Foster doesn't look away from Herbert, doesn't dare break his gaze, but he feels inside of him an energy or nausea, barely notices his own shiver. A shiver, yes--of what, he doesn't know. It doesn't matter.
Good feelings. Bad feelings. It's feeling. And there it is, that feeling, that craving and cure he missed so deeply that he betrayed himself and his god(?) searching for it in all the wrong places, taking the raw flesh, the bared meat of his rotten purpose and sculpting it over and over, only for it to turn to ash in his hands claws. Again and again, by himself, trying to force the blood to the surface, but no stone large enough, no fragment of earth thrown uselessly into the ocean, rock after pebble after boulder after ruin. Alone on the precipice, screaming pointlessly back into the waves and wind as it crumbles beneath him, and ever but taking up the pieces of its ledge and casting them out ever further--
What a fool!
Because of course his design was never meant to succeed itself, but was meant to serve--
Even (or perhaps especially) in his compromised state, Foster is aware that he may never get another chance. Probably will never get this chance. He's waited--searched, tried to create this chance his whole wretched, pathetic, desperate life.
And now in this man, in this form, anathema--
He laughs, and briefly shudders in laughing, as though shaking out a chill of cold, or euphoria, or something--a feeling of visceral intensity so bordering on the obscene that it forces a physical response.
"You'll only ever get one chance," he slurs it a bit, but it's also not really clear if he's addressing himself or Herbert. It probably doesn't matter.
"Who--who am I to deny? That design... the deepest of devotions to your God, to my purpose, pour it out of me, into me. Fill me with your serum! Do it! Do it. I don't exist yet, but I can! I don't exist yet--" He makes another effort to rise off the bed, like an idiot-by all appearances, he might be trying to walk to Herbert. He hangs onto the bed post instead, staring into Herbert's eyes with what is either the intensity of a threat or the excitement of a promise.
no subject
Good feelings. Bad feelings. It's feeling. And there it is, that feeling, that craving and cure he missed so deeply that he betrayed himself and his god(?) searching for it in all the wrong places, taking the raw flesh, the bared meat of his rotten purpose and sculpting it over and over, only for it to turn to ash in his
handsclaws. Again and again, by himself, trying to force the blood to the surface, but no stone large enough, no fragment of earth thrown uselessly into the ocean, rock after pebble after boulder after ruin. Alone on the precipice, screaming pointlessly back into the waves and wind as it crumbles beneath him, and ever but taking up the pieces of its ledge and casting them out ever further--What a fool!
Because of course his design was never meant to succeed itself, but was meant to serve--
Even (or perhaps especially) in his compromised state, Foster is aware that he may never get another chance. Probably will never get this chance. He's waited--searched, tried to create this chance his whole wretched, pathetic, desperate life.
And now in this man, in this form, anathema--
He laughs, and briefly shudders in laughing, as though shaking out a chill of cold, or euphoria, or something--a feeling of visceral intensity so bordering on the obscene that it forces a physical response.
"You'll only ever get one chance," he slurs it a bit, but it's also not really clear if he's addressing himself or Herbert. It probably doesn't matter.
"Who--who am I to deny? That design... the deepest of devotions to your God, to my purpose, pour it out of me, into me. Fill me with your serum! Do it! Do it. I don't exist yet, but I can! I don't exist yet--" He makes another effort to rise off the bed, like an idiot-by all appearances, he might be trying to walk to Herbert. He hangs onto the bed post instead, staring into Herbert's eyes with what is either the intensity of a threat or the excitement of a promise.
"But I can."