[This post opens to a view of the lake at twilight--on the lake, rather. The video is unsteady; look away if you're the sort of person who is prone to seasickness. Lakesickness. Whatever the network device is balanced on appears to be moving at a good clip.

Oh, wait. The view changes and--yep, that's a giant wooden swan head. Citizens, there is a motorized swan boat doing warp eight going faster than wooden swan boats are probably supposed to go.]

This is the best curse since everything turned to food!

[Not surprisingly, perhaps, that voice belongs to Chekov. Should anyone else be enjoying a nice swan boat ride on the lake... well, be careful. This particular swan's steering system might not be working at optimum levels.]

[ Jesse's been around in Poly for a while . . . and he's starting to hate living in the clinic. Mostly because he's been used to live in a house mostly by himself when his parents are away to work during the day, and not being with so many people. But even then he's hesitant of asking for other places to live in, simply because of the memories of his parents warning him about strangers. It's stupid to still uphold that after being here for so long, but habits (lessons?) die hard. ]

Is there anther place than the Clinic that I can go to a place to live in?