Lysandre needed something beautiful- something simple, desperately. He was restless, his feelings turned sour, his mind set only on the problems of the world; the difficulties of existing and the unhappiness of the people who lived in it. Most of that morning he had paced across the floor of his lab, ignoring the stares of his Grunts and the sound of their hushed voices swarming around him like a thousand small bug Pokémon buzzing in his ears. Now, what was there? He thought of the beautiful, simple things in Lumiose…
Cafés were beautiful things.
He simply told one of his Admins that he was going out, should anyone ask, and left the hideout. Certainly, he could ask his waitress at his café for a coffee, but that would not be getting out or away from the world of stress and expectation that he lived in at most times. He shoved his hands into his pockets and began to walk the streets of the city, using the small alleyways to avoid the brunt of the crowd that swarmed the city streets.
He picked one of the cafés that was less inhabited today, not feeling as ease in the crowds.
Lysandre took a seat at one of the outside tables, if just to feel the slight breeze inside the city on his face and admire the cloudless sky. With effort he pushed the sound of footsteps and many voices to the back of his senses, knowing he would soon escape the city. The coffee he ordered was one to go; he decided it only about the time he came inside the café and determined that the crowded streets of Lumiose were entirely too much, even at a small, beautiful place in the city. It was too loud, too crowded for him. He craved silence, beautiful silence, and the scent of flowers that were natural- not the bottled perfume sweetness that wafted through the shopping streets.
The waitress came from inside, carrying the Styrofoam mug carefully in her hand. So ugly and plain, but the container would have nothing to do with the coffee. He knew it would be good—Lumiose always provided the best. That seemed to be all of Kalos’ motto: the best, the finest, the most fanciful and beautiful. It attracted a lot of attention to itself that way, and the people who lived their reflected that- himself included.
He thanked the waitress with a smile and soft words, handing her some poke, then waiting until she was gone to stand to leave. He took the cup by the cardboard wrapped around it, admiring how a simple thing prevented the delicate skin of human hands from being burned. It was another testament to the often-forgotten fact that simple things were sometimes better than the complicated.
Because sometimes things would hurt and burn, and pay off in the end. Like his struggles, he tried to reassure himself, like his struggles would.
Lysandre’s end destination was undecided; Likely just one of the routes outside Lumiose. Which one would be a surprise to him, should he chose to ignore the large number-markers above the gates. Perhaps he would—though the route could only be one of a few, it added that small sense of mystery that was occasionally enlightening.
He sipped from the cup, enjoying the taste of black coffee. Bitter, strong. He didn’t need it to keep him awake, he had just found himself craving the taste, the warmth. He needed it to remind him of the fire he had smoldering inside him now, when he was beginning to feel his hope falter.
The sunlight seemed, somehow, even brighter once he exited Lumiose. A quick glance around his surroundings told him he was on Route 5—the small skate park full of rollerbladers was the giveaway. This area was flowery, and warm, and their laughter was cheerful, bringing a different kind of brightness to him. He decided that this was close enough to silence, and took a seat on the soft grass nearby while reaching for one of his Pokeballs.
Thierry, his lovely Pyroar, would love the day too.
Lysandre rolled the Pokeball out of his hand and onto the grass gently, smiling when he saw his Pokémon emerge, yawning and stretching his graceful body. Thierry immediately turned, facing his trainer and sitting by his side, letting out a low growl of affection for his trainer. Lysandre reached out his free hand and stroked the smooth fur on the Pokémon’s back, taking long, even breaths, feeling that inner turmoil disappear.
