CARDBOARD HYPERFIX

@cardboardhyperfix.bsky.social

75 Followers 386 Following

https://cardboardhyperfix.neocities.org/ https://cardboardhyperfix.itch.io/ Ive been on tumblr since 2011 and so i guess I'm here now too. TTRPGs, photography, toku, video games, board games.

Screenshot of the music video Once in a Lifetime by The Talking Heads
Screenshot of a conversation from Disco Elysium: The Deserter"The mask of humanity fall from capital. It has to take it off to kill everyone — everything you love; all the hope and tenderness in the world. It has to take it off, just for one second. To do the deed. And then you see it. As it strangles and beats your friends to death... the sweetest, most courageous people in the world. You see the fear and power in its eyes. Then you *know*." You: "What?" The Deserter: "That the bourgeois are not human."
Screenshot of three paragraphs that reads: When i played, i was the veteran and i felt kind of down the whole time (in a good way). The weight of the sword is just always there. I felt it with every moment. Another player was someone that looked up to me and that i was trying to help steer in the right direction (they were a petty thief i think, whatever role that is). They went missing at one point in a ruin and none of the characters knew where he was, so i knew i had to go find him. I grabbed the handle of my sword as i ran out, and it felt like a thunderbolt. My character was prepared to do what he must never do again, and that energy made me almost start crying. The thief found an old run down and besieged castle, full of dead soldiers, and turned away because he didnt want my character to find him there since he knew it would be devastating for me to witness. Like, I've never felt more tired after playing a role-playing game, but it was more of a good workout tired. I knew i was better for doing it. So yeah, play wanderhome, you might cry (i did).
what i think when i ride the train maybe my father made these couplers. his hands were hard and black and swollen, the knuckles like lugs or bolts in a rich man’s box. he broke a bone each year as if on schedule. when i read about a wreck, how the cars buckle together or hang from the track in a chain, but never separate, i think; see, there’s my father, he was a chipper, he made the best damn couplers in the whole white world.