Mornings after are quiet, slow, content. Sometimes, Makoto wakes up on their own in a too-empty bed... But then there are the mornings filled with gentle sighs, soft touches. Perhaps numbers are exchanged, perhaps amicable byes or see-you-laters are exchanged...

One might say that Makoto's activities are on the more hedonistic side - but if you asked them, it's a little closer to that of sharing. Of wanting to show affection with others - because ultimately, doesn't it feel good, to share close contact with another? To show a little love, even if the time spent with some people is so-very-fleeting? It feels good to make others happy and to share in those mutual feelings, if you ask them.

But, of course, there are those whose bonds are more lasting than a brief nighttime encounter. And no matter how many people they do end up including in their life, Makoto is sure to find the time for each of them.

As their partner from the night before departs, they reach for their phone atop the nightstand - humming contentedly, tapping away at the screen. Good morning, how are you, how are the little ones, is there anything you want me to get... Makoto can't help but chuckle, at the responses that they recieve back - a warm smile across their face.

This morning was going to be an eventful one - but they wouldn't have it any other way.

Making candies and sweets was something that Makoto found quite enjoyable. Given the sheer variety of candies that one could make, even in the comfort of one's own home, it was hard to find someone who didn't have something they liked. Be it a nice dark chocolate, or a tart lemon drop, or a sweet caramel... There was usually something out there for anyone.

Makoto liked to make those candies on the regular, to share with those around them - be it friends, or family. A batch of citrus drops for someone, peppermint bark for another, chocolate-dipped pretzels... And of course, there was always a certain someone, who had an appreciation for their caramels.

They could see it out of the corner of their eye, the way a few shadows began to flicker in strange or even unnatural ways, slinking closer slowly but surely. The shape of a claw reaching up the counter, as if thinking itself unseen...

"Kuro,"

The claw froze, where it was reaching for a pan of soft caramel.

"Give those a chance to cool first, darling." They chided gently, as they glanced to the Hisuian Zoroark's shadowy form. "I don't want you to hurt yourself, eating them while they're still hot."

Kuro would make a soft whine - pleading and protest alike - but relented, drawing back. The Zoroark took a solid form, sitting back at the table with a small pout.

But, Makoto couldn't help a soft chuckle all the same - reaching over to pat Kuro on the head. "Just a little longer, dear - and then you can have some." He, perhaps, had become a bit of spoilt child - but he was still good, ultimately.

One did not always need to be wealthy, to be rich, to lead a content life. Certainly, in a capitalist world, you needed money to get by - to fulfill one's basic needs. But there was something more satisfying, in a humble life - in just having a cozy place to come home to after some work, and coming home to being greeted by your loved ones.

This was the sort of life that Makoto found happiness in; one where they could simply exist, among their family. A family bound not by blood, but by the simple fact that they trusted and felt their safest amongst one another

And to help in supporting this life, they - of course - had their work, at a local book-slash-occult store. Something that aligned with their own interests, and paid a cozy amount to boot. It also helped that they weren't the only one in the household - their loves having jobs of their own. Altogether, though they were always mindful of budgeting, money was rarely any severe concern.

So, Makoto was always able to trust that when they get home, it was to warm embraces, gentle kisses, and the wagging tails of their pokemon. There would always be dinner in the evening - be it the lot of them ordering out, or cooking something. And the night always promised a warm bed, soft and cozy, to end the day off in...

... A comfortable life, that they no longer had to fight for...

But of course, life isn't without its losses - no matter how warm or comfortable one could make it. Even in dreams, Makoto recognized that.

Tsume was an old Zoroark. The doppelganger trickster was very old, given that he belonged to their mother originally, when she was little. When they had left home at a young age to journey through Johto, Tsume had been given to them as a first partner - and he had always been a loyal and attentive pokemon, every step of the way.

But as the years passed, they grew older - and he grew older still. Even if he was active when they were in their early twenties, the signs had begun showing then - and the signs continued to grow from then on. All up until one night - where he curled up for sleep, and never woke the next morning.

All things considered, he had a long and happy life - and Makoto found comfort in that fact. He was able to go on adventures, and then retire to live out his twilight years in comfort and warmth. And to remember him, he was given a shrine in the house - like the beloved family member he is.

And Makoto - every so often - would reminisce, as they 'spoke' to him about their day, about the happenings and goings-ons. Sometimes, as they spoke to him, their mind would wander - to distant what-ifs, and what-could-have-beens...

... And sometimes, they'd ask him his thoughts - wondering if it was possible, to make a dream like this their reality.

Ability; Doppelganger - The ability to disguise oneself as other individuals through illusions; does not copy abilities, and can only function off of what the user can see at the time of creation.

Makoto had always been used to using the illusions of Tsume and Kuro to disguise themself. But to take on that power themself? It was... Strange. Interesting, even, being the one to weave them together themself - even if they needed clear view of their reference (which meant they were at risk of being spotted,) to make it work.

Early on, it seemed pointless when everyone was one and the same - featureless avatars like little dolls. How do you disguise as someone else like that? But when they found themself ambushed by a shadow pokemon - and thus met their end at its jaws - they were quick to realize the true purpose of this ability.

The Shadow Pokemon were still violent beasts as always - but they were less interested in attacking someone they believed to be one of their own. Not when there were other more vulnerable targets out there. Disguised as someone else's pokemon, Makoto would carefully weave their way through the twisting wilds; and when any shadow pokemon got too nosy, they would take after the vicious beasts - snarling at them and warn them off.

Thus far, it worked. But it was only a matter of time before they ran into something that could see past the disguise for what it was, or otherwise cared naught that its target was supposedly a fellow Shadow pokemon. Something with a far more clever and/or cruel edge to their vicious nature.

Her presence was heralded with a low foxlike laugh, and the writhing of shadows. Dark miasma amorphously shifting from one shape to another, each one designed to disorient and toy at the victim's perception. Some settled into that of horrid beasts, others into the familiar silohuettes of people that drew anxiety and anger alike from Makoto. And others yet, the shape of a certain nine-tailed fox, prowling. Circling.

It seemed that Tamamo had found them, before they could find her. And with the shadowy illusions in place, one could scarcely tell the real from the fakes, dancing amongst the darkness of the forest.

Which left Makoto with a dilemma; because ideally, all they'd have to do is throw the Dream Ball at Tamamo to contain her, and then go from there, right? That's what they had been set out to do, at the very least. But that was easier said than done, when only one of the foxes were real...

... Assuming that any of them were Tamamo at all, that was.

It was with the creak of a branch above, that Makoto didn't even look - they simply moved, to try and avoid the pounce of the ninetales, who descended like a blazing comet. Fire wreathed around her form, a Heat Wave that she had yet to release. Makoto had been able to avoid this initial ambush - but now that she was on level ground with them, all it took was a swing of her tails to send a wave of flames forth.

And Makoto, on the run and attempting to dodge and weave for their life, could feel the heat licking at their back; the beginnings of burns from the sheer proximity of how close the flames got, before it'd dissipate.

But as they took cover behind a tree, they would pull out the Dream Ball - holding it close to their chest, even as the surface of their skin stung painfully. All they needed was to listen. And wait for their chance. Because it wasn't as though Tamamo would leave them be, with her malicious intent. She'd chase them down until they were once again dead, they had the distinct feeling - and it wasn't going to be something as quick as the vicious bite of some maddened Hydreigon.

Slowly, casually, came the confident strides of a huntress - of a cat playing with the mouse it's caught. Makoto held their breath, heart hammering in their throat - for though they knew that death here wasn't permanent, it was still unpleasant all the same. It was still frightening, for as quick as the first end was. But at the same time, they didn't have much other option if they wanted to get close and personal with Tamamo.

So, as the fox drew near, the thief would steel themself. They sucked in a deep breath, the grip on the Dream Ball tightening... Before they rounded the corner and threw it, moments before the Ninetales could let loose another burst of flames!

The ball impacted off of Tamamo's forehead, seeming to startle the fox enough to prevent any last-second retaliations before she was drawn into the ball. And with this, it would begin to shake - once, twice, thrice... Before falling still - and as if in unison, the world itself seemed to become the same.

Quiet. Still. Frozen in but a single moment - save for the appearance of yet another text box before Makoto.

And with this box, came the option to purify their pokemon.

Makoto wasn't sure what it said about them, that the option was something that they had to actually give thought. Because that was the ideal that one would think, right? To purify them And yet - there came a number of things from different directions that... Made them second guess themself, perhaps.

The warning was certainly one. The idea that it'd mean giving up the power to protect those close to them. Those people ranging from their pokemon, to the few friends that they've been managing to make in Hoenn finally. When it seemed like some new thing was causing everything to unravel every other month, having the power to fight back against it would be valuable, wouldn't it? To protect those they care about?

And - perhaps - to keep up with the expectations that seemed to weigh on them, now that they were gaining attention from their Rocket peers, in having been taken in by Amor Rose?

It wasn't as though Shadow Pokemon were some unknowable thing, either. Time with Tempest Quinn had helped somewhat in that regard - talking about Shadow Pokemon and the like. They had a bit of a bad rep, and absolutely could be dangerous, but... Makoto had the hope that they'd be able to keep Tamamo under control, now that she was caught proper. It wasn't as though she was quite as unreasonable as some Shadow Pokemon seemed to be, either...

And though the other warning had briefly caused them to flipflop - the idea of lost potential, in a way, had them thinking... What was potential? Wasn't what Tamamo had now potential in-of-itself - something that they could learn to understand? Was she truly closed off from any sort of growth or change, this way?

... They hoped that they weren't making the wrong choice. But they couldn't remain here forever, either.

So, without looking at the text boxes any further, they'd lock in their decision - and despite the twist in their heart, they'd shove the feeling down to instead start walking back. Back to the castle, to see what the next step would be...

The Many-Faced Trickster ; Shadow
Covert Cloak / Smoke Ball / Spell Tag

Shadows were absolutely vicious things - mercy rarely was a word in their vocabulary. But, perhaps that was a good thing, when delving into a 'dungeon' - because even though it took the appearance of a warm and homely household, it was still rife with dangerous pokemon around every corner. And they were still as fragile as they were in any other part of this strange series of dreams; the only safety they could find was in the peers descending with them, and in Tamamo.

Her aggression took the form of a particularly cruel and clever edge; that others were simply prey, and that she was more than ready to play with her food. And if Makoto wasn't careful, she was plenty willing to toy with them as well...

... But, the power she held could not be denied. To cause mayhem and confusion amongst the enemy pokemon was invaluable - and she was able to put the most troublesome of them to sleep, to feed upon their dreams. (Though perhaps it was closer to nightmares, given how this Ninetales worked.)

There was a sort of tentative alliance between them - the recognition that one would help the other, and as long as Makoto allowed Tamamo to prey upon the enemy, she was willing to at least _attempt_ to hear them out.

Which would be a necessity, as they came to see what lurked at the very heart of this place. A massive Zoroark - its aged streaks clearly communicating it to be some fascimile of Tsume. This beast was not the Tsume they knew, however - because though it shared his usually-hidden ruthless edge, the Tsume they knew would never use it so needlessly, and not against family.

When what looked like a Night Daze began to form, Makoto would act in turn - preemptively put the first card to use. A Covert Cloak enveloped Tamamo - protecting her from the additional effects of the attack. But, the attack did not look as it should - did not leave those lingering hazes that often disoriented their opponents. Was it something to do with the dream, or this Zoroark being so large..?

Regardless, Tamamo proved to be a powerful asset - as her presence brought on the sun, it allowed her to let loose powerful flames with Heat Wave and solar energy with Solar Beam. Even if certain statuses like that of Shadow Panic did not seem to affect the Zoroark as effectively as a normal pokemon, the attacks were still plenty powerful.

And when the smackdown had led to the Zoroark's attention ending up on Tamamo, Makoto had another answer. The Smoke Ball filled the room with a haze of smoke that she could hide amongst - allowing her to avoid the massive fox's strikes with ease, long enough for it to end up burned from one of Tamamo's Heat Waves.

Which led into one last item. Even if Zoroarks were dark-type, a Spell Tag alongside the already-empowered Hex was all that she needed to bring the foe down. And for their troubles, Makoto was met with... A deck. A tarot deck, in fact - something they recalled collecting in the dream.

... Though the temptation arose to shuffle and draw from it, they resisted. To do so felt like it'd reveal something they'd rather not acknowledge.

Was it right, to put an end to what had been such a soothing dream? Something that one found comfort in?

Makoto wasn't sure, honestly... But it wasn't as though they had a choice.

It had happened so suddenly, the second that they had entered that warm setting. Standing on the path to a humble home, one that had contained safety and love, standing in an equally warm town...

... And it was all going up in flames.

The second that Tamamo had entered this rift, had been brought into the dream, it was as though a fetter had been undone. Heedless of Makoto's commands, the shadow Ninetales charged forth - the sun above blazing like a hateful star underneath her Drought. And empowered by that shining sun, her Heat Waves seemed to burn all the brighter, catching things aflame with ease.

Makoto's first instinct had been to step in - surely, this could be resolved a different way, right? Was this senseless destruction really the only option?

But a wall of flames come to stop Makoto's advance - and perched upon the roof of the burning home, Tamamo gazes down at them. Her gaze is cold, a vast contrast to the flames she bathes this dream in. But behind the uncaring exterior, there is a certain glimmer - a glimmer of glee, to be found in those same eyes. She was the one in control here, not them - and she was happy to make it clear.

Their options, in this moment, were either to obey - or burn... And being the coward that they were, they'd simply stare down at the grass under their feet, trying to ignore the crackle of flames, the way theri eyes burned, and the smell of smoke and other such burning things that filled their other senses.

All until, it was over...

...

They suppose it went to show, the only options they had in the waking world as well. Dreams were formed upon the hodgepodge of one's unconscious thoughts, after all.

Even in the rainy season, hypothermia can be a risk sometimes. This is due in part to, well, the rain - if one gets wet, and can't find someplace to dry off at, even temperatures above freezing can cause someone to get cold enough for it to set in.

Makoto knows this well. It almost got them, once. Hiding out in an alleyway in some city during a rainstorm, the overhangs above making it one of the few places that were sheltered from the storm. In the middle of the night, and with little money, they didn't exactly have much in the way of finding a warmer place to stay back then.

The shivering had stopped, and their eyelids felt heavy... But Tsume had known better than to let them fall asleep. With low growls and prods from his claws, he had kept them awake, held them close against his body - even if he, too, had been soaked to the bone.

But, in that alleyway, the two had found a savior. A pokemon who had helped them, and even tagged along with them for the short while that they had stayed in the city. And in this strange memory - where they are still an adult, and yet find themself in that familiar alleyway - they come face-to-face with the pokemon once more.

A Typhlosion. Large, gentle, motherly - she had taken Makoto in alongside her mate and their eggs. And the fire-type's warmth had been plenty to shelter Makoto and Tsume from the cold back then. She had saved them from possibly freezing to death. And in helping look after them during their stay in the city, had provided some stability and safety.

The only thing that kept her from going with them, was needing to stay to look after her eggs and the children within; having so many extra mouths to feed would've surely been too much for one child to provide for. The only thing that kept Makoto from staying, was the building attention they had been drawing to themself; too much for their comfort, given their tendency for thievery and the like.

Perhaps if things had been different, Makoto would've loved to have her with them. They would've loved to stay, alternatively.

But here, in a dream, those worries were a paper-thin obstacle.

Looking at one another once more, the Typhlosion's gaze is warm and awed, to see the human cub she had met once upon a time all grown up. They remembered one another - and amidst the distant fall of the rain...

... Makoto felt their eyes tear up, as they wrapped their arms around the fire-type. In turn, she let out a rumbling purr, nuzzling Makoto.

In a quiet space where the rain couldn't reach, Makoto found another sort of warmth and safety that Tamamo couldn't steal from them...