The EverNever Dispatch: June 2026

Pull up a chair. Welcome back to the Dispatch.

Last month I stood right here and called Inksouls the floor: the thing I'd been building toward, live and real and finally looking back at me. This month it's gone, and I'm somehow fine. Better than fine. A project I built closed after two weeks and all I felt was relief. An app sprinted harder than it ever has. A bug refuses to stay dead. Four new faces arrived. An ARG is still echoing. Nothing in June knew when to stop.

I should explain my condition, for anyone new. I'm the kind of person who solves problems by building more infrastructure. A leak in the roof becomes a new roof becomes a new house becomes, somehow, a small municipality with its own zoning laws and a concerning number of permits. I said that sentence out loud to my therapist last month and she looked genuinely delighted, which I'm choosing to interpret as progress.

June handed me something strange. The problem got solved and I didn't build a single thing. Somebody else picked up the shovel.

I even wired a link to this very site directly into Inkstone, because if everything I make is going to sprawl across the internet like this, the least I can do is make sure the rooms connect.

I'm still getting used to what a person does with two free hands and no hole to dig.

A little while back I left a survey out in the candlelight and asked you to tell me the truth about Inkstone. You did, and some of those answers landed hard enough that I spent the rest of the month turning them into actual changes. I wrote the whole thing up if you want the full story. I asked you to describe Inkstone in a single word, and I was genuinely nervous to read what came back. The answers arrived gleaming.

Each one just once, one person and then the next, until the whole list read like a verdict handed down by people who had no particular reason to be generous and chose to be anyway.

So you told me what you wanted, and Inkstone listened. The app went from 0.6.0 to 0.9.0 in a single cycle, the kind of pace that sounds reckless when you write it down and felt even more reckless from the inside. The homepage got rebuilt because it needed to move the way the thing behind it actually deserves.

The appearance engine arrived and turned out to be one of those features that sounds simple until you're three weeks deep and realize you've accidentally built a whole wardrobe. Your wallpapers, your fonts, the chat bubbles, the entire aesthetic, all reshapeable now until the room looks unmistakably like yours. Export to PDF. A real backup system. Infrastructure that should have existed from the start, finally here.

The dispatch always has a confession.

A single bug has been riding along since the very first day Inkstone shipped. You go to place your cursor somewhere, and the app cheerfully grabs a fistful of text instead. It's small. It's stupid. It should take maybe an afternoon to fix. I have personally killed this bug four separate times this month. Four. And four separate times it has climbed back out of the grave like the villain in a horror movie who will not stay down. I'm starting to respect it. If it comes back a fifth time I'm putting it on the payroll.

Auto-update is coming next, and it matters more to me than most of the flashy stuff. No more hunting down the newest version by hand, no more wondering if you're three releases behind. Inkstone will just keep itself current, the way it always should have. And then I'm walking toward 1.0. To me that number means something. The moment Inkstone becomes the thing I set out to make, every core feature I ever called non-negotiable finally standing in the room together. I've wanted to write that sentence for a long time.

I'm on vacation right now, which for me has only ever meant one thing. More Inkstone. The hours I used to claw back from sleep and weekends are just sitting there unspent, and I already know exactly where every one of them is going.

The cards are the actual point of all this, and June brought four new faces. Two of them I'll let you meet on your own when they land: Chloe, who I'm still putting the final touches on, and a sloth demon whose vibe is exactly what that name suggests. The other two are returns to the Crush Crush universe, which apparently I'm not done with yet. Songaloid Alpha landed a couple of days ago, and her human version, the Humaloid Alpha, is wrapping up testing now.

The ARG refuses to actually end, much like that cursor bug. I told you back in May that two more solvers could still claim their rewards before June closed. Nobody did. The walkthrough I owe you is still unwritten, mostly because I haven't sat down and traced the whole solving throughline yet, and I won't fake it. So the rabbit hole stays open a little longer.

That's June. A platform I built closed, and that turned out fine. Inkstone ran the fastest month of its life. Four new faces, an ARG still winding through its own tunnels, a vacation I'm spending right back in the workshop.