https://twitter.com/treese_/status/1389742293314326533?s=20

Title. Don't know when I'll finish, might drop it tomorrow. This one is taking much longer than the other one because that one had a lot more "descriptive text" while this one is almost entirely dialogue.

So I've already linked to a Google Doc with this story in it in this thread I made on the Writing board, but if you feel like reading it here on NG, well, here you go. The news posts have a much larger character limit, so I'm actually able to to fit the full 25k+ character story into one post.

A Robin’s Nest

By @.treese_ (my Twitter handle)

For Context

This short story was originally written as an extended scene for a nonexistent play as an assignment for my dramatic writing class. This version of the story has been rewritten to read more like a novel than the original, which was written in the format of a play script, though it's still going to inherently have a bit of a play-like feel to it, mostly with the extreme emphasis on dialogue. 

For story context, this is framed within an overarching universe for a television show I wrote in said class, called Misery, MI. It’s essentially a satire of The Flash, an experimental reactor explodes and gives everyone powers, but the powers are all really shitty/weird and/or have some kind of monkey’s paw twist to them. The main character, Flynn Howard, is given the ability to conjure lifeless bodies of women and control them with his mind. The “template” for his ability was his fiance, Kelda Robin. She disappeared and was absorbed into his body, and so the show is about him fighting various villains of the week alongside his friends while trying to find a way to get her back, featuring heavy tonal contrasts between ridiculous superhero action, charming slice-of-life sections, and powerful, depressing emotional moments. (This is all better explained in the series bible I wrote for the show, which I will share...eventually. I have to fully finish it first.)

Anyways, this scene is supposed to take place in S1 E8. Our heroes are fleeing from an enemy they come across in an abandoned factory when the floor gives out, and they fall into the offices below. The member of the group who can get them out of there is knocked out during the fall, so while they wait for him to recover Flynn tells the story of how he met Kelda, a story he previously refrained from telling earlier in the episode due to how traumatic of a memory it was. Thus begins a flashback…

(Be warned, this piece is really sappy and is likely a subconscious venting of the id, so expect some level of inherent cringiness)

(Oh yeah also if you’re sensitive to reading about shit like rape/sexual assault please know that there are brief allusions to said concepts)

A brutal storm is raging outside of Walsh’s, a small, dingy restaurant in the streets of Misery, Missouri. Rain is pouring down furiously on the other side of the windows. The place is completely empty, save for one lone, crimson-haired waitress, Kelda Robin. She’s preparing to close up shop, cleaning the tables and putting chairs away, all while quietly humming to the tune of some video game’s soundtrack to herself. Only the sound of her voice and the weather outside can be heard. She finishes cleaning the last table and grabs her jacket in preparation to lock up when Flynn suddenly bursts in through the doors. Kelda yelps.

Flynn is bruised all over his body, covered in small lashes, bleeding from the neck, and soaked to the bone. He’s only wearing a tank top and boxers, as well as a bent pair of small, circular sunglasses that fall onto the ground.

“W..water…” he mumbles. Flynn collapses to the floor, crushing his sunglasses under his body weight. Kelda runs over and closes the front doors, then rushes over to Flynn and kneels beside him.

“Sir? Are you okay?”

“Plea...please bring me some water,” he mutters, his face still plastered to the floor.

Kelda quickly stands up. “Uh, al-alright, sir. Please wait here.”

Kelda dashes off into the kitchen and returns with a glass of water. Flynn tries to stand, wincing in pain as he moves.

“Can you help me..to a seat, please?” he asks, his voice hoarse and raspy.

“Y-yeah, sure thing!” Kelda darts to a nearby table and sets the glass down, sloshing some of the contents out of the cup. She then puts her arms under Flynn’s and guides him into the table’s booth. He winces when he sits down. He then grabs the glass and swiftly empties it, then puts his hand on the wound on his neck.

Kelda gasps. “Oh my god, y-you’re bleeding! I-is there anything I can do, anything I can get for you?”

“It’s...not that bad, though a rag would be nice. That, and...and some more water,” says Flynn, panting. 

“Right!” Kelda runs back into the kitchen and returns with another glass and a towel, which she holds out to Flynn. Flynn takes both, downing the water then placing the towel over his neck.

“I-I-I’m gonna try and call an ambulance, OK? Will you be fine if I leave you here for a few minutes?” says Kelda. 

“Don't have plans to go anywhere at the moment.”

“Right! Great! I’ll, uh, I-I’ll be right back.” Kelda yet again runs into the back of the restaurant, leaving Flynn alone. He sits for a moment, breathing heavily and drinking his water, then breaks into sobs, resting his head on the table.

Kelda begins walking back into the main part of the restaurant, carrying a plate of reheated chicken tenders.

“Can’t get a call through, think the storm knocked out the phone lines. I’d use my cell, but I think I left it back home. By the way, I also heated up some chicken that some guy forgot to pick up in case you were--Oh.”

Kelda fully enters the main eating area and stops at the sight of Flynn’s sobs. She then walks over to the booth and slides in next to him. She places the plate on the table, then takes her jacket off and drapes it over Flynn’s body. The two sit in silence for a moment. 

Kelda glances over at the broken sunglasses on the floor. “Hey, I think I recognize those shades. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you around campus. Are you...oh, what was your name...Flynn, I think? Or was it “Finn?” No, wait, I remember, it was Flynn. Flynn Howard? Yeah! I think you’re in my music theory class, you play piano?”

Flynn sits up, wipes his nose, and eats a piece of chicken. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re, uh...ah, jeez, I can’t remember. I know I’ve seen you before, you were playing...saxophone? I think it was saxophone, at least. And I know someone told me your name at some point. I remember it was really pretty, began with a “K” sound,” he says.

“Kelda. It’s Kelda. Kelda Robin,” she says meekly.

“Right! Kelda Robin. Yeah...I do remember you. You play a flamin’ sax, by the way.”

Flynn eats another piece of chicken, this time visibly perking up and grabbing several more pieces. Kelda’s face turns red.

“Wh-really?” she says.

“Yeah, man! You’re incredible!” says Flynn, his mouth full of food. “You’re certainly better than that Mary chick. Eugh.”

Kelda’s blush intensifies. “You really think that?” she says, flustered. “Aw, I never--I mean you reall--are you su--” Kelda stops herself and clears her throat. “Th-thanks.”

“Mm-hmm, yeah, no problem,” says Flynn as he licks his fingers. “Man, this stuff is great!”

The two again fall into silence, Flynn eats and slowly regains his energy. All that can be heard is his chewing and smacking, as well as the ever-present hushing sound of the rain.

“Say, how come we never talked before now, of all times?” he asks, breaking the quiet. “If I’d known you were this cool and nice, I would’ve talked to you sooner.”

Kelda startles at the question. “Wh--I don’t know. I guess I never really thought about that. I mean, I always wanted to, you’re so...interesting. The way you dress, the way you act, it’s all so...different, I guess. I love to sit and watch you practice piano, it’s really impressive how you can manage all of those keys at once. Though I’ve noticed that you don’t really do it anymore.”

“So you’re that cute redhead that’s always watching me practice!” Flynn puts his hand to his head, processing the information. “Wow, that’s...man, I always appreciated having you there. It’s nice to have an audience, you know?”

Flynn leans back against the booth, still in disbelief. “I mean, it’s crazy--it’s like I’ve known you as two separate people. I already knew you as that sax player, shoot, you’re pretty hard to miss when you’re playing that thing. I guess I was too focused on your playing to realize that you shared a face with the meek little red-headed girl who always watched me play the piano. It’s honestly kind of funny, now that I think about it. As for why I don’t really practice anymore…”

Flynn’s enthusiasm fades, he stares off into the distance. “I--I...I just don’t want to.” he says. He turns to look at Kelda, her face even redder.

“Wait, you think I’m cu--” Kelda cuts herself off, clears her throat, and shakes her head, her curly red hair flying all over. “Yeah, I guess it is rather funny. I...I-I don’t know why I never said anything to you, never complimented your piano skills, or whatever. You always seemed like such a cool guy, I remember overhearing you talking about The Fight 3 or Zentori: Redux or something and thought I’d join in and propose that Miku Sato is secretly a meta-breaking top-tier or some other stupid thing like that. You know, some silly little conversation starter that would be my “introduction” to your friend group.”

The mentioning of this terminology perks Flynn’s eyebrows. “Woah, you’re into fighting games too? Well, in that case, I probably wasn’t talking to friends, I was likely talking to some Zentori players. I commentate local tournaments. What do you play?”

“Oh, I’m more of a spectator than a player. I love reading about and watching fighting games, I just don’t have the hands to play them super well.”

“Well, it’s still cool that you’re into them in general. Maybe you could come commentate with me some time!” Flynn excitedly nudges Kelda, then puts his hand on his head again. “Man, ah--now there’s another reason I’m kicking myself for not meeting you sooner!”

Kelda lets out a light chuckle. “Sure, we can do that some time, that sounds great.” She turns to look at her reflection in the window and sighs. “Yeah, I don’t know why I never talked to you. Perhaps I was just afraid to.”

Flynn calms down, his brow furrowed. “What, afraid of me?” he asks.

“Yes? No?” Kelda says, confused. She puts her head on the table and groans. “Ugh, I...it’s…” She sits back up and brushes her hair out of her face. “I don’t know. I mean it’s not like you’re scary, or anything. I just--I guess I just felt I couldn’t do it. Like I wasn’t allowed to, for some reason. Ugh, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.” She sets her head back on the table.

“Hey, hey, it’s no big deal,” says Flynn, tentatively placing his hand on Kelda’s back. “We all limit ourselves in ways we don’t understand. It’s all about figuring how we do it and changing that behavior, you know?”

Kelda sits up and sighs. “Yeah, I suppose.” 

Flynn places his towel on the table, his neck still bleeding slightly. “You mind getting me another one of these towels?” he asks. “I’d do it myself, but my legs are in a lot of pain.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure thing,” Kelda says. She climbs out of the booth. “Want some more chicken? I only brought like half of that guy’s order, said he was ordering for his whole family, so he got like 30 tenders. We’ve been tapping into it every now and then all day. I can see if we have any sauces if you like.”

“Sounds great,” says Flynn. “So he just…forgot about his order?”

Kelda laughs, a rich, beautiful laugh. “Yeah, think he got an important call from his job or wife or something, he ran out of the building without even paying us.”

Flynn laughs as well. “Wow, that’s hilarious! He really had you guys make all that food and then dipped?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I’m gonna go get that food for you, I’ll be right back, ‘kay?” says Kelda.

“I’ll be right here, same as ever,” says Flynn, relaxing further into the booth.

Kelda runs off into the kitchen, some clattering and rattling can be heard. She then returns with the rest of the forgotten order, a handful of towels, a large metal pitcher of ice water, and a few cups of honey mustard, all of which she sets on the table. “Here’s what I could find,” says Kelda as she slides into the booth. “Figured I’d bring one of the water pitchers so I don’t have to keep making trips back to the sink.” 

Flynn takes a large drink from the pitcher and eats some food. He lets out a large sigh. “Much appreciated. Seriously, Kelda, I don’t know how I can thank you enough, letting me, a battered, bruised, barely dressed stranger who bursts into your restaurant in the dead of night during a freak storm, come inside, then proceeding to give me free water and food, and lending me your coat, and--”

“Stranger?” says Kelda, cutting him off. “You’re no stranger! I mean, I recognized you.”

“Yeah, after thinking about it for a bit. Granted, I wasn’t wearing my usual getup, but still, we barely know each other. For you to do all these nice things for someone you would’ve been perfectly in the right to call the cops on...again, I don't know how to thank you enough. You might’ve saved my life.”

Kelda freezes. “Uh--Oh. Y-you’re welcome.” 

Kelda looks away from Flynn and covers her face with her hand to conceal her blushing face, then takes a deep breath and grabs some chicken from the plate. She looks at the wound on Flynn’s neck and takes a bite out of the chicken.

“Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your neck, anyway? Or, rather, what happened to you in general? Guess I was so wrapped up in our conversation that I forgot about how you got here in the first place. What’s a guy like you doing out on the streets at this time of the night and in this kind of weather?”

Flynn’s enthusiasm fades, his mouth falls into a frown and his eyes stare off into the distance. He refuses to respond.

Kelda leans in to get a better look, her eyes widen. “Wait, is that...a bite mark? It doesn't look like an animal bi...oh my god, did someone...bite you? And what’s with all these gashes on your arms? They almost look like...whip strikes. Flynn...what happened to you?” 

Flynn lets out a deep sigh. “Luna happened to me,” he says.

“Luna? Luna...where have I heard that name before?” Kelda puts a hand on her chin thinking. “Is it...as in Luna Hopkins? The pitcher for the girls’ baseball team? The psycho girl? That Luna?”

Flynn sniffles. “Yep. The one and only.”

“Wow. I mean, I knew Luna Hopkins was crazy, I’m pretty sure everyone knows that,” says Kelda, hand on her head in disbelief. “But for her to do something like this...what were you doing around her, anyway?”

“We used to go out,” says Flynn. “Met a few months ago. I was head over heels for her, it was like an obsession, she was all I cared about, all I thought about. I was so opposed to the idea of being involved with any other girl that I began to actively avoid them, you included. That’s why I quit practicing piano so regularly. I might’ve desperately needed the practice, but I was so afraid that I might end up talking to you and...and ‘betraying’ Luna that I decided it was best to avoid you at all costs.”

“O--oh...sorry, I guess,” says Kelda, sullenly sinking into the booth.

Flynn jolts forward, waving his hands. “No no no no, please don’t feel bad about it, it’s not your fault, it’s hers. I-I did so many things for her and gave her so many gifts, I was so wrapped in thinking I was being a perfect boyfriend...I had no idea what she was doing to me.” 

Kelda looks up. “What do you mean, ‘doing to you?’”

“She didn’t have any mutual feelings, she was just using me, exploiting my devotion for her own twisted purposes with zero regard for me or my mental health. She had me key people’s cars, steal phones and textbooks, catches small animals so she could...t-torture them.”

Kelda gasps. “What?”

“She’s a sadist, a-a pathological sadist,” he says. “She sees everything as nothing more than an object to be destroyed for her amusement. She relished in the pain she caused, lived for it. And I was the tool she used to do all of this. That’s all I was to her, a tool. An item, an object to be used and eventually destroyed. Guess she finally got bored of me and wanted to collect on all of the brainwashing and manipulation she’d been using on me. She wanted to end our relationship “with a bang,” as she put it. That was tonight.” 

“W-what did she do?” asks Kelda, apprehensively.

“She...she...assaulted me,” says Flynn, his voice beginning to break. “Invited me over to her apartment and locked me in her room. Tied me to her bed and...and…”

Flynn begins to break into tears, unable to fully recount such a traumatic experience.

Kelda shakes herself from the shock of the story. “Oh, Flynn, that’s...come here.” She wraps her arms around Flynn’s waterlogged body and brings him in close, resting his head on her bosom. 

By now Flynn has collapsed into full-blown sobs. “After all of the awful things I did for her, all that strife I caused, all the effort and time and love I put into her, that’s what she gives in return! She does that, then throws me out into the rain like the trash she thought I was!”

Kelda remains silent. She just sits and holds Flynn’s head, stroking his wet hair and quietly crying herself. They stay like this for a moment, until Flynn sits up and wipes his eyes.

“I’m...I’m so sorry, Flynn. So, so sorry,” says Kelda, her voice still quivering.  

Flynn wipes his nose and face. “Please, don't be. It isn’t your fault, it’s mine. I didn’t see it coming. I didn’t realize who she was, what she was, despite the obvious red flags. I played right into her trap, and it’s all my fault.”

“Have you tried calling the police?” she asks, sniffling.

“I can’t,” he says. “My phone was in my pants pockets, as was my wallet, but even if I did it wouldn’t really matter considering I haven’t seen a payphone since I was a kid.”

“Oh. Well, the phone here is out, so that’s no good, and my cellphone is back home. How far away do you live, maybe I can see if you’ll fit on my motorcycle and I can drive you--”

“Don’t bother,” says Flynn, interrupting her. “I live a good drive away, all the way out on the outskirts of Misery, and besides, I don’t think it’d be a good idea to ride a bike for such a long trip in weather like this.”

They look out at the rain on the other side of the window, which has somehow gotten worse since he first arrived.

“How’d you get to this part of town anyway?” asks Kelda. “Is your car still back at Lu--”

“No,” says Flynn. “Don’t have one, anyways. I took a bus, and I’m pretty certain they don’t run this late.”

“Oh. Well, luckily I only live a few blocks away from this place, so that shouldn’t be too bad of a trip, if not a bit wet,” says Kelda, regaining some of her enthusiasm. 

“Wait, y-you’re inviting me to come to your place?” asks Flynn, shocked.

“Yeah, why not? You can’t easily make it back to yours, you can’t stay here.” Kelda looks around the restaurant, then back at Flynn. “Hell, I technically shouldn’t even be here, I was supposed to lock up like 15 minutes ago.”

“Oh, sorry.” Flynn sheepishly puts his hand on the back of his neck. “I hope you don’t get in trouble for that. Or the blood on the floor. Or the stolen food.” 

Kelda laughs lightly. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll explain everything tomorrow. Besides, that food was just going to get thrown out anyway.” She climbs out of the booth. “Anyways, what I was saying is that there’s really nowhere else for you to go.”

“You sure you want me to come? I can find a hotel...o-or catch a train or somethi--”

“With what money?” asks Kelda, her arms crossed.

Flynn flinches. “Wh--oh. Yeah, you’re right. I...I hate to ask you this, but do you think you could spot me a--”

Kelda lets out a frustrated sigh, bracing herself. She starts to pace back and forth.

“Of course I don’t mind if you come spend a night at my house! Hell, stay for a whole week, I don’t care! What, you think after giving you water, feeding you, dressing your wounds, lending you my jacket, and letting you cry on my tits and get my shirt all wet, y-you expect me to suddenly draw the line there? This...this is practically a dream come true! I’ve always wanted to have a guy over, just to play games or watch movies or something, at least as a way to “mark it off the bucket list,” but now I’m presented with the opportunity to give the guy I’ve always been too afraid to talk to and admit my feelings for shelter for the night after he was tortured by his psychotic girlfriend? I don't think I could’ve asked for a better outcome, though it obviously would’ve been preferable if we met under less traumatic circumsta--”

Kelda stops pacing and turns around to face Flynn. She freezes at the sight of his shocked expression.

Flynn struggles to find anything to say but eventually manages to blurt out, “Wh--K-Kelda, y-you...have feelings for...for me?”

Kelda gasps and covers her mouth with her hands, blushing furiously. “I said that?” she whispers to herself. “Ohhh, I really said that, didn’t I? I, uh...” Kelda clears her throat, lets out a curt sigh, and swallows. “Yes, Flynn, I do have feelings for you. Have for a while, now, in fact. Do you really think I sat in on your piano practice just to hear you play? Do you think I would’ve helped you as much as I have tonight if I didn’t recognize who you were? Do you think I--”

“You don’t like my piano?” says Flynn, hurt.

Kelda’s eyes go wide, she gets incredibly flustered. “No no no no, of course I do! I didn’t mean to--ugh.” She covers her face and takes a deep breath, then resumes. “Flynn, your piano is amazing, but that isn’t the main reason I watched you. It was you, you’re so cool, and...and interesting, a-and you look so nice, and I always wanted time alone with you to say hello but I could never find a chance until I saw you practicing and I really wanted to go up and talk to you but you looked so in the zone and I didn’t want to interrupt you which was really just an excuse I made to myself to avoid the awkward social interaction...it’s...it’s…it’s...uhh…”

Kelda suddenly rushes forward and kisses Flynn, which takes him off guard. He reciprocates, and the two break apart after a few seconds.

“O-Oh my god, Flynn, I’m so sorry, I-I just...needed to do that. I know you just got out of a really toxic relationship, and you’re traumatized, and I--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Kelda, please, calm down,” says Flynn. “Here, have a drink.”

Flynn hands the water pitcher to Kelda, who sits back down and takes a drink. She sets the pitcher down and lets out a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, Flynn,” says Kelda. “I’ve been wanting to do that for close to a year, and I finally had my chance to do it, and it felt so right, and--”

“Please, Kelda, stop apologizing, it’s fine. Luna never kissed me like that, it was always some surface-level reward for doing some awful thing for her. You...you did that out of genuine affection, which is something I never got from her. You actually wanted to do it, and that’s what matters to me. And you know what? It honestly made me feel a lot better. Mind if I repay the favor?”

Kelda starts to become flustered again. “Oh, well, Flynn, you really don’t need to-it was totally uncalled-I really shouldn--”

Flynn kisses Kelda, cutting her off. They separate, and Kelda lets out an excited squeal.

“Wow, you know, you’re really good at that,” says Flynn. “Must be all that saxophone experience.”

Kelda giggles excitedly, her face almost as red as her hair. “Thanks,” she says quietly. Kelda looks out through the window, watching the rain pour down as vigorously as ever. She notices the clock in the reflection and her eyes go wide. She quickly brings up her watch. 

“Oh my god, it’s almost midnight!” she exclaims, jumping out of the booth. “I was supposed to get out of here li-like 30 minutes ago! Flynn, are you coming with me or not?”

“Well, you’ve made your case pretty well, it really does seem that there aren’t any other available options for me, so yeah, I guess I’ll go with you.” 

Kelda giggles excitedly, she starts jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

“You might have to help me up, though, my legs are still messed up. I think Luna fractured something,” says Flynn.

Kelda stops jumping. “Ok. Yeah, I can do that. I-I’ll be right back, gotta clean up first.”

Kelda grabs all the dishes and trash and runs off into the kitchen. A loud crash followed by a shrill yelp is heard, then some clattering and sweeping sounds, and finally Kelda returns from the kitchen, panting. “Heh. Dropped… dropped a plate,” she says.

Flynn lets out a small chuckle. “I heard. Ready to go?”

“Oh, right! Let me lock up first, then we can go.” Kelda runs over to the restaurant’s front door, locks it, and then runs back to the booth. On the way she stops and picks up Flynn’s broken sunglasses, which she puts in a pocket. “Alright, now I’m ready to go.” 

“Right on, let’s do it,” says Flynn. He slides to the end of the booth, Kelda puts her arm around his back and helps him stand. Flynn grunts in pain as he stands, his legs nearly come out from under him. The two slowly make their way to the restaurant's back door, which Kelda opens. The door opens out into an alley, where a small motorcycle sits parked. Rain is still coming down hard, creating a deafening din in the cramped alleyway. Kelda closes the door behind her and locks it.

“Want your jacket back?” shouts Flynn, having to yell over the roar of the weather.

“No, keep it!” she says.

Flynn begins to slide the jacket off of his body. “You sure? You’re the one driving, after all!”

“I’m not the one covered in injuries!”

Flynn stops then puts the jacket back on. “Fair enough!”

The two limp over to the bike, Kelda climbs into the seat. “Think you can fit in behind me? I know it’s not really a two-seater, but I don’t take up too much room!”

“Uh, maybe? It’ll definitely be a tight fit!” Flynn awkwardly clambers into a somewhat stable position behind Kelda. 

Kelda fires up the motorcycle’s engine. “Alright, we don’t have very far to go, so hold on tight! I’ll try not to go too fast, ok?” shouts Kelda, now having to compete against the rain and the bike’s engine.

“Hey, Kelda?” says Flynn. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” Kelda turns around to face Flynn, who kisses her once more.

“Thank you. Thank you, so, so much,” says Flynn. 

Kelda simply smiles, a beaming, beautiful smile. She turns back around, and Flynn puts his arms around her chest. They drive out of the alleyway and into the rainy night.

Let me know what you think! Who did you like more, and why is it Kelda? Do you want to see more of their story? Perhaps what happens when they get back to Kelda's house? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

But yeah, in all seriousness, let me know what you thought of the story! Just be nice, I'm very sensitive to criticism, and writing is intensely personal to me. Thanks!

I'm really growing to like this site, but it has a lot of pretty frustrating oversights and omissions, one of which being the "Aura" system. I'd like to be able to advertise myself as more than just an artist because I am more than just an artist. I draw, I write, I love listening to music, I've got some rudimentary programming skills, I both make and play games, and I could probably do some voice acting with a little bit of practice. I and a lot of people are capable of doing many different things, but we aren't allowed to advertise ourselves as such, which is just a little obtuse.

Also, a dedicated literature portal would be amazing, though I can understand the hesitance to do so considering it would likely be an unnecessary waste of already strained resources.

I should've just finished posting all of the pixel art that I originally made for Twitter, so now it's time to begin with the Krita stuff

First post on Newgrounds, huh? I'd always seen/heard of this site as a kid, you always knew the flash game you were about to play was going to be a banger when that NG logo showed up. I'd even visited the site a few times as a kid, though I never stayed for long. NG was blocked on my school's computers and I never really thought about visiting it on my own time, and like I said on the few times I did I didn't stick around, a decision I highly regret.

Because this place fuckin' rocks.

Here I am, looking at this cornerstone of internet history, an oasis of creativity and inspiration, and all I can do is smile. It's Newgrounds. I've always loved the vibe this place has, it's a place that encourages a mindset that breeds creativity and doesn't shun people for being weird, experimental, or edgy. The site radiates that carefree vibe from every pore, from the layout design to the naming of different site elements. It's just...awesome, man.

So how will I use NG? Will it just be a second platform to post my art? Or will it become more than that? I don't know, but I think I'm excited to find out.