My story starts in a place most people spend their whole lives trying to avoid: stuck in a facility, living with chronic illness and disability, and doing most things from a bed. Ex-IT, introverted, and officially Disabled Gen, life did not go to plan—but games, folklore, and tech gave a way to keep choosing something beyond just “patient.”

As a lifelong RPG lover, characters and worlds became more than entertainment—they became escape routes and mirrors. That same energy now fuels everything created under N.G.G, from gaming-lore videos to dark folklore threads and AI-driven avatars that let a digital version move, speak, and exist where the physical body cannot.

Day to day, content is shaped around what it’s actually like to be a disabled gamer using tech and AI to stay in the game: gaming news, lore dives, honest gear takes, and shoppable tools that genuinely work when you play and live differently. No skits, no fake hype—just real signal from someone who games from a bed and still cares about performance, accessibility, and immersion.

AI and avatars are not shortcuts; they are adaptive gear. The current avatar setup uses voice synthesis with plans to clone the real voice and bring a fully rigged 3D model—based on a Shadowrun character—into motion, right down to detailed facial animation in Blender. Every upgrade is one more way to step further into digital spaces that are otherwise inaccessible physically.

Folklore, myth, and horror run through nearly everything created: Italian fairy spirits that bring sleep paralysis, wood elves who weave fate, banshee-like Assyrian spirits, South American omens, Jewish dybbuks, and fae courts that blur the line between beauty and terror. These stories show how every culture has used monsters and spirits to talk about fear, boundaries, injustice, and survival—things that feel very familiar when you live inside a medical system.

This shop is part of that same story: turning all of that—bedridden nights, game sessions, AI experiments, and dark lore rabbit holes—into designs you can actually wear. Every purchase helps fund more gear, more tech, and more independence, but it also connects you to a small, stubborn corner of the internet that believes disabled, introverted, chronically ill creators still deserve to build worlds—and wardrobes—on their own terms