#geranirem

[isolaradiale]

Without prior reservation, I would like to apply for Rem Saverem from Trigun Stampede. Her app can be found under /app

Welcome to Isola Radiale!

You'll be housed in TOWNHOUSE 215!

Enjoy your stay!

– ⋆ solaris

[amoirsetpacis]

[txt] Just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. (´꒳`)♡

Ah.

It's. Still difficult, talking with her. There's still the sting of the fact that this Rem isn't his mother, and then the guilt quick on that hurt's heels that he can't seem to move past it. It's the same song and dance he's already been having with his young doppelganger, the same argument they can't seem to ever completely work around.

The message sits for a not insignificant amount of time as 'unread'; the notification making his phone light up was enough to be able to read the entire message. And he feels bad about that too- about leaving her hanging for so long. It's rude, first of all, just in general. But she's also showing that she does in fact care for him, even if he isn't her son, and hadn't she done that from the get go?

[ text ] I'm doing okay! Thanks! :)

Did she know? About everything that had happened? Surely the younger Stampede would have tried to contact her during all the chaos, would have tried to make sure that she stayed safe, but did she know? About the havoc Vash himself had caused? That he was the reason her son had ....?

She's not mentioning it. She's not mentioning it and he won't either, coward that he is. It would have been different, he guesses, if she had been angry at him. And she should be, if she knows. If the younger Stampede had even told her-- which, honestly, Vash doubts. He also doubts Rem would have it in her to be angry at him, if she was anything like his own mother.

[ text ] I was thinking, actually, that I haven't had a chance to gift you any flowers yet! [ text ] I grow a lot of them at the shop. :) [ text ] Come pick out a bouquet sometime! [ text ] Or I can put one together for you. ✨

[blankticket]

[txt] I hope you got back okay. [txt] I'm always here if you need to talk. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Too much of a coward to call back, like he'd promised.

[text]: Yes, I'm okay! It didn't turn out to be anything big after all. [text]: Thank you for having my back. [text]: Love ya lots!! ～ ♡ ヽ（⌒ヮ⌒. )

[deadlydevotion]

Legato is fairly certain that, whoever she is besides being the twin's mother, Rem is very much better then he is. He has enough sense to keep his mouth shut this time and accept the glass of water to sip at, which does help considering all the water he's lost in the form of tears today.

He does snort a little into the glass at her summary of their current situation. Had he been any less obviously out of it when she'd come across him it would have been a very stupid idea indeed to do as she's done. Luckily, Legato is currently about as threatening as an overcooked noodle.

"Oblivious, dare I say sometimes more then a little stupid," Legato rolls his eyes, both exasperated and immeasurably fond. If he's going to allow himself any small amount of complaining about Knives and his obliviousness it would be to her. "Knives is not very good at parsing feelings, other's or his own. I had to repeatedly clarify myself before he understood I was telling him I love him."

The ridiculous man thought he was in love with Elendira. He really ought to never let him live that down.

Legato mentioning that he knows both versions of Vash catches Rem a bit off guard. She'd been running under the assumption that he only knew her Vash, and that he was the only one who died today. A weird mix of emotions fills her chest when she thinks about both of them being taken from her in one fell swoop, but she doesn't dwell on it. Not that she really has time to. Legato moves on and everything he says really does make things worse.

It's even more to unpack, and she knows even less where to start. To buy herself more time, she grabs the glass of water, satisfied that his face is clean enough now that there's little worry of the blood getting into it. "Drink this," She says with a soft sigh.

"It's very kind of you to say someone like me, but I would reserve your judgement. You don't know anything about me. Frankly I have enough self-awareness to know that picking up a random stranger off the street to go home with them and give them a bath may be virtuous, but it's not necessarily the marker of someone who's all put together," She laughs softly at the absurdity of the situation, to avoid thinking too hard about it beyond that. Self-awareness doesn't have to come with self-refleciton.

"Not being human doesn't make someone or something better than you, Legato. You're just as important as he is, and any special treatment you think he deserves, you deserve, too." A pause, as she considers how much more she wants to say, and then she ends with a question, "What do you mean by dense?"

[deadlydevotion]

He's not sure why a therapist would be scary but from the politely blank look on his face he doesn't even know what she's talking about. He'll just look it up later. Its appropriate, he supposes, that he gets homework from her as well as Vash. It just emphasizes the amount of things he has no idea about, whether through lack of access to information or disinterest in looking.

"I believe I'm.... present enough to finish cleaning up myself," he says instead of admitting his lack of knowledge out loud. "Thank you, for taking the time to help me. Especially since..." he presses his lips together. He doesn't want to verbally remind them both where the blood actually came from.

"Thank you."

He twitches a little when she brushes over the scar Knives gave him but otherwise only obediently tips his head up to let her do as she will. He doesn't have any inclination to fight the care.

It feels nice, to be cared for without any expectations of him. He'll bask in it while he can, before someone has a chance to fill her in on who he is.

He's wisely going to stop talking about his relationship with Knives though. He's at least self aware enough that their whole... thing is a mess, even if it is still getting much better. It's better then where they started and its the only thing he wants regardless.

"It wasn't long ago that everyone was considered better then me. Its a difficult mindset to unlearn. Your son has been helping me work through a great deal of things like that."

[amoirsetpacis]

★ --;; She manages to get another smile out of him, even if it's shaped around another watery sniff, half-hearted and wobbly around the edges, not quite entirely there. What a picture the two of them must be painting; a full grown man crying like a child in front of the woman he now nearly looks the same age as, smiling at him. He's again reminded of how young she must have been, back then, raising the both of them. He's halfway tempted to ask, but decides against it.

"S' just manners," he breathes out on a weak laugh, the gloved meat of his palm still trying to rub away at the wet tracks on his face. It's not much use-- only serves to leave a streak of dirt across his cheekbone. "She made double sure that we used 'em, ya' know."

He still can't really look at her. It's only ever out of the side of his vision or with his eyes pointed at both of their feet. It feels like he can't escape the spiral of guilt, ugly in his chest; it's there because he can't look and he knows it would still be there if he did look anyway.

This dancing around and around each other in circles about anything beneath the surface is so wildly different from his first encounter with his younger self. A part of Vash hates it. A part of him is grateful for it. He's not sure which is larger; does know that they both stem from that same place of cowardice.

"A-- a while, yeah. A couple of months. In n' out a few times, too. Um." He sighs deeply, as if willing the words out from the bottom of his lungs. At least the tears have finally slowed to something far more manageable, his voice not wavering quite so much. "I know it's a joke, but-- it's not narcissism. If you're anything like her, it's just because you care."

"You're welcome, but you don't need to thank me, Vash. If your mother is anything like me, you should know that. I'm happy to help in any way I can," Rem replies with her usual grace; a kind, welcoming smile, despite the sadness that clings to her like a shadow.

It does nothing to reflect the way her heart creaks and aches. Twice now, she's been pushed away by some version of her son. The elder's reaction is less extreme, but that almost makes it worse. It leaves Rem to wonder if he feels the same way that her Vash did. If the only reason for his claims is some misplaced guilt over her death. Guilt settles in her gut like a lead weight, but she hides it well. She's always been good at hiding her guilt.

"It's tempting to ask about her, but we can save that for another time. I'll spare you my narcissism for now," Rem continues, giving Vash a mischievous wink, "Have you been here long? It's only been a month for me, I'm still trying to figure out how to navigate everything."

There's so many questions she would like to ask, but it seems safer to guide the conversation away from the past of their world to this place where they share no history.

[drunkelreporter]

When he was younger. Someone from that Home ship maybe? They seemed to like Vash quite a bit there, Luida clearly leaning motherly and that Brad fellow awfully defensive of him behind all the bluster about not liking him.

Kind of like Wolfwood in that regard.

But. Not understanding the man he grew up to be was odd. Sure, he got the impression Vash didn't visit half as often as Brad and Luida wished he would but they definitely knew him as an adult. That makes him think she's not from that ship, that she's from somewhere else but honestly, where else could she be from?

From before the Fall?

Meryl wasn't the only one paying attention to the glorified pile of bugs chatter about the twins supposedly causing the Fall and given that the group knew for a fact that Vash was a Plant it wasn't as surprising at that point to learn the two had been alive that long. Someone else could have known them from before that point and-

Would this Rem have died in the Fall? Vash had never mentioned the name.

He lets all these thoughts flow through his head before he taps out a reply.

[Txt] He is a sweet kid but trouble likes to follow him around. You must have known him for a long time if you were there when he was younger. Bet he was a pain to chase around as a kid.

He taps his fingers on the phone for a moment before tapping out another message.

[Txt] I'd be willing to meet up to talk. I prefer knowing the face of the person asking about the kid, if you don't mind.

Roberto's reply brings with it a variety of emotions. It's good to know that there's "quite a few people" who know Vash, and that they would speak positively about him despite the circumstances. It also hurts to know that witch hunts were clearly common enough for the man to need to lead with a warning about it.

The thought reminds her of the way Vash broke down blaming himself for her death. No doubt he felt the same way about what happened. Even less doubt that it's exactly why he hasn't and won't talk to her about it.

[txt] I'm from the same world as Vash. I knew him when he was younger. I know what a sweet boy he is, but he won't talk to me. He's clearly carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and I want to understand the man he's grown up to be.

For the most part, it's the truth. All of the important points are there, at least. Rem leaves out explicitly stating that she's his mother, though, just in case. She's not naive enough to not realize how that might be used against Vash.

[txt] If he won't open up to me, then I'll just have to play detective. (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[gunsmokeheart-a]

Zazie's spy bug spots Rem well before Rem approaches. An unattended, young-looking human gets some looks, but usually people don't approach them so long as Zazie doesn't look like they're in trouble. They expect the woman will move on eventually, but then she approaches them.

Tilting their head, Zazie looks up at Rem, then holds up their palms, showing the mess they've made from digging around. "Dirt," Zazie says. "What are you up to?"

With little else going for her since her arrival in Spirale, Rem often finds herself passing the time by picking a direction and just walking. At some point, she'll need to find herself a job or, at the very least, something more productive to spend her time doing, but that's an issue for future Rem to deal with.

During today's trek, she crosses paths with a little fellow messing around in the dirt. It actually looks like quite a lot of fun, but Rem restrains herself and just watches with mild amusement. For a little while. Eventually she caves and wanders over to crouch down next to the other person.

"Hello there," She greets with a friendly smile, "What are you up to?"

@gunsmokeheart

[blankticket]

It doesn't go past Vash to realize that this is the same sentiment he'd tried to console his older self with; this must be how it felt to be told 'no matter what', to be given unbelievable forgiveness where he'd forsaken the very chance of it.

The contact is enough to jolt him into silence.

Rem's voice is so precious and so valued that it breaks through his rushing thoughts, the echo of the story reverberating alone into his soul. Her child gasps, in quiet shock, with painful recognition that he's making her cry, making her plead.

"I…! I'm sorry, I'm here, I'm here, I'm right here," he says, weak voice thick with emotion. With the hand that isn't being held, he hugs Rem, feeling a fool for not leaping at the chance to hold her to begin with.

How could he expect anything like this to be possible? Rem's real presence is causing the start of a collapse in all the grief he'd clung to in her stead; shattering the illusion of an idealized version of her that he'd been using as a crutch for purpose, for enduring pain, for living. It's euphoric as much as it is terrifying that she lives. The tears won't stop.

"Rem…" his voice croaks, breaking again. Vash wants to say sorry over and over, he wants to say thank you, he wants to be capable of doing something that'll keep her safe. He couldn't even get himself to stay with Naï, hasn't done a thing to stop his brother or get him to change his ways. There was so much suffering to be had by all for what he'd done. The words die in his chest.

Another dud.

At every turn nothing Rem says seems to provide Vash with any comfort. She searches his face for any hint of what magic words might ease his pain, but at some point she has to admit that they may simply not exist. The words all this time stick out to Rem and she wonders what he's seen and what he's had to do to survive. Without knowing that… There's no way to know how to truly comfort him, but Vash is so reluctant to let her in again. It feels like such an impossible situation, and she hates it.

"Because you're my child, Vash, it's really that simple," Rem answers first, shifting to rest her forehead against his. She lets a quiet linger between them just long enough to give her words time to sink in, but not long enough for Vash to speak.

"Do you remember that story I told you? The one about my dream with the train and the blank ticket? It's still as true now as it was then." Rem can feel the warmth of tears stinging at the corners of her eyes, and she closes them as if it might delay the inevitable. "Regardless of who's to blame: you, me, Nai, some of us or all of us, or even the universe itself… The important thing is what you do with your future, Vash. Despite it all, our tickets are still blank."

The memory of the last time they had this conversation, and the weight of all the emotions Rem's been suppressing finally gets to her and the tears begin to fall. "I still want to see the world with you. Please…" Her voice waivers and she bites back a sob, "Please don't push me away, I don't want to lose you. My perfect boy."

[blankticket]

The messages ignite panic in his chest, bright and blazing so hot it's strange that the flames aren't tangible; the intensity of it barely lessens throughout the agonizing stretch of time it takes texting with the man mentioned. There's too much to think about, too much to feel all at once. His thoughts are a mess of wailing warnings and nauseating epiphanies. It's too loud; it's not loud enough.

"No, no," Vash is muttering quietly into his sleeve, rubbing his forehead into his arm. He's killed Rem, left her behind, forced her to clean up his own guts off of his friend. No wonder she hadn't listened, after all. As if he's deserving of that trust, her pride, her concern, her love.

...He doesn't text back.

Cont from here w/ @blankticket

It didn't turn out to be anything big after all.

Rem reads the words about a dozen times, and each time hurts just as much as the last. Even if there were some cosmic guide to being a parent, Rem's not sure there would be a chapter that covers something like this. Vash died and came back and he didn't think that was something he could tell her. Rem knows, of course, that children will have their secrets, but doesn't he know that she's always happy to comfort him? Even if he didn't want to tell her, he could have come to her for comfort, but he didn't and she can't fathom why.

It's that uncertainty that gives her pause. She can't just sit alone with the knowledge, but she also doesn't want to force the issue and cause more hurt than help. Rem labors over it for over a day before she finally sends Vash another series of texts.

[txt] Oh, I forgot to mention! [txt] I met a man named Legato the other day. It was the day you were having your troubles, actually. [txt] He told me you were his friend and that you're helping him out. Which… I mean the nicest way possible, but he seems like he needs it. [txt] Proud of u! [txt] But make sure you take care of yourself, too!!! (っ´ω`)ﾉ(╥ω╥)

A bit of pot calling the kettle black there at the end, but hopefully enough to give a hint she might know what happened. If it is, maybe it'll break the ice enough for him to open up about it. If not, it's at least a reminder to take care of himself.

[deadlydevotion]

".... I'm making this worse." He pulls his face away from her hands but only so he can tuck it down against his knees and make a muffled frustrated noise. He doesn't know what to say to her to make any of this make sense except to tell her the truth about the situation, which more then likely no one will appreciate. That would absolutely be one way to make everyone dislike him even more then they already do.

He's doubtless already said too much.

"I don't know how much I should tell you or how much it will matter if I do," he says to his knees. "Neither Vash will be happy that I've spoken with you this much. Every time I make an attempt to improve the situation I make things worse. I got them killed and now they'll all be angry when they come back."

He just wants someone to talk to, someone with a half decent grasp of how to be a person and maybe someone who actually knows how a relationship should function but now he's gone and made things complicated. He muffles a frustrated growl against his arm and resists the urge to dig his nails into familiar scars on his biceps.

"Things between us have been getting better." He says almost fiercely, trying to figure out how to get her to understand without just telling her everything. She doesn't know he's from a different but adjacent world as Vash is and there's plenty of nonhumans here. That should be safe enough. "Knives isn't... he's not human. He's always been better then humans, thus me. Neither of us have liked humans in the past. Things were done to me in my very early life that.... I can't forget or shake off. He saved me and he was above me in more then one way. That gap has been shrinking rapidly but it's... it's only been a few months here. I served him for a decade. Our relationship is complicated but getting better and I love him more then anything. Even if he's a bit... dense in that regard." He sighs and picks up his head again to give her a tired look.

"I'm sorry. Your son has befriended a very broken man among broken people. We must all sound like a disaster to someone like you."

"Odd is one way to put it," Rem answers with a polite laugh. The more Legato talks, the less codependency seems to be the biggest problem with whatever he has going on with Knives. Rem wants to give him the benefit of the doubt that it's a product of whatever world Legato comes from. She really does, and she's really not one to judge, but… Well, she's definitely judging now.

"Legato, um…" God, where does she even start unpacking all of that. The right answer is probably to tell Legato to see a therapist and backpedal out of the conversation, but that doesn't really feel like it'll be helpful in this moment. It sounds like he needs something to hold onto, but she's not sure what to give him.

"You… You really shouldn't view someone as better than you or that you're bringing them down to your level. Especially not a partner… Relationships should be based on equality." She hesitates, then frowns a little, "Does Knives think he's better than you?"

[deadlydevotion]

".... I don't know what I want. I've not been... allowed to want before." He hums. "I've been no more or less then a weapon and tool my whole life. I don't know what I want now." He chews on that for a bit as gentle fingers remove the splattered blood from his face and the fall of water washes it away. His hair has turned several shades darker blue and plasters itself to his skull, preventing him from hiding behind it now even if he wanted to remove his face from her hands.

"I want to stay here with Knives and love him in whatever way he'll let me. But I don't know what else I want. There's... too many options." He sighs and leans his face into her hands slightly.

"I don't want to be the monster that killed them. I don't want to let the cracks deepen enough to swallow me whole like that."

It's impossible to know what kind of life Legato lived just from looking at him. Rem hasn't even caught on that the two of them come from the same universe slightly removed. Neither Vash seemed particularly interested in speaking about what they've gone through, and she hadn't yet grown to feel like she had any right to ask. Or maybe she selfishly didn't want to know. No doubt she would feel some level of guilt over it. For leaving Vash and Nai alone with humans they may not have been ready to integrate with.

"Mm…" Rem hums lightly as she rubs a spot under Legato's eye with her rag-wrapped thumb. "Can I tell you a secret?" She asks with a conspiratorial smile, but she doesn't leave room for Legato to answer. "Nobody knows how to be a person. We're all just scrambling to find a way to make it through this thing we call life. I have no idea what I'm doing, but what I do know is if I'm going to be here I want to put more kindness into the world than before I was here."

"Forgetting about being a person, or Vash, or hurting, or anything else. What do you want to be able to say at the end of it all? Do you want to say you were kind? Smart? Strong? Or maybe something like… That you've eaten every kind of pizza there is."

[deadlydevotion]

He doesn't move as the water starts up or as she adjusts it to fall on him proper, letting warm water wash over him without complaint or comment. The runoff tints pink near immediately, dragging some of the tacky blood from his skin and down the drain, away.

"I've been hurting my whole life, its nothing new," he says softly and only closes his eyes to avoid getting soap in them, though he doesn't think she'd allow that. He's pliant and obedient in her hands as she cleans the blood from his face, tilting this way and that as she needs him to with hardly any pressure required. Used to being guided.

Its not like when Knives had first taken him back to the Ark and Conrad had cleaned him up. That was clinical and efficient, a throurough scrubbing down that left his skin clean but raw. This is gentle and soft, so so careful with him like he's made of porcelain that's liable to shatter to pieces. He didn't know he needed this.

"Its hard," he chokes. "All I've had is hate and fear for so long. I don't know how to be a person yet, I don't know how to want to live. And now a future I haven't yet remembered may destroy what little progress I've made. I don't know if I can pick up the pieces if it has."

Seeing Legato smile does a lot to boost Rem's mood. It's a sign that she's doing something right. Even if it's followed by the man trying to push her away and minimize his worth again. Before she continues she warns him that she's going to switch on the shower head. It's not quite falling on Legato, so she stands, adjusts it and then settles back down at his side.

"Who said so?" Rem asks, grabbing one of the rags she brought in and wetting it, "What's right is taking care of each other. Maybe we've just met, but you're hurting and I'm able to listen. It doesn't need to be any more complicated than that."

Satisfied with how wet the rag is, she grabs some soap and lathers it into the fabric before gently placing one hand on the back of Legato's head to guide and support it as she tries to clean the blood off of his face.

"You were saying that you don't think Vash understood how broken you were, but it doesn't matter. I didn't raise him to care about that sort of thing. Broken as you may be, you're still here. As long as you're still breathing, you can pick up those pieces and find ways to fill those cracks, or, at the very least, learn to live around them."

[deadlydevotion]

"The same as me then." A tiny smile cracks through for a moment, distracted and pulled partly out of the fog by reassuring her instead. Hmm. Is that why she'd been so focused on him? A distraction from her own grief? He'll take being a distraction honestly, considering all the other possible outcomes.

"I shouldn't. We've only just met, I shouldn't be laying my sins at your feet. It's not right." Is it better or worse that so many of them were committed in service to a version of her other son? Worse, probably.

"You should...." he wants to tell her that she should go, that she should worry about her own reaction to the news, something. But the words get caught in his throat because now he's thought of Knives and been reminded that he's entirely alone with the trauma of the morning and he selfishly doesn't want to be. He wants company and he wants help but he doesn't know how to ask or think he deserves to. So he just closes his mouth and tips his head to hide behind messy, bloodied bangs and hopes she won't go still.

There's a slight hitch in Rem's breathing as she's hit with a sense of vertigo when Legato explains the rules of Spirale. It's an unbelievable claim made believable by the nature of this world. If it could bring her here from the brink and harbor two versions of her son then why would it be bound by the laws of life and death she thought were so certain.

It's the straw that breaks the camel's back, so to speak. As relief quickly overtakes grief, tears well up in the corners of Rem's eyes and are soon falling down her cheeks. "Sorry," She laughs softly, using her free hand to wipe at the tears. "No, no I didn't know. I've only been here a couple of months, I'm still learning how all of this works." Rem inhales, then exhales with another laugh. It's the only thing keeping her from sobbing.

"I've always been good in a crisis, it's no big deal," She explains. It is a big deal. One big messy coping mechanism sized deal. "Anyway. Sorry, we were- You were talking about you, I didn't mean to derail."

That was all that needed to be said about her.

[deadlydevotion]

He lowers his hand enough to peek through at her, brows drawn together in confusion. Why wouldn't he? They're practically neighbors, even if Vash shuns him he'll at least see him around-

"Oh. Oh you don't know," he breathes, brows shooting up in alarm. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew, you were... too calm for not knowing." He drops his hand entirely and reaches for hers, a mix of regret and wonder on his face now that he realizes the pure strength of this woman.

"He'll be back, death is temporary here. It is painful, agonizing really, but he'll be back tomorrow. He's the one that told me and I've died before myself, I thought you knew." Too calm by half for losing her son what she thought was permanently. How could she manage to focus so much on him when she should have been mourning her child?

"You are... stronger then I thought even, for being able to manage like this. I can't. I can't even focus when I know he'll be back."

As Legato speaks, Rem finishes cleaning off the last of Legato's hand. It will need some first aid, but that will come after the shower. Testing the water with her hand, she's fairly satisfied with the temperature, but she decides to wait until Legato's finished talking before switching it over to the shower head.

Before she can, Rem is once again given pause. There he was again, talking as if there's some chance he might see Vash again as if all of this guilt wasn't over killing him. The dead don't come back, but Legato seems so certain.

"Legato," Rem asks gently, "Why… do you think you'll see Vash again?"

[deadlydevotion]

If he was a bit smaller he'd look more like a child then a man, sitting dazedly in the bathtub with his knees pulled up to his chest, picking at his bleeding hand. Were it not for the tacky blood spattered on his face and arms and chest.

He looks up at her through his fringe as she kneels beside the tub and takes his hand to remove what he hadn't gotten out. Her hands are kind when she has no reason to be so, when she doesn't know a thing about him, when she doesn't have any reason to be gentle to a stranger covered in her son's blood. Maybe it's because he said it was his friend's blood first, before he told her it was Vash's.

"I killed him," He says quietly. "A... future me. He made me shoot Vash, point blank with Stampede's gun. I saw him, in the mirror." Both an answer to the question about his hand and how it had happened and why he was... like this.

As Rem comes in, and her eyes first settle on Legato, she's given a bit of pause. It's not the worst sight she's ever seen, but it's not one she ever expected to. If she gave herself the time to fully process it, she might register how bizarre it is, but she doesn't. Instead, she worries about the way he's picking at his hand, and the broken mirror. It's not hard to put two and two together.

"I brought you water, but lets get your face cleaned up a bit first," She says, maintaining her cool as she approaches the tub and sets the glass down on the edge. The rest of the things she's carrying get set down on the ground as she gets on her knees and moves to first turn on the faucet just enough to get water running while they wait for it to heat up a bit.

"What happened to your hand?" Rem asks softly, as she reaches out to take over picking out the bits and cleaning it up. It's left basic, leaving room for Legato to state the obvious or elaborate on the why more than the what.