The terms, in plain words.

What you are buying, what we can and cannot do, and what happens to your Vault if you stop paying. No clause here says something the rest of the site does not.

Effective August 21, 2026 Siliroid LLC hello@liir.net

1 Who you are dealing with#

Liir is built and operated by Siliroid LLC. Writing to hello@liir.net reaches a person, not a ticket queue. If we get popular enough, it’ll reach a person, eventually.

Using Liir means you accept these terms. You need to be old enough to enter a contract where you live, which in most places means 18.

2 How we serve you and what you get from us#

A Liir is your account with us: claimed once, by invitation. It carries your name, your page, your address if you claim a mailbox, and a Vault that runs free on your own hardware. A Liirlit is that name written as a mark: the beads spell it, anyone may scan it, and only you can answer for it. Claiming both costs nothing, and this agreement covers you whether you ever buy anything or not.

What we sell on top of the free estate:

Prices are in US dollars. While you stay subscribed, your rate stays the rate you signed up at, even if the list price rises later.

3 What we cannot do, and why#

Your Vault is sealed on your device before it reaches us. We hold what we cannot read. That is the whole point of Liir, and it has a consequence we will not soften:

If you lose your key, we cannot recover your data. Not for a fee, not with proof of identity, not by court order. There is no master key, no reset, and no back door. What we could break for you, someone else could break for them.

Keep your recovery material somewhere you will still have it in ten years. That responsibility is genuinely yours, and it is the price of the promise.

4 Paying and renewing#

Subscriptions renew automatically, monthly or yearly, until you cancel. Cancel any time from your account. Cancelling stops the next renewal; the service you already paid for runs to the end of that period.

Card details are handled by Stripe and never touch our servers. If a payment fails, we retry for a short while and write to you before anything changes.

5 Refunds#

Ask at hello@liir.net. We would much rather refund you than have you dispute a charge.

6 If you stop paying#

A missed renewal starts a 3-day grace period: nothing changes for three days, so a stale card is an errand, not an emergency. After that, live services end: sync, mail, and your page.

Your Vault is then frozen: sealed, not deleted, and stays reclaimable for as long as Liir operates. Frozen has two doors: resume paying and everything simply resumes, or download the entire archive as one unit and take it home. Come back in a year or a decade, either door still opens.

You never pay merely to keep owning what is already yours.

7 How Cold Storage behaves#

You have 30 days to fill a cold shelf. Then it seals, and is committed to offline archive within 30 days. Retention runs 10 years for Cold 500 and Cold 2500, and indefinitely for Cold 10K: for as long as we operate. If we ever close, we will make our best effort to mail your archive out to you.

One restore is free. Additional restores are $9.99. Restores return the whole archive, and they are honestly slow. It really is in a deep vault.

8 What you may not put here#

We cannot read your Vault, so this is a promise you make rather than a filter we run. Do not use Liir to store or send material that is illegal where you are, to break into things that are not yours, or to send mail in bulk to people who did not ask for it.

If a lawful order or a credible report reaches us about a specific account, we may suspend its live services. Even then, sealed content stays sealed, because we could not open it if we tried.

9 If Liir ever winds down#

A vault whose company vanishes overnight is not a vault. If Liir stops operating, we will give at least 90 days notice to the address on your account, keep export running for that whole window, and publish the format so your archive can be opened without us.

We do not promise Liir will exist forever. We promise you will not learn it ended by finding a dead page.

10 Vanity Nameplates#

A nameplate is a chosen public name with a mark of its own, worn so your true Liir never has to be. It costs $4.99, paid once, and paid once means owned: it never expires, never renews, and is never held against a payment.

11 The nameplate market#

A nameplate can be sold, and only through Thiir (thiir.net), our own market: list it there at your price, and your page carries a door to the listing. The transfer happens on Thiir, in the ceremony, and a nameplate cannot change hands any other way: there is no second door. Each sale carries a 10% fee, and no transfer moves for less than $4.99: a nameplate never sells below the price of minting a new one. Selling requires the verification in section 12.

The ceremony is escrow: the buyer's money and the nameplate change hands in the same breath, or not at all. Money that moves outside the ceremony buys nothing we can see, protects nobody, and settles no dispute.

When a nameplate changes hands, its public page says so: transferred, and the date. Who sold and who bought stays private; that it moved does not. A mask's history restarts where the mark says it does. This is the one thing on a page that has no dial: it stays public at all times and cannot be set to ask, to Liir-only, or to vaulted.

A Liir itself is never for sale: a Liir binds to a person, not to a price. Handing over an account is the one transfer we do not honor and cannot protect. The vault stays recoverable by whoever held its cards, so a handed-over account can always be taken back by its old keeper, and we defend no one from that. Where heart and hands stop matching, section 12 applies: every Liir involved may be suspended together, and nameplates moved to dodge the market are revoked without refund.

12 Verification and enforcement#

We offer age and identity verification, and it runs through outside providers built for exactly this: they check the document, we receive a pass or a fail, and we keep the pass, never the document. Ordinary use never requires any of it: you can hold a Liir, a mailbox, and a Vault without anyone ever seeing your papers.

If a Liir is used to disrupt, defraud, or break the law, we may suspend it and require verification before it wakes. Holding several Liirs is allowed; using them to evade a suspension, a court order, or the law is not, and every Liir involved may be suspended together.

We answer lawful orders with what we actually hold, which the privacy page lists in full. What we hold of any Vault is sealed: we can be compelled to produce ciphertext, and nothing we possess can read it.

13 The unglamorous part#

Liir is provided as it is, without warranties beyond those the law gives you and will not let us waive. To the extent the law allows, our liability for any claim is limited to what you paid us in the 12 months before it arose.

These terms are governed by Oregon law, and disputes belong to the state or federal courts sitting there.

If we change these terms, the date below changes, and material changes are sent to the address on your account before they take effect.

14 The words we use#

Plain words are a promise here. When these pages use a word of ours, this is what it means.

Liir. Your account with us, and the name it answers to. Claimed once, by invitation.

Liirlit. Your name written as a mark: the beads spell it, anyone may scan it, and only you can answer for it.

Beads and blades. The parts of the mark. Beads carry the letters; blades give the mark its shape. Longer names carry more of both.

Rings and armor. How large the mark is drawn, and how much of it can be lost before the name is. Chosen once at the ceremony, worn forever.

The heart. The center of the mark. It lights when you verify, and it stays gold on every nameplate: a reminder that the mark still needs you.

Thiir. The count: four digits struck into a nameplate’s address when it is claimed. The digits are the written representation of that one Liirlit: they appear wherever addresses do, in mail and links, while the mark itself is what tells two names apart on sight. The word is borrowed from vhaasi, where it means count.

Vanity Nameplate. A chosen public name with a silver mark of its own, worn beside your true name’s gold. Paid once, owned forever.

Thiir, the market. The one place a nameplate can change hands: thiir.net. There is no second door.

The Vault. The sealed room of your account. It is sealed on your device before it reaches us, and we cannot open it. Ever.

Vault words. Six words chance chose, shown once and written on paper. They are the key to the Vault: the everything-key.

Etch and etching. To etch is to keep something for good: a letter, a file, a photo crosses into the Vault, kept word for word. The kept thing is an etching, and every etching carries its own dial: sealed for you alone, shown when someone asks, or published on your page. Everything starts sealed.

Liirpad. Our secure canvas input. Vault words appear there and are entered there, and nowhere else: never in a text field, never in the page.

Daily key. The passkey that opens your account day to day: face, fingerprint, PIN, or a security key. The paper unlocks the vault; this unlocks your account.

Cold Key. A physical engraved card carrying your encoded mark. A printed object, never issued digitally.

Cloak. An address that stands in for yours with one company only. Cut the cloak and that one door closes; your real address never moved.

Provenance. The record a nameplate carries for life: that it changed hands, and when. It is public and cannot be hidden.

Reservation. The hour the ceremony holds your chosen names while you finish. Walk away inside it and nothing exists: no account, no charge, nothing to undo.

Sovereign. The estate running on your own hardware instead of ours. Same rooms, your machine, your custody entirely.

Custody. Who holds the keys to a thing, and so who can truly open it. Most services keep custody of your data: they can read it, reset it, and hand it over. Liir does not take custody of your vault. You hold the keys; we hold sealed boxes we cannot open. The only things ever in our custody are the ciphertext itself and the lights on your public page. Every promise in this agreement stands on that one word.

This page is the whole agreement. If it changes, this date changes: August 21, 2026.