Gardening's an evening activity, for Some. Wearing all-covering clothing and that tatty broad-brimmed hat, he finally joins Jon in the field across the shallow river from their home. It's time to plant pumpkins and corn, bedding both in the long, high mounds they started building last week, charging the boys with picking out the new weeds that have tried to take hold since then.

Some's missed a few days of morning libations, but not this morning. He's AWOL from the Clinics again, having brought himself to his old cave, to pour out a bottle of ice wine into the white sand, sitting inside the circle marked out for Hermes.

"Hermes, God of the New City, I give you this offering and would... would really like to talk to you."

The progenitive cascade pod that Rassilon put him in is a little too close to certain parts of Some's past for him to relax, let alone the changes that it means for his life. But Kurt and Jon are there, just outside, and he can hear them. So he'll just grip the pad he's lying on with white knuckles and wait, while the (very) faint purple light moves slowly, slowly over his body from head to toe. He can't feel the effects the radiation is having on a nanocellular level, but he imagined he can. His entire body itches. But it's all right. It's okay. This isn't the Shop, this isn't an MRI or a metabolic hood, and those are his loved ones and friend outside the pod, not Doctor T, not Dominic. He chose this, he wants this.

He can't help the way his heart races.

This is now officially the journal of Grue Some, formerly found at some_thing_. Thank you for your patience with the move, and please don't mind the mess.