Put the punk back in cyberpunk. If I ever get a sick assed robot body it will be because I built it myself, from scraps discarded by the rig owning class.
n. c. wyeth
This oppressive cyberpunk dystopia is nothing like the oppressive cyberpunk dystopian future I was promised.
a year old and still fucking relevant
Where are my made-to-order Rutger Hauers?
The RPGs of my youth are looking less like games and more like tech manuals sent back from the future.
I was clearly promised that I would be able to jack into things. Where is my holo-rig?
I am powerless to not reblog either Gillian Anderson or creatures from lagoons. They’re in the same place so, sorry.
greetings from the worst version of cyberpunk
adulthood is just an endless stream of phone calls you don’t want to make but have to
Sometimes you have to fill out forms about what terrible decisions you make too.
I have a job, cars enough that I make it there every day, I eat healthy, my kids sleep indoors and they’ve never been hungry, but I’m not good enough for this stupid club?
The adult world can go fuck itself.