Random super angst question that you don't have to answer if you don't want to: if each Mario bro were to lose their twin via death, how would that affect each of them respectively? (BADLY, obviously, but in what ways do you think they would each change based on what their personalities already are?)
For the sake of painting a picture, Iâm going to presume that the death is the early and tragic result of heroism. If this is the case I think both their stories would follow similar paths:
A breakdown in their self care
An irrevocable change in their personality
Eventually finding some solace after being moved out of their house and living in Peachâs castle
Mario would grieve in whatever way he thinks should be ânormal,â then do his best to get back to work; more specifically, he throws himself entirely into plumbing projects and protecting The Mushroom Kingdom. He is motivated by both a desire to honor his brotherâs memory, and a determination to be strong enough to prevent such a loss from ever happening again. However, everyone who knows him can see he isnât coping as well as he pretends he is: his smile is forced, his interactions are stilted, heâs lost a lot of weight, and he is unsettlingly reckless. He never goes home, and spends most nights sleeping in random locations depending on where the latest job or act of heroism brought him. When Peach finally requests for him to move into her castle, she has to look for him for some time before, eventually, discovering him dozing in a patch of flowers that had been planted next his brotherâs memorial.
Eventually, after Marioâs finally been placed in an environment where he feels permission to fully feel his own griefâ a place to scream and rant about everything he wishes he had done right, a place to cry openly and freely, and space where he is permitted to not act like the hero he feels heâs supposed to beâ he begins to resemble his old self. His laugh sounds genuine again, he is carrying out natural conversations, he gains some weight back, and he generally doesnât look like heâs silently withering away. Heâs not as happy and confident as he used to be, and he canât ever quite shake the fear of losing someone else, but he is able to move forward with some sense of normalcy.
Luigi, on the other hand, would be more inclined to immediately be swallowed up by his own grief. In the few instances that he can pull himself out of bed, he is aimless and confused, unable to even put on the pretense of piecing himself back together. This, he interprets that as a personal moral failure, compounded by the fact that whenever he does make an effort to protect The Mushroom Kingdom in his brotherâs stead, he inevitably gets hurt, and somebody else has to pick up the slack.
When Peach reaches out to bring Luigi to the castle, itâs easy to find him. Heâs lying in bed, surrounded by a neglected home that he once tended with impeccable care and detail. Finding him was easy, the hard part is convincing him that he should stay with her. She pleads that she doesnât see him as weak or a failure for how heâs reacted to the loss, and she does genuinely want him around⌠not just because sheâs his friend and is worried, but because she needs someone else to speak to who knew Mario as well as she didâ if not better.
Eventually, Luigi allows himself to be brought to his new home in the castle. Thereâs many nights where he and Peach just stay up talking; usually about Mario, but eventually they start talking about other things, too. In time Luigi finds some level of healing in taking care of the palace garden, and juggling a few social projects to keep himself occupied. Whenever a situation arises that requires heroism he is on the front lines, but never aloneâ sometimes joined by the best-trained palace guards, but most often accompanied by Peach, to whom he has become a closest friend and confidant. Some Toads say that Luigi has really come into his own after learning to live without his brother, but The Princess alone knows that despite how much he has healed, he is consistently burdened by a heavy sadness that wonât ever truly go away. A sadness that she understands better than anyone.
