Purple, like the washed-out hue of the plastic bucket she had managed to salvage, forgotten amidst the chaos upon the balmy, abandoned shore. Casting it into the ocean again, the general emptiness of the area began to prick at her sharply, with all the iciness of the water she now waded deeper into. Nevertheless, she forged on. She had to, lest the failures of her brothers swallow her up and carry her away with the current. Subconsciously, her heels burrowed into the sand in six year-old defiance, churning of her stomach mirroring that of the waves. As another meal slipped away, she growled in frustration; another failure. Whatever, her brothers couldn't be faring much better. Wherever they were. Her focus lost, a rogue wave swept her off of her feet and receded with her in tow. When all else became a dull and distant roar, her mother's strident and bitter laughter throbbed in her ears, and she submerged herself in a memory that gleaned off the surface of the murky depths.

"They are good for nothing, useless…" Her mother had spat at no one in particular, her words battering the foundations of the house more severely than the storm outside could ever hope to achieve.

She had only meant to ask why her older siblings never seemed to be around anymore. Why she was responsible for most of the chores. Why she wasn't allowed to contact them to at the very least regurgitate her mother's ill tidings so they'd be forced to acknowledge her existence…did they even remember her? Instead, she fortified herself to withstand the swells of her mother's pent up fury, but despite her best efforts, she might as well have taken an umbrella out into a hurricane. Frightened, she had let out a strangled gasp as she choked on her own tears, and her mother forgot her anger just long enough to keep her from drowning in them. She had scooped her up and swayed to the rhythm of the tides, familiar, embedded in them both like grains of sand connected and packed by the brine of the sea. When both storms eventually subsided, she spoke gently, yet grimly, like the last weakened grumble of the retreating thunder.

"They have never done anything for you, my love, and never will. They are their father's sons." The venom in her tone had been palpable; she never mentioned the ghost that afflicted her so.

"But you are different, this I know. You will learn that the way of this world is to earn your keep on your own, and you will, so long as you remember that I will not always be here to fix your mistakes. Arm yourself accordingly, and you shall never be disappointed as I have."

Before she could speak, the numbness drained away, and she found herself roughly deposited back upon land; spat out of the ocean's graces faster than she had fallen out of her mother's, her only bucket deemed a more worthy prize. It stung. Everything stung. She had accumulated more superficial scrapes than she could count, and still would refuse to acknowledge the buzz of irritation that followed her into the water with only her steadfast determination to block out the screaming chorus of her nerves.

And yet…no, she would never be her brothers. Wordlessly, she pulled herself up, wiping her eyes before she could see her reflection in the thin sheen that coated the damp sand. With a huff of frustration at the loss of her utility, her anger rescinded. It would do her no good if it wasn't edible. She would get on as she always had, on her own.

The loss of her mother was but another notch on her belt, however, she did not wear the adornment with pride. Though, she supposed she wasn't being fair, her mother had said she wouldn't be around forever. But she hadn't assumed the warning would extend to the grisly discovery that awaited her face-down upon the shore one day while she had been scavenging, rigid and lifeless and tinged a few shades shy of the pail she had found the day before…perhaps it was for the best that she lost the bucket.

Her stomach rumbling angrily, the brutal scene faded away, its message all the more poignant. If she didn't act soon, she would die as well. Such was the way of the world. With that, she left her emotions as she left her footprints in the sand, to be washed away into the lull of oblivion.

Purple, like the beads that clacked and skittered away on the floor, ripped away from her wrist in a moment of blind fury. Guilt crept in at the destruction of what had been at the time a thoughtful gift from this…Bowser. He was certainly in a caliber of his own, and before tonight, she had no way of compartmentalizing what she thought of him…or of this place in general, truthfully.

It wasn't an escape as much as he made it out to be…she had just wanted some time on her own to fill in some of those blanks because after a while they became too glaring to ignore. She thought nothing of slipping out beyond the walls, reminded of the times before there was danger, when the world around her was hers to rule so long as she abdicated by sunrise. Her mother always hated it when she wandered…but it didn't really matter now.

Or rather she thought it didn't…it really shouldn't have mattered, but as she sat on a hill on the outskirts of castle, grateful that the stars above patched together a familiar vision of home unmarred by any sense of urgency or fear, that the queen of her childhood had been freed, able to reclaim what was rightfully hers after years…

In retrospect she should have expected this foreign king to be her undoing.

She did not expect him to be so angry with her though, and he yelled, gesticulating wildly like he were trying to break something invisible. He looked as though he had seen a ghost, and she felt momentarily sorry for him until she felt the beads of her bracelet pressing uncomfortably into her wrist like a haunting reminder of how constrained she really was.

It had been a birthday gift, albeit an extremely belated one. She had turned…something…in that room where they had all lived together, and she wouldn't have even known had it not been for eavesdropping and some quick math on Iggy's part. They did their best to celebrate but at the time it had been useless, none of them knew how long it had been anyways so she didn't even find out she had turned eight until it came out of Bowser's mouth months later like he had known the whole time.

He had been sheepish and smiled like he was trying, so she told herself she could forgive him for his tardiness because she didn't even really care that much about it and he never tried to make anything out of it like he never tried to make anything out of them for the little while they had been living there.

But then she had worn it, and suddenly there he was, reflected off of every plastic facet, appearing everywhere she went and she wondered now what it was he was really getting at. Who was this guy? More importantly, who did he think he was?

She began to struggle and scream then, and the irritation flew right off of his face as if he had been smacked. He blinked in surprise and let her go, but it was too late, too early for this, and she woke up the sky with how loudly she tore into him.

What was his problem? Where did he come from, and what did he want with her anyways? She never invited him anywhere but he always came and it was almost unsettling; no one had ever concerned themselves so much with her business and she hadn't even figured out who he was, let alone the terms and conditions of their relationship so why should she listen? Why should she let him lead her away from her own thoughts, pretending to be worried sick while fixing her back into place with the rest of the set because he had decided she belonged there? She had never needed anyone before, certainly not now, so unless he had come out here to execute her for high treason or something he had better try again, find a better excuse because…because…

Maybe if he just admitted whatever he was thinking it would have been enough to stop her, but he didn't. He only stared at her hopelessly until she had run out of air in her lungs, ran out of courage to continue, and she turned her back on him praying he'd just get the hint and leave before she'd have to think about it too much. But he didn't. He just stood there grimly, and while he said nothing, it was evident he had no intention of leaving her alone, so she stormed back into the castle herself, figuring it was better than being dragged. He hadn't followed her but she didn't care.

The door slammed behind her, echoing in the emptiness in the room she shared only with a window too high up to look out of. She had thought removing the bracelet would have made the place feel a little less like a prison but she took no satisfaction in shattering it, the place looked broken enough.

But unlike the bracelet, she decided, she didn't need anyone to help put her back together.

Purple, like the deep ugly hue of the liquid that sloshed around inside a glass bottle on the nightstand. It was nauseating to look at, and she immediately felt sicker than she had all week.

The mystery illness had struck her rather out of nowhere, in retrospect. She was more than happy to pin all of the blame on Roy, who had technically also gotten sick and before her, and despite this the both of them wheezed out laughter and chalked it up to having equally terrible immune systems in the sweltering humidity of the quarantine room they were banished to.

They had only been out in the rain too long, she had assumed, and though she was well-acquainted with its tendencies, she thought nothing of it once Morton had absolutely splattered her with mud, jumping aggressively into a nearby puddle like he was trying to create a shortcut to the core of the planet. In retrospect, she should have just written it off as an accident, but Lemmy had started laughing, prompting Roy to smirk the way he only did when he was about to do something stupid, and suddenly she couldn't simply go inside and clean herself off until every single one of her siblings were utterly buried in the dirt.

To his credit, Roy did apologize when it was all said and done. When sickness stripped them of all their energy the pretenses crumbled, and they lied there for days, regarding one another freely and candidly from across the room like they were right there for the first time in a while. It was annoying, she would eventually admit, to constantly be singled out, and while she was sure that they meant nothing by it, the fact that no one seemed to ever wonder how she felt when those pre-made alliances they all appeared to have with one another left her defenseless and alone out there in the rain.

"Hardly defenseless. Iggy's still pickin' mud out of his hair and uh…I'm pretty sure you threw a rock at me."

"Well what do you guys expect? When no one's in your corner you do what you gotta do…"

She had hoped that things would be different, but as little credit she would lend to her mother's words it began to look as though she were right about one thing at least...but she didn't want to imagine that she was truly destined to be alone. Maybe that was just a part of growing that she was foolish to refuse, but it never stopped her from wondering what it was like to be one of them.

"Wendy…you're my sister, okay? I'll always be in your corner. Just…so long as you promise not to throw anything else at me…I'm beat enough as it is…"

Another wave of heat hit her, painting her cheeks a shade darker. She was way too warm but she had to laugh at that, though it was sickly and weak, certainly not loud or triumphant enough for her brothers to hear her from the horizon, but it sufficed, and she was content to lose the rest of that night floating through Roy's incoherent stream of consciousness as he babbled about literally nothing with such a dedicated conviction that it meant everything to her.

But Roy got better, and left as they all inevitably did. It was as unsurprising as it was stupid and probably a selfish thought, but nevertheless the room was much chillier without him.

It wasn't as though it were anything new, it did her no good to wish and wonder and hope. She'd just have to make do with what she had and ride it out…the rain outside poured steadily like it was only a matter of time before it would flush her out to sea again, and suddenly she was wheezing 10 years' worth of water out of her lungs.

It didn't make it any easier to breathe and she was starting to panic. Tears pricked at her eyes as she choked, what was happening? Her body rattled and shivered, and her thoughts became clouded and polluted and they slipped through her fingers before she could grab on to anything.

She thought she heard the door fly open but it could have just been the thunder, it was difficult to tell. Outside and inside clashed, scenery and sounds melding together like smeared paintings spontaneously sprayed off, and her stomach bottomed out like she were following the colors down the drain.

Her vision went dark the deeper into that chasm she fell, and she remembered just how imposing it seemed, having every little unidentifiable sound amplified against the stone walls of that hidden cavern until a now familiar and comforting blend of voices echoed for the first time, and every time after until they all finally departed together.

Roy's laughter was distant as she, the newly minted middle child, used to try to fit in between him and Morton, but it felt tangible, like it lied just beyond the surface of her disoriented state, but she was too exhausted to do anything for herself now. Embarrassing as it was to be felled in her own element, by her own brothers, laid so low by a stupidly persistent cold because despite her best efforts, her body couldn't just handle it on its own…desperate as she was to fight back if it meant she wouldn't have to face her mother…

She was…alone…? No. Someone-who…?

It was a light feeling and she barely registered it, but she pursued it fiercely until she managed to drag herself out of her delirium long enough to recognize that someone had just brushed her face. She was sweating, wrapped a little too tightly in blankets in a way that perhaps explained a little too much and she was definitely leaning way too heavily on whoever the culprit was, slumped entirely in their lap in a less than graceful manner.

Roy. He-was he here? What's he-?

"…go…stupid…gonna get…sick…again…" she croaked out, it was still frustratingly painful to speak, though in retrospect, she lost her voice long before-

She must have caught him off guard because he laughed. Nothing about it was familiar and she froze.

Awareness percolated slowly, the faint taste of that sickening syrup emerged and her cheeks grew even warmer as she moved to sloppily wipe away at the sticky remnants of medicine on her chin. Bowser looked back at her and grinned, if a bit apologetically.

This was…weird…she hated being awkward, but she had nothing else to fall back on really, what was she supposed to…this was all just so humiliating…

"I'm good, don't worry 'bout me. Kamek says I ate dirt as a kid so I'm pretty sure this old immune system's rock solid. Nothin' it ain't seen before."

She snorted abruptly, sending her into another coughing fit but it reminded her too much of her brother for her to not find it amusing. It was bittersweet, losing the energy she had worked so hard to keep over something so ridiculous, but it was harder and harder for her to be embarrassed when he made her laugh this easily. He held her still long after they began to subside, and after being tossed around for days-well, years-on end, the grounding presence he had at times she could at least appreciate while her brain cells refused to operate. It was almost nice, like the discovery of a solution to a hugely tangled and ugly matted mess of a question that was right there in front of her the whole time. Stupid, but nice…it was really weird how these things always seemed to work themselves out without thinking…

"Wendy, you really should be taking this. It's kind of how medicine works…"

She was fading again, and sure enough, no sooner had he started that thought he seemed to abandon it. He just pulled her in again, placed the bottle back onto the table beside an earnest, but tepid bowl of soup he had brought along, hummed at the rumble of the storm that raged outside and drowned it out with his own voice, expositing upon the various crimes her brothers had committed in the kitchen until the world fell away again.

She drank more of the disgusting concoction in the morning herself; she hadn't the heart to disturb him any more than she already had, especially when he had taken it upon himself to stay like they were somehow in this fight together…it was still too early to tell.

Regardless, she was sure to leave some left over for him, just in case.

Purple, like the gem that gleamed atop the wand it was fixed to. He had promised they would be together and yet for all the pandemonium the world had never fallen so silent. She had momentarily wished the water around her wasn't so bright and vibrant, its reflections were insidious, and she suddenly sorely missed the murky choppy waves of her home; at least they were good at keeping secrets.

It made her feel out of place, and though she knew it to be true, it didn't stop her from continuing on, by now it was the only thing she knew. Guards called to her, screaming, following in a futile hot pursuit but she was safe and they knew it. She had the experience to draw from and for once an upper hand, bounding into the ship she emerged from faster than they could muster any significant resistance.

It was too easy, but her worries were never for her own safety, and though she had at a moment been fully encircled by them, she made sure to carve time out of her daring escape to check they were still breathing after the wand had dispatched them.

She had done her part, but it was not as fulfilling as she had hoped it would be. The magic had piqued her interest though, she would have to ask Kamek about it later, if anyone knew what power it possessed it would be him. If he ever came back…

She missed him. She missed all of her brothers and she couldn't afford to back out now when they were all relying on her but…the more she thought of Kamek the more she wondered how she had ever allowed herself to end up here, how any of them managed to get caught up in this mess…

She had been decidedly irritated with Bowser over the whole matter, avoiding him at virtually all costs, because she knew she'd never get through to him. But when he began to prepare her oldest brother for his departure weeks ahead of schedule, she became truly panicked. The two spent more time together than she was comfortable with and a sickening fear began to bubble forward until she could no longer keep her mouth shut. She had to know if she was the only sane person left now.

"Ludwig-! Surely you know this is crazy, right?"

He had sagged slightly, but wouldn't turn to face her, like he were expecting whatever was to come with an exasperation he had finely tuned over the years.

"…Yes…but this isn't for me to decide-"

"That's a load of crap and you know it! Unless there's something going on here that I don't know about?"

"…Wendy, please…I have a lot to do…"

She had turned him around then, forcing him to drop the bundle of papers he had been shuffling through, but he made no move to retrieve them, though his look was impatient so she continued.

"…Remember that time when Roy tried to beat your ass over food? He was sick and stupid, stumbling all over the place…coulda knocked him out if you pushed him over. But you never touched him. Just talked him into sittin' down and shuttin' up and you fed him-fed me, fed Morton…even though you never met us and didn't have to. I never thanked you for that."

"…Where are you going with this?"

"It was the right thing to do. It was food out of your own stomach but you did it anyways. Even before you were my brother, I never felt like you expected us to repay you for your kindness. And how could we? We were just kids, and we still are, really. And Bowser is…well…definitely not a stranger to us, I suppose, I don't think him the type to demand blind allegiance in return for his kindness. We didn't sign up for this Ludwig, he knows that, he shouldn't expect this of us…or of you."

Her brother had bristled slightly but his face splintered with confliction. He was quick to paint over it with an almost authoritative stoicism that didn't quite set, and his eyes somehow managed to betray him despite revealing absolutely nothing.

"Perhaps not then, but times have changed. He believes us to be capable, and many of us are quite willing it would seem…Though I do wish there were another way, you know as well as I that it's more complex than that. He's done so much for us Wendy, to turn my back on him now would be…oh, I couldn't bear to disappoint him like that…I just want what's best for everyone…"

"You never lead us wrong before…do you really think this is what's best?"

"…"

"…Come with me. Rumor has it Kamek's bailing-he thinks this is just as nuts as we do. Not sure where he's going but it's gotta be better than wherever Bowser's sending us…Please Ludwig, I can't convince the others, but you…they'll listen to you…I just know this isn't who you are."

She noticed him shrink a bit, and for a split second her oldest brother had disappeared, shying away almost, picking up his forgotten papers with a despondence like he had just been reprimanded.

"…You don't know who I am."

"Ludwig-?"

"Go. Join him if you wish. But you'll be joining him alone. I hope to see the both of you soon enough."

"You can't be serious! Your parents were diplomats for cryin' out loud! And now you're sayin' you wanna go full warmonger on me? Doesn't this matter to you? Isn't it like, your legacy to at least try to keep the peace?"

She hadn't realized how desperate and angry she sounded until she felt the heat around her, blown back in her face by Ludwig's now icy demeanor.

"My parents are dead, Wendy. My legacy is my own now, and I believe that we have a place here. We aren't frightened refugees anymore, he's given us everything-among it all, a purpose, the ability to make a difference…late as it may be…I promised all of you more than I could have ever hoped to give you back then but now…he has given me the power to fulfill them. If you won't stand with the rest of us, I will respect it; you've always made your own decisions…but I implore you to start looking forward instead of back. I stand with Lord Bowser. Someone has to answer for us, so they might as well answer to us."

He sighed heavily, setting his papers down to fix the hairs that had fallen across his face.

"…Please understand…"

"…I do, trust me, I do, I…this is just too much, you know? I don't know what to do, I just…I don't want to be alone…"

Ludwig's expression softened at that, and he had taken her hands in his with a tenacity he hadn't demonstrated since the day they met.

"Then we should stick together."

And here she was…it had truly been too easy.

She supposed Bowser only wanted what they all wanted, and she had to admit that among all of the things that still haunted her, at her core she was the most at home here, alongside the family she fashioned herself, and when it was all said and done she had emerged, living proof that good things could come out of terrible situations as often as terrible ideas came out of good people.

Bowser was something else, for sure. He may have gone off the deep end, but she found that she and her brothers, for better or for worse, wouldn't hesitate to dive in after him. That's what family was supposed to do, anyhow. She wasn't about to let this slip through her fingers like all those fish she never caught, square one was unbearable and cruel and desolate. So she would stand and fight for her version of good before the currents carried it out and away, beyond the horizon where all the unsalvageable, unreachable things went.

Still, for once, she was thankful for the solitude.

Age:

1) 6

2) 8

3-4) 10.5