ABOUT NIKKI

ABOUT NIKKI ON NEOPETS

TRANSFER HISTORY

WHY ME?

• I go on Neopets every day, unless I am on vacation, very busy, or grounded.
• I'm a role-player, so Myth will be role-played!
• Myth will be drawn, but not very well due to my lack of skill. XP
• Neopets is not the only thing in my life like some people who play, but I do side with people who say Neopets aren't just pixel-pets. Would you want your cat or dog or any other pet to be dying of hunger?

WHY DO I WANT MYTHOLOGIQUE?

FUTURE/PLANS

APPEARENCE

STATS

LIKES AND DISLIKES

Evadne
The color gold
The sun
Flying
Talking
Peace
Muffins!

Thieves of all kind
Liars
War
People who touch her muffins

PETPET

STORY

The only thing Mythologique could remember from when she was a kit was a scream from an off-white colored xweetok, and everything going black. When she opened her eyes, she was alone, with no idea of where she was.

Myth staggered alone on a dirt path, but a year or two old. She couldn't put up with the walking much longer, but still she moved on, not knowing where to go.

As the path came to an end, a rippling cascade of water came roaring down. A mist rose from the bottom, creating an eerie glow. She leaned over the side, only to see another xweetok staring back at her. Myth ducked backwards, and stealthily crept back. The xweetok was still there, doing the exact action Myth was. Her ears pricked up and her eyes widened. So did the stranger's. The stranger was pure white, with small antennae, tipped with golden orbs of light. Two wings had begun to sprout out of each of their sides, a pale silver color. Myth jumped sideways. So did the stranger. She went the other way. So did the stranger. Myth continued jumping and running around the edge of the water, a grin coming to her face.

Having a good time?" a voice rang throughout the silence. Myth froze and slowly turned around. Now people she didn't know surrounded her.

It's only your reflection you see in the water, there's no need to be afraid." A young white xweetok sat on the roots of a giant oak tree not too far away. It looked as if he had rolled around in the mud, as his pelt was stained with brown. His pitch black eyes sparkled as if he laughing. "My name id Ibasil, pleasure to meet you." Ibasil rose from his position on the roots into a standing one. He walked halfway up to Mythologique, expecting her to come the rest if she pleased.

Myth sniffed. He seemed of no threat, but she knew to be careful. She slowly walked up to him, flinching at all his small movements.

There you go, you can trust me, I'm no bad guy," Ibasil smiled at the sweet little xweetok. "What's your name?" he asked.

Myth hesitated before stating, "M-Mythologique."

Well, hey there, Mythologique. What are you doing out here alone?"

I don't know… I opened my eyes and I was here. I remember being rushed out of my home, a scream…"

Ibasil paused to study her more carefully, his eyes lingering upon her wings. "Say, do you know where you come from?"

Well, we went to Meridell once, it wasn't to far to walk from where we live."

Just as I thought," he remembered that old legends, ones that revolved around the fact that wings were granted by the devil to those evil to their core. They were commonly heard in Meridell. "Now, Mythologique, I don't think you have anywhere to stay for the night, do you? You're welcome to come stay with me."

Myth paused and thought for a moment. Should she go away with a stranger, or spend the night in the woods, alone? "Thanks you for your offer…" she hesitated a moment more, "It would be wonderful to stay, thank you."

Alright," Ibasil said softly, "You look exhausted." And with that, he picked Mythologique up and carried her through the mass of trees. With each step she was soothed, Ibasil not making a single fumble, until she fell soundly asleep.


CHAPTER 2

Mythologique awoke in a strange habitat for the second time in a row. She was positioned on a small couch that was covered with a woolen blanket. Around her were many shelves filled with knick-knacks and trinkets, some looking to be hundreds of years old.

It took her only a moment to remember that she had gone with a stranger. She began silently debating with herself if her choice to go with Ibasil was a good one. One of the only rules Myth's mother had told her, to never talk to strangers, or for that matter go to their home, was shattered to pieces as a result. She automatically assumed her choice would put her in danger, and that she should try to escape.

Oh, you're awake?" Ibasil had popped in from another room before she could move a muscle. She felt no need to respond. "I was just cooking a little something to eat, are you hungry?" As if on cue, Myth's stomach growled. Ibasil chuckled and said, "Come on into the kitchen and we'll eat." Myth hesitantly followed him back into the room he first came from.

Another small room was now in front of her. A kitchen was poised on her right and a tiny wooden table and chairs on the left. The aroma of scrambled eggs filled the room, soon to be replaced with a burning one as smoke materialized.

Ack!" Ibasil voiced as he turned the stove off and fanned away the smoke, coughing. "Hope you like your eggs slightly burned." As he lifted the pan and shared the contents between two wooden plates, she saw the eggs were not slightly burned; they were black.

Myth slowly walked over and sat in one of the wooden chairs as Ibasil set a plate before her. "Sorry," Ibasil stabbed at the eggs with his fork, "I'm not much of a cook." He shoved the eggs into his mouth. "Hmm, not bad." He mumbled.

Myth looked in disgust at her plate. What if Ibasil had put something in them, some sort of poison? Well, he was eating them, so they must be safe. Myth loaded a wad onto her fork and slowly put it to her mouth. As she chewed, she realized he was right; the eggs weren't actually that bad, they were just crisp.

Mythologique continued eating, staring at the clock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. It went. All of the sudden, a bell rang, sending her out of her seat. Nine times, it rung, signaling nine o'clock in the morning.

You don't talk much, do you, Mythologique?"

Another forkful of eggs went to Myth's mouth. After swallowing, she objected, "Yeah, I talk a lot, actually."

Well then tell me a little about yourself, Mythologique." Ibasil watched Myth with curiosity.

Well…" she began, "First off, you don't have to call me Mythologique all the time. You can call me Myth."

Ok, Myth." Ibasil said, trying out the name.

I'm two years old, and I like talking about world peace. I think it should become our main focus of the military, instead of war." Ibasil once again chuckled, but Myth ignored him. "Some people call me a little hippie, but I've seen pictures, and I would never wear the clothes they have on. They're ridiculous, I mean, look at them!" As she warmed up to the stranger she began babbling on about her life as it was before she found that she was in the forest alone. "And I am obsessed with muffins," she was finally drawing to an end. "I mean, they're all poofy and such, and they're yummy…"

There was a pause while Ibasil waited to see if Myth was done before he began, "Well, you can call me Sil, or Bas, or any other nickname you can think of. As for my age," he paused for a moment, "I'm two hundred and seven years old. Do you believe me?" There was no response. "I've traveled the world, and have settled down to live here. You see, I appear to be in my teens, but I really am two hundred and four. That's why everything here is so old." He stated.

Myth stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "I do believe you." She finished up her scrambled eggs and rose from the table to put her dish away.

ART BY MOI

FANART/REQUESTS/TRADES

CLONES

POETRY

PLEDGE OF GOOD OWNERSHIP

MEET THE FAMILY

AWARDS

ADOPTABLES

MUSIC

THANKS

OUTRO

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