![]() ![]() But review anyway (I might do another one along the same lines or something. I will NOT continue this and this time I MEAN it! Seriously! SERIOUSLY SERIOUSLY SERIOUSLY I will not continue it. And this is just a random, sweet, twisted fanfic. I just wanted to write something involving a horribly perverted Genis (‘Cause I’m weird like that). This is just meaningless and twisted, and if you don’t like this, please don’t judge my fanfics as they aren’t really anything like this. *sigh* though I don’t claim credit for having found it! ANYWAY, yes. I don’t think soĪuthor’s Note: This fic was completely inspired by a piece of fanart which I found on a site and it really got to me ^.^ If you want, leave your e-mail in the review and I suppose I can send it to you. And so he convinces Lloyd to do what they used to do. At the beach in Altamira, Genis misses the way him and Lloyd used to play, before their adventure began. Summary: A quick one-shot I had to write. So let me say right now: I -am- the original author of this story, back finally after a year and a half of absence. ![]() Well, I'm not anymore, so it's back (hopefully for good). For the inn that was placed on the crossroads leading between Iselia and Triet, many still called it a House of Salvation whenever they passed by the structure.Bonus Disclaimer: For those of you that haven't seen this fic in a while, it was taken down because I was underage at the time. It wasn’t such a surprise as to why they still did- for ever since it was claimed by the new owners, not much was done to change the original architecture. It still maintained its two stories, shaped like a pillar, with a great open area inside on the first floor. Where once the symbols of Martel would be decorated along the walls with banners and silk, where the humble statue of Spiritua would be placed on the small prayer dais in the front, with mats on the floor to cushion a worshipper’s knees, it was now just a general dining area for visitors, with an innkeeper’s counter placed to the side. The prayer alcove had been converted to a delicacy stand, selling the innkeeper’s homemade treats they had baked for the day. Upstairs were still the rooms for the weary to rest, once mainly meant for those on a pilgrimage. ![]() But many didn’t really go on pilgrimages anymore – none but the very devout few, who still believed in the Goddess that now watched over a newly remade world. Mara didn’t really think much about that really. Seeing the time as the sun lowered in the sky, she stepped out of the barely renovated inn, a broom in hand, and proceeded to sweep up the dirt on their front steps. But the broom was a little too tall for her, and she struggled to keep it elevated just right as she went about her task. Then again, business had been slow these days, and it wasn’t like there were patrons around to keep up appearances for… She also hadn’t done the laundry recently, so her dress was a mixture of dust and polka-dots, and her boots were scuffed from the mud from a few days back when she had to handle a few maintenance tasks in the rain. Her brother hadn’t been back for many hours. He had left this morning for the nearest town, and already it was practically sunset, the horizon letting her know with its orange glow. ![]()
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