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"Watercolour" by sampleneopian
“What is it?” His voice came out hoarse, his words choked.
If his conversant was deterred, he didn’t sound like he was. “I saw what happened with those bullies.”
He said nothing.
“It isn’t wrong of you to feel the way you are feeling. No one can blame you for that.”
Again, he kept silent, though he continued to listen.
“But you have to pull yourself together, or things will just get worse.”
At this, he felt his temper rising, indignant that his conversant would dare undermine the severity of his problem. “And I suppose you know all about that?” His voice was a blade. It was over. The limit of his patience had been reached, and he wouldn’t take any more insults, direct or indirect. He stayed where he was, though, inviting his conversant to make a comeback just so he would have the satisfaction of winning the argument.
Of all the ways he expected his conversant to respond – a retort, a sigh, or a scowl, he did not foresee a hesitation. And a curious hesitation it was. Even with his back to him, he could tell that his conversant was not simply filling the moment with soundlessness, but vivid, unspeakable emotion. Whoever it was he was speaking to was going through a momentous memory of his own, an experience that meant as much, if not more than, the one he was going through then. Already his anger was fading, replaced by a mixture of curiosity and compassion that negated the negatives he was suffering and willed him to open his heart, for the sake of both of them. He turned around, almost in a trance, only to see none other than the Money Tree himself, looking startlingly dejected.
It was at this moment that his clock to evil stopped. He almost didn’t catch the reply, which was barely a whisper.
“Yes, I do.”
Other Stories
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 Money, Money, Money!
So I was walking by the Money Tree one day and – What? Hold on. *shoves narrative aside*
Director comes forward.
I quizzically flex my eyebrows in response.
Director: “You’re supposed to give them a little background before you begin the story, you know, tell them a little about yourself so they get hooked.”
Me: “But they’re already hooked? I mean, they’re absolutely flabbergasted by the weirdness already taking place here. Just look.”
by redken9x9 |
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 Meridell: The Town that Time Forgot
Meridell is the perfect escape from the hustle and bustle of Neopia life. A brief four-hour train ride through the countryside is all it takes to bring you to a lovely coastal town that time forgot. You may get lost in the past but with this handy guide you won’t be at a loss for what to do to make the most of your weekend getaway.
by tkprtyrhd |
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 What if...?
Have you ever wondered how Neopia would be today if certain pivotal events never took place during the course of its history? Here putting my imagination to work, I tried to form a new Neopia by removing important and groundbreaking revelations and plots from its history.
by water_park1993 |
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 The Ardors and Agonies of Witchcraft: Part Nine
Mago’s great claws thundered across the soil. At this speed, every breeze felt like that of a frigid winter rushing through her fur, and she opened her mouth to cry out in triumph for the power coursing through her veins. She could feel it in her claws, in her horns, and deep in her muscles. She could do anything she wanted in the world.
by hybatsu |
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 Befriending Boochi: Part Three
"What I don't understand," she mused aloud, "is why Boochi hasn't changed all the Neopians back into what they were prior to him zapping them Baby. We know now that his ray gun can work in reverse. So surely it would make sense for him to make amends and transform everyone back?"
by tallydepp |
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