Dr. Stanford Pines (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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victory_road2017-09-28 05:25 am
meteorman) wrote in victory_road2017-09-28 05:25 am
[video]
[This transmission comes through late in the day on the 28th. The frame shows a tiny hotel room -- there's not much room in it for more than a bedside table, a tv stand, a tiny chair, and a bed with a truly horrendous Comfey flower pattern duvet. Through the window the Saffron skyline is silhouetted against the setting sun.
There are five Pokémon and their trainer sandwiched into this room, though it's hard to spot all of them immediately. Fay the Zoroark is easiest to see where she's curled up at the foot of the bed, but it's more difficult to spot Alice the Gothita where he's tucked into her mane. The only thing that gives Alice away is his luminous eyes reflecting the light from the television. The Togepi that Ford has taken to calling Kid (since he got too used to the phrase 'don't cry, kid' and thinks it's his name now) is sleeping in the chair, blessedly quiet for once. Fantastic Mr. Fox's nine yellow tails are visible on the other side of the bed where he's snoozing on the floor.
But wait. That's only four -- and Ford, who's sitting next to Fay and looking at the camera with an expression of barely-restrained excitement.]
Greetings, all! I have some marvelous news. Today I --
[The helmeted head of a Type: Null pops up out of the pillows at the head of the bed. The pillows do not move. The Null's neck is just sort of sticking out of them like a badly-clipped model in a jenky video game. It notices the 'gear and pulls itself up out of the bed, like somehow its feet only realize the bed is solid when they've come down on it from above. Each one does that doggy paw waggle before the Null sets it down. You know the one. It settles itself in next to Ford with its head against his shoulder (or as against his shoulder as it can be with that helm) and peers at the screen. The bed creaks under the weight of two fairly-large Pokémon and one old man).]
Yes, yes, hello. [He redirects his attention back at the screen.] Given that I meet the badge requirement I applied for a Type: Null. MIPS here is a Ghost type, and thus-far has displayed the remarkable ability to swap between corporeal and intangible states.
[Not always on purpose, but Ford doesn't say that. Let him talk up his Frankenstein doggo. He also doesn't want to invite more people yelling about how Nulls are defective and don't deserve to exist because he will fight every one of them personally bare-knuckled in the pit.]
My goal here is to research a type of Pokémon that is as of yet relatively unknown. What we know already comes down to code that was written in a vacuum; I intend to study MIPS as a Pokémon, a social creature meant to interact with the world around it to learn and grow.
[While he talks, MIPS is slowly sinking down through the duvet. There it goes. Its folded front claws poke out through the side of the bed, just visible at the bottom of the frame.]
Which all leads me to a question: are there quintessential experiences you think a Pokémon should have? Battling is the standard answer, but I'm looking for other ideas. MIPS will be doing much of its exploration of the world around it organically, but finding positive novel stimulus to expose it to occasionally can only help.
[Just the top of MIPS' helmet sticks out above the bedsheets now. Ford gives it an encouraging pat, which only kind of half works what with it being intangible. The feed cuts.]
There are five Pokémon and their trainer sandwiched into this room, though it's hard to spot all of them immediately. Fay the Zoroark is easiest to see where she's curled up at the foot of the bed, but it's more difficult to spot Alice the Gothita where he's tucked into her mane. The only thing that gives Alice away is his luminous eyes reflecting the light from the television. The Togepi that Ford has taken to calling Kid (since he got too used to the phrase 'don't cry, kid' and thinks it's his name now) is sleeping in the chair, blessedly quiet for once. Fantastic Mr. Fox's nine yellow tails are visible on the other side of the bed where he's snoozing on the floor.
But wait. That's only four -- and Ford, who's sitting next to Fay and looking at the camera with an expression of barely-restrained excitement.]
Greetings, all! I have some marvelous news. Today I --
[The helmeted head of a Type: Null pops up out of the pillows at the head of the bed. The pillows do not move. The Null's neck is just sort of sticking out of them like a badly-clipped model in a jenky video game. It notices the 'gear and pulls itself up out of the bed, like somehow its feet only realize the bed is solid when they've come down on it from above. Each one does that doggy paw waggle before the Null sets it down. You know the one. It settles itself in next to Ford with its head against his shoulder (or as against his shoulder as it can be with that helm) and peers at the screen. The bed creaks under the weight of two fairly-large Pokémon and one old man).]
Yes, yes, hello. [He redirects his attention back at the screen.] Given that I meet the badge requirement I applied for a Type: Null. MIPS here is a Ghost type, and thus-far has displayed the remarkable ability to swap between corporeal and intangible states.
[Not always on purpose, but Ford doesn't say that. Let him talk up his Frankenstein doggo. He also doesn't want to invite more people yelling about how Nulls are defective and don't deserve to exist because he will fight every one of them personally bare-knuckled in the pit.]
My goal here is to research a type of Pokémon that is as of yet relatively unknown. What we know already comes down to code that was written in a vacuum; I intend to study MIPS as a Pokémon, a social creature meant to interact with the world around it to learn and grow.
[While he talks, MIPS is slowly sinking down through the duvet. There it goes. Its folded front claws poke out through the side of the bed, just visible at the bottom of the frame.]
Which all leads me to a question: are there quintessential experiences you think a Pokémon should have? Battling is the standard answer, but I'm looking for other ideas. MIPS will be doing much of its exploration of the world around it organically, but finding positive novel stimulus to expose it to occasionally can only help.
[Just the top of MIPS' helmet sticks out above the bedsheets now. Ford gives it an encouraging pat, which only kind of half works what with it being intangible. The feed cuts.]
[Video]
A Type: Null, you said?
no subject
[The noise MIPS makes in response to Queenie is a kind of high-pitched fast paced yipping -- mipping, if you will, somewhere squarely between a bark and a beep.]
no subject
So they are a human-engineered Pokemon.
[Newt will never understand why people are so invested in creating new creatures when there are so many already around them but he would never hold it against the creature themselves.
Especially one so cute.
Queenie giggles and attempts to mimic the sound MIPS made earning a chuckle from Newt.]
Do you have any idea what Pokemon were used to create it or are they tight lipped on the subject?
no subject
Does that follow?
no subject
It does, yes. Essentially they were looking to create something representative of each of the known Pokemon type groups in order to have something that can utilize the full potential of said groups.
I have to wonder what was sacrificed in doing so, though.
[Obviously there are quirks but was there anything else?]
no subject
[That's... ominous, my dude.]
no subject