The pinkette was as much a Pokemon lover as the next girl, but she found herself truly hating that Gardevoir. In a lot of ways it reminded her of how the other admins in Team Flare acted, the moment they were raised to that rank. Weaker individuals always took ranks as an excuse to become self-important and impose their views and wills on those whose titles weren’t on the same echelon. They always seemed to want to say something, either menacing or otherwise controlling to those they thought were below them, even when there wasn’t a need. What did this Gardevoir think she had planned to do, exactly? Come in and molest the damsel-in-distress that she had so unfortuately deftly rescued not even a week ago? The video or recording rule, at least, made some sense; there’s no telling what type of corporate schemes might take place that would involve the poor daughter of PPD’s CEO. That thought caused Malva to shake her head. This is what Lysandre used to talk about. It truly is an ugly blight on society..
"Yes, yes, I caught the warning the first time we met," she said, glaring at the Gardevoir through her glasses but not moving an inch otherwise. "And I promise that my behavior before the venerable Lady Lyn will be nothing less than angelic. However, since you are not my host, I recommend you lead me to her and go back about your business, ‘Pokemon.’” Malva was beginning to lose her temper with the humanoid psychic with the inflated Wailord-balloon of an ego. What I wouldn’t give to— She simply shook her head and turned her head to the side when she heard the giggles from a nearby room. Saved by the princess, Gardevoir. Her eyes flicking back to the butler Pokemon, she noticed it was busy communicating with two Aromatisse and rolled her eyes in amusement. I see there are plenty of self-important Pokemon on staff here. You’re just one of the many. That realization will sting once it sets in.
The Elite needed no chaperone and thus, made her own way into the room where she heard the giggles. Her immediate reaction to the ‘garden sanctuary’ she found here was sheer disbelief. I was right the first time. She really is living in a fairy tale. This is the most nauseating thing I believe I’ve ever laid eyes on. Still, Malva couldn’t deny that the room smelled lovely. Flowers tended to remind her of the fond times in the past for some reason; which basically meant the time she spent with Lysandre prior to his downfall. There was nothing about her biological family that she could be fond of, in memory or otherwise, and the same went for her adoptive parents. Still, there were memories that she cherished and she could see the draw to wanting to retreat to a world like this. Yet it was a fragile existence; a world like this could be easily set ablaze and becoming nothing but a memory itself, a hollow pleading wish for something pleasant to return to, but with no form or promise of security.
The Pokemon, the fake flowers - everything here seemed to exist in harmony, a perfect happiness. It softened the fiery elite’s demeanor a bit and for once she hoped that such an existence would be allowed to persist, even for one person. Yet, Malva had no pity for those who allowed themselves to be devastated when those things were ripped away from their grasp. One had to be strong in life if they expected to make it as it seemed one of the few guarantees in this world is that something will go wrong. Everything the pinkette had done for herself, she did in order to keep herself from being one of those that was lost when everything came crumbling down. But, who will be here for Lyn? That Gardevoir? She smirked; that would be a rather horrible existence in her opinion. Perhaps she had been around Wikstrom for too long, but somehow she felt like she was being roped in to being this girl’s ‘knight’ with this gesture. She shook her head at the notion; no one would want their sickly daughter under Malva’s ‘protection’.
When her eyes finally settled on the girl’s visage on the ornate bed, Lyn seemed to notice her as well. “It was no trouble at all,” she responded, remaining detached. Malva took a look around the bed at the chairs covered in books or occupied already by the numerous Pokemon that accompanied her in this room. She smiled with a bit of mirth and shook her head. “That will not be necessary, I find I am already comfortable as I stand in this room.” Not entirely untrue. Although she was used to lazing around in her chair at the Pokemon League or her couch in her apartment, she was not unused to standing for hours on end or even finding what little comfort she could sitting on the cold pavement of a sidewalk. Standing in a room of flowers to listen to a privileged young woman prattle on was far from the worst thing she’d endured, so long as the Gardevoir continued to busy itself elsewhere.
At the sudden touch on her shoulder, Malva turned her head and eyed the Spritzee with a letter in its claws. The pinkette accepted the envelope from the Pokemon while she responded to Lyn, “I promise you, it was no ordeal, that day. Merely happenstance that I was there at the time. Fate, lady luck, whatever it is that you believe in is more deserving of your praise and thanks.” Casually, she opened the envelope to pull out the rather odd paper and read what was written within. Containment. Instantly, Malva felt the desire to meet the man who called himself Lyn’s father, so she could be certain she wasn’t dealing with another psychopath. As it stood, she didn’t trust him, the Gardevoir, or anything about this situation, and it didn’t get any better. Her facial expression hardened as she mused over the offer contained in his letter. My price? Does he think I work for money? I’d sooner relish an opportunity to burn his daughter’s precious Pokemon than accept money from him. Yet it didn’t stipulate that the ‘price’ had to be a monetary amount. Deciding that she would come up with a reply to the offer eventually, she folded the letter back up, gingerly placed it back in the envelope, and tucked it away in her back pocket.
"You mentioned a ‘better state of mind’; how are you holding up?" she asked, trying to soften her expression a bit for the girl’s sake. "It was a rather nasty bite you suffered, I can only imagine that you had a bit of a fever which does horrible things when one dreams." Malva inwardly rolled her eyes at herself. Since when did she start talking as if she were a lady in a medieval court? Sure, she was as capable of eloquence as the next woman, but it just wasn’t her. The words tasted bitter in her mouth, wrong. "Yeah, yeah, Gardevoir," she muttered under her breath. She’d made her promise to the Pokemon - one she didn’t care too much if she broke - but for Lyn’s sake, as always, she decided it’d be less troublesome if she didn’t. The pinkette returned her hands to her back pockets, kept her distance from the bed, and shifted her weight to her back leg. "I see you have a lot of books. Is this what you usually do with your days?" She took a look around at the books scattered around in the chairs or on the floor by her bed, some of which looked more interesting than the average fairy tale or ‘how to be a proper lady’ tutorial. Malva would not bring up her father’s gesture of ‘gratitute’, nor the Gardevoir. She had no intention of paying much attention to Lyn’s own thanks, but she would have a casual, friendly conversation with the girl, something she felt the ill young lady could use more than a room full of fake flowers, obedient Pokemon, and a load of books.
