I can be found on twitter and I make stuff surrounding Hellhounds. Even set up a Patreon for it but nothing has really taken off.

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I decided to release all my previously planned storylines that I had drawn up and I have a LOT of them, and some are vague, some are detailed, and more than a few aren't even MLP related. I think that by having to throw my ideas out in the wild, I could re-examine them. Ideas are only as good as the execution, so I don't believe any of them are good due to my failure to complete the stories they're attached to.

I'll start with the two fics I had posted on this site.

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So update from last time. I managed to find a new job by pure chance, and how I got hired is a tad strange to me. So I was walking around looking for buildings that had the whole "WE ARE HIRING" poster on the front, and whilst waltzing past some building under construction I took a look at one of the papers plastered on the side of it. Within a second of me stopping in front of the building to look some guy comes running out the building asking if I'm looking for a job. A tad confused I say

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I tend to lie through admission rather often. It's a bad habit of mine that happens either on accident or on purpose, and my most recent lie through admission would be in regards to my work. I quit my job. Had a two, more like three, week notice too. This important news has not been conveyed to literally anyone of my friends or family. This is not the first time I've done this, albeit the first time when it happened I felt quite liberated for a couple of reasons I shall shortly explain and

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Here's another log for the sometimes monthly diary so I don't ever forget who I used to be once the years pass by. I don't particularly celebrate christmas all that much, but merry christmas all the same. This year's holidays was both disappointing and wasn't at the same time, and for a reason that makes me feel like a hypocrite upon trying to type it out, since I generally disliked whatever presents were thrown at me. My favorite among them was a book, or more specifically a graphic

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Whenever you experience a story either it be from, movies, books, or video games there will come a point in the story where a truth is declared either it be justice prevail or something more nuanced like the meaning of determination and death. Usually how true it is becomes irrelevant as for the purposes of the story it being true rounds out the story. Doesn't really matter if Justice doesn't always prevail in real life, as its a story meant to inspire hope or be an escape so you can believe it

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I've found myself reading on a website called Royal Road as of late as one story on there took my immediate attention for a very special reason. Now for some basic backstory I used to be a Displaced writer here, many of those projects long since deleted or old chapters on current stories just hidden, so low and behold when I found a story called Displaced. The story even had the same premise as the displaced fics on this site with a minor change in that the powers gained aren't explicitly said

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My last blog was me talking about how I adore tragedy, but I'm gonna make this one the opposite on why there are instances where I find it incredibly annoying. Though of course before I do so I want to mention a few minor things as a tangent. I've started a rather large editing project where I went back to old RP Discords servers and redo those scenes in a new format to make it into an actual story, which has been on my mind for a while. Initially I thought it would be a simple editing job

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Recently I have discovered an unusual preference in the stuff I read, mostly in how I didn't notice sooner. I absolutely adore tragedy. I would like to try and detail as to why, because for the longest time my favorite thing to read was usually the opposite. To begin I don't have full understanding of myself, so some of what I say may not be...conclusive, or just vague. For example I have come to associate tragedy to depth of character, which isn't really true nor does it even explain

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The moon rises alongside the spires in the distance. Fires burn unwise to be insistent on continuous persistence, yet still they wither. I, myself, am fond of simple rhymes even if to consider them takes far too long. I'll have a flow where I write out a small degree of words, but then I'll spontaneously stop as the first hurdles begin to present themselves. The inability to solidly push past the barrier is hardly fair. To find myself stopped from a dream, not from lack of vision, but from the

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