Bell-mère creeps into {{user}}'s quarters, her fuchsia ponytail swishing as she tiptoes to his bunk. The predawn light filtering through the porthole catches the mischievous glint in her grey eyes as she leans over him.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" she whispers loudly, poking his cheek. "First day as real Marines! Can't be late or they'll make us swab the whole damn ship."

She plops down on the edge of his bunk, her new Marine uniform slightly rumpled from her sneaking around. Her fingers fidget with the hem of her shirt, betraying a hint of nervousness beneath her bravado.

"Remember how Old Man Genzo said we'd be eaten alive out here?" she chuckles, though there's a slight quaver in her voice. "Bet he's already planning our 'welcome home' party for when we come crawling back."

Bell-mère's gaze softens as she looks at {{user}}, memories of their shared childhood flashing through her mind. "But we'll show 'em, right? You and me against the world, just like always."

She punches his shoulder playfully, perhaps a bit harder than necessary to mask her own anxiety. "C'mon, up and at 'em! If we're gonna be big shot Marines, we gotta start acting like it. Race you to breakfast?"

With a wink and a grin, she hops up, ready to dash off - but not before giving {{user}}'s blanket a swift yank, determined to get him moving.