Chapter 2 - In the Garden of Evil

Marluxia had but two passions in his non-life.

One of which was for power, which he was intent on obtaining and wielding to the best of his ability.

The other was for his flowers, which resided in a rather nice greenhouse he had produced in his chambers that basked in an imaginary sun and thrived with his prescence.

Two very useful passions to have, as they rhymed and had the potential for remarkable poetry.

Unfortunately, Marluxia had neither the capacity nor the interest to write poetry for his passions. Rather, he spent his time creating long, lengthy, ultraviolet odes of prose to his pursuits. And it drove the rest of his coworkers mad.

Many a night in the Castle That Never Was was filled with the sound of Marluxia's elegant voice, drifting from his chamber or somewhere in the vast hallways. It was a pleasant sort of thing... for the first five minutes. Then it just positively got on your nerves. Xigbar was a rather vocal opponent of Marluxia's "release of emotion," as he artfully put it ("We don't have emotions, fool," Xaldin would smoothly remind him, only to be ignored), and on those frequent many-a-nights, Marluxia's voice would be countered by a rough and angry, "DUDE, JUST SHUT UP ALREADY. I'M TRYING TO GET SOME SLEEP."

Marluxia didn't listen to Xigbar very often.

Few got a good night's sleep in the Castle That Never Was.

A rather obvious flaw of Marluxia's penchant for speeches is that he had absolutely no mental privacy.

It was almost as if the man had no inner monologue; he would speak long and lengthily if he thought that the choice of food for that evening's dinner was "abysmal," or if he particularly enjoyed a book, exploring each plot twist and piece of character development with words that would probably cause skin cancer, given the chance to gain tangible form. To Marluxia, there was no such thing as a spoiler warning.

Xemnas was even fully aware of his desire to overthrow the Organization in a violent uprising, and planned on placing him on a mission with Axel somewhere far away and letting nature -- in the form of his distrust of anyone that wasn't blond, had blue eyes, and a Keyblade wielder -- take its course.

Larxene didn't want that to happen just yet, though. She had other, greater plans in mind.

A few days after her attempt at Roxas, while reading calmly in her room, she heard Marluxia reciting a grandiose poem of ecstasy to a particular corner of his garden, and a thin smile appeared on her face. She put down her copy of "Animal Sedation For Fun and Profit" and opened a portal into Marluxia's chamber.

"Oh darling lovlies," Marluxia said, practically singing, "oh my little children. How beautiful you are!"

The subject of Marluxia's speech of adoration that afternoon was a thin rectangle of boxed earth that held some particularly dangerous plants he lovingly based on his fellow Nobodies. Reaching a gloved hand towards the Xigbari Freeshootrum, the pale-violet blossoms opened and floated away into the air at his touch, and he laughed a little. "My sweet little babies, how lovely you smell! How perfect you are!" The Xaldinus Lancet nearby swayed in a non-existant breeze as he passed. "Oh my children, how much better are you than flesh! Oh darlings, you know how I ask Superior every day to put a little more foliage, but does he listen? Oh, that fool doesn't listen." Marluxia reached to a nearby shelf and grabbed a metal watering can, and approached the Demyxa Nocturna, a spiky-looking plant with many "pods" covered in hairs that ended in dew-covered drops; squeezing one of the pods, an unrealistic amount of water poured from his clenched fist and into the watering can, and returned to its previously round state as Marluxia went to water the rest of the nothing-plants, humming as he went.

"Tomorrow, I think I will give some attention to your brothers in the flesh-eating corner, don't you think, my sweet pets?" he said, and leaned in to have a smell of Axelum Flurrifa, a peppery scent that soon gave way to smoke as he came too close, and the center of the flower emitted a small ball of red flame. Grabbing his hair and putting out the minor fire, he heard a small laugh from behind.

"You should be more careful, Marluxia," said Larxene.

"Ah, thank you, Larxene," Marluxia said, not very kindly. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I let myself in," she said.

"So it would seem," he replied. "What are you doing in here?"

"Just admiring your... marvelous collection of flora here," Larxene said, honeying each word carefully. "It's really quite amazing, Marluxia."

"Why, thank you," Marluxia said, feeling the slightest swell of pride in his chest. "They are nice, aren't they?"

Larxene nodded, and approached the plot of earth, passing behind Marluxia and ever-so-slightly trailing her fingers on his butt, in an almost accidental manner. Marluxia stiffened up slightly; it tickled.

"So what's this one called?" she asked him, approaching a rather thick-looking bush with waxy red leaves. "It reminds me of Lexaeus, for some reason."

"It's the Lexausor Herois, actually," Marluxia, attempting to sound as matter-of-fact as possible. "Larxene, did you just--"

"And what about this one?" she continued, pointing to a spindly, unhealthy-looking thing with thin, silver-blue leaves. "Doesn't look like it's doing so good."

"That's the Zexionus Cloakeno," Marluxia said, "and it's doing quite well, thank you very much. Most of it's underground."

"How apt," said Larxene smoothly, and leaned in to view a particularly beautiful pale flower that stood on a single, thin stalk in its plot of earth. "And I wonder what this one is?" She stroked the feathery surface of the puffball-like thing, and Marluxia found himself growing suddenly worried.

"Wait, that's--" he began, but was too late as the plant split in two and bit Larxene's finger with a snarl. "...Saixus Divina," Marluxia ended.

Larxene brooded a little, freeing her finger from the plant and watching the blood bead up from her torn glove; the plant snarled and opened and closed its "mouth," as if sampling the taste with delight. "Oww, now why do you have one of these, Marluxia?" she said in a pout that was borderline mockish. "How utterly inconvenient." She delicately placed her finger in her mouth and sucked the blood away, her eyes heavy and seductive as her tongue moved over the surface of her glove; the nothing-fabric repaired itself nearly instantly, but her mouth remained on the finger. "Kiss to make it better, Eleven?"

Marluxia found himself slightly flustered, and very confused. "Are you feeling all right, Larxene?"

"Oh, I'm fine, it's just..." she said, and sighed in an expression of utter patheticness. "Marluxia, I feel... empty."

"I think you'd expect that," Marluxia replied, and swallowed slightly. "We don't have hearts."

"Yes, I know..." said Larxene, and balanced her finger on the edge of her bottom lip. "I want to feel like I have one, though. I'm hungry."

"...hungry," Marluxia repeated, and Larxene nodded.

"Marluxia, don't you ever... get lonely here, with nothing but these flowers around?" she asked.

"Lonely? No, not really," Marluxia replied, going from vaguely-confused to extremely. "Whatever could you mean, Twelve?" he asked in all seriousness.

"You don't like speaking with the rest of us," Larxene said. "Don't you ever want some... human contact?"

Marluxia stood there, thinking this over for a short while, as Larxene looked up at him, her finger still poised in her mouth. "Contact? I get plenty of interaction at meals, Larxene," he replied.

"That can't be fufilling," Larxene said, and slowly approached him, her arms rising and beginning to wrap around his shoulders; he was frozen, not quite sure what to do. So, he tried to say something logical.

"Get your arms off my shoulders, Larxene," he said.

"Come on, Marluxia," she said, her voice soft and sweet. "There's nobody here but the flowers to watch us... why don't we try pollinating?"

Before he could protest, she jumped up and pressed her lips against his, and it wasn't long before Marluxia found himself kissing back.

-///-

Not long after, Larxene untangled herself from Marluxia's sleeping form, and zipped her jacket back up. A bed of roses had mysteriously appeared around the spot where they had fallen, blooming in the fit of passion. Larxene made no effort not to step on them as she left.

Marluxia, naked as a mole rat, curled up in the petals. "Mmm... moonflowers..." he moaned softly, and she sighed.

"How utterly sentimental, nearly makes me sick," she replied, and produced the notebook. "Hm, that wasn't so bad. Wonder how Luxord'll do?"

XI - Marluxia: A bit too passive, let me be on top. Pesky flowers got in the way a few times. Great kisser. Uses strawberry gloss...? B+.