|A Different RouteOnce upon a time, nothing happened. Not a very exciting start to a story is it? That was the problem Ned had. He wanted to write a story that would be the best thing since sliced Neggs, but he had absolutely nothing interesting to say. |
|Why Are You Writing?The blank paper stared up from the notebook. Each moment passed felt like an eternity gone by. Every tick of the clock seemed to echo throughout the room. The shadow Wocky chewed the end of his pencil, quickly putting teeth marks in it. He had tried everything; pacing, reading, eating, meditating, yet the paper remained blank, seemingly watching him, waiting for his move.|
|The Weewoo in Training“Wow, that storm really came out of nowhere!” I shout, struggling to push shut the large door of the Neopian Times office against the buffeting wind. “Here, let me help you with that,” comes a voice from behind me. We struggle for just a moment before finally pushing the door closed. I'm tempted to collapse beside it, but this is my very first visit to the Times and I want to make a good impression.|
|Of Wizards and WeewoosIf you want something badly enough, you'll do anything to get it. |
That was the motto Sylvia lived by. It had served the shadow Aisha well over the years; first in the academy, and then in becoming a fully-fledged secret agent.
|Super Secret Club Special: Septuacentennial StruggleIn the garden of number forty eight, Rainbow Lane, Neopia Central, stands a tree house. But this is not just any treehouse. This treehouse is the headquarters-|
“No, that’s not right.”
The girl in the spinny office chair exhales irritably, scribbling out the lines she’s just written.
|700 WishesThe past few weeks had been long and hard. Her tired eyes and defeated posture earned some sympathy from the charming Shoyru, who had placed a large drink in front of the young lady, rather than the small she had ordered. The girl hadn’t even noticed.|
|An Expedition Around Neopia Neopia Central|
“700 Nanka Bottles hanging on the wall, 700 Nanka Bottles hanging on the wall…” Panda sighed in disdain, licking at her paw softly. “And if one Nanka Bottle should accidently fall…”
Also by tanner_73
|A Clean SlateThe gate clangs shut behind him, the metallic reverberations humming in his ears. Turning his head only slightly, he watches from the corner of his eye as two guards shuffle away. A creaking noise, and the doors to the prison of Darigan Citadel swing open to usher them in.|
Also by sweatshirts2
|Melting in MoltaraThe 30th day of Hiding was the hottest day of my life. |
My brothers and I had woken up appallingly early, unable to sleep any longer in the unflinching heat of the still-rising sun.
|The Tale of the Ixi HuntressThe white Ixi galloped through the forest, relishing the caress of the wind that tousled her fur. A Gruslen followed close behind and he barked with the exhilaration of the hunt. She slowed her pace as she caught an acrid scent on the breeze, and the petpet stopped too, sniffing furiously.|
|Agent 700Agent 00 Hog sat at his Cheat table, absent-mindedly flinging card after card across the hall. He was particularly good at flinging playing cards, but today, even that could not hold his attention. It had been a long and rather boring day, the yellow Moehog thought with a sigh. |
|The Purpose of the PressThe door to Professor Lambert’s chambers creaked open. The Gnorbu looked up from his daily reading and twitched his ear. “Ah, you must be Jacob, come right this way!” he said, motioning to the seat in front of his desk. “Now, I have your file pulled out already. I gave it a read over my lunch break, I hope you don’t mind. Your résumé is very impressive indeed.”|
|700 KougrasBluestar the little baby Kougra had been left with a babysitter. Again. She wasn’t really upset with her owner or her favorite siblings, not at all. She understood that Jessica was working. And the others… |
|The Painted Weewoo and the Maraquan Dillema“Boss. Boss, something’s happened.”|
“What is it, you nitwits?” the shuffling of feathers. A Weewoo in a suit and tie, eliminating evidence of pastry crumbs and red jam. “I’m busy.”
Also by lute248
|Friday: BurnoutIt was a particularly windy Friday morning in Neopia Central. With a cup of Black Cherry Tea in her left hand, The Editor strode forward towards The Neopian Times Headquarters, the establishment that releases Neopia’s newspaper every Friday afternoon. |
|Usuki Singing Stars #26: The REAL Style Showdown“Oh Patricia, your skirt is so cute!” Sparkles gushed. The pink Bruce gripped her notebook as she admired the skirt her friend was wearing. “Wherever did you get it?”|
A pink Uni sighed dreamily. “I bet she bought it from the NC Mall,” she suggested. “I mean, where else could one find such a beautiful lavender skirt?”
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"Weewoo in Training" by derrangeddragon
"Wow, that storm really came out of nowhere!” I shout, struggling to push shut the large door of the Neopian Times office against the buffeting wind.
“Here, let me help you with that,” comes a voice from behind me. We struggle for just a moment before finally pushing the door closed. I'm tempted to collapse beside it, but this is my very first visit to the Times and I want to make a good impression. Instead, I brace myself and turn to meet my rescuer, a smiling Blumaroo. “Thank you so much!”
|Avatars to Celebrate Skeith Day|
There is no better way to celebrate Skeith Day than to use your favorite Skeith avatar. There are 8 total to choose from. You can obtain these avatars a variety of ways, there is a default avatar, a few game avatars a few that are gained easily and even one very rare retired avatar.
Also by hummerthug
|One Hundred Games - Part One|
his article (actually, it'll be split into two parts) will go into detail about the first hundred games ever to have been created. A very small number of these games are still playable today, so unless you've been around here for a very long time, this will probably be new.
|To Succeed is to Fail: Chapter One|
While my name, at the moment, lacks any significance or importance -- and perhaps it never will -- by the end of this tale your imagination will thrive on my alias, whatever alias slowly presents itself over the duration of this account. My image will dance throughout your memory indefinitely; nary a thought will your mind portray in which I fail to be present.