Entry tags:
Room 021 [accidental video]
[It's been a while since the mumbly photographer has posted to the network, and if he was aware of what he was doing, it would be a longer while yet.]
[The scene is dark and the soft sound of sleeping people and pokemon can be heard. The only light comes from Henry's poke'gear and it illuminates his un-shaven face. He's hunkered down in his sleeping bag and idly scrolling through the network.]
[He looks about like anyone surfing the poke'net. He is very still, save for scratching under his nose on occasion or readjusting his grip on the gear. He is very quiet. He smiles once in a while as he reads something amusing.]
[Then that silence is broken by a Profound Late Night Henry Thought.]
What if we sound the same to pokemon as they sound to us. So all our pokemon really hear when we talk to them is... Jason Jason Jason. Jason Jason. Jason.
[Henry falls silent again and starts his network surfing again when a groggy writer scolds him from off screen.]
Henry, go to sleep.
[Henry's face blanks and he glances to one side and tries his very very best to act like he hadn't just been talking to himself and was, in fact, actually asleep. Then his face is obscured by a pillow being wielded by a pair of scrawny, freckled arms. The feed cuts with an "UMPF!"]
[The scene is dark and the soft sound of sleeping people and pokemon can be heard. The only light comes from Henry's poke'gear and it illuminates his un-shaven face. He's hunkered down in his sleeping bag and idly scrolling through the network.]
[He looks about like anyone surfing the poke'net. He is very still, save for scratching under his nose on occasion or readjusting his grip on the gear. He is very quiet. He smiles once in a while as he reads something amusing.]
[Then that silence is broken by a Profound Late Night Henry Thought.]
What if we sound the same to pokemon as they sound to us. So all our pokemon really hear when we talk to them is... Jason Jason Jason. Jason Jason. Jason.
[Henry falls silent again and starts his network surfing again when a groggy writer scolds him from off screen.]
Henry, go to sleep.
[Henry's face blanks and he glances to one side and tries his very very best to act like he hadn't just been talking to himself and was, in fact, actually asleep. Then his face is obscured by a pillow being wielded by a pair of scrawny, freckled arms. The feed cuts with an "UMPF!"]
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}