> About This Site

Meet The Dirtbags - a ragtag team of outcasts who investigate whatever wants to destroy the world today.

There's the noobie girl loser with a ghost dog for a best friend, the washed-up detective with a barely functioning liver, and a strange witch with a mountain of secrets. Together, they're all the world's got.

Avatar

USER_NAME

Webmaster

{Name Here} is from many places but spends most of their time making playlists for their characters and imagining scenes instead of actually writing the book.

HTML Badge
CSS Badge
JS Badge

> Cool Stuff

Art Icon Art
Projects Icon Projects
Links Icon Links

Pixel Art

|\___/| \\ ) ( |\_/| || ' =\ /= )- - '._.-""""-. // )===( =\T_= / ~ ~ \// / \ `"`\ ~ / ~ / | | |~ \ | ~/ / \ \ ~/- \ ~\ \ / || | // /` jgs_/\_/\_ _/_/\_/\_/\_((_|\((_//\_/\_/\_ | | | |( ( | | | | | | | | | | | | | | ) ) | | | | | | | | | | | | | |(_( | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |

TAB 1 CONTENT HERE. Replace with your own content.

Vorlis fractum in the dying glow of Elriel’s shattered sky, where the Red Signal still echoes from a war long past. Splicer knew the signal was never meant for him, but the Xenotrek relay pulsed in his cortex anyway, static bleeding through his veins like cold iron. The Dead Girl whispered in the void, her presence felt in the flicker of corrupted memetics, in the glitch-haunted code buried deep beneath the Numbpilled archives.

Art Banner

My Projects

TAB 2 CONTENT HERE. Replace with your own content. Numbpilled operatives scour the deepnet, searching for the remnants of the old world’s knowledge, for keys to the locked archives of the machine gods. The xenocode is incomplete, fragmented in the crash, and only those who have walked the glitch-mazes of Xenotrek remember the way. But the path is closing. The signal is decaying. And Splicer knows—whatever is waking up in the dark, it has been waiting for far too long.

Project 1 Project 2 Project 3

Cool Links

TAB 3 CONTENT HERE. Replace with your own content. The Splicer hunts through fractured grids, sifting through echoes of a time before the collapse. His hands, once flesh, are now augments of lost code, rewriting themselves as he moves. He doesn’t remember the first time he jacked into the void, only that it was a mistake, and now the systems won’t let him go. The Ghostframe runs in loops, broadcasting whispers of the Dead Girl’s last words across a network that should have been severed LONG AGO.

Banner

> 3D Widget