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"Secret Life of a Weak Bottled Faerie" by sevengelina
Weak Bottle Faeries - pet owners of Neopia think nothing of us, really. In our home, we can’t send you on quests or wait for you in a beautiful glade. Sure, we bless you with a special power that can help in battle, and be a really good night light when it gets dark. But for the most part, we simply sit, wait, and wish to be uncorked.
For the most part.
But it’s time that someone inform you about what it is we really do. Bottled Faeries are an anomaly of our own kind, because in our bottle, we don’t exist under the same rules that other citizens of Neopia do. It’s true – we can do whatever we want. And that makes us quite interesting for a trapped little thing, doesn’t it? In our respective bottles, we rule our own world, and most importantly, we observe yours too.
|Princesses, Palaces and Pranks|
Cadria was not your average Aisha. Born into one of Neopia’s most powerful families, Cadria was the heiress to a small fortune, and the hefty expectations accompanying such wealth. Yet, Cadria was not your average rich Aisha either. Cadria, much to the exasperation of her high-flying parents, was rather, well… difficult.
|The Secret Life of a Weak Bottled Faerie|
Weak Bottle Faeries - pet owners of Neopia think nothing of us, really. In our home, we can’t send you on quests or wait for you in a beautiful glade. Sure, we bless you with a special power that can help in battle, and be a really good night light when it gets dark. But for the most part, we simply sit, wait, and wish to be uncorked
For the most part.
|Extreme Potato Counter: The Game Guide|
A Yellow Wocky with a stylish mohawk approaches you and asks for your help counting potatoes. You figure, how hard can that be? Little do you know that this particular Wocky likes to count potatoes in a rather extreme fashion, but no need to fear! Our goal here is to help make counting these potatoes as painless and easy as possible.
Also by drobit.
|The Legacy of the Black Pawkeet: Part Three|
As I cut some vegetables to add to the omelets, my sharp ears picked up the sound of footsteps approaching my house. Who could that be? None of the other villagers were usually up at this hour. It couldn’t be a group of young’uns trying to play a prank either; these footsteps belonged to adult men. I bit my lip nervously and headed toward the backdoor, keeping a tight grip on the knife I’d been using.
Also by medit92
|The Sorceress and the Prisoner: Part Seven|
Master Vex paced up and down the cold dungeon. A drip of water persistently hit his head, but he was used to this as he walked this walk every morning and every night. He had been doing so for the past twenty years; nothing was new anymore.