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You clear the perimeter, opening the door ajar. The kitchen is about exactly as you left it, albeit tidier: There where you sister crashed the kitchen table stands the kitchen table, with a length of metal bolted onto two out of four legs. And being that Mom is a child of order, even now it and the hearth are quite pristine despite the bowls and stew pots now a-cooking on the latter. Moderately aged and somewhat worn, she's busy setting plates and cutlery, and though you weren't particularly stealthy moving in, she does not seem to notice you.
"<span class="mu-g">Ba-bul. Ba-bulba!</span>" goes the call, and it does startle her: Casting aside a silver fork, she turns around to face you. "MAX"
She's on you within seconds.
"Tell me everything! Your starter?" - "<span class="mu-g">Yeah.</span>" - "Bulbasaur. Good choice, darling! You look so worn. Did something happen?"
>"Many things. I had my share of trials." (Be benevolently dismissive)
>"Just a long day, Ma. Don't you worry!" (Be succinctly cool)
>"I realised my sister is my enemy. We have unwanted visitors inbound.." (Be mercilessly honest)
>Other (Write-in)
