A doctor dressed in magenta scrubs with a long lab coat that ends around her ankles steps back from the patients bed. This is the long term ward of New Donk Memorial; this is where people with no family and little chance of waking up end up when they're airship crashes.
Jacob Singer, aged twenty-four is the man in question. He rented a ship to get out of work at his banking job and only wanted to be gone for a week. That was six months ago. He was on a breathing machine and non-responsive now. Brain dead was the word.
No one was home.
The doctor checked some of the machines in the room as the hospital had been experiencing power fluctuations, strange read-outs from once trustworthy instruments, and just crazy occurrences to name a few of the happenings. It was unclear what was happening, but there was a real risk of the people in this ward being overlooked due to their lack of interaction with the outside world.
She shut the door, finding everything to be normal for now and the light cut out seconds later due to the lack of motion.
An orb of something dropped through the ceiling, sparkling brilliantly and brightening the whole corner of the room where it was present. Beneath where the orb moved tiny glittering droplets rained down from it. At first, it just hovered over the large cabinet meant for family to place belongings in, but then it bounded up doing a small arc and coming to a stop over the top of the metal coat hanger apparatus that held various liquids that dripped into Jacob.
The ball surveyed other parts of the room, emitting a metallic twinkle sound as it moved. It came to a stop above Jacob's face, providing enough light for it to be visible in the darkness. Jacob did not react though.
Jacob was dark skinned with a pristine beard that the nurses and doctors tried to keep the way he liked it, out of respect. His hair is curly and trimmed short—though there was no one home, or so they said, he was well cared for. He was loved in a way.
The ball of light makes a tight circle in the air. This is the one. This is the vessel that it has been searching for. The small sparkle rears up into the air and slams down into Jacob's chest as if it needed the speed. The initial impact causes his limbs to spring up and his body to start to convulse. First the machines in the room chirp and beep uncontrollably, then the lights start to flicker.
It's approaching midnight and the source of the problem is hard to locate because of the sporadic instrument failure, but when the doctor returns to Jacob Singer's room he is gone leaving behind a host of disconnected IVs and a bed with a well worn divot at its center.
The window stands open, a light breeze billowing through the room. It's a twenty story drop to the street, but when the doctor looks outside into the rain and wind there is no body, no sign of a crowd to watch the morbid show.
Jacob is gone.
Shaving, makeup, styling hair—I do these things for myself. A team of stylists is the kind of privilege I can afford, but have never seen the need for. My life is complicated, it's not so overly so that I need women to shave my legs for me.
Lissette, Amy, and Gretchen bonded over these experiences though; despite being a little kooky, Daisy knew the others well enough to know that we needed to include that for their sake. Not because we had to appease them, but it was just that if any of them returned to their respective kingdoms talking about how horrible their time was she'd take her royal jet there and fight them herself.
The small salon that Daisy picked for the day's festivities was an upscale sort of establishment on a rooftop of a six story building. They serve wine and have all manner of little snacks—there's a whole spa style thing going on.
It might even be relaxing if one of the guests wasn't my new mother-in-law. Daisy, in an attempt to try and make things a little easier on me put herself between me and mom as a buffer.
Lissette is to the side of me getting a pedicure, she holds a thin stemmed wine glass in her hand, but it's mostly empty. "I thought that I knew all of the best places in the city…" she says. "It would seem that Daisy found something new and exciting."
I laugh. "It may not seem like it, but Daisy is quite the party planner. She's got a real eye for details that most people don't think of before hand." It's hard to keep from looking at my mother-in-law; she's sitting across from me holding a bottle of wine in one hand and talking to Queen Amy in the most personable way. I see where Mario gets all of it from—he can practically get along with anyone if they give him a chance.
Rosalina and Samus had been asked to come, but neither of them felt comfortable in this kind of environment. I wish they had come—I could have pressed the point, but I didn't want to be rude. I'm still not sure how to react to the idea of having a daughter that was almost my own age. I'm even less sure how I can continue to hide her parentage from her own father.
"Seems like a few days ago they were telling me you were dead—" Lissette says. "King Koopa was running around trying to rally support for I-don't-know-what. Then I get word you showed up here like nothing happened."
"My home was taken. It's a lot different than 'nothing happened'," I explain.
"Yes, but have you tried going back there to see what has happened to the people and to your palace. If this darkness can truly snuff our the safeguards you have so easily, why do any of us stand a chance? Why hasn't it come for you here?"
I don't have an answer for her. There's something odd about the way that things have progressed for sure. We're all just going about the preparations for the wedding like this is a normal thing. My people are taken from me, possibly enslaved and hardly anyone seems to care or be worried—even me.
Trying to consider the worse of what was going on at this very moment was hard. When I would think about the Toad Town and my castle and the people who resided there something would pull me away from all of it. Concentrating on it now, I could see it was an active thing. Something in my mind telling me to "look over here" instead of what I should be paying attention to.
Lissette's honey colored eyes flicked up and down my person. "The cover story that's been floated by someone our there is that you're wanting to be come a full fledged Queen so that you can command an army in war, but there's no amendment stopping you from defending yourself. You want War Powers, don't you? You want to call upon an international force that you command to crush this enemy?"
I've been careful who I divulge my true intentions to. The special privilege I seek to use is ancient. The original doctrine that came of it had the first Queen Toadstool being seen as a Supreme Leader of a large military force that encompassed several Kingdoms and nations. While the power has been technically available to anyone who bares the name Toadstool and is Queen, it hasn't been enacted in centuries. The stories about Lissette knowing everything are still true.
"What is it you want?" I ask. That's how it's always been with her, she doesn't play her hand until there's something to be gained from it.
"Actual standing. Real power. Hmm, a title that doesn't come from the value what's between my legs and being pawned off to some elderly duke halfway across the world to bare his tainted spawn…" Lissette leans closer to me now, her eyes narrowing.
"My sister sits on the throne," she adds. "There's little chance that I will ever be more than a bargaining chip in Metropolis Kingdom—the mayor of this city holds more sway than me. Appoint me special counsel and give me holdings inside your borders."
"As Princess you have holdings here—in one of the richest kingdoms on the planet."
Lissette makes a disgusted face at me. "This kingdom is mostly city. Any holdings I would be given would only be granted through marriage and even then I would be a glorified landlord to my own subjects. We don't have space for large plots of land to be given out to any royal that the monarchy spits out."
"You're asking me to take a risk. Your family could see my meddling in your placement as an attempt to spy on them or worse," I sigh. "It leaves me in a very vulnerable position."
A devious smile spreads across Lissette's lips. "If you think that I'm not aware of that let me go ahead and cut the rope for you with a juicy bit of gossip that I heard: the council and several of the kingdoms know what you're up to and know that they don't have veto power. They're planning to annul your marriage."
I spring up from my chair, forgetting my place and that someone is working on massaging my feet. The water they've been using to soak sloshes onto the floor. "What are you talking about? They—they can't." Everyone is looking at me and I stare back in return, trying to silently tell them that this is both serious and they should not worry.
Lissette pulls me down into my chair. "They can because you weren't going to have proof you're married. The rules say that there need to be witnesses to a royal consummation. Both families, if possible, important members of the community, and so on. Most of our parents shrugged that off, but if no one sees you it's grounds for an annulment."
Both families? The rules on bedding ceremonies were scant in my brain at best. I don't think anyone has done one in the past fifty years or more. Now I was being forced to fall back on tradition, at least from what Lissette says. But that's just the thing—Lissette could be trying to force my hand to some other end.
"I hope you don't think me to be the same Princess Peach whom you tricked and called 'brace-face' all through her younger years. I won't blindly believe the words of someone whom I barely call a friend."
Lissette giggles with delight and I can tell it's not sarcastic. "Darling, I wouldn't trust me as far as I can piss standing up. You'd be a fool to think me someone you could believe given the stakes."
"And yet you think I want you working under me?"
"No. You need me. Daisy has a lot of bite, but one day she'll marry Mister L over there and she'll have her own country to run and little ones to scamper after. You need a social enforcer, an information broker, and a spin doctor. You were born on an undeniable mountain of soft power; I have paid for mine with blood, sweat, and some bodily fluids best not named in pleasant company."
I hold a hand up. "Okay, first of all: ew. Second: I still can't trust you."
Lissette is done next to me, has been for sometime now, but she finally rises and bends down to speak into my ear. "If I'm right then the challenge will come quick, because the wheels are already in motion. If you don't have a marriage license by tomorrow then start picking your side of invitees for your bedding ceremony. If I'm lying you can always claim it was a symbolic gesture, but watch how many dignitaries take interest suddenly. Ask royals you can trust if they've been approached about the opposition—and I don't just mean your flower loving friend over there."
Lissette doesn't leave time for my reply and walks off to the other side of the room to join Gretchen at the small bar near the doors. My eyes fall on Mario's mother. I might have to let her watch the first time Mario and I…
The thought sends shivers down my spine.
Daisy's hand on my shoulder scares me. "What was that tense conversation you two had going on?" She asks.
I sigh. "Political drama actually. It would be boring to you."
"Lissette is one hundred percent drama. I mean, I know I'm a bitch, but I'm more fun and bitchy than I am utterly evil and bitchy," Daisy says.
"There's certainly a place for her in the world and she knows it."
Daisy shrugs. "I kind of wish we had brought Rosalina instead. I know we hardly know her, but she's got a much better vibe. You two have gotten close over the last few days. Do I suspect someone is working on a little ménage à trois action for a wedding gift?"
I stare at her. "I don't know—I don't know what that weird language is you're speaking…"
"Ménage à trois. Emphasis on the trots!" She hits the last word of the phrase harder. It means threesome. Like three people having sex in any combination of interconnecting parts that floats your boat. Goodness, how do you not know these things. Don't you and Mario ever watch movies?"
Instinctively I roll my eyes and mutter. "Not the kind on the internet that start with an ad for rubber penis toys and only have a ten minute runtime…"
"Ouch. Okay. I'm confused, because that actually kind of stung, but I'm also very proud of you." Daisy kisses my lips too quick for me to push her away, My hand absently catches her in the face. "Oh stop, I'm just too shocked to know what to do."
"It's complicated. Rosalina is just…yeah no."
"I suspect that you're trying to hide from me Peach Toadstool. You forget how well I know the real you. I'm not saying you're a lesbian, but you've never had an issue admitting that another woman was gorgeous."
"Ugh, please stop. Just, please Daisy."
"What's going on with you? What is it about her?"
I take a quick glance around to see if anyone is nearby. "She's my damn daughter," I cut myself off, being sure to apologize for my swearing. "Excuse me. She is my daughter and Mario's from a distant future or alternate world. I don't really get it." I sneer, keeping my voice low.
Daisy laughs. "You're fucking with me. Oh shit, you're not. How-how can she be here very grown up? How did her butt get so…you know? Has anyone checked out Momma Basilone's butt yet or do you think it was lu—"
"Can you not?" I demand.
"Sorry."
"I don't know how it happened though. You can't tell anyone, especially not Mario. Don't even let Rosalina know."
Daisy reaches up with her pinky extended toward me. She lets her hand hang there in that pose for a moment as she glares at me. "Come on, get it up there, bitch."
I link my finger with hers and she looks me in the eyes, her tan face reddening slightly at the prospect of what we were doing. "I, Princess Daisy Monteblanc, pinky promise to keep the secret of Rosalina's parentage," she whispers those two words. "If I break this promise may a chain chomp rip out my neck or some shit…"
"That's not how it used to go, but I appreciate the gesture." A smile spreads across my face and our hands shake together as we both burst into laughter. Daisy is the first to withdraw her hand. I find myself fanning at my eyes to keep the tears from rolling down.
"Don't," Daisy chides me. "You're going to make your eyes all puffy and we've got some partying to do."
So, I know that I was strictly against there being any activity at a strip club. I had planned to do my own thing and let Daisy and the others have their fun, but as it turns out it might be to my benefit to be out acting like someone who is actually getting married in every traditional since.
The Cock Pit is just what the name says: a themed exotic dancing establishment staffed by men wearing bomber jackets, rustic scarves, and tight underwear that leave little to the imagination. Apparently this place is one of Daisy's favorites. For obvious reasons we left Miss Basilone at the penthouse.
"Carlos!" Daisy shouts to a man stack of purple coins held in a satchel at his side. "Carlos! Long time no see!"
He comes closer to us and just like the other times this has happened tonight this whole thing makes me uncomfortable. I've never been in this kind of place and I've only seen one penis in person. It's just hanging there behind a thin elastic layer of clothing.
Carlos smiles, his white teeth catching the luminous effect of the backlights. He certainly is unreasonably pretty to look at. His hair is dark and slicked to the side and he has eyes that, in the dim light, appear to be green. "You gals need anything?" He asks in a husky baritone before shooting a wink my way.
Daisy insists I wear a sash she made that's white with silver wording down its length reading: BRIDE in huge letters. "Um yes, you're going to need to give this lady over here a dance!" Daisy yells pointing at Samus.
Samus is dressed in a yellow sparkly dress, who knew she owned one dress, let alone two. She shakes her head vigorously before Lissette and Gretchen rib her on and she agrees. She's right between me and the other award situation at the table, Rosalina.
Rosalina has her hair pulled up in a bun and she sits looking like she might scream if someone touches her. Any attempt to ask if she's okay result in her claiming to be just fine. She won't walk outside with me or agree to get rest.
Carlos mounts Samus, his body grinding against hers as she sits stunned at the whole ordeal. It continues for some time and I have to look away. "I'm going to get a drink…"
"You're the bride. You shouldn't be doing any work!" Daisy says.
"It's fine, I'll be right back." I slide out of my seat and make my way to the far side of the room where there's a bar being tended by a mushroom person. I didn't notice them at first, but as I get closer the dome shape of the head behind bar moving back and forth becomes apparent.
They look up at me, dark eyes searching my face with a vague recollection of my features. My hair being up and the dress I wear don't really lend themselves to the image of Princess Peach most of my subjects know. The only thing I currently wear I have on now is the large blue earrings that belonged to my mother.
The toad looks at me and snaps his fingers. "Princess Peach?"
My confidence in my altered appearance seems to have been a little premature. "Wow, I didn't think that anyone would notice…"
"You're my ruler. Or were. I'd never forget your face even if I never saw you in person." They explain.
"How long have you been outside of the country?" I ask.
"Left about a decade back. Married a Snift and the two of us moved here. Congratulations on the nuptials, by the way."
I step between the bar and a stool, sliding to sit in front of him. "That's a nice story. I don't know how you did all of the wedding planning and work—it's so nerve wrecking."
"She really took care of all that," the toad says. "I kind of just showed up and said my thing. You know how it is."
"Yeah. I wish I could make things that simple for Mario and I."
"What are you having? It's on the house—consider it an early wedding gift."
"I don't really think I should be drinking…"
"You have to," says the Toad. "It's tradition." The Toad pours a long necked bottle of liquid into a shot glass. The label on the bottle looks to be in another language, perhaps a dialect of Sarasalian, though the script is hard to recognize and not really in use in most places anymore. "It's a pretty smooth tasting shot, but it's strong."
I take it all in one swig, throwing my head back expecting it to burn as it goes down my throat. It doesn't, it just feels abnormally cold. "Oh. That's not so bad."
The Toad smiles. "Why would I give you something bad?"
My eyes fall on my glass and I am thinking about home again. "Have you heard from anyone in the Kingdom in the last few weeks? Any family or friends?"
There's a lull in our conversation and I glance toward my party: Princess Zelda has arrived. She's from a distant land and I only know her by reputation, but one of the dancers is shaking his butt very near her face and she seems very upset over it.
"Toad Town and the area immediately around the castle have been evacuated. The rest of the country has pitched in to help and look after those that left, but other than that it seems to be more or less normal."
The area surrounding the castle encompasses thousands. "I wish there was a faster way to deal with all of this."
The Toad touches my arm. "Your people are in high spirits. They know you'll come back to them."
Someone latches onto me from behind as the music starts to thunder loader. "Oh no you don't!" Came a loud voice followed by a giggle. I turn to see Gretchen wiggling awkwardly from the affect of her drink. "Daisy said to tell me to tell you that you're not participating with us. You can't leave her until you get one dance!" Gretchen holds up a single finger, though the act of doing so seems to weaken her resolve to hold herself up.
"I'm not letting some strange man dance on me days before my wedding."
"Why not?" Gretchen demands sounding more like a child.
"Not to shame what anyone else likes, but it doesn't interest me. It just makes me miss my Mario."
Gretchen slaps twenty coin piece on the counter and drags me away. "That's it, you're going to the Pilot's Lounge!" She's got a good grip on my arm and being she is substantially stronger than me. Instead of breaking a heel trying to fight her, I fall into step behind her.
The Pilot's Lounge is actually several smaller private party rooms. I didn't know Daisy had reserved one of these things. When we step up to the two it's flanked by two muscular men meant to be guarding the door. Daisy and Lissette are passing out penis shaped straws when we enter. Lissette shoves one in Zelda's face.
"Have a gander at that, another pair testicles." Zelda says her face twisting into a mask of disgust as she accepts the straw.
Rosalina holds hers up to the light examining the subtle details that really shouldn't be on a straw. "That what they look like?"
As I pass by I snatch the straw out of her hand and toss it to the floor. "Let's go ahead and put a stop to that, shall we?"
The room is a dizzying set up, the three walls without the door are mirrors. Plush, red leather seats line the perimeter of the room and that's where my party sits.
Daisy lets out a loud woo. We're too old for woos. I'm all woo'd out. "The lady of the hour is here. Soon to be Queen Peach Toadstool!"
Lissette gives me a knowing look as she takes a sip from a glass.
"Okay, cheer if you want to see Peach take the pilot's tour of the cockpit?" Daisy asks. Our whole group screamed until it hurt my ears. She produces a pink blindfold with my house crest embroidered on the outside and steps in close to pull it right around my eyes. All I can see is smushed fabric. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Daisy's voice seems to come from far too close to my face.
"You realize I could just lie, right?" I ask. There's a small, blunt thud on my head. She just thumped me.
"Didn't see it coming, good."
Someone maneuvers me into a plush seat, seemingly at the back center of the room. I'm pushed to sit down and small hands adjust my placement so I'm where I'm needed.
The noise from the others dies out as bass heavy music thunders around me. My chest cavity is practically rattling it's so loud. I turn my head, trying to pick up any sound that might clue me in on which direction this person is coming from.
There's stifled cries of shock as someone enters the room. I try to follow where I think they might be. Queen Amy, who is nearer to me from what I can hear gasps. "I can't believe it."
The music drags into this deep trumpet solo and I feel pressure on the cushion immediately to the right of my leg. "My friends think this is what I want," I explain. "It is a nice gesture and I care for them deeply, but this is just not for me…"
All of the women in attendance let out a woo, though I hear a flutter of steps as someone leaves the room. The dancer pauses and I hear a chorus of chattering before he takes my hand in his chin with a rough grip. A little moan almost escapes, but bite down on my tongue and hold my mouth closed.
His hand clamps down on my shoulder, firm fingers steadying him as he moves against me. His body is pressed against mine now, his repetitive, smooth motion of dragging himself over me does feel exciting, but Daisy has gone too far.
My hand goes up to push him away, grazing the skin of his bare chest. What I can only imagine is the fur of his bomber jack laps at the back of my hand as he moves rhythmically. He grabs my hand pulling it away to a unanimous cheer from my so called.
"By order of the Princess of the Mushroom Kingdom stop these antics right now!" I shout twisting against his grip.
The blindfold is tugged up, catching briefly at the tip of my nose and then popping off to rest on my forehead. I'm left staring into Mario's large blue eyes. His breath fans my face and only then is it apparent how hot my cheeks are burning.
"This isn't funny." I say in a small voice that is drowned out by the music. "This isn't." He's wearing the outfit most of the dancers are: bomber jacket, tight little underwear, a pilot's hat seems optional. He has one.
Mario says nothing as he closes in on my face with his. He denies me the kiss at the last second. There's a tight pain of anticipation at my core waiting for him to rethink his choice, but he does the worst possible thing. With his hand poised on my cheek and his thumb at my lips, he pushes me into the mirrored wall so that my neck is tilted back.
His fingers are like brands on my skin, searing through me until the rawest parts of me show. He nuzzles the front of neck and exposed upper chest with his nose, lips and mustache. I fight the urge to give into this here. I know romance novels aren't truth; can you have an orgasm from this kind of thing.
If he causes me to have an orgasm in front of my friends and a group of royal dignitaries in this strip club, Mario won't make it to the altar alive.
I scan the room around me. Rosalina has gone. She probably left when this whole thing started. My brief distraction is ended when Mario pulls my face to his and kisses me. A valve has been opened somewhere inside of me and the pressure is vented off marked by the guttural sound I made into his mouth. A warm, numbing, relaxation floods my body.
He whispers: "I love you" into my ear and I melt.
Everyone is hollering and at first I think it's about the two of us. Daisy steps into view, shaking her head. "Oh no! No! Mario, you motherfucker!" She clambers back onto the red cushioned leather of the seats.
Luigi stands in the doorway with black Domino mask strapped to his face. He wears a black cowboy hat, boots with spurs, and has a sheriff's star attached via what I hope is just tape over his right nipple. This costume is totally off theme for the place, but I don't think it matters.
He advances on Daisy and hoists her up onto his shoulder, giving her butt a little slap as she struggles and kicks against him. She does nothing but laugh.
"I heard a report that this little lady's been bad," Luigi hollers in a voice deeper than his own. What the Hell is this character?
"You assholes are going to pay for this!" Daisy screams as Luigi twirls in circles with her slung over his shoulder.
With Mario present I can relax. The rest of the night is mostly a blur, because this is where the drinking starts. I spend the next hour or so curled up in my Mario's lap. This feels right. I didn't need to take a night to celebrate the end of my adventurous life and the changing of stages into this. Being with Mario isn't the death of fun and happiness for me.
More bottles with stronger liquor seem to just appear. Daisy seems to be some kind of alcohol fairy. Though it could be due to the presence of both the mayor of the city and the princess of the kingdom. Yeah, Pauline showed up later, just in time for her and Daisy to coax Lissette and Gretchen into doing shots off of each other.
Daisy explains the process to Samus next. "You hold the lime in your mouth…no open your mouth dummy," Daisy is wobbly on her feet. Even she can only drink so much. "Okay, then the salt!" Daisy lifts a salt shaker into the air as if she just found the one hundred-twentieth star and applies a generous amount to the exposed skin above Samus's bust-line.
She turns to Luigi with a shot in her hand. "Now, I drink," she taps him in the chest with her glass. "Then you." Luigi grabs a shot and downs it. His mask is now crooked. "Then salt and lime." Daisy buries her face in the flesh above Samus's breasts causing the bounty hunter to giggle before their mouths touch and Daisy takes the lime from Samus's.
Without missing a beat, Daisy pushes the lime wedge into Luigi's mouth, kissing him passionately around it.
"You want to try that?" Mario asks over Pauline's out of control laughter.
I shake my head. "I don't think I can do it. It looks like fun, but I'm not that brave."
Mario reaches up to adjust Luigi's cowboy hat on my head. When did that get there. "I think you're braver than you know. What about Zelda? Show her how it's done."
"Pretty sure Zelda is, like, seventeen. It's questionable whether or not she should even be in here."
"Wow."
"You know I am bad one on one with people I don't know. You've known this."
"Okay Peaches, you're up!" Daisy cries.
Oh no.
"Don't worry. I'll go easy on you," Daisy adds as she dumps salt onto her thumb.
"No, do your worst."
Daisy stares me in the eyes. "My worse? Okay." She plucks a fresh shot glass off the small stand in the center of the room and wedges it between her breasts tapping it with her nails to secure it. "You're lucky these big motherfuckers will hold it in place. If I was Lissette we'd have to send a search party in there after it…"
"Fuck you too, Daisy." Lissette yells through stifled laughter.
At first Daisy tries to steady her pouring to keep it off of her dress, but Luigi has to help her, the two of them managing to finish the job. Daisy sprinkles salt on the nape of her neck and puts a new lime in her mouth. "Kay," she manages around it.
There's no time to think about going back. I clamber out of Mario's lap, practically tackling Daisy. She's shorter than me and I have to stoop to get the cup to my lips, her breasts press in around my nose and mouth and the astringent burn of the liquor hits my tongue. It shouldn't feel like anything, Daisy's always waving her boobs in my face, but there's something overly exciting about it.
The salt is more awkward, I lick it from her neck as she giggles. "That tickles," she shrieks, her words muffled slightly by the lime.
And finally Daisy and I kiss with her passing the lime into my mouth. There's a triumphant shout from everyone in the room as I turn back and press the piece of fruit into Mario's mouth, locking lips with him and crawling onto his lap again.
This group, the royals and our friends, may never be in the same place again after this wedding. Hell, our world could change drastically. It's hard pin to pin down where it comes from, but there are these moments, usually ones you didn't expect to feel anything about, that become large tentpoles in your life. They're the memories you always go back to when you need that extra push.
Not sure why, but I could see this being that for me. Over the coming months I may need to remember what I'm fighting for and what happiness looks like.
Rosalina wanders the street, visibly upset, though not about what her mother expects. She hasn't trekked more than a couple of blocks from the building where the Cock Pit is located, but she needs to get this out and not be seen. She needs to remember what's at stake.
How do you tell someone their worst days are ahead of them? How do you tell someone that they're headed for life altering ruin that no combination of events can stave off?
She's a cosmic being, at least she thinks she counts as that now. Sometimes she feels immensely powerful and can move a blackhole or slow the explosion of a supernova so that she can watch the raw energy ripple through the galaxy.
Other things are obdurate; regardless of her actions they are unchanged or intervention makes them worse. Rosalina has learned to look for the markers of these things. She can mostly predict them now, though, on a cosmic scale she is still very young. She is still very stupid. Every time this has happened the urge to warn them or fix this has come up and yet hundreds of times now it's led to her repeating this same series of events.
"Miss! Excuse me, Miss!" A husky voice calls after Rosalina. She picks up the pace, not in the mood to be hit on or even asked directions.
"Miss…oh wait, you're like her? Maybe you can tell me where she is?"
She ignores the man still.
"Wait, you're something different too. You're of her type, but you don't belong to this reality. You're a remnant." Okay, that made her stop. "I apologize for the intrusion. I just need information."
Rosalina freezes, turning back to face the man. He's tall and slicked with rain. His curly black hair and beard glimmer with water, but he seems unbothered by the weather. His face is awkwardly vacant and there's something not at all human about his pose and expression. "Who are you? Answer me like your life depends on it." Taking a defensive posture, Rosalina levitates into the air, her party dress shimmering out of existence to become her regular long, swoop teal one and her wand appearing in her hand.
"My name is Geno from the Star Road. A Princess Toadstool made a wish that I could be at her wedding and I'm here to see it through."
