|A Key Quest StoryRyan looked inside the box he was holding and sighed. The Key Quest arcade had been undergoing renovations for what seemed like forever. The Green Kacheek bought this token for his younger brother just days before he found out about the closing. He had been holding on to it ever since.|
|Pick Your Own: Experiences of an ExplorerI've always heard tales of the wonderful oasis known as the Meri Acres farm. My friends had told me about the wonderful adventures to be had. They told me about how they had wandered for hours, filling their baskets to the brim with the delicious fruits (but mainly berries) of their labor. I knew, however, that Meri Acres didn’t actually exist. |
|Bedtime Storiesost of all though, I love my pets, the two bundles of fluff that keep life interesting and give me reason to smile each day. I reminded myself of this at one o'clock in the morning. I love my pets. I do. |
|No Small MatterThree steps into the belly of the beast, and already Yuzell was getting cold feet.|
|Origins: Ethel BoortzWith a sigh, Ethel Boortz slowly eased her way up out of her rocking chair, crossed the porch, and made her way down the steps towards her young grandchildren. "Michah and Kayla, what did I tell you about Yooyball matches?" |
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"Origins: Ethel Boortz" by hzoo_26
"It's my turn to be Goalie!"
"You got to do it LAST time!"
With a sigh, Ethel Boortz slowly eased her way up out of her rocking chair, crossed the porch, and made her way down the steps towards her young grandchildren. "Michah and Kayla, what did I tell you about Yooyball matches?"
Michah, a young speckled Ixi of eight, piped up. "Not to play near the house?" At that point, Kayla elbowed him in the ribs. "Not to argue and to play fair."
Ethel chuckled. "That's right." Now, you continue your game and I'll head to the house to make us some lunch. She ruffled Michah's light brown hair, and watched as he and Kayla slowly began to make their way into the middle of the yard.
They were eighteen months apart, her grandchildren. Kayla was the older one of the two, a headstrong red Ixi with a tendency to be a bit of a rule follower. Michah was the spoiled younger brother, constantly getting into mischief and making those around him laugh at his antics.
They enjoyed Yooyuball, although they couldn't play it the normal way. A majority of the children in Meridell couldn't afford the expensive Yooyu petpet. Only the nobles had that luxury.
So, her two grandchildren were out there with a potato, and some makeshift Yooyuball gear (consisting of pillows, cushions, and a few plastic bowls) trying to score goals against each other. Sometimes friends would join them, but today they each had a team of one.
Ethel shook her head as she grabbed a baking sheet from her drawers. "A one Ixi team is surely enough for today."
|The Dressy Way to Celebrate Fyora Day|
Fyora Day is upon us again and it is time to celebrate in the most fanciful way possible! Dressing up your pet in Fyora themed items will certainly please the faerie queen on her special day, and win you favours all around Faerieland.
|Understanding Extreme Potato Counter|
Hello friends! I’ll spare you the introductory garbage and just get right to it. You’re here because you would either like a trophy in EPC, or the avatar, or both! You’ve already run across several guides that have provided great suggestions in helping you come closer to that goal, but more than likely you haven’t reached it yet.
|The Sleeper of Altador: Part One|
These Neopians never knew just how good they had it. To be fair, she took everything for granted, too--that is, until she was frozen in stone for an eon. During her imprisonment, the concept of time became warped in her mind, but she could still feel things--things like the joy and hurt radiating from the Neopians bustling about her, and the reverberations from centuries of war.
|Clouds Over Cogham: Part Three|
Nobody wants to look towards the sound, but everyone feels drawn to it. Nobody wants to see what they fear is there, but they need to know for certain — know whether or not they need to hide. They whip their heads around desperately, praying that the sound isn’t the sonic manifestation of their worst fears being realised, but their hopes are not heard above the din of retribution.