For a long moment, Gaster remains motionless, looking down at the former monster with a strange mix of emotions curling in his soul. Something like a foreign sense of familiarity nags at the back of his mind.
"...I'M SORRY," he says, settling down into something like a kneel. Meaningless, far-fetched platitudes arise briefly; I'LL FIX IT. I'LL GIVE IT BACK, AFTER, like a soul was something freely mutable and transferable, or even something they truly understood. He says neither.
"I DON'T WANT TO DISAPPEAR AGAIN."
Reach in, or draw it out. A steady pulse of warmth that, even for its dwindling resistance and hope, promises to chase away the hollowness in his being. Most of the active magic around them fades away as he lets go of it, his focus narrowing down to what's in front of him.
He reaches in, incorporeality allowing it. His touch is numbing, not in pins and needles, but in the momentary flicker of static before sensation dies to nothing at all.
It hurts, and quietly a part of him thinks, good, but he can spare Sans this much, at least. Like a bandage on a compound fracture; steal his pain before stealing something else, like a parasite pretending mutualism. Sans keeps expecting him to be someone he's probably not, and he's not sure whether it's that or the desperate faith in him that hurts more. But whoever he is, he won't go out of his way to be cruel. Whoever Sans sees when he looks at Gaster was similar enough that they could be confused, so he wasn't going-- to--
Painful resonance seizes him, Gaster jerking backwards and collapsing in on himself with a piercing, pained shriek.
No. No. No no no no. Sans was right. He can't do this. He would never do this. Never at such a cost to others. Always pleaded for them to forget him, even against his own wishes and desires (don't forget).
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i was asking for that wasn't i
Date: 2016-10-28 06:39 pm (UTC)"...I'M SORRY," he says, settling down into something like a kneel. Meaningless, far-fetched platitudes arise briefly; I'LL FIX IT. I'LL GIVE IT BACK, AFTER, like a soul was something freely mutable and transferable, or even something they truly understood. He says neither.
"I DON'T WANT TO DISAPPEAR AGAIN."
Reach in, or draw it out. A steady pulse of warmth that, even for its dwindling resistance and hope, promises to chase away the hollowness in his being. Most of the active magic around them fades away as he lets go of it, his focus narrowing down to what's in front of him.
He reaches in, incorporeality allowing it. His touch is numbing, not in pins and needles, but in the momentary flicker of static before sensation dies to nothing at all.
It hurts, and quietly a part of him thinks, good, but he can spare Sans this much, at least. Like a bandage on a compound fracture; steal his pain before stealing something else, like a parasite pretending mutualism. Sans keeps expecting him to be someone he's probably not, and he's not sure whether it's that or the desperate faith in him that hurts more. But whoever he is, he won't go out of his way to be cruel. Whoever Sans sees when he looks at Gaster was similar enough that they could be confused, so he wasn't going-- to--
Painful resonance seizes him, Gaster jerking backwards and collapsing in on himself with a piercing, pained shriek.
No. No. No no no no. Sans was right. He can't do this. He would never do this. Never at such a cost to others. Always pleaded for them to forget him, even against his own wishes and desires (don't forget).