From The Author: The Story Of The Shurara Corps, most of it is just headcannons but it's my first fanfic in years so I thought it should be fun. I hated how the Shurara Corps Arc ended so I decided to fix it in my own way. I take any feedback, I really want to get into writing again. Keep in mind I do have a minor case of dyslexia, my grammar will not be perfect 100% of the time.

Chapter one: The Painter and the monster

Street artist, the rebel, the freak. Putata was known by many names, sometimes he just wanted to be Putata. Putata was from a really rich family, he lived on the rich side of Keron, everyone at school thought he was going to be a well mannered and highly sophisticated tadpole, he was quite the opposite. He despised his family, mostly his brother, he hung around the bad group of people, suspended from school for vandalizing school property, and disobeying teachers. He cut classes every chance he could get. Putata was popular but not for a good reason, most people liked him because he was a bad boy or they wanted some free art.

Putata when he cut classes had his own blog, an art blog, this was something his parents didn't know about, if they did he would be disowned on the spot. Putata's family was very military, the school he attended as basically a practice military camp for tadpoles. Siroro, his brother already enlisted in the Keron Army, this was setting the bar high for Putata who didn't want to go. He wanted to be an artist, a creator, a blogger, he loved drawing, it wasn't a want it was a need.

Art was like a drug to him, he couldn't stop doing it and it was really good at it, he was extremely talented, his desktop was covered in doodles and he had filled up all his sketchbooks. Putata was going to start his freshman year in high school but he didn't bother showing up for orientation. He stayed in his room, like he did every summer vacation.

His parents expected him to be like his older brother, Siroro. Siroro hated color, he hated everything that Putata loved. Putata felt the same way about his brother. Siroro was his parents golden child and Putata was the disappointment, and he was okay with that.

Putata had his headphones and a pocky stick hanging from his mouth as he drew in his new sketchbook. It was about a week old, but it was half full already. His hand moved swiftly across the paper, as he colored it in. Coloring, it was probably Putata's favorite thing to do. "Tsh.."

Putata hissed as the marker started to run dry. He shook the marker to try and get the ink to flow through. This was his favorite shade of red too. Putata rubbed the marker against the paper again, nothing. The artist groaned and rubbed his eyes. He knew he probably had some more, he opened the bottom drawer of his desk. In the desk were all his summer assignments, none of them done. He growled and threw the assignment books out of the drawer, they made a loud clap on the floor. Putata had this desk built custom made for hiding his art supplies from his parents, it cost him a lot of money. That's why he spent all summer on commissions to make up for it.

He pressed a button on the desk, a blue screen appeared in front of him asking him for a password.:P00: a loud ding came from the screen then flashed to a different screen. His password was the wordplay of his online name, Pumama. He thought it was clever.

All of Putata's inventory was shown on the screen, he had everything organized so he could find everything. :ColoringMarkersRed:

Putata scrolled through the reds, another hiss came out as he frowned, he had a lot of reds, but not the shaded he needed. Putata leaned back in his chair rubbing his face. How did he not realize that he was out of that marker? He thought he stocked up for the summer. Putata glanced over at his clock letting out a groan. His parents still hadn't left for work yet, he told this person he would be done with this art piece by morning and Putata liked keeping his word. Putata rocked back and forth in the chair wondering what he should do? He could extend the deadline tomorrow afternoon or...he could actually leave his room for once and go get the color he needed. But that would be a waste of time if he went to go get onecolor. What if he ordered it...no, that would take up too much time.

The artist bit down on his pocky stick and went to get another one. "Oh come on…" Putata growled, tossing the empty box in the trash behind him. He just shrugged it off when he missed. He had a lot of candy wrappers and boxes next to trash, he was too lazy to actually throw them in and no one came into his room anyway unless they actually needed him, and that was never. Putata opened the first drawer, it had even more candy wrappers, maybe he should really clean his room. He tossed the wrappers towards the trash, only a few made it inside the trash.

He also used the desk to hide his personal snacks from older brother who would always steal them if he left them in the kitchen, again the desk asked for his password.

:P00foodsnacks:

Putata snapped his fingers in frustration, he also low on snacks. He rested his cheek on his fist glancing at the clock again. 12:00pm….his parents didn't leave for work until 7:00am the next day. They worked the same job, his mother was a nurse and his father was a drill sergeant...military...the one thing Putata hated. And the one thing his parents would not stop pestering him for. He sighed and flipped open his phone.

He had enough money to spend, plus, it's been a long time since he did a live stream. Putata finally convinced himself to actually do something, even if it meant facing his parents for a bit.

Putata gathered his things, his backpack, his wallet, his spray paint, and his phone. He pulled his hoverboard out from under his bed and opened his door, he heard the soft talking of his parents as he walked downstairs. He tried to sneak his way out the front door without being-

"Putata!"

Seen…

It was his father. Didn't matter if he hated his father, Putata had to listen to his father, it was a death sentence to ignore him. Putata put his hoverboard next to the door as he walked back to the kitchen. "Father…" He grumbled leaning against the door frame. His father looked like his brother, a dark gray frog with black spots on him. Putata was 99% sure they were tattoos. His father was sitting at the dinner table as his wife did the dishes behind him.

"Sit." his father gestured to the chair in front of him.

"Can't.."

"Why can't you?"

"I'm going out." Putata crossed his arms, he already grew tired of the conversation. He also knew if he sat down he would never stand back up until his father made his point. His father folded his hands together and leaned on the table. "Putata...if you aren't going to take your education seriously how can you expect to be accepted into the Keron-"

"I don't." Putata rudely cut off his father, standing up straight to leave. His father pounded his fists on the table making the tadpole flinch slightly. "You will respect me in this house!" his father shouted at him. Putata boldly smiled and waved his hand. "Okay, whatever, goodbye." Putata said, turning away.

Once he heard the chair leg rub against the floor that's why he bolted for the door. "Puta Puta!"

Putata jumped on the hover board and blasted out the door, slamming the door shut. It bought him time to get far enough from his dad wouldn't dare hit him. If there was one thing that Putata knew about his family was their pride. Their pride in their reputation. They were a good family, a good family that didn't hit their children. Or so that's what people thought. Putata smiled widely as full speed down the street.

Once he was enough from his neighbor he flipped out his phone and started his livestream. "Yo, yo, yo, everybody! It's been a long summer!" he greeted his followers, as he stopped in front of an art supply store. The camera was towards the floor as he walked in. Looking around for the red he needed. He quickly found his way to the marker section, he knew this store from front to back anyway. He used to work here when he cut classes but he couldn't do that anymore. Not after the guy that would let him work got fired. Putata swore the store became less colorful without him. He found the pack of red he was looking for, he got two of them and took them to the cashier. Putata tossed them on the counter and leaned the counter and waited for his total to come up. He looked out a window, a wood shop? When did that get there, it used to be a play park. Putata got arrested in that park for vandalizing once.

"Hey...when did a wood shop get there?" Putata asked, hoping the employee would know.

The employee glanced up and shrugged. "Sometime during the summer, I don't like going in there." he answered, putting the packs in the bag. "Eh? Why not? Is it haunted?" Putata smirked, as he put the money on the counter.

"Naw, the owner's kid is weird, likes to hangout in the ceiling and play with dolls, there's rumors about that shop, I just don't go in there."

Putata looked out the window again, the owner's kid was weird? Putata didn't see anything weird about the kid due to that description, but Putata had other things to do perhaps another time. He left the art store and jumped on his hoverboard. Next stop snack store, thankfully it was only two blocks down.

As he made his way to the snack store he started answering some questions that his followers left. They were mostly, what has he been doing all summer? What were his plans for the fall? Are commissions open? All that good stuff. He bought some of his favorite snacks and headed to the train yard.

The train yard, he would spray paint on the trains and the walls of tunnels, sometimes his fans would post pictures of themselves next to his paintings. He liked the train tracks because it was quiet and he never got caught down there. The police didn't give a damn over there. When he got to the train tracks someone had commented that one of his paintings was ruined.

Putata made his way into a tunnel that the comment described, he saw what they meant. The painting was covered in black lines and red Xs. Putata set his phone down and his backpack. Stuff like this didn't upset him anymore, people would always destroy stuff that they hated. It was natural. There was no way for him to fix the painting but he could certainly make a painting over it, like getting a cover up tattoo. Putata clicked his tongue as he shook his head. He was thinking to himself. He started shaking his white spray can. Oh what the hell, he thought to himself. He'll think of it along the way. He started covering the painting with the white, ignoring the livestream itself as he started. He painted a city and took all night. By the time he finished his hands and face were covered in paint, and the sun was gone. He packed up his things and turned off his stream. He started to leave the train yard.

"Get it! Don't let it get away!"

Putata stopped in his tracks, he looked around for the voice. He should probably head home, work on that commission he was so worried about finishing, but something in his gut was telling him to see what that was. Putata looked around, it was hard to see in the darkness, but he saw movement. Putata started his hoverboard again and went down the hill towards the movement.

"My dad is gonna kill me if it gets away!" the voice got louder as Putata got closer. Putata got off the board as he peaked over. It was two tadpoles, probably in middle school. They were chasing something. Putata's gut was telling him to see what it was, maybe it was something bad. He slowly walked over so they wouldn't notice him.

One of the tadpoles were crawling into a box and Putata swore he heard something from that box almost yelp in pain.

"I got it!" the tadpole screamed and yanked out a Nyororo. A froggin' Nyororo?! Putata felt a chill go up his shine just seeing it. The Nyororo was pure white with a blue tail, it seemed to be just a baby. Putata sighed heavily. He knew that the military would keep Nyororo to punishment platoon leaders. his father would talk about it all the time. That's probably how they got it. Putata took a step back to walk away, he had to get home anyway. He at least wanted some sleep. Putata stopped in his tracks again, the tadpole was dragging it by its tail as it squirmed trying to get away. The baby Nyororo wasn't a pure white as he thought it was, it had bruises all over him. Putata felt his heart sink. It was just a baby, probably being trained by the military for some useless purpose. Putata clenched his fists, he hated the military, he hated that of all the planets he could have been born on he was born on the most military based one. It was just a froggin' baby, it was all he was thinking about. Putata waited for the tadpoles to come closer.

The tadpoles still didn't notice Putata standing in the dark, they yelped when the older tadpole grabbed the top of their heads. Lifting them up off the ground. "Well what do we have here?" Putata grinned. "Some little tadpoles sneaking out at night?"

The tadpoles squirmed in his grip begging him to let them go. Putata did his best to hide his tail from them. Putata threw them both to the ground standing over them with his arms crossed. "Beat it and don't let me catch you here again." Putata snickered, he felt a bit proud as the tadpoles ran away forgetting all about their Nyororo. Putata fixed his backpack on his shoulders as he sighed.

"Nyo!"

Putata glanced over his shoulder, the baby Nyororo was behind him nuzzling his leg. "Uh, your welcome…" Putata said and stepped over it. "Now go home."

Putata walked back to his hoverboard, he got chills when felt something lick his foot. "H-hey." he squealed as he fell on his aft. "Listen, your welcome. Go home." Putata repeated again.

"Nyo." the baby wiggled it's way in Putata's lap and licked his face. That's when Putata realized, the baby probably was raised on Keron, most likely in a lab. This was probably it's home. Putata sighed heavily picking up Nyororo as he stood up. If this was an aggressive Nyororo, it would have sucked those kids drain, it would have sucked him dry too. Putata smiled slightly. "I've always wanted a pet...but you'll have to do everything I say." Putata said, it wondered if Nyororo could actually hear him. He set the Nyororo down and opened his backpack. Nyororo wiggled it's way into his backpack. It fit perfectly.

Putata took it all the way home, he would have to hide it in his room just like everything else in his life, nothing new there. Putata smiled as he sped down the streets.

Looks like this trip outside wasn't a total waste at all.