Stay sharp— life’s a gamble, you can't win
Card Sharp is a stylish, slow-burn
thriller about power, paranoia, trauma, and control, set in a
1950s-inspired sci-fi underworld of corporate gods, memory hacking, and
backroom betrayal.
Perfect for fans of morally-compromised protagonists, political mind games, mob drama, and emotionally messy boys on the brink.
Navigate the maze. Every corner hides a secret, every page flips another layer of the game. Start here to unravel the story’s tangled threads.
Meet the players in this shadow play—each with their own scars, secrets, and stakes. Know who’s bluffing, who’s folding, and who’s playing for keeps.
Fresh intel and shifting tides. Stay ahead of the chaos with the latest moves, revelations, and disruptions in the world of Card Sharp.
A visual ledger of shadows and light—step inside to see the faces, places, and moments that haunt the story.
Discover the latest chapters in our engaging collection of short stories and chapters.
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I’m here to push what’s expected and tell stories no one’s dared to tell before. I dive into real pain and real relationships—no glamour, no gloss—just raw, unfiltered truth. I write what I know, and I create what I feel. Drawing and 3D art blend in my work to bring a fresh edge to my style. I’ve poured over five years into Card Sharp, and Hollice’s story isn’t just a project—it’s a passion, a reckoning, and a world I live in.
I’ve been drawing since 2015 and crafting worlds through writing since 2016. I dipped my toes into video game development with a dating sim and a point-and-click adventure—projects that never quite took flight but taught me a lot. Since 2020, I’ve been pouring myself into Card Sharp, the story I’m most invested in and have never given up on. Hollice isn’t just a character to me; he’s a part of my life. I believe his story can reach and help others who feel lost, just like he was.
I’m 24, almost 25, and stuck in retail—life’s way of keeping me humble, I guess. Being a twin has shaped how I see the world; family and forgiveness mean everything to me. Life isn’t about chasing happiness every second—it’s about finding contentment, embracing the mess, and forgiving what and who you can. That’s the real story I live by.
Real people. Real pain. And all the things we’re not supposed to talk about. I’m drawn to the stories that live in silence—the messy, complicated feelings we pretend not to have but carry anyway. As someone who overthinks everything, I tend to sit with those emotions and turn them over until they start to mean something. I think more people should.
Card Sharp pulls from a strange cocktail of inspirations. The casino setting and mid-century atmosphere owe a lot to Fallout: New Vegas, which was probably my first real spark. Las Paraiso was heavily inspired by Omega from Mass Effect, but the weirder parts—the strange, dreamy edges—come from unexpected places: 1940s films, the Adventure Time episode "Jake the Star Child," and The Hogfather from Discworld. It's a mix of things that stuck with me, twisted together into something new.
Because I needed to. Hollice’s story came to me when I was lost in my early twenties. I had just failed as a game developer and was hit with the reality that being creative alone isn’t enough to survive in this world. I had to get my life together at a time when all I wanted was to keep dreaming. But the sting of failure lit something in me—it pushed me to build something new and, for once, stick with it.
I’ve changed a lot since then. And Hollice’s story has changed with me. We’ve both come a long way.
I’ve always been an artist. Ever since I was a kid, I was drawing and being weird—in the best way. But it wasn’t until my late teens and early 20s that I really tried to make comics. That’s when I realized something: pictures could show a lot, but words could hit deeper. I’ve been obsessively creating characters and lore since I was 15, but for a long time, I wasn’t telling stories—just building worlds.
Now I’m learning that real power comes from combining the two. Art can draw you in, but it’s the words that hold you there—feelings that hit hard and stay with you. I think everyone should have the chance to experience that kind of connection. That’s what I’m chasing.
It’s okay to be broken. Healing isn’t clean. And even when everything feels rigged, you can still find your own way out.
We’re living in a black-and-white time—morals boxed in, stories flattened, and nuance thrown out in favor of instant gratification or moral purity. Don’t get me wrong, I love a little smut like the rest of us—but I miss the stories that hurt, that lingered, that pushed the envelope and left you questioning yourself. Where’s the gray? Where’s the discomfort that makes you grow?
That’s what Card Sharp is. I don’t want you to pick sides. I want you to be a devil’s advocate. I want you to sit with the characters’ motives, their trauma, their mess—and think. No one here is clean. No one’s a villain without reason. And that’s the point. Just like in real life.
What inspires your work?