Within minutes of arriving in the galaxy, the yellow Lumas were red, the red ones were blue, the blue ones were green, and the green one were yellow. And some of them were every colour and then some.
As Rosalina watched from a safe distance, the Lumas slathered paint on anything they could find: the ground, the giant coloring pencils dotted around the landscape, each other. Rosalina thinks that if they could, they would paint the sky.
Paint wasn't something that the Lumas were allowed in the observatory, due to it just being so messy. So when she announced a trip to Rolling Masterpiece, the Luma went wild with excitement. And when they arrived, they didn't even hesitate before diving right into the paint - literally.
It wasn't a problem. There was no such thing as mess in Rolling Masterpiece, only art. It was a place for people to express their creativity in any way they desire, and if it causes a little chaos, then so be it.
When Mario rolled his way through there there was no art being made. Everyone had been chased away by the Goombas and other terrifying creatures. Now that they had been, ahem, permanently removed, the artsy folk had returned, with some new arrivals, in droves.
Rosalina smiled as her Lumas laughed and squeaked and sang happily as they create their very own masterpiece. She loved seeing them happy. It made her happy in return, to know that her children were having fun and enjoying themselves.
But there was a small part of her that was tense, that was holding its breath, anticipating the inevitable moment when two would start arguing, disrupting the others and causing them to start arguing with each other, and then the peace would be irrevocably shattered.
Sure enough, Cosma and Orion began to bicker loudly over which colour to use and how much of it, and Rosalina swooped over there in no time flat, intent on resolving the conflict before it escalated.
She knew that she would get paint on her dress, but she could worry about that later.