TyrianDragon

Everyone was gone, the spectacle was over. Emperor Velo XXVII was absolutely done. Each of the teams of racers had left his competition, they could all migrate back to Earth peacefully. He was done with his challenge after he was humiliated in front of every single one of his citizens, the citadel witnessing his form as a tiny little rotten thing. While the marsupial shown him mercy by protecting his staff from anyone who may misuse it, he wasn't forgiving anyone for making him angry and destroying his robotic form. All of that made even worse by the fact that a racer he 'employed' himself, Prince Nitros Oxide VI, made sure to laugh at his suffering, even though he already knew what he looked like! It was unfair, somehow Oxide always managed to come out on top, ever since he met him as an overeager nymph. Velo got everything he wanted on a silver platter, yet he couldn't achieve victory. He soon retreated into his fabulous home, all the way in the back, in the top secret lab where

Ah. The Wumpa League. A renowned competition that only just got off its feet, with the many unfortunate souls stuck knowing about it having to compete. Well, a competition is a competition, and it should have been alluring to famed competitor, known hater of mostly everyone around him, Nitros Oxide. He, by all accounts, should have been ready to show those on Earth what he was made of, right? Unfortunately, he did not get permission to compete. The powers that be even ignored the fact that he was space royalty! But he was welcome as a spectator, as were his family; the Queen herself was already working towards assisting those behind the League, saying she and a "friend" were cooperating in expanding the battlegrounds. He would have probably just ignored the offer to spectate, were it not for his secret curiosity, hidden under half-excuses/half-reasons. But the general gist of what Oxide would explain was that Hunter was busy training, his skills being tested by their rowdy twins

Tap, tap, tap. Or was it like a drip? A drop? Eh, who cares. Whatever the noise a rock skipping and sliding across the water made. The sun was starting to set oh so slightly on the Wumpa Islands, on N. Sanity Beach; right past the jungle and right on the edge. Three feet scraped against the soft sand, as a little insectoid sat, hands on their lap, focusing just enough on a rock, and it magically being thrust through the ocean. Sighing, they opened up their phone. A text every five minutes from their parent. He wanted to give them enough of a chance to breathe the Earth air, but the islands still had plenty of those not worth trusting, plenty of threats, and it was so easy to get lost in. But they weren't some fool, they'd find their way. Besides, their wings would take them faster before any mammal could wonder "just what was that". Just what was that indeed, as at the slight hint of cockiness, there was a rustle in the bushes. Immediately, they stood up, raising their wings. The eye