Pylori's favorite place to sit and people-watch is the atrium where long-term care is centered. So many people dying so slowly. Not that he wants to pay much attention to the death - that's certainly not his "thing". His "thing" is to make the living rather miserable. Oh, oil and hot spicy foods help, but in the end it's all his fault. Stress? Sure. That contributes to sharing, but when all else is counted up, a huge dose of antibiotics is the only thing going to shake him from the insides of someone's stomach lining. Angry men tell someone else that they've made a mistake in creating... Oh! They're talking about him and his siblings! Slander about Virus, his precious father. Pylori watches and wonders if they recognize him. After all, they only really looked him over carefully while they were splicing genes together. Not much after that. The current head of the Cloning department nearly doubles over in pain - his ulcer is really acting up and these bozos from the health department want to know why. Pylori almost raises his hand. But then he merely smiles and walks back to the dorms. (back) Later on - make sure you read page 2 of Virus before going here! Pylori chooses a strange place to bond - an isolated yet invigorating area called the Keltic Rose Isle. The search rider drops him off, and he stands in awe of the big scaled dragons flying around. Some of them lurk in shadows, and some leap from watery lairs. Two very different women seem to be the caretakers of the place. And true to form, he almost causes an outbreak of stomach ailments in either of them. But he knows better - Virus, his father, told him not to do things that would get him kicked out of a place before he could adequately scope it out. Every piece of information he gathers here becomes more information for Virus, so he chills on the infections and approaches a deep blue-skinned elfin looking woman. "Do you need any help?" She asks, curtly. He smiles widely, his dark hair swept into his face. "I think you might need mine, it looks like." He glances over her shoulder and sees several dragon young getting into a spat. They have to be pulled apart and chastised. Aurorastorm sighs. "Yes, it does look as though we're a little short on hands about now. With several young waiting new caretakers there is always something to be done. Come along." Pylori eagerly follows her. The stress level of the place is huge, just as he hoped for. By the time he leaves here - with or without a dragon - it'll be needing a lot of pepto-bismol... The tour is short, because an older dragon begins bellowing about scale rot and who knows what else. Pylori gives a little sense out with his virus-born eyes. Sure enough, there are parasites galore on this great grey-blue beast. "I can help," Pylori offers. "Here, may I?" He holds out his hands and the dragon eyes him with suspicion, but then lowers his great head. The hands are warm, and give off a pleasing tingling sensation. Because even though Pylori is in fact a child of cloning and viral infections, he can in fact still cure things just as well as infect them. The dozens of scales affected by the parasite infestation drop off, dead, but the skin below them is fresh and healthy. Aurorastorm stands with her eyes carefully scanning the newcomer. She could have sworn that his aura was a little more malicious than helpful like that - but perhaps that's the kind of mischief he'd be likely to produce. She would keep an eye on this one. *** Pylori gets into the habit of walking through the Abandonling refuge, to make sure that no one is in need of anything. This kind of ingratiating activity actually grows on him. Though he can never truly relax - his own ulcerated body thrives on stress - the dragons and some of the other creatures make his stay quite serene. Not in the slightest bored by his third round of the week, Pylori wonders if his stint in the hospital had something to do with his ability to care for creatures and people? It was something he and his siblings picked up quickly of course, but he hadn't realized how deeply it went. High stress and caring for people seem to go hand in hand. If it wasn't one thing, it would be another: someone's dragon had a split claw that needed mending (which he couldn't help), someone else brought their dragon in after having stolen and eaten a scavenged kill (which he could solve). Pretty soon, he'd want to be rushing out to help people left and right, like one of those EMT guys he'd seen in the trauma unit. On the edge of his seat so to speak, Pylori heard tell that there were finally eggs on the sands at Keltic Rose Isle. "These are Glenn dragons, still," Lady Eternal Rose says to her group of potential bonders. Pylori slips into their group, unseen. "They come from old stock, and we're merely tending them. Remember that they are their own creatures - we are not their masters, nor their servants. We are to act as their caretakers and friends, teachers and companions, as much as they are those things to us." How very deep, Pylori thinks to himself. And how true. The dragons here were not remarkably needy, but when they were to be used for fighting or ... Fighting... Yessss. Pylori knew that he would have to try at least, for a bond who could take him to the edge of battlefields. Not only was the fear and anger flying thickly at a battle, there was always death and disease - his true friends - to be had. Like his father, Pylori's vain self-absorbed thoughts are that he'll become a savior of some while spreading little versions of himself everywhere he goes. He just had to bond. Or at least try. And where there were eggs, there would be other candidates. This group would be only a small portion of the people who would be attending the hatching - so the losers would have to go home without a bond. He might be among them - he kept reminding himself, that he might not. But he'd have to try. He couldn't pass this up. Showing up on a dragon at a battlefield, or over some huge human conflict back home? That would ROCK! With a little smile reserved for his own gloating, Pylori put himself on a list that was on the sands entrance. They would have to look him over again - but by now, the place knew of him and knew that he had healing powers that few others had. The fact that he was willing to use them freely and without any compensation was only in his favor, wasn't it? Of course it was. He was charming - not nearly as cool as his father Virus, but he knew that he was dashing at least. He could come to the rescue of some damsel, and then make her father cringe in small-intestine agony later on. Perhaps that ought to be his goal... Now, where would he keep a dragon? Of course! Everyone might be coming back to the Labs, wouldn't they? It was the clearest image in his head anyway, and the search rider told him that when dragons teleport they need a good strong image of where to go, and he had a terrific memory for that place. Father could probably get anyone to build anything on their expansive lands - and since the Cholera-induced incident at the lake, the military training camp had been abandoned. That land would be perfect! It already had buildings big enough for tanks - and these dragons were at least that size. So he had no trouble thinking up how to get back there, and who to pester when they got there. He was already flying, in his head... He is so distracted while thinking about these things, that he barely notices a girl standing next to him. "Are you okay?" She asks, her voice pure and sweet. "I am fine," he says with a grin. "What have you there?" "I've got a Baiton egg if you want one. I've got a few." She holds out a basket, where Pylori sees a number of fairly large multi-colored eggs. "I'd love one. That's very kind of you, my dear." Pylori says, picking a red one. "What will it look like, I wonder?" "You'll see soon enough," she says, and trots off. And in fact, soon, the egg broke open. It was adorable. So peaceful. Until it woke up, and bit Pylori on the hand. He grinned widely. "Snapper? Is that your name?" Pylori asks, and in response, the Baiton bites down hard again on the fleshy part of his hand. "Sure enough." Eventually, he'd grow up big and strong. But for the moment, Pylori contents himself to feeding the armful of Baiton. He'd learn soon enough if he was going to be feeding a dragon, too.
Eventually, over the course of what seems to be weeks, the egg hardens and finally begins to hatch! Everyone's experiences are different. He has remained on the grounds at Keltic Rose Isle, since he is needed for the infirmary and dragon care. His private rooms are now expanded to be big enough to care for a hatchling, and specially constructed for a small dragon on one side. His own bed and desk are forgotten, after a couple days, he has taken to curling up next to the egg. After all, it's nice and warm, and with but a blanket over the reeds he doesn't get poked by them. At long last, then, the egg twitches and jumps. Pylori too, jumps. "It's hatching!" He whispers. He can barely get louder than that, in his excitement. He'd never imagined how great this would be! Even Snapper seems interested, now grown a bit. He investigates the trembling egg, then bounces backward when the piece he is sniffing cracks off and falls. "You silly thing!" Pylori laughs. Then, he watches as the egg loses more pieces of its shell. Inside, he sees something moving slightly, trying to locate a place to break the egg properly. Pylori taps the side of the egg, and the egg stops. Then, abruptly, two heavy paws come crashing through the side of the egg - breaking it into hundreds of pieces! The hatchling within is red, a pretty blood red with white-cell silver below on her belly. She hisses at Snapper who growls right back - but he's not even half her size and will never be competition. Finally the hatchling shakes off the last of the shell fragments from her pretty back and tail, and turns to see Pylori crouched in awe. She makes a cooing noise, and bowls him over. Devotion plays in her eyes, even though her hard claws accidentally dig into Pylori's sides. She stands on him and croons a song. "Yes - yes," Pylori says, "I'll get you food and water, and a name... um... ow!" He gasps for breath as the slightly overbearing presence of his new friend nestles down on his chest. It seems she doesn't want to go anywhere just yet.
The Keltic Rose Isle area seemed oddly quiet for a while, but even during the down times, there was always something for Pylori to be doing. Apakk was growing bigger by the day it seemed, so he usually remained near by. Snapper kept growing too. The red Baiton seemed unusually testy one day. "What's gotten into you, little one?" Pylori asked. He heard a rumbling in the distance: a shock of floodwaters were heading down the gulley several miles away, and would probably end up causing some trouble. Well, that was something to do, now wasn't it? They kept wating for the word that someone had been injured or needed their help. Apakk growled when one attendant knocked at their den's entrance. "Hush, Apakk. They're friendly." She continued to growl, but snuck off to the back of their den. The imploring look she gave Pylori almost broke his heart. "Okay, okay, do you want to come along, or should I stay?" "You're needed out in the field, sir," said the runner. "The dragon should learn to be on her own a little bit." Apakk didn't much think that was nice, but Snapper 'offered' to stay as well. Pylori would have brought him along because he was small and annoying, but right now they had all the annoying they could handle, in the form of the flood. Apakk growled at Snapper, and Snapper tried biting the growing adolescent red's nose. "Not nice!" Apakk screeched. Her vocabulary had grown quite a bit over the last few weeks, mostly due to Snapper's interference. "Stop it! Pylori! Make him stop!" After all the effort that Apakk went through to get her little nest ready, Snapper seemed apt to get her to destroy it. "Snapper," Pylori warned, "now's not the time. Apakk is concentrating." Snapper hissed, and flew up to the rafter of the den. "That's a good baiton... Now, Apakk, what have you got for me?" "I made flat reeds. I will want them warm. Should I burn them?" She made ready to try huffing at the pile of long dry reeds, but Pylori waved at her. "No, no, that's probably not the best idea. You like it warm... I think we can find some hot rocks or something..." "Sometimes I want to lay on Snapper," Apakk warned, looking up at the baiton which was ready to drop onto her back from above, "because he is always warm." Pylori snorted and laughed, and leaned back. He got a message that his father Virus had bonded elsewhere, at a fantastic volcanic place. "I bet you'd like it there, Apakk," he said while looking at the image of Ring of Fire. "It burns?" "It sure does..." "Then some day we will go there, won't we?" "Or some place like it, yeah. I think so!" How big Apakk had gotten was forgotten when she started turning her attention to fire and heat. Pylori knew that his bond friend was going to be a fire type early on, she just couldn't have been anything else. Especially since he felt a kind of burning sensation every time their minds touched. She was quite adept at sending her thoughts into his mind, and could locate him easily when he was out of the dens. She'd learned how to fly long before, as an adolescent. In the air over the Keltic Rose Isle she became an acrobat. True to Pylori's influence, though, she also became quite the terror in the sky. She would dive close to the homes in one village, then corner animals and frighten them half to death. She wasn't ill-behaved, she wasn't angry, she was just quite hot headed and rather bold. About the time that she was pronounced an adult Fire Red, was when Pylori was called to the offices. Snapper came along, but Apakk was asked to remain where she nested. "Are you going to head home now?" Asked one of the caretakers, and Pylori gave a little laugh. "Because your dragon is a bit of a troublemaker." "Really? I hadn't noticed." Pylori said. His eyes danced with the humor that had become known as a danger to anyone who saw it. People who got on this side of Pylori tended to go back to their homes or dens and later on have severe bowel problems or upset stomachs for days. "I'm certain you have noticed. So I will arrange for your lovely red to be transported back to your starting place. I think you have a good image of it?" Pylori produced a photo that had been sent to make sure that he located the correct landing spot. There was already a dragon area set aside near the lake, as promised. But Apakk wouldn't want to roost there! Maybe land on it, but certainly it was too close to the water's edge for her tastes. She would rather probably set up shop in the craggy hills nearby, where Pylori would have to climb through lots of cactus and sharp scrub. But it did get warm up there, hew knew that much. "All right," Pylori sighed, "but I want you to know that I think this has been a good experience. I really appreciate it." "And when you weren't actively trying to make my staff and helpers sick, I appreciated your presence too," the woman warned, "but you've worn out your welcome, my smirking friend. So if you come back, make it brief and make it clean. Understood?" Pylori nodded, knowing that his antics would have to be stopped sooner or later here - but they'd be able to continue in full force when he got back home!
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