Venturing out into the hustle and bustle of Clubs was always something akin to an adventure. Bastion was something of a recluse compared to a lot of the people that lived in Clubs, opting to stay within his home as opposed to going out and entertaining or being entertained. This was due to the fact that the Empoleon was an artist, thrived on creating beautiful things, thus he had no time for casinos or loud music. He’d also believed that he was also far too busy for a child, but, one night, when he was walking home carrying his heavy portfolio, he happened to see something... Odd.

It wasn’t often that Bastion was perplexed by something, but seeing a shimmery egg covered in flickering blue flames perched precariously in a pot of flowers was a sight that would make many double-take. Frowning he peered up at the egg, one which had the... Oddest of expressions painted on it and strange little ears to accompany it. Bastion glanced up and down the street and saw nobody, really, especially not anyone that would have left an egg in a flower basket at odd hours of the morning. Either someone had abandoned it there after attempting to care for it or... It had decided to materialize in one of the strangest and most difficult to spot places it could.

There was something about the way this egg looked, however, that made Bastion feel drawn to it, made him glance down at his portfolio, then back up at the egg before setting the leather case gently aside, leaning against a short fencepost. It took almost all of his height, but he managed to stand up on the tips of his toes to retrieve the egg, pleasantly surprised when the blue flames were simply warm, didn’t burn. That was when a few things clicked in his mind, causing him to smile hesitantly as he slowly turned the egg over in his hands, admiring the changing colors and the sheer... Peculiarity of the entire situation.

“Well.” Bastion murmured to himself, looking thoughtful. “I do have that spare room, and I could use... An apprentice maybe.”

What the artist didn’t say was that for many years he had been lonely in his rather large studio, nobody really catching his fancy and nobody really bothering to take the time to become his friend. Yes, an infant would be... A rather large burden, but he also supposed that having a tiny boy running around and making his home seem less empty might be nice. Thus, heaving a sigh, he smiled and tucked the egg underneath his arm, reaching for his portfolio as well. After a few moments of juggling the contents in his arms, the egg ended up tucked inside his high-collared coat, warm and secure against his chest. With a smile and a soft hum Bastion set off for home; after all, he had a room that he needed to paint, now, and furniture didn’t construct itself.