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A pic of Vexen. Yeah, Vexen, of all people.
I felt like doing something, and I was experimenting with guidelines. First time I've ever used guidelines and it came out pretty good.
And the writing says:
"Simply Misunderstood
Vexen"
In case you can't read it.

Link:
http://i201.photobucket.com/albums/aa13/flutist1723/misunderstood.png

CnC, please!

A/N: This story is FULL of out of character of the members of Organization XIII. If you don't like for the characters to be misrepresented, I suggest you not read this. But I don't think it'll be a problem.

Also, the girl's name (Roxes) is pronounced Roh-zes, not like Roxas.

Okay, on with the first part of the story.

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A man with pale pink hair sprinkled water over a small patch of orchids. His dark sapphire eyes studied the darkening sky as he moved his hand gradually to give the plants their much-needed water. He had been too busy to make his way to his precious greenhouse since two weeks before, and the soil had begun to dry out.

He was finishing his round when he heard a loud thump outside the greenhouse. The muffled sound attracted his attention. He looked to the door, where the sound had come from, and saw a girl leaning on the glass, her back to him. She slid down the side of the building and put her head in her hands, her dark brown hair pulled into a small ponytail. The man coiled the water hose onto the ground slowly, his eyes still on the girl. His shoulder-length hair streaked his vision as he looked to the side and bent over his task. Finally, he made his way to the door. When he opened it, the girl fell onto her back and into the moist atmosphere in the greenhouse. Her bloodshot eyes stared up at him from the ground. She stumbled from her place on her back and settled on her knees, her face to the ground.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. Please forgive me,” the girl begged. The pink-haired man knelt in front of the girl and put a hand on her shoulder. She flinched back, debating on whether or not to flee. Her eyes stared up at him slowly with bloodshot hazel eyes.

“My name is Marluxia,” was all the man said. His voice was deep and clear. At the sound, the girl shuddered. Marluxia wondered if he had done anything to offend her.

“I’m Roxes,” she finally replied. Marluxia stood and held his hand out to her. She took it reluctantly and he pulled her from the ground. He put his arm around her shoulders and led her out of the greenhouse, closing the door behind them. The cool, crisp night air was a far cry from the moist warm air in the greenhouse. The pair walked down a dark set of stairs and into a brightly lit hallway. Out of the hall, they descended two more stories to the ground floor.

“Hey, Marl--” another man began, but stopped when he was met with the sight of the young girl he had by the shoulders. “I never knew you were a cradle-robber,” he added, laughing. Marluxia ignored his insult and sat down on a leather couch in the living room area. The girl sat beside him, saying absolutely nothing. Her white tank top was splotched with dry blood, and her face was smudged with what appeared to be nothing but dirt.

“That’s not funny, Axel. This girl is in trouble. I don’t know what happened to her, but she just appeared at the door of the greenhouse. She’s been crying,” Marluxia said. Axel stood in front of the two, his hands on his hips. His emerald eyes were bright with feigned concern.

“How'd she get to the roof, I wonder?” he inquired sarcastically. He laughed and walked away, into the connected kitchen. The girl shifted to stand out of Marluxia’s grasp. Marluxia watched her carefully as she just stood in front of him. Her denim shorts were slightly loose and covered to her mid-thigh. Her hands balled into fists suddenly and she gasped, falling to her knees. Marluxia did nothing, he just watched her. He figured there was nothing he could do. She covered her face with her hands and her body began to shudder slightly. All at once, it seemed like the pressure on her body dissipated and she fell limply to the floor.

“Who is that girl? Who brought her here?” asked a commanding voice. Marluxia stood from the couch and faced the man who had spoken. The Superior looked at him, his tawny eyes threatening.

“Her name is Roxes. That’s all I know. That’s all she would tell me. I don’t know how she got here. I found her on the roof out by the greenhouse,” Marluxia replied. He was used to being intimidated by Xemnas, so speaking to him was no longer a challenge.

“Why did you not leave her there? This is not an orphanage. She looks like she is old enough to care for herself,” Xemnas replied emotionlessly. Marluxia looked back at the crumpled form on the floor. She appeared to be asleep. Obviously she had gone through something terrible.

“If you’ll just give me a chance, I’ll care for her. She can’t be older than sixteen. There’s no way she’d survive in The World That Never Was. It’s too dangerous,” the lower-ranked man begged. Xemnas just laughed.

“Roxas is a mere fifteen years old, and he survives,” he pointed out. Marluxia sighed, again glancing at the broken girl on the floor.

“Roxas also has training and us to protect him. She would have no one,” he said. Xemnas was silent, his golden brown eyes now averting from Marluxia to the girl. Everything he had been taught told him to let her be thrown into the world, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the begging of his member, and perhaps it was something else. Whatever it was, he assented.

“Fine, you may care for her, on one condition. No one else in the Organization is to know she is here,” he explained to Marluxia. Marluxia nodded, but then stopped Xemnas before he left.

“Axel already knows, sir,” he remembered. Xemnas nodded.

“I will inform Axel right away that he is to tell no one of her presence, then,” he replied. Marluxia nodded. Xemnas walked away, his silvery gray hair falling just below his shoulders in the back. Finally, Marluxia’s azure eyes averted his Superior and he looked back at Roxes.

“Looks like it’s just you and me then,” he muttered to the sleeping figure. He gently picked her up, careful not to wake her. Her slow breathing was the only thing that even signified that she was alive.

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There ya go. I hope you guys like it.