[Foster doesn't even flinch at Guzma's hostility, but not because he's unaware of it. There's no missing that level of disgust or venom. It's actually... refreshing, but also very much expected, and he blinks slowly, measuring his thoughts more clearly in that context.]

It was a mistake. Everything was... a mistake. All of it. No, not all of it--just enough of it.

[He pauses.]

Also, he didn't have a tongue. Or a throat, actually. But I didn't give Mimikyu away. I just didn't stop him.

[Then, bitterly:]

.... I didn't expect it to matter.

[That was... a particularly low point, his time in 'jail.' A catastrophic failure to realise his purpose made far worse by his having lived through it. And then what? Pitied by the Psiionic, ignored and dismissed by the intended recipient of his message...]

Mmmmm.

[He makes a low, pensive sound as he ruminates on everything that went wrong, everything he should not have done, everything he should have done, his mood dropping further as his thoughts continue down that particular spiral.

He would never say as much in his own defence, because of course there is no defending garbage--

But he did try to get it back. He shouldn't have, really. He should have known better! But he was nothing if not irredeemably stupid. He could hardly have been expected to do anything right.

Which is, for Foster, the kind of recurring reminder that that relieves his mood rather than worsens it. Everything is... as it should be, in its way. He can't expect to have done it right. Not just that one thing. He can't do anything right. In retrospect, his hubris was remarkable... and his failure was only to be expected. Trying to get Mimikyu back? Because, what? He wanted it?

He truly was stupid.]