"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!”
Super Secret Club Special: Septuacentennial Struggle In 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 Wishes The 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.
Addressing The White Weewoo Stereotypes White Weewoos seem like perfectly loyal little creatures that want to do nothing but bring good to all of Neopia… but is that really what they are, or have we tricked ourselves into believing those big, innocent eyes? The White Weewoo’s long standing affiliation with the Neopian Times has caused some untrue stereotypes, and I am here to address them today and set the record straight once and for all, at the risk of the Weewoo’s wrath.
Fun Customization Items to Celebrate Issue #700! Of course, that means we need some party-themed customization items. It’s time to bring out enough balloons to re-float Faerieland; enough cake to satisfy King Skarl; and perhaps enough confetti to temporarily distract everyone while the meepits–
The door was forced open, and yet another Yooyu was plonked onto the floor. The room was heaving, bursting at the seams, but somehow everyone shuffled to make room for the newcomer.
On The Revolution of Heavenly Spears: Part One Normally, after Ryshu the Nimmo entered the school’s wooden doors half an hour before the official opening time, he would meditate privately in the tranquillity of dawn, closing his eyes and slowly taking in the fresh breezes that rolled in through the window, pausing every so often to change his current position. As an instructor, this was something expected of him; appreciating silence, after all, did help boost one’s endurance.