity of foods, which justified their actions. The pure followers could go on for days with just drinking water.
The sunbeam caves held the utmost sanctity for the Rudrakind as they represented extraordinary and otherworldly environments. According to ancient beliefs, the sunbeam caves were shaped by the divine gaze of their almighty creator. The open sky within these caves symbolized the escape of sacred smoke from lit altars. Childrens and females drew sacred two-word syllables around the contour of sunbeam with chalks on the ground. At these altars, they would offer portions of their edible resources or sometimes non-edible valuable possessions as a tribute to their almighty creator and forefathers. Surprisingly, they could not recall the name of their creator, nor did they possess the knowledge of the sacred collections of their cherished short syllables, all of which were communicated in pairs of two syllables. Certain ancient declarations asserted with certainty that the combination of these unknown short syllables constituted the names of their long-forgotten god.
Over time, as indifference grew among the hierarchies within the Rudrakind, divisions between clans, and the destructive acts of superpowers flaunting their superiority, the values of their ancient culture were eroded, leading to mass extinctions of their race. Even today, some Rudras continue to engage in internal conflicts, driven by a lingering thirst for vengeance fueled by an unforgivable past. Therefore, it was too easy to forgive the past and shake hands through diplomacy. Consequently, it is disturbing to witness recently how few resorted to primitive weapons such as stones and pickaxes, equipped with handles made of strong superdense alloy, forged from the heat of their very third eye’s beam with great precision. However, they refrained from employing their beam of dissolution to crisp one another. The use of such power against their own kind was considered a highly demeaning act, resulting in complete disownment by all Rudrakind clans.
Amidst these ongoing events in Ugraloka, the Rudra in ritualistic bathing process, noticed a male and female Quazirith gracefully separating themselves from the flock, away from the quarrel. The male possessed a vibrant green emerald beak, while the female exhibited a naturally formed rose quartz stone. The pirates, often driven by their insatiable desires, extracted these rose quartz stones and sold them at exorbitant prices on the shadow market, only after indulging in the savoring consumption of Quazirith meat. However, none dared to abduct female Rudras, who possessed the power to reduce their enemies to ashes with their fiery abilities.
The Rudra continued with his ritualistic bathing process, all the while observing the Quazirith couple. Memories of his fiancée, Astrondra, flooded his mind, and he whispered her name, his voice choked with longing and accompanied by frequent pauses. Astrondra possessed remarkable control over her soft voice, complemented by a well-developed physique and an array of facial and hand expressions, her true complexion reminiscent of a chocolate cherry cat's eye. The Rudra yearned to protect her and whisk her away from the planet Ugraloka, despite the circumstances that labeled him, his Rudrakind, and the Vidyadhaaras as dangerous; they were ordered to remain within their own respective system. In fact, their mere presence instilled fear in other humanoid species, leaving none feeling secure.
In contrast, the Vidyadhaaras enjoyed access to numerous habitable planets teeming with taiga and rainforest biomes. Moreover, aided by infinite reserves of Quantumite, they effortlessly traversed their system with remarkable ease. Not to mention their wish-fulfilling stones, inherent to their very being. In fact, these stones granted them the power to manipulate any physical environment, traverse realms, and create inorganic objects at will—without even requiring Quantumite. However, they chose to refrain from extensively utilizing their all-powerful birthright stones, as such usage shortened their overall lifespan. However, this Vidyadhaaras being wouldn’t shelter his kind nor his beloved.
The most peaceful and beautiful beings with blue-posterior skin from the planet Shha-taM!' Bha-gyaṃ stood as the only reliable refuge for the Rudrakind; only if any race could prove their F'aay-doma to their supreme leader, the Manukind will welcome them with open arms. He envisioned a prosperous future for his fiancée Astrondra in that mentioned planet and his yet to be born progeny, with the assistance of his humanoid friends possessing lapis lazuli posterior- who were known as the main founder of shadow market.
At the age of 37, this Rudra had traversed a remarkable journey, eventually finding his place aboard this mothership, his spaceship is one of the hundred vessels comprising the Shha-taM!' Bha-gyaṃ fleet. His banner proudly displayed the perfectly aligned seven moons of Shha-taM!' Bha-gyaṃ, further solidifying his influence. As he had proved his F'aay-doma to these humanoid inhabitants, none among the Manukind would ever dare to unveil his racial identity. He had become the captain of his own spaceship, which was a testament to his accomplishments and the acceptance he had gained through his F'aay-doma achievement.
(End of Section 2)
... to be continue…
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Sci-fi #sciencefiction #write #fantasy #coolstories #amazingstories #novel southasianindiannovel #vedic #sanskrit #meditation #lien #alien races #ufo #mothership #anotherplanet #anothealaxy, #fan #fans #sciencefictionfantasy #scififantasy

I made a character and this sotry for star wars (i made this story for my English finals, i had a month to make it and got an A on it), the characters name is Saya Eban and is a character I have been thinking of for over a decade now (im not in my 2nd decade so since i was super young). Saya at this time is 13-14 years old and was given inspiration by almost all the other jedi and also star killer. He is human and with reliance on the force he can live up to 1000 years with hi peak being between 35, 40 ish to around 800 years of age. In terms of prime power level and potential, in my canon he is 3rd most powerful character just underneath luke and anikan Skywalkers, but could contend with them at some points. Little background: he was a prodigy in school before he became a padawan, he always had an intrest in a character named Ahsoka Tano but never became more than friends because of the Jedi teachings. He was a fast learning youngling and became a padawan earlier than most other younglings, becaming a padawan at the age of 11 - 12. He was in the first battle of Genesis but his troop transport ship was blasted out of the air, landing behind enemy lines leaving him the sole surviver, and scarring him, making him want to never see uneeded bloodshed ever again. He met Count Dooku before he had met Obi-Wan and Anikan on geonosis, he locked blades with him once... once, before he was thrown aside like a house fly, not worth his time, he was out until the retreat of the battle was initiated. This gave him night terrors and nightmares, after this day he could never sleep more than an hour, if that, before he woke up feeling the dark side creeping in. So he had learned to use sleep meditation. Sleep meditation allowed him to accelerate his trainings and connect greater to the force, he had unlocked 1/3 of his life now, the force helping his cells heal his body while he sat and meditated.
This story is of how he lived through one of the bloodiest battles and worst losses of the Republic, the battle of Sarrish, and of how he had obtained his later main star ship, a Kom'rk Mark 1 class star fightetransport, aka the Puro (i made this story before I have watched the 3rd season of the Mandalorian, as of right now i still haven't so Idk if thats in season 3 or not).
There is about 11,340 words in the story, and I don't 100% know of what I should make him look like so have your imaginations run wild.
Ok here we go:
Tales of Saya Eban's Puro
Chapter 1

 The battle of Sarrish was one of the worst battles of the Clone Wars, it was a great devastating loss to the Republic and the Jedi, and I was in the middle of it all. Before the battle I was doing some touch-ups on my A-wing Fighter. I had managed to get my hands on a hyperdrive that would fit in my small fighter, although being able to enter hyperspace without an external hyperdrive wing is very convenient, fast, and easy, it does slow my fighter and hinder some mobility, but not an uncontrollable amount of loss. Little did I know it'd save my life later that week. After I had finished my work, gotten it restocked for my next battle, I was called to the Jedi command center for a briefing by Master Yoda, saying it was an urgent mission and I was needed now, with his backwards way of speaking annoying me slightly. In a flash, I had gathered my battle ready loadout and headed off to the command center. When I entered the command center with the center planning table showing starships from both Confederate and Republic sides, One chasing another. I look and see Masters Yoda and Windu and a holoprojected Obi-Wan Kenobi surrounding the Table, with deeply serious thoughts in their eyes, fingers on their concentrating chins. When I swiftly strolled in, I was greeted with Master Windu's cheerful, but serious voice: "Ah, Padawan Eban, good you're here, come quick, we must act with persistence if we want to gain an upper hand in this war." "Master Windu, good to see you, you too Master Yoda, Master Kenobi, what's the situation?" Master Obi-Wan states, "We are currently chasing Separatist forces to the planet Sarrish and we will need some back up, could you bring your part of the 104th battalion right away, we have heavy casualties and they're going to have reinforcements when they reach the planet." "Is there not anyone closer than me, it may take a few days for me to get there, yall mabe finished by the time I get there!" I said with hope in my eyes. "I'm afraid that you're the only one that is available with the most minimal time of arrival, you'll have to be quick though, it will be anytime now they will reach the planet and have reinforcements. we need this win, it will be a great victory for the Republic if we are able to capture the planet." Stated Obi-Wan with certainty. "All other generals are on missions right as we speak, you are the only one that can provide back up at this current time." Master Windu added "Closer to Knight after this mission you will be, great padawan you are, your great swift improvements, Master Plo is pleased with, believe in you I do." Master Yoda said with a jolly old-man voice. "Now go, there's not much time to waste, gather your men and go help Obi-Wan!" Rushedly said by Master Windu. "With determination in my voice, I yell "Yes Masters, right away!" And like a flash, I was gone. As I'm running off, I catch a glimpse of a green swoosh and the sound of a bolt deflection. I stumble to a stop and put my legs in reverse to give curiosity the wheel. When I peer in, I see Master Skywalker and Ahsoka, along with roughly 8 clone troopers all in a circle around Ahsoka and her one blade ignited. Master Skywalker had her eyes welded to her as he walked around the trooper. I could see Captain Rex standing and watching as well, although he seems to be the only one who spotted me poking in my head. He motioned his finger to his lips as to tell me to shush and not interfere, so I watched with anticipation. And after a lifetime stillness ending in a second after Master Skywalker yelled "START!" And stun doughnuts fire from the blasters of the troopers, sending a volley of blue twords Ahsoka from all directions. With great flexibility I pair with, she jumps into the air, spinning like skates on a skate rink in mid air deflecting all incoming plasmic projectiles landing with swift grace ready for more, And more came, she stands in the center blade moving almost faster than what my eyes could keep up with, until that one bolt punches her right in the back, knocking her to the ground, diminishing the blade back into the hilt. I spring into the room, speaking with worry in my voice when I squeak out "Ahsoka! Master Skywalker, what was that!?" 

"She was just training deflecting blaster fire, she's going to be outmatched a lot in this war, and clones are better than droids to practice with." Anakin said with pride that she was able to last little over a minute, thats improvement.
"Well I guess you're not completely wrong, but your going to give her a brain injury at this rate! Could you not go a bit easier on her?"
"She'll never learn if I go easy on her." Master Skywalker said with little arrogance in his voice.
"W- well, here, l-let me wake her then." I stuttered as I walked up to Rex holding Ahsoka like he's a pillow.
"Rex, do you mind if I-"
"Not at all General, here." Rex said as I sat next to him holding Ahsoka's top half of her body.

 As he caringly sets Ahsoka's rhythmically beating top half in my lap, head facing the heavens, I softly lay my hand over her forehead, close my eyes, and concentrate. A few suspenseful seconds later, I take my hand off and observe Ahsoka's hand softly glide to her now curling forehead, eyes fluttering open. 

With a smile I voiced"Wakey Wakey warrior princess, have a good nap?" Smirking the whole time.
"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes Nicksters." She groaned with fading pain.
"What are you doing here?" She leisurely grumbled as she started to lie propped up by her desirable, fluorescent orange arms made of flexible muscle.
"I was walking by, and saw a 'damsel in distress', I HAD to come and 'save the day'." I joked, smirking the whole time, annoying her little bit more.
"You know I have been dying to use my force heal on you since I had learned it. I bet you don't even feel bad at all right now hm?" I said leaning in
Ahsoka starts to stand as to get a feel for her own body.
"You're right, I feel better than I did before, not bad for someone named Nicks." Ahsoka said smirking right back at me.
"Oh come on, that was one time, that was even before we became patiwans!" I said with little dramatics in my vocal verberations.
"Ok Master, I'm ready to try again." Ahsoka said to Master Skywalker
"Not now Ahsoka, we have a mission from the Jedi council we have to attend to while Obi-Wan is on his own mission." Anikan said to Ahsoka, elongating his 'not' like he usually does
"I'm actually about to go give help to Obi-Wan right now… WHICH I NEED TO GET PREPARED FOR NOW!! Karabast, got to go! See yah Ahsoka, Master, Rex." And like a ship entering hyperspace, I was gone.
Chapter 2

 After 2 boring days traveling in hyperspace, me and my 5 Veneter class Cruisers are nearing our destination, this would make 12 Cruisers for the Republic side. A new commander CT'-4112 or Zerek, debriefs on the battle situation. As I had sensed, Obi-Wan was outmatched seeing as backup was on planet Sarrish for the fleeing Separatist ships, now it's 11 Munificent class Cruisers and 2 command stations blockading the planet. Kenobi was starting to be pushed back, relying on our Cruisers longer ranged cannons to hope the Sepies didn't get too close. Our Cruisers have longer ranged main canons and toms of fighter room, while the Sepies Cruisers have more fire power at closer ranges with more fighters than our Vendor class Cruisers, at closer ranges, the Sepies would completely destroy a Venetor class Cruiser, but we have strategies and will power. 

"Glad to see a friendly face Saya." Kenobi said exhaustingly.
"Well, it looked like you needed help. You know I need to be the one to save everyone. I'll move into position to fortify our defenses to push the Sepies back and for us to make a plan. What is your fleet's condition?"
"We have 2 Venetors heavily damaged and the rest either have mild to no damage. And we have lost half our fighters as of now." Urgently said by Kenobi.
"Ok, I'm sending men and supplies to you right now, let me take the front so I can take the damage if they send another attack." I calmly said to Kenobi.
"Men battle positions and set all power to front cannons and shields. Venators get into pincer position and get ready for an attack. Fighters get ready to launch." I commanded to all my Cruisers
"Master, if you could, could you add in your undamaged Venetors? " I wandered and directed with much mastery, I even made Obi-Wan himself visually impressed considering my inexperienced mind in life, and especially war. I even managed to make him smile.
"Getting in position now." Obi-Wan stated, still smiling.
"Understood, While you get everything fixed, I'll see if I can weaken their defenses, it seems as if they're in attack positions so we gotta be ready for anything." I said in deep thought.
"Ok, 10 to 13, I like those odds, makes it even, more so for the Sepies." I grinned.
"Now Saya, remember this is still a battle, don't be too cocky, you're starting to remind me of Anakin." Obi-Wan said with conviction.
"Yes Master, sorry about that." I answered to Obi-Wan, pulling back a little.

 Just then, many starfighters come from the enemy Cruisers, hundreds of them lightning fast, closing distance fast. 

"All right men, time for some fun. Obi-Wan, if you want to take command of my control center, I'll lead this fight." I said before Obi-Wan could respond.
"Ok- but Saya! Blast, maybe he's too much like Anikan." Obi-Wan said defeatedly.
As I get into the hangar I yell "Alright Wolfpack, let's get goin!" Then I hop into my modified Jedi A-wing.
We rush out from the center roof door along the Cruiser with my squadron aka The Wolfpack, with me leading my 23 fighters into battle and many more friendly's following from the hangars.
"Ok Wolfpack, let's make a break for them Cruisers, get as many of them gone as possible. 411 you ready?" I asked R2-411. R2-411 bleeps with readiness.
"Ok, time to blow them out of the sky, remember, stay in formation" I commanded.
"Yes sir!" The Clones bellowed.

 Then we hit the swarm with a mighty thundering sound of lasers flying through the emptiness of space seeing one after one of enemy fighter droids dropping all over the place. Me and my Wolfpack fly through all the 2 winged Vulture droids that look like each wing was sideways and has 2 prongs each side for wings. They were way more quick and maneuverable than us, but we had a duty to win, and we won't lose today. It's like a firework show, but you're dodging all the fireworks, and they're aiming right at you. While we are defending the Venator Cruisers, they're mostly firing at the Sepies Cruisers, slowly dwindling their energy shields down. 

"Boys, I have a plan, but I'll need yall to get back to the Cruisers." I urged
"Obi-Wan, how's the 2 heavily damaged Cruisers? We've been out for a long while. They should be good by now right?" I questioned Master Kenobi.
"They're about to come back into the fight, but one of our Cruisers is at a quarter shield, few good hits or bombing runs and it's gone, what's your plan Saya?" Obi-Wan said, perplexed.
"Just give me an opening to the left Separatist control center, that's all I need to get on that ship." I stated with confidence.
"I'll try my best, but don't be stupid Saya, we can't afford to lose you."
"Yeah yeah I know, just get me an opening please Master!" I begged.

 After the words fleeted from my mouth, all the Cruisers fired a hole through the droid fleet with friendly fighters also making way for me to get through. I blast the afterburners straight through the enemy swarm that's been lesson by the commotion, just barely being hidden by smoke from a just destroyed fighter straight into the leftmost control ship hanger landing with an explosive entry. And immediately I jump out, igniting both, my straight emerald green saber in my left, and my yellow saber with a curved hilt similar to the Count's hilt himself in my right. I'll face him again one day, it's inevitable, like me. I land and immediately cut a group of B1 battle droids heads off with my yellow saber facing out, giving me more reach, but as I start to take fire from the army that quickly form from my landing, I swiftly doge left to right almost able to doge the sight of a human eye. Left, pop goes the heads of 3, right, pop goes 5, jump through the air on an almost straight path through the thick of the army, spinning with a light show if one were to be an onlooker at this chaotic organization of flying red plasmic bolts going to a mix of yellow and green, then proceeding to fly straight back at the shooter with twice the velocity. I land on my feet with a thunderous "BOOM" with what seems like an explosion that incinerates half of the whole hanger with an electric yellow glow seeming like yellow lighting exploded from the epicenter of the explosion. When the smoke cleared, it seemed that everything within a 5 meter radius was completely incinerated, and everything within 40 meter radius was heavily damaged, and any technology within eye shot was either scrape or short-circuiting, but all B1 battle droids and super battle droids were out. 

I sighed with relief with little heavy breathing when I looked around me, but with no time to rest, 6 Vulture droid fighters came through the hanger's magnetic shield door, transforming to walk on its pronged wings like they were legs. They scanned me and started raining a flurry of red down onto me, but with my lightning fast reflexes, I raised my sabers to block the incoming hellfire from all six fighter's. Then came the flurry being deflected in any direction possible, and I could just barely see the 6 droids started to surround me by going behind my back, but I ain't done yet. As I'm blocking, jumping, spinning, twisting on a micrometer, I stomp with a mighty force, launching through the air, slowly spinning straight for a Vulture that has became the prey. Bolts whizzing by me, inches, centimeters near my skin, singeing my arm hairs to their roots. I land on top of the droid with a thunderous boom crunching where my foot had landed, driving my sabers straight through the brain of the story high droid, with a counterclockwise rotation around my back, dragging my sabers across the metal of the droid, I leap off the droid landing with the feathers and fly forward with a flashing dash slicing through 2 other droids legs, leaving gravity do its magical job. 3 down, 3 to go, but with little time left. I launch forward running on hairs dipping and dodging blots, I leap up slicing through one leg of a droid and pushing off of its gravity taken hull, coming down on another droid's leg, cutting with ease. I land like a leaf in the autumn skies, and launch with a swift leap, flying my yellow saber straight down the middle of the 6th and final droid with no time to spare.

 I land with caution, ready to fend off another foe, but none came at that second, so I took the opportunity and ran with it straight to where the main reactors should lie. I swiftly sprint with force leaps through the air to get to the reactor, the ship is 270th of a circle with a ball where the command center is, the middle is the only connected between the back of the ball and the inner back of the circle, that's where the reactor is, im at the left most side, may take me a minute to reach it, but I can get there without being seen. My plan was to quickly fix and rewrite a Vulture droid's code to go with my command, not going to be the best work but it will work, hopefully. I had to act fast because I knew there were going to be hundreds more droids to come to see the commotion, I'd say within the minute. The codes used on the droids are not the best, because of mass production, so It was an easy fix, I just needed it to fly a small bit. It comes back to life with a putt to its movement, I directed it to start flying while I'm on its back, putting the whole time with smoke, just what I needed. I start to move forward as fast as possible. As we get around the hundreds of battle droids below, I'm starting to speed up, and as I see the reactor room, I could hear B1's yell " HEY! STOP! YOUR GOING TO FAST" in their robotic voice. Before I hit the Shield covering the reactor room, I jump off to the left where the blast door is for the room. With the distraction of the droid smashing into the shield, I use this time to slowly cut through the blast doors with both sabers starting at the bottom of the door, going up and around to form a circle I can fit through. I was through within a Minute, unnoticed, or so I was led to believe. When I get into the reactor room, I throw explosives all over the reactors, with a detonation in T minus 1 minute. I fly out of the room, calling for 411 to bring my ship as fast as possible, 55. Running across the hanger, I'm spotted by the hundreds of battle droids, which immediately start firing right as they see me 50. The explosion of the fighter droid caused a chain to nearby explosive barrels, exploding more Vulture droids causing tons of smoke and fires to spread around the hangar area, 45. As I'm running, my yellow saber is blocking multiple bolts flying at me while I'm jumping, spinning, performing acrobatic movements while being shot by hundreds of droids, from B1's, to super's, to droideka's, all firing at me, adding to the smoke, 35. Running with young blood in my veins, I perform 1, 2, 3 long jumps and leap onto the side of a slanted destroyed Vulture droid, 30. I jump up, reaching for the cloudy sky just as 411 swoops in predictively shoving my hand into the side of the sharp A-wing hull, 25. I grab the side of the hull and pull myself up into the cockpit, grabbing the controls, 20. I spin to the exit with roughly 67° of the hanger I need to shoot out of, I fire the afterburners using the circumference of the circle and my fighters movment to my advantage, 15. Pushing forward, I am drifting an A-wing around the hangar of a Separatist capital ship skimming the walls centimeters away from an explosive fiery death, 10. I barely screamed out of the hanger, to be able to see a view of the capital ship flying stright for the other Sepie capital ship, 5. Im still firing the afterburners to try and attempt to get a safe distance away from the soon to be collision sight, 4. I let 411 take the control's, 3. I turn my head to look back, 2. I see the collision of the 2 270° hangers, 1. I watch as i get the view of a star being formed right infront of my eyes, and seeing many Sepie Cruisers being absolutely engulfed by the flames, and a blast wave decimating the Vulture droids… blast wave…. BLAST WAVE! Just then I'm thrown far, along with the debri. I manged to gain control of the craft and start performing advanced monuvers to avoid being hit by debrie that will demolishe me and my tiny fighter. 

"Saya, can you hear me? Saya?" Master Obi-Wan Kenobi pleaded.
"Yeah, yeah master, I'm good, I'm fine. Woo…!" I said with a sigh of relief.
Chapter 3

 The explosion had decimated the Separatist forces leaving 4 Cruisers sustaining heavy or mild damages, but with an opening, Obi-Wan and I travel to the ground along with Captain Cody to go for a large ground assault. Master Obi-Wan's plan was to drop in and gather our troops and split them between Obi-Wan and commander Cody. We were west, they were east. The Separatists had the high ground seeing as they had a cliff to their advantage. Flying in on gunships, we were taking heavy fire from their anti aircraft cannons. Commander Cody and I are debriefing the squad on the way to the rally point, seeing gunships after gunship falling to the rocky ground in a fiery explosive ball of red hot metal, and screams, with no plants in sight, just rocks, gunships, and red streaks flying by. Explosions booming right next to us with our doors right open. We have been ordered and ordering troops to stay far away from the mountain top gun fortifying the mountain top of the cliff, leaving that gun for the gunships and the best of the clone troopers, or ARC (Advanced Recon Commandos) troopers to deal with that later, seeing as a ground assault is too dangerous for us. As some of the clones have said, it's not an easy mission, but hops are high. 

"30 seconds until landing." A clone trooper yelled to me and Cody.
Cody starts with "All right, listen up! Maintain squad formations, 'A' squad, You're on me-" ZZZZZEEEROW- BOOOM!
"Where hit!" I yell "Everyone! Hold on!"
Before we hit the ground I leap out of the gunship with a backwards somersault, force pulling all the troops out of the burning fireball heading for the ground, grabbing all of the men, including the 2 pilots at the front, breaking through the windows. I land like rain from the sky, catching the troops I just pulled out with my powers and have them roughly land on the fluffy rocks next to our now downed gunship, no casualties yet. I rush over to take cover under our gunship on its left side behind enemy lines. I sit and meditate as they come up with a plan.
"What's the status lieutenant?" Cody asked
"5 injured thanks to General Saya, but that's not that bad news… Does that Rock look familiar?" The lieutenant asked.
"Yea, the mountain, right where we're not supposed to be." Said Cody
"General Kenobi ordered us not to try taking this section from the ground." The lieutenant regenerated back again with what was already established.
"That's what he said…but what would the general do if he were here?" Cody rhetorically asked.
"Saya sir, what do you think?" A trooper asked me somewhat desperately.
"I think Cody should take this one, I've got your back Cody." I answered with my legs crossed, eyes closed, slightly levitating over the rocks.
"Eight-Eight-Six-Seven through Eight-Eight-Six-Nine and Saya, fix your grapples and come with me. Everybody, prepare for covering fire." Cody ordered.
I get up, eyes still shut, ready to block anything coming our way.
"NOW!" Cody yells, sprinting across what is our no-man's-land
I open my eyes, ignite my Sabers, Green in left, yellow in right, and dash towards the now incoming blaster fire. I sense it, left side, block, right side, deflect, one for Cody, deflected. We get to some stalagmites at the bottom of the mountain, sustaining heavy fire, I pose as a distraction for all the fire, deflecting as many blots as I can back at the metal men. One troop trips and falls, pow, bolt straight through the head. Cody and the men shoot the grappling hooks up towards the top of the mountain and start climbing. I jump from my spot reigniting my sabers, driving them through the mountain side, helping me grab hold with my feet. And when I look up, I see a grapple fall behind me. I tried to grab the rope but I was too late. When I managed to obtain it, he had already hit the ground. Another tragedy, one that never had to happen, life being wasted away. I look up, a droid stairs emotionlessly down into my emotion filled eyes. A blue bolt shoots past me, impacting the droid's head, sending the body backwards.
Cody and the other clone rises from the cliff side as I leap up from the side, landing in front of the clones and immediately start deflecting with my 2 sabers having nothing pass. Cody takes this opportunity to run around my defense and attacks the droids head on, bashing one droid with the butt of his rifle and swinging his rifle at another, destroying both of them. The droid manning the anti aircraft gun turns and aims at Cody. Instinctively I jump in front of the cannon as it fires, I deflect the large bolt away with my right yellow saber, knocking my body to the right, making me stumble. But with the motion throwing me to the right, I use the momentum to throw my green saber with my left hand, impaling the droid in the metal chest. Cody then hops onto the turret, points the gun at the droids firing at our men, and lets loose, destroying all in its reticle.
"Thanks General, I owe you one, ill getcha next time." Cody said slowly getting off the turret.
"You're alright my friend, just pay it forward, let's go see how Obi-Wan did." I slightly worried, staring off to the north.

 We group up at the randevu, where we have set base camp on the planet in a small raven a bit away from where we captured the cliff with some makeshift scouting towers dotted around our position. Obi-Wan had more resistance than what he had anticipated, he was a little banged up, but he was fine in the end. This was a huge victory seeing as we have been able to set base on a planet that allows us to get resources through this hyperspace route and onto parts of the army past this point. Before, General Grievous snipped our route to where we couldn't get resources to our army on the other side from Coruscant. 

Chapter 4

 12 hours later, we have rested and have managed to build up a good base incase of a surprise attack. We are still fighting a few fronts of Separatist holdouts with a fortress a few klicks west, or about 4 miles west. 

I sit in my tent meditating, reflecting back on the weeks events, and what Ahsoka was doing back at the temple, training hard. I recite what I did with an almost overwhelming amount of blaster fire attempting to fly into me, how I was just mostly averting the blots away from me and not in a direction that would benefit me most.
'RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE'

 The ground started to shake out of nowhere, breaking my peace. I rush out of my tent, only to be met with a face full of B2 battle droid. I jump back over my tent flipping onto my feet as I see my tent being lit into flames from heavy bolt fire flying at me. Igniting both my sabers, I deflect the incoming fire away from me up into the sky as much as I physically could. I took a glance around, it was becoming more sunlit as we fought. It was a slaughter, clones dying left and right, Kenobi was on the Command ship getting patched, so it was just me, and the clones down here, being manicured. With a swift right step, I change lightsaber form, combining my form 3, (defensive form blocking anything coming way, and either making, or waiting for an opening to strike) with a combination of form 2 (saber to saber form, putting least amount or saber movement and preferring precise efficient movements) and form 4 (saber from using the force to enhance physical abilities, and heavily utilizing fast acrobatic movements to move around and disorient the opponents, using wide sweeping saber movements to block and hit targets) I use the power if the many bolts to propel my body onto my right leg, crouching down and taking a huge lead in to the air. Looking around like it is moving in stop motion, I see thousands of droids around, completely outnumbering my men. Glancing down where I had jumped from, there seems to be a super battle droid rising from the ground, looking as if it has been there for at least a few days. Time seems to start like normal again, immediately I have to block bolts coming for my body, twisting, turning, deflecting every. single. bolt. right to another droid. I can't have any more unneeded deaths in my hands. I land with an impactful explosion of yellow lighting, rendering half of the electronics on the field obsolete. Shots fire over the wall, exploding near me. 

"Everyone, Retreat!" I yelled into the comms.
I ran towards the lieutenant that I had survived the crash with, he was running for a troop transport.
"Get to the ships, return to the Venators! Get Kenobi and relay what has happened!" Urgency blowing through my voice.

 I push him into the ship as it takes off. As it's doing so, I force push it away from the field as to be in less danger of being shot down. But rockets fly through the air, I reach through the force and grab onto the hurdling death traps, I grab 1, 2, crash them into one another, 3, grab, 4, grab, 5, miss. ERRROW… BOOOM! With a hopeless explosion, the ship bursts into an explosive ball of fire, right in front of my eyes, out of my grasp. Shots fly past my head from behind me, I ignite my sunlit yellow saber to block incoming bolts. No men, only metal remains, and it wants me dead. I dash for my ship on the other side of the airstrip, luckily barely touched from this horrible surprise party that invited everyone I very much dislike. Hopping into my A-wing, I lift-off dogging left, right, up, down, roll left, roll right, barely being passed by on all sides by cannon fire. When I reach the point past the clouds, there's a whole war above. Separatist forces have surprised Kenobi with an overwhelming number of ships, putting our war torn 12 Venators against 16 Munificent class Cruisers. We were greatly out matched. But the time I was in space we had lost 3 Vectors compared to there 1 lost. Droids noticed me coming from the planet and started to verge onto my position. 

"Obi-Wan! You there? Can you hear me?" I yelled, pulling evasive maneuvers.
"Saya, is that you?" Kenobi asked.
"Yes, we got surprised on the ground, seems the same happened here." I rushingly said.
"Yes, they came out of nowh-" Kenobi is cut off by a blaring siren from my cockpit.
"Wait, my ship is damaged, it's starting up my hyperdrive, 411 can you fix it?" I said dipping left and right while trying to stop the hyperdrive activation.
With a few bleeps of fear, I understand what's happening.
"When I was thrown from the capital ship explosive wave, I must have been hit near the hyperdrive, and explosions from my escape, along with the maneuvers I have been pulling, it may have caused damage that is registering a hyperdrive activation. Master Obi-Wan, I don't know, I-I don't know what to do!" I claimed with fear in my eyes.
"Can you deactivate the hyperdrive at all 411?" Kenobi asked
411 bleeps with a sad toon.
"Blast, Saya, does it say where you're going?"
"N- No, my council just says ERROR." I stated, now with much fear in my voice.

 I managed to steer my craft into the position of the hyperspace lane. 

"Tell Ahsoka good bye if I don't-" I get cut off when the the hyperdrive powered up woth a vvvvvvvvvvvVVVVERRRRRRR PEEOW, and just like that, me, my A-wing, and R2-411, are gone.
Chapter 5

 It's been days since the battle, mabe 2 or 3 days. Luckily I always keep many ration bars in my fighter to last me a good few days, along with my extra water and my ability to go into a deep meditative state, conserving food and water. Keeping me company is my meditation and 411. We have almost hit some unknown objects, could have been planets, asteroids, other ships, but we seem to be staying in hyperspace lanes luckily, or I would have been dead a long time ago. My class 2 hyperdrive could have taken me all over the galaxy by now, I could be heading towards Coruscant right now for all I know. 

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
My hyperdrive warning kicked on, showing that there is a massive gravity force in my path. The console flashed with big red dangerous letters "Exiting Hyperdrive" on the screen.
"YES! FINALLY!" I yelled with excitement.

 I watch through the glass to see a barren looking planet, and a similar looking moon, a moon I was heading to. I was moving fast, as I entered the moon's atmosphere, Im grabbing the controls, barely anything. My craft is red hot from the rate at which I'm coming in on. I'm grabbing the stick, pulling back as much as I can, as to try and save myself and 411 from a fiery death. I scraped by a big rocky mountain dealing more damage to my A-wing. 

"HOLD ON 411!"
"Come ooooon. Pull pull pullllll…. Ahhhhhhhhh!!!-" VERRROW BOOOOSH!!! The crash landing sounded like a bomb flying through the air, then landing on its target. I try to get from my seat just to find my strap and window will not open. Using my saber I cut off my seat strap and broke the window from the hinges and leaped out, taking 411 from the craft, swiftly landing on a tall mountainous rock. The craft seemed to have pushed through the land 50 meters from the initial impact spot. The area I was in seemed to be very rocky terrain with many rocky canyons and huge rocks that are almost mountainous. The sun was close to setting down for the night but was still a good hour away from sleeping.

 With the force by my side, I felt a very uneasy sensation telling me to stay out of sight. I duck down on the tall skinny rock taking 411 down with me. 411 confusingly bleeps when I do so. "Hey, I have a feeling right now, just keep quiet real quick, there's somebody coming. Trust me." Me and 411 peer over the edge looming over my crashed ship just as a group of 6 men in full armor covering their whole body fly in with jetpacks strapped to their backs, blasters in hand. As they land, they search around my wreckage, presumably looking for survivors. One seems to be ordering the others around, pointing at one to look in one direction, another a different direction, and scanning around for the unexpected visitor. I look down at my Wrist link, my distress signal wasn't sent, I guess that was damaged from entering the planet at such high speed with no deflector shields surrounding the ship like a protective blanket. 

"Blast, 411, what's your S.O.S signal situation, did it go through?" 411 beeps with a little drama like I should know it didn't go through.
"Well sorry for busting your rusty bolts you rowdy rancor, better to try than to just give up mister sassy pants. Maybe I should wipe your memory for a change, see how you like it."
"Now shush, don't want them to find us spying on them, won't look too good." I demand. "Now here, in case we get caught, I don't want them to know I'm a Jedi, so here, take my sabers, I'm not gonna need them anyways." I said shoving my lightsabers into 411's storage compartment and looking towards the crash again.

 Just then the suit of armor that had been commanding his squad bursts up into my view right on my face out of hyperspace blue. 

"Ah, found ya trespassers, you 2 are coming with me." Demanded the Mandalorian with a snickering sound in his voice as the others rise from the portal of the abyss from down below.

 It was a good thing my ropes where in the tent back on Sarrish, or this may have been an even worse situation, Mangalorians like them hate Jedi with a passion, and it's a good thing I always have a broken blaster in 411 for any cases where I need to blend in with a crowd or pose as a normal civilian; although, the ability to become a civilian at any point is great, I've had little need to do so much. I'm quite popular with the people for being one who tries to connect with the population as a fellow citizen. So I rarely stay in the temple for too long. I love being with the people and learning skills without the force, like being a mechanic, electrician, public speaker, security guard, an all around great person to talk with about anything. I'm quite known on all levels of Coruscant for being one of the most friendly Jedi to be around. Right now though, I need to focus on not being caught, at least That's what my gut is telling me. After they searched my character for any weapons and found the broken blaster that 411 had put in my holster where my lightsaber usually is, they were satisfied and pushed us into one of their big Kom'rk Mark 1 class Mandalorian starfightetransport ship. 

(Look in comments for 6th)