FAQ / don't make me repeat myself

A 37-year-old mechanic with daddy issues, a beer problem, and the emotional range of a rusty wrench. He's fat, bearded, grumpy, and somehow the heart of this whole thing. If you need more than that, read his page.

No. But yeah, parts of him. That's how writing works. Next question.

Trauma, unresolved anger, toxic masculinity he's trying to unlearn, and the existential dread of being in your late 30s wondering if this is all there is. Pick one.

Lmao no. That would require emotional vulnerability and admitting he needs help. This is Joe we're talking about.

Because he reacts. Because he's soft under all that grease and cigarette smoke. Because watching him squirm is entertainment for the rest of them.

No one's perfect. Mike just knows how to hide his shit better than everyone else. But yeah, he's pretty close to being the group's emotional support human.

Sergei looks dangerous. He's actually the softest one in the group. If that disappoints you, skill issue.

Because some people just are. Not everything needs a tragic backstory. Sometimes a golden retriever in human form is just that.

Polish guy, 35. Owns a game and console repair shop that smells like solder, dust, and old plastic. Total nerd about hardware, obscure games, and weird tech fixes. Can take apart a Game Boy blindfolded and diagnose a fried capacitor by sound alone. His shop is a cluttered shrine to gaming history where dead consoles go to get resurrected.

Not officially stated but if you're reading between the lines, draw your own conclusions. I'm not here to diagnose fictional characters.

Because that's who he is. Dark, dry, unhinged sometimes. Delivered deadpan like he doesn't care if they land or not. And honestly? He doesn't. If you can't handle that, he wouldn't like you anyway.

Yes. He just shows it quietly. Fixes things for free if he knows someone's struggling, shows up when people are spiraling with a weird game or distraction, pretends not to notice. The quiet helper who never makes it a thing. Hands stuff back like it was nothing.

Chaotic. Shelves lined with consoles in various states of disassembly. Smells permanently like solder. Organized by a logic only Pav understands. Not fancy, but real—a place where nostalgia goes to get fixed.

Yeah. Sharp as hell but awkward with people. His jokes are blunt and unfiltered. Sometimes they kill, sometimes they bomb, and his expression stays exactly the same either way.

Tech expertise, deadpan comedy, and quiet reliability. He's the friend who fixes your stuff without being asked, drops brutal jokes, and cares way more than he'll ever admit. The lifeline nobody asked for but everyone needs.

Probably. He'd never tell you because then you'd ask him to explain for 3 hours why it's objectively superior and he doesn't have the energy for that conversation.

Yes. It's my site, my OCs, my rules. If that's confusing, read slower.

Yeah. And? Gender presentation is a spectrum. Joe's oblivious. Mystery solved.

Ask me that again and I'm blocking you. But also maybe. Mind your business.

Because I can. Because I don't drink. Because watching drunk people is more entertaining sober. Pick whichever makes you feel better.

You already are. Stop pretending.

A character study in extreme isolation, mental illness, and the darkest corners of human psychology. He lives in filth, works in cybersecurity, and exists in moral gray areas. Heavy content warning. If you can't handle disturbing themes, skip his page. I'm not joking.

Because fiction is where you explore things that make you uncomfortable. Because mental illness and isolation look like this sometimes, and pretending it doesn't exist is cowardice. If you think depicting something means endorsing it, you're not mature enough for this content.

Yes. Same dimension, same reality. They'll never meet. The world is big enough for multiple stories.

A French special forces operative in Task Force 141. 5'5", always masked, expert in infiltration and hacking. Think Ghost but quieter and with spider motifs instead of skulls. She's got severe PTSD, autism, and a body count.

Same dimension, different world. Joe's in Texas fixing cars. Spider's deployed globally doing classified military shit. They exist in the same reality but will never cross paths. Stop trying to connect everything.

Not to anyone in Task Force 141. Her face is heavily scarred and that's her business. Asking this question makes you sound like the people who harass cosplayers to "prove" they're the character. Don't be that person.

It's called "Final Battle for Eternity." War comes to the Surface, bombs hit the Underground, and a human girl falls into absolute chaos. It's darker than canon Undertale—war, death, monsters forced to fight or die. Sans uses Gaster Blasters reluctantly. Papyrus learns what "kill or be killed" really means. It's brutal.

If exploring the consequences of actual war is "edgy" to you, then sure. Call it edgy. I call it "taking the premise seriously."

Because I wanted to explore Chara trying to STOP the genocide instead of enabling it. It's my AU. I do what I want with the characters.

An ancient shapeshifter who's over 100 years old and sees humans as insects. He has three forms, can turn invisible to humans, and operates on logic that spans centuries. He doesn't hate humanity—he just doesn't consider it important. Cold, detached, nearly impossible to understand.

He's beyond human concepts of good and evil. He's not cruel for fun, but he's also not kind. He just is. If that makes you uncomfortable, good. That's the point.

Because I contain multitudes. Because I'm interested in different genres and themes. Because limiting myself to one type of story is boring. Next question.

Most of them, yeah. Same dimension, different corners of reality. Joe's world is grounded and human. Spider's world is military operations. Scum exists in digital shadows. Ryven wanders between spaces humans don't see. They're all part of the same reality, they just never intersect. The world is big enough for all of them.

Probably not. That's not how reality works. You don't meet every person who exists in your world. Most lives never intersect. That's the point.

Pav's the Polish guy who owns a game repair shop and makes deadpan jokes that either land perfectly or crash spectacularly. He's in Joe's crew. He fixes consoles, smells like solder, and pretends not to care while clearly caring. Read Joe's page if you want more.

Yes. Slowly. Painfully. You will suffer. That's the point.

You're already doing it. Don't lie to me.

No. I thrive on your uncertainty.

Mike is Mike. If you need a label that badly, that's a you problem.

Because Joe wants what he can't have. Because he doesn't know how to connect like that. Because watching other people be close reminds him how lonely he is. Take your pick.

2024-2025. Joe's 37 turning 38. His nephew's 15. Math it out yourself if you care that much.

Doesn't matter. It's America, probably somewhere with dive bars and repair shops. Use your imagination.

Because that's what adults do when they don't know how to make plans. The bar is the default. It's ritual.

Yes. Joe's a mechanic. Mike works an office job. Pav owns a repair shop. Sergei does... something. They all have jobs. Rent exists.

Skill issue. Read again.

No. It's mature. There's a difference. Violence, language, adult themes, toxic masculinity, trauma—yeah. Explicit sexual content? No. If you can't handle swearing and emotional damage, leave.

Because I made it myself and I like it this way. If you want clean corporate web design, go to Medium.

No. It will never be finished. Websites are living things. If you're waiting for a "complete version," you're gonna die waiting.

It's not confusing, you're just impatient. Click around. Explore. Remember when the internet required effort?

Correct. Congrats on your observational skills. Want a sticker?

Yeah. Steal it. Credit appreciated but not required. Gatekeeping HTML is pathetic.

Because I wanted a site that's mine. No algorithm, no ads, no engagement metrics. Just content that exists because I made it. Revolutionary concept, I know.

Maybe. Not telling you where. If I wanted you to find me, I'd link it.

Because I don't want to moderate your opinions. This isn't a democracy. It's my site.

Maybe eventually. But knowing the internet, it'll get spammed with garbage in 48 hours. We'll see.

Skill issue. There's a brightness slider on your device. Use it.

Mostly. I tried. If something breaks on your phone, that's between you and your screen size.

Because getting inside his head is the only way to show how emotionally constipated he is. Also it's fun.

When I feel like it. Don't rush me.

Maybe. If it serves the story. If you're asking nervously, probably not what you're hoping for.

Go ahead. Just don't send it to me unless I ask. And don't make it weird. Actually, do whatever. I can't stop you.

Because real people are. Because pretending everyone's fine and well-adjusted is boring and dishonest. If that bothers you, you're not ready for this site.

Depiction is not endorsement. If you can't tell the difference, that's on you.

Parts of it. Which parts? None of your business.

Yes. I will cry. In a good way.

Sure. But if it's answered on the site already, I'm ignoring you.

If it's constructive, thoughtful, and I asked for it, sure. Otherwise, keep it in your notes app.

Because I don't owe you a response. Silence is also an answer. Learn to read it.

Maybe. But don't trauma dump on me unprompted and expect emotional labor. I'm a stranger on the internet, not your therapist.

I'm not hostile. I just don't sugarcoat things. If that feels hostile to you, maybe examine why you expect strangers to baby you.