Chapter Three: Sock

Ashley

I wonder if Mary hears the sound of extreme pleading in my voice as I yell for her to come back. The bathroom door slams shut.

Great, just great. What a perfect time to run off and leave me to explain everything to the people who caught me stealing their underwear. What am I supposed to tell them, anyway? She probably remembers more than I do. Wait… does she? Oh crap.

The blonde is staring at me with an enraged, expectant look on his face. Whatever he just asked, I must have completely missed.

"Huh?" I ask in confusion, earning me another crueler glare.

He growls in frustration, "What the HELL are you doing in my dorm?" he yells, practically shaking with anger.

Resisting the urge to yell back, I try to explain to him. "I'm not completely sure. All I know is that we had to find clothes and we ended up here. Thanks for the boxers, by the way," I reply, unable to help myself from voicing the last comment.

"Are you trying to be funny?" the blonde replies through gritted teeth.

I smile a slightly nervous smile. "Is it working?"

Judging by the complete and utter look of disgust we're receiving, I'd say no.

"So basically you've been running around Central half-naked this whole time?" He mercifully ignores my inappropriate question, turning back to an earlier subject matter. I open my mouth to spit back a sarcastic and hopefully witty reply.

Wait…

"What's Central?" I question, sure that my complete confusion is evident on my face.

"Whaddya mean 'what's Central'?"

Up until this point, I have somehow been completely unaware of the seven-foot tall mass of steel next to him, who now jumps in to help try and smooth over the other boy's abrasive attitude. "Central is a city. The one we're in now. It's pretty much the center of Amestris," he explains, his beautiful, metallic voice ringing with a welcome, yet unexpected kindness.

My confusion only grows. "What's Amestris?"

Nice going, Self. Now not only do these people think you are a thief and a nudist, but also a complete idiot.

My last question proves too much for the angry one to take, "Are you jerking me around?!"

Trust me, I would not like to jerk you anywhere, my mind automatically responds.

That sounded extremely dirty, I remark back to it, repressing a smile.

"No, I honestly don't know," I say as seriously as I can.

The glare in the boy's golden eyes softens almost imperceptibly, but I can tell he is still angry. "Then where did you two come from?"

All the questions I've been avoiding answering myself are now coming back to me at full force. I look down at the carpet and shake my head slightly. "I don't know."

"You don't know? Then how did you end up here?"

I glance up at him with tired eyes, finally feeling my adrenaline level declining and the weight of what seemed an extremely long day weighing on me. "I don't know," I repeat wearily.

"Geez! Why do I even bother asking you anything?" he says, more to himself than to me.

My eyelids begin to droop right as I hear the armored man's kind voice coming to my aid yet again. "Ed," he begins explaining to the other, "I think I know what's going on here. I heard about it once when you were in the hospital. I think this girl has amnesia."

You go Armored Man, my brain seems to be saying with a slight slur, uncommon to its usual peppiness.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," he says to the other with increasing annoyance, then turns to me. "You mean you don't remember anything?"

"My name's Ashley," I yawn, hoping he understands so that I don't have to repeat myself.

"Great, that tells me a lot," he says, his tone thick with sarcasm. But before I even think of a reply, my head is rested against the back of the couch, my eyes shut.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing? You can't sleep there!"

"Ed, just leave her alone. Don't you think she's been through enough for one night?"

Yeah, Ed. Just leave me… But my thoughts go unfinished as I dissolve into the realm of dreams.

---

A bright light comes filtering through my eyelids. I groan at this interruption to my dreams. They were so weird. Weirder than normal. I slightly remember something about an armored dude and a short guy. My eyes blink open and I yawn, sinking my head deeper into the soft pillow trying to remember more details of the incredibly strange dream.

There was a scarred man, some boxers, a red couch…

My eyes snap open; my vision fills with red. I quickly throw back the cover and see that I'm in an oversized jacket and some pretty tight boxers. Pulling the cover back over my scantly-clad body, what I thought was a dream comes rushing back into my brain.

Ohhh crap… Hang on – I don't remember there being a cover. Or a pillow either, for that matter.

The creaking of the front door opening makes me jump in surprise and, sure enough, there's Armored Man walking through the door with what looks like a shopping bag.

Why does he need to go shopping? It's not like anyone actually sees him under all that metal anyway…

"Oh, good. You're up," he addresses me. I look around to make sure that I'm the one he's talking to. I don't see anyone else.

"Where's Mary?" I quickly question, suddenly worried about my friend.

"Mary?" he inquires, "Oh, your friend. She never came out of the bathroom."

I jump up, wrapping the jacket around me securely and rush to the bathroom door. "Mary, open up!" I yell, knocking frantically and hoping she didn't escape and leave me here with two strangers. The door opens just a crack and I see her peering out.

"Ashley… What's going on?" she asks, opening the door wider upon seeing me.

"I don't know. Do you not remember anything either?"

"No. I was hoping you did," she admits, giving up her last bit of hope and taking mine as well.

After a pause, I become strangely uncomfortable with the situation; her taking refuge in the bathroom, Armored Man behind me, and me in the middle, completely exposed. "Umm… I have to pee," I say, trying to rearrange the position to something a bit more suitable and genuinely needing to go.

Mary seems reluctant to step out of her shelter but, to my surprise, does so quite quickly to let me in. When I come out, I cannot believe my eyes and almost dart back into the bathroom. The coffee table is covered with a bright pink fabric, poofing out at the strangest points. Closer examination shows it to be a dress… A bright pink poofy dress… I begin to feel sick.

Please, oh God, tell me that is not for me.

"Ashley?" I hear the strangely familiar light voice that once sounded so helpful and kind now sounding like an executioner escorting me to the electric chair. My eyes glance at the pile of pink poof once more and then back to the armor.

"He got us dresses to wear," Mary informs me, keeping her voice carefully controlled and trying her best to sound happy. One thing I do remember – Mary's a terrible actress.

"Oh," I reply, not taking my eyes off the dress and not even bothering to try and hide the fear mingled with disgust from my eyes. "Umm… Thanks for the thought, I mean, I appreciate it but…" I look at Armored Man and then avert my eyes to the floor, ashamed, "I – I really don't do pink and poofy. I'm sorry."

I feel awful. Here is a guy that has taken me in, not knowing a thing about me. A guy who has stood up for me and been kind when he could've just let the other guy – was his name Ed? – kick me out on the streets in a strange town. And now he's gone above and beyond by getting up early and buying something for me to wear, but how do I repay him?

Selfish, ungrateful little brat, my mind chides me for my pride.

"Oh…" is my only reply and he too seems to become very interested in the floor.

Noticing the uncomfortable tension in the air, Mary quickly jumps in.

"I'll try mine on," she assures him and, dress in hand, walks back into the bathroom.

Gosh… What a saint she looks like compared to me. Armored Man is still keeping his eyes away. I don't blame him.

I stare up at the ceiling to keep my eyes dry. It's strange. I remember that I hardly ever cry except for when I hurt someone else's feelings. I wonder if I should say something to him again but Mary shuffles out of the bathroom before I know what to say. I'm surprised when I see the pink poof once again over her shoulder and her still in the oversized shirt. It seems to me that she's holding in tears too.

"It didn't fit…" she confesses, allowing a tear to slide down her cheek.

No... No, don't cry, I think, you know I don't deal with crying well -- not even my own.

Mary begins to turn red and I rush over to soothe her before she has the chance to run away again.

"It's okay," I say, grasping her shoulder and trying to be comforting, something I've never been good at, "We… We'll go shopping and get you some new clothes."

Mary glances over at me through her teary eyes. "We... don't have… any money," she chokes out.

"We'll get some," I assure her, not knowing how, but knowing that I have to pull her out of her depression.

"I could take you shopping," Armored Man offers. His voice catches me off guard and I gape at him in disbelief. I can tell he is still flustered from earlier and even more from Mary's tears, but here he is trying to help again. The kindness makes my chest feel tight and brings back the feeling of my hot tears about to spill.

Why does he have to be so nice? Ahh! Now I feel even worse about what I said.

"Really?" I say, trying to wipe the tears from my eyes without actually letting them fall, "Thank you."

Mary's tomato-red face gradually fades into pink and begins going back to its normal color. I watch the colors for lack of anything better to do and without knowing the specifics of when we're going shopping and what we're going to wear out of the house. My peripheral vision catches sight of a door flying open and I turn my head to see the blonde, Ed, trudging out of the room in a pair of light blue boxers, the same kind of boxers Mary and I are wearing. He rubs his eyes sleepily and heads straight for the refrigerator, not bothering to look at anyone; not even seeming to notice anyone.

Whoa… How strange -- an arm and a leg of metal. And, now that I think about it, Armored Man is metal, too. Maybe they're not strange. Maybe I am. Is it possible that everyone here is metal in some way? My mind flashes to the scarred man, No, he wasn't metal…

Rumbling and chinking noises come from the refrigerator and I look over to see Ed's butt sticking out as he hunts for food. Well, that's attractive, I think sarcastically. His face appears above the fridge door and I see that he's found a bowl of noodles and is now scarfing them down. He stops mid-chew when he catches sight of me. Noodles hang from his mouth. He glances over to Mary, then Armored Man, and back to me.

"You," he says in shock, noodles falling out of his mouth and onto the floor. "What are you still doing here?"

My eyes follow the noodles on their trip to the floor and it takes me a second to realize who he's talking to. "He's taking us shopping," I say, pointing at Armored Man, who seems to have a knack for getting in the middle of things.

Come to think of it, I have the same problem…

"You're doing what?" he yells at the suit of armor, "And how are you going to afford it? You don't have any money!"

"Well," he hesitates, "Ed, come on. They don't know where they're from or how they got here and they really need clothes."

"What's that?" Ed says in disgust, eying the mass of pink poof still sprawled out on the coffee table.

"Uh… well, I thought I'd get them dresses to wear, but…" he breaks off, seeming a bit embarrassed at remembering what has just passed, "It… didn't really work out," he finishes lamely.

Ed keeps staring, unsure of what to think, but guessing that something uncomfortable had happened before he appeared and knowing better than to ask.

"So…" Armored Man begins again, seeing that his companion isn't going to reply, or possibly hoping he won't ask, "Do you think you can change these dresses into something for them to wear for a while?"

Wait – change them? What does he do, sew?

The image in my mind is so hilarious that I find it impossible for me not to laugh, and I have to put my hand over my mouth and pretend to cough to cover it.

"Aw, hell. Fine already," Ed replies as he marches up to the dress, scans me once with his eyes, and claps his hands together. The next thing that happens makes me sure this must still be my dream. A blue flashing light, strangely familiar looking though I can't remember how, engulfs the pink and the next thing I know, it's a plain white t-shirt and strange-looking pants with random pink gaudy looking dragons and spikes.

"Oh, wow," I say, trying to keep the shock out of my voice, but at the same time trying not to sound too impressed. "But, umm… What's up with the dragons?" I ask with a 'what the hell is that' look on my face.

Armored Man laughs lightly and I can tell that somehow me insulting this guy's taste has made him feel a bit better about his own. It probably also helped that I was a lot nicer to him than Ed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Any requests?" he retorts sarcastically.

"Well," I begin, "You could turn it into a skirt. A white skirt. A plain white skirt. And make the shirt a different color."

I am now on the receiving end of an incredulous stare.

Yes, I do realize you weren't wanting or expecting an answer. But you asked, so get used to it.

Oddly enough, he complies to my demands, probably not wanting to get involved in further debate with me at the moment.

In the end, I wind up with a pink tee-shirt and a plain white skirt. Mary's lack of preference earns her a white shirt with pink pants. It appears that he gave up on designs.

I step out of the bedroom after changing. Strangely enough, Ed is clothed, though I can't figure out where on earth he changed, considering Mary and I were occupying the only extra rooms. Mary is already on the couch, arms crossed over her chest, but seeming truly happy with having clothes that fit.

"You're still wearing the jacket?" the blonde observes indignantly.

I look down for effect, "It would appear so."

"Why?"

I hesitate. I realize that I have been pretty bold with this guy the whole time, but that's only because he's been yelling and giving me disgusted glares the whole time, not to mention challenging everything I say or do. "I don't have a bra," I reply, emotionless. Mary's eyes widen in shock and it appears to be Ed's turn to crimson.

"Time to go," is my only reply as he marches out the door. The three of us quickly follow.

---

Once Mary and I are fully underclothed and dressed in the basics – with me extremely glad to be back in jeans – we get to the real part of shopping; the fun part. Ed drags like a log behind us, while Armored Man seems genuinely interested in our choices.

"Hey, Arm—" I stop myself and it dawns on me that I don't know his name. "Uhh… What's your name?" I ask, feeling bad for not knowing.

"Huh? Oh, it's Alphonse," he responds in his increasingly cute voice.

"Alphonse?" I question, completely intrigued. He nods slightly.

A beautiful voice and name? What are the odds?

"That's amazing!" I remark, smiling.

"Really?" he asks, uncertain.

"Yes it's… beautiful." I don't know what it is, but for some reason I already feel comfortable enough around him to say these things.

"Th- Thank you," he stammers slightly.

I hope he doesn't think I'm hitting on him or anything, I worry quickly.

Smiling again, I begin to shuffle away from the aisle to search for something a bit more interesting. After turning a few corners, I enter a new section, giving my mind a terrible, awful idea.

Ohh, this will be fun.

Mary

I absentmindedly run my fingers over the clothes laid out on the tables, already having changed into a plain brown shirt and blue jeans. I bought, with the blonde boy's – Ed's – money, several more outfits like it; I'm sure he was thankful for my frugality.

Unlike Ashley – dragging us from store to store, wanting to purchase everything down to the very last sock. Alphonse's arms grow heavy with shopping bags, and I marvel at his strength. Holding up that suit of armor and all of Ashley's belongings… that deserves a big 'wow'. I keep wondering, though, why I haven't seen this guy in the flesh. Why did he wear this armor, even around their dorm? I would ask, but it felt rude, for what if Alphonse is covering some grotesque disfiguration?

I know Ashley will touch on the subject eventually, so for the time being, I keep quiet.

Besides, I have much more important matters dominating my thoughts. While Ashley is content to run carelessly around this foreign city, I can only feel an intensifying blizzard of fear: we both have amnesia. I can understand this phenomenon afflicting me, or her, or both of us months apart. But at the same time, in the same manner? It can't be a coincidence.

Where had we been last…? Perhaps we were being used as test subjects in horrible scientific experiments. I impulsively glance over my arms for needle marks, thankfully finding 'zilch'… which doesn't necessarily disprove that theory, but I refuse to jump to conclusions without proper evidence.

What else… I thrum my fingers impatiently against my leg while my brain delves further into its musings.

My memory begins in the tent with the scarred man. We were naked, and he was asleep. Is it rational to think he may have been involved? Rape? And loss of memory from trauma? However, both Ashley and I were relatively unharmed, and I expect someone would be close to death, in the case of a violent rape. And violent rape would be necessary to cause amnesia.

So, what else might the scarred man have done to us, if anything at all? If only we could find him again… His face suddenly flashes through my mind, dark and dangerous, even in sleep. Like a dozing dragon. I realize I wouldn't want to encounter this man again.

It's funny how amnesia works. It wasn't until I finally calmed down and tried to sort out my location last night that I realized there were gaps in my memory. Perhaps if I was at home I wouldn't even have noticed. Wherever home was.

Yet I can remember pure knowledge. How else would I have known how to react to Ashley's asthma attack? There were merely no examples to draw from, as though everything I knew was a truism. The sun rises in the morning and sets at night. Why? I don't know, but it does, every day.

Actually, that has to do with Earth's gravitational relationship to the sun… maybe that wasn't the best example to use… Anyway.

Why do I remember Ashley? Or do I remember her? I know we saw each other a lot… I know her personality well enough to predict some of her actions…

And what in the world had Ed done this morning to make our clothes? Magic? Magic doesn't exist, and I'm sure I would remember the existence of magic over… what? My last name? I can't even remember that.

I frown. None of my examples are verifying anything I'm saying. Though the argument is directed to myself, it still frustrates me that I can't support any of my points.

Hmm… It can't be exclusive to Ed – the nonchalance he performed the trick with made it clear it wasn't a secret.

So.

"Are you okay, Mary?" Alphonse asks tentatively, breaking me from my thoughts with a start. I swallow and nod my head for 'yes'. I realize we had been standing side by side over a table for some time without exchanging any comments. I couldn't speak, though. After the scandals of last night, there was nothing I could say to convince him that I wasn't a sniffling klutz.

"You're thinking about your amnesia, aren't you?" I glance at him with suspicion, confirming his hypothesis. He looks away. "I thought so. It must be terrifying."

"Yeah…"

"Not that long ago, I was convinced that I couldn't remember my childhood. I started questioning everything around me, and I felt completely alone. I know it's not quite the same thing, but… You can't give up hope. I'm sure everything will work out eventually."

"Thank you."

Alphonse pauses and abruptly changes the subject. "I'm sorry about this morning."

"What?" Guilt hits me once again; I turn on Alphonse in a panic. "Why are you sorry? We're the ones that showed up on your doorstep! You didn't have to help us, you didn't have to buy us anything. It's not your fault I'm so fat…"

The armored man interrupts quickly. "You're not fat! I'm just not used to buying clothes, especially for girls."

"…It was really nice of you, though."

I'm sure he smiles at that. He shuffles and the bags and boxes sway in his arms.

"You want me to carry anything?" Maybe I can repay part of his kindness.

"Huh? Oh, these? No, I'm okay. I hardly notice they're there." And he didn't seem to notice. I swear, a normal person's arms would be breaking about now.

"I'm sorry Ashley's using you as a pack mule. She does the same to me."

He shrugs as much as he can in the armor. "I really don't mind." Another pause. "Ashley has a lot of energy, doesn't she?"

I laugh. "Too much."

We seem to notice it at the same time.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"She's been gone for…"

"Quite a while."

"This store isn't that big."

I study Alphonse's luggage, nearly blocking his vision now, and say, "I'll look for her," before walking off. A pressure recedes from my chest, and I relax, safe away from the awkward conversation with the armored man.

I jog around tables and through aisles, scanning the small store for Ashley. Why does she have to be so short? Near the entrance to the building, I run into Ed. He is slouched against a wall, arms crossed and expression bored. Nervousness again flutters in my stomach, but I press through it.

"Hey, um…" The golden eyes slide lazily to meet me. "Have you seen Ashley?"

"Who?"

I blink. "My friend."

"Oh, right. Then, no, I haven't." Ed rolls his shoulders in their sockets and crunches his neck on both sides. He notices I'm still standing there. "Anything else?"

"Oh, um…" I blush. "No, nothing." I turn to retreat again into my quest, but halt at the sudden sound of shoes slapping against the floor, quickly growing closer and louder. Ashley bursts into view, and my eye begins to twitch. I hear a startled, "The hell?" behind me.

Ashley is wearing a pair of long black pants and a blue tank top, but the adorning articles are what capture our attentions. Over her clothes is a pair of yellow boxers decorated by dancing monkeys and a lime green bra with day-glow pink polka dots.

The girl stands proudly in front of us, hands on hips like a superhero, grinning triumphantly. All she's missing is an obnoxious red cape. "Ta da!"

Another set of footsteps approach us, sounding like the cacophony of a toddler set loose amongst a collection of pots and pans. Alphonse runs in from my right. "Great! You found… her? Uh… Ashley? What are you wearing?"

"The most amazing outfit conceived by mankind! BAM!" She bumps one hip to the side, causing the monkeys on her boxers to boogie ferociously. "I'm getting these boxers!"

"Why?" Ed and I ask in unified exasperation. I blush again and let him do the questioning. He glances at me before continuing. "Why do you need boxers? You're a girl! Girls are supposed to wear… well, you know." So he's not comfortable talking about the opposite sex's underwear? Or else he doesn't know what we wear underneath it all. Hmm… I want to grin goofily at the thought.

Until I remember the atrocities of last night, and then I curl further into my ball of safety.

"I have a bra, too," Ashley retorts, stroking one of the straps. "Mmm… sexy cotton."

Ed curls up one fist and shakes it at her. "I've already spent who knows how many cenz on you, little girl." Ashley yells indignantly. "I can understand a couple of outfits, a pair of shoes. But the swimsuit, the floral hats, all that glittery crap… and now this?"

"Ed," Alphonse begins to chide.

"You can't honestly be okay with her wasting all of our money like this? Yeah, I get it, she has amnesia, everything's new to her, we should support her and try not to upset her… But you know what? This is stupid. She's using us, Al."

"But-"

"No but's, Al." He points one gloved finger at Ashley. "You. Take that stuff off. Now."

Ashley narrows her eyes and raises up on her toes. "Make me, little boy."

"I'm leaving," I say, suddenly intensely emotional. I turn – nails digging into my shaking palms – and glide out through the door. I hear Ashley try to follow me but get stopped by the store manager.

I keep walking, and walking, and walking… The streets of downtown Central City are lined with shops and filled with people. Conscious of Stranger Danger, I pretend to have a purpose, like all of these determined people around me. And I keep walking and walking…

I reach the edge of the store fronts and discover that they rest on a hill, after which the street slopes down into a residential district. I can see the sun in the west, low in the sky, dangling above a distant ocean of trees. This late already…? And what have we accomplished? The pointlessness of our day weighs down upon me, inflating the size of the city and the span of my amnesia.

Maybe I can't remember anything because I didn't exist until now. Or maybe I have no family, no life, nothing to remember… I feel incredibly alone in this huge world. Suddenly, I want to be back in the closet of a clothing store, laughing at how spontaneous my best friend is.

...My best friend. That's what she is.

I turn my back to the sun and peer into the bustling capitol. But I don't recognize anything, so fixated was I on my anger and my sadness and my fake determination.

I didn't turn any corners, so I can backtrack… but do I even remember the store they were in? Are they still there?

Why didn't anyone follow me?

My eyes well with tears. Hopeless, I collapse on a nearby bench and watch the unfamiliar world flit by. I wait, staring into nothingness.

"Hey!" a voice yells from my left. It's familiar, strangely enough, but I don't seem to care. Surely they aren't talking to me. Footsteps thump against the ground and people complain as they are shoved out of the way. Ed runs out of the crowd and halts, panting, in front of me.

"Dammit…" he breathes. "What were you thinking?"

I stare at him, amazed. Of all the people who might have come, I expected him last.

"What are you doing here?"

"Whaddya mean? Looking for you!"

"Why?"

"Why? Because… somebody had to! Long-haired girl's being accused of shoplifting and Al sent me after you."

"And you came?"

"Of course. You can't be wandering around Central in the middle of the night. There are dangerous people living here."

"…I'm sorry."

"…Yeah. Yeah, you should be." He crosses his arms over his chest, seeming satisfied. I stand up slowly, wanting dignity, but feeling like the five-year-old scolded for sticking her hand in the cookie jar.

"Why'd you storm out like that, anyway?" Ed asks as we begin to walk back to the store.

I look over at him. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his red coat. His countenance isn't angry, but thoughtful, and his voice is surprisingly calm.

Quietly, I say, "I don't know."

"You have to know," Ed counters. I grimace at the sidewalk. "What, did she embarrass you?"

"Not really… I… just really hate it when people fight around me. I get scared."

The blonde boy looks away, carrying a hint of guilt. Or so I imagine. "Huh."

"But, I was also mad. At Ashley. She doesn't seem to care that we have amnesia. It's all one big game to her."

Ed frowns. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks so."

"Hmm?"

"It's weird that you both have amnesia at the same time, even more so that you woke up nude in the middle of the city."

"I agree. So, we should be figuring out what happened-"

"Instead of shopping."

Our eyes meet for one second.

"Then do you care about what happens to us?"

He looks somehow shocked but quickly laughs and folds his hands behind his head. "I just want you out of my dorm and my wallet! I don't have the time to care for lost puppies."

"Huhn…" Lost puppies?

A few minutes later, we meet up with Ashley and Alphonse in front of the clothing store. Ashley pounces on me, squeezing me in a crushing hug.

"Ahh!" I cry out. "Ed! She's hugging me!"

"Uh huh!" She releases me and grins. "Where did you run off to?"

I point down the road, shrugging half-heartedly. "Over there."

Ashley seems suspicious but doesn't push me any further. She'll interrogate me later, when we are away from the brothers.

"Apparently I look like a shoplifter."

"I've always thought so," I laugh.

"Now," Ed interjects, glaring at Ashley. "We're done shopping. We're going back to the dorms to talk about his whole amnesia deal."

"Good," Ashley says. "I was getting bored." I twitch again, while Ed looks ready to punch the girl.

We finally depart for Ed and Alphonse's dorm as the sun dips beneath the hillside. I guess everything's okay now. No one was fighting, and at last we were going to investigate the circumstances behind our memory loss. Now I just have to figure out what to say when they start questioning us. My mind whirls around possible scenarios, comfortable in the safety of logic.