#psuedobirds

[petrichor-and-moondust]

You know, I recently got my PC upgraded, so I've been playing this game I was obsessed with in 2018. I never had the chance to play it before because I didn't have anything that was powerful enough to run it. It's called Detroit: Become Human and I've fallen completely in love with it again as I go through the levels and get to explore it myself and make my own choices, rather than scrounging YouTube to see different playthroughs.

I've completed my first playthrough, so I'm slowly going through to try and unlock every possible ending. 100%-ing every level- you would have no idea how MANY times I sat through that damn interrogation level.

One thing I discovered, which I didn't realise before, is- Kara doesn't have to deviate.

Like, I knew Connor doesn't have to become a deviant- it's kind of a key plot point, the whole, choosing between who you have been raised, trained, expected, and believed to be, versus what you are, what you could become, what you believe- what you want yourself- to be. But I had assumed that, like Markus, Kara just... becomes deviant. As in, you get pushed into the "break programming" sequence automatically after Todd gives you the order, but... you don't.

If you don't try to move, at all- no accidental button press, no nudge of the joystick- you sit (or well, stand) through a nauseating, painful monologue from Todd, before he heads upstairs to where Alice has hidden in her room. Then you hear the sounds of their scuffle, and it is so painful to sit through, and, well, it leads to a final cutscene where Kara enters Alice's room to see Todd lifting her lifeless body to her bed, tucking her in, before turning on Kara to now attack her.

It was...really nauseating to watch.

But what got me is...That's it.

The next Kara level -which for anyone wondering is Fugitives- is just... skipped over. I half-thought it might just reset her back to "Opening", but if her and Alice die in Stormy Night, that's IT. It really- baffled me, so I went through the flowchart, and sure enough, every single one of Kara's stories is skippable after Stormy Night. Her solo levels are all set off from the main chapters, and ones she shares with other characters will just exclude her POV play if she dies before reaching it.

Unlike Connor, who is simply replaced with another model over and over, gravestones increasing again and again in the zen garden with each visit, or Markus, who gets resurrected, rescued, and even has other characters rip out their own biocomponents to keep him alive- at least until the plot is progressed far enough- Kara is just. gone.

And it maybe shouldn't grab me as much, but it does. Because from a gameplay POV, killing off a main character permanently, and so early on in the game, is generally a pretty bad move. But from a narrative point? God, it's fucking genius. Because Detroit: Become Human is a story-centric game. It is told from the three different groups of people that are involved in every war, conflict, and genocide, regardless of the cause, the time, the place, the outcome.

The Opressors: the group who is suppressing, invading, enslaving, or otherwise actively causing harm to the others.

The Rebels: the ones of the oppressed group who are fighting back against the oppressors.

The Victims: everyone caught in the crossfire.

A war cannot happen if one of the opposing sides is not there to continue- if one side loses their leader in such a way that doesn't convert them into a martyr that spearheads that side's cause, it's over. It's won. This is why both Connor and Markus have -admittedly unconventional- plot armour until they get to a point in which it is no longer necessary.

The sparks have caught fire, the revolution has begun- everything is in motion and can no longer be prevented.

Connor is on the side of the Oppressors. Markus leads the Rebels.

Kara and Alice represent the Victims. They're a family forged through their lived experiences, both desperate for something the war has stripped away from them. And the war has stripped EVERYTHING away from them except each other. Kara and Alice are displaced refugees seeking asylum. The war defines them; it impacts every single aspect of their lives. Your actions as Markus and Connor impact the path of Kara more so than they ever impact each other. This is how war works- it ravages and destroys those caught in the crossfire far before it ever reaches the enemy side.

But Kara's actions have very little impact, on the other two's paths, other than a few guilt-tripped cutscenes. In fact, you can functionally complete the game through to its end without her. And it just- it really grabs you by the shoulders and forces you to confront the fact of how victims of war and refugees are treated head-on. Because that is what Kara is, and what her role in the story can be twisted into:

Inconsequential.

The actions of a victim have no true impact on the tides of a war. Whether you flee, barter, or even kill in order to continue on Kara's desperate bid for the border, it has no true impact on the overarching story- and that in itself is a HUGE point of the story. Because whilst everything Kara does has practically zero effect on the way androids are viewed, every single one of Markus' choices - which affect the way the public view androids- impacts her journey. If the public become sympathetic to androids - achieved through the pacifist route- they are sympathetic to Kara and Alice, who can then safely make it across the border. If the public become hostile towards androids, more and more opportunities in which Kara and Alice might be found out arise, and they end up anywhere from shot dead, to seperated, to discarded in a recycling plant.

The lives of victims do not matter to the powers at war. They are meaningless, disregarded, and of no consequence- seen as expected, or even as necessary sacrifices. Every sacrifice made by Markus and Connor in the game- be it their friends (leaving Simon to be found at the Tower or killing him), their comrades (choosing to chase Rupert rather than helping Hank), and even themselves (Markus setting himself alight; basically every damn choice Connor can make, but for example pushing himself off of the roof with Daniel) is done in order to further their mission- to advance the cause of their side: to free androids, or to eradicate deviants.

Kara doesn't care about that- her only motive is to defend. Every sacrifice Kara makes in the game is to protect Alice. She doesn't care if she is harming or helping the image of deviants as long as Alice is safe. Kara doesn't care about the war, because it doesn't care about her.

Everything Kara is, everything she does is functionally useless in the face of how she is perceived. Whether she shoots Todd or escapes out the window doesn't change how the bus driver treats her. Her choosing to stay in the abandoned house with Ralph instead of robbing the shop to stay at the motel makes no difference to Rose, and whether she kills Zlatkov or leaves him to the whims of his "creations" is of no interest to the border control guards. This is because her choices are not made freely, regardless of deviancy- they are forced by her environment. Every decision Kara makes is between a rock and a hard place.

There is no room for morals when you're fleeing all you've ever known with barely the clothes on your back. Do you trust that the shell-shocked, trembling stranger holding a knife to your daughter's throat is only acting out of fear and try to talk him down, or do you take no chances and shoot him- traumatising your child further, yes, but at least keeping her alive? Do you forgive the one who helped trap you, watched as your very identity was ripped away, on the grounds that he wasn't truly alive- do you trust him with your life? With Alice's life? Knowing that he had once endangered them, willingly or not? Will you trust the woman offering you safe harbour across the border, after all you've experienced- well, you have to, you don't have a choice- there is no other option because you're desperate, you're terrified; and even a false hope is better than none at all, because you know you will die if you stay, and if you die, who will look after Alice? Who will care for your daughter if you are not there to do so? She is all that matters. Everything you do must be done in order to protect her.

So you shoot the deviant and you trust Luthor and you kill every soldier who raids Jericho before they slaughter your family first.

And none of this matters to anyone, none of it does, because you are acting out of desperation and the reality of a kill-or-be-killed world- you are not systematically hunting down every android that steps out of line, not trying to capture them, destroy them, enslave your own people. You are not going out of your way to build an army and fight, raise a revolution; to demand civil rights, equality, respect. You are scared and running and there are so many just like you, doing the same. This is not worthy of note, of news coverage, of knowing. So it is not known, not plastered across every news station, not taken note of.

You are just trying to keep your daughter alive, and because of this, you are entirely expendable.

You haven't betrayed your people and seperated yourself from them by creating categories of "good" androids and "bad" androids -because you don't have time, and you're all made of the same silicon and thirium, and you'll never be treated human, so it's pointless, it doesn't matter- and you haven't spearheaded an explosive revolution and caused the city, the country, the world to really think about whether or not you are an individual or a piece of property.

And because you are not doing anything like this, nothing noteworthy, newsworthy, or public- because you are acting just like everyone, like the general populous (and God knows, no, They know, that that is much more dangerous than a revolutionary- because people can't find out you are just like them, because then they empathise, and it is MUCH harder to control the masses when they find out that the "others" are exactly the same as them, and always have been-no, that creates room for the masses to realise that the war is not for them, but for Them- for profit, for control, for power) and thus, like the general populous, you are of no real importance to the "Bigger Picture."

You are dehumanised to such a point that you are met with only extremist reactions- of contempt, of violence, or- rarely- of pity. What people know about what is actually going on is so tightly controlled that even you, living through it, experiencing it, don't truly understand what's happening. The public are so thoroughly desensitised to violence against your people either by constant exposure, fear-mongering, or total indifference, and you don't know which is worse, and you don't know how to go about stopping it, so you run. And you tell yourself everything will be better once you're out of the town, the area, the country.

Everything will be better once you cross the border; you will be safe and happy. Your daughter will be safe and happy.

Everything will be okay once you cross the border, once you escape, once you make it- you don't have papers or money or a connections or a place to go, but it's fine, because the people there will understand, the people there will be different, because at least you won't be here, and surely that's what matters.

Surely they will see and know what you have gone through. Surely the people there will be different than the people here. Surely they will be compassionate and kind and help you- help your daughter.

Because who could look at her and feel hate? Who could look at her and act out of vitriol and fear and derision?

Detroit: Become Human is a story about an android uprising. It is a story that has been told a million times- a war story, where the protagonist leads the rebels to victory, where he realises he's been fighting for the wrong side and has a last-minute redemption, turning the tide of the war and the oppressed rebels are victorious. It is a story that is blatantly and directly inspired by POC civil rights movements, by the US civil war, and the Holocaust; it is interactive yet cinematic in a way not many stories of its calibre are- generally restricted to one or the other.

It is also a story about refugees- about the people caught in the crossfire. And not in the typical standard, where they are used to tug on the heartstrings of the protagonist, to guilt the enemy, or lament a heart-rending monologue about how the war has destroyed their life that suddenly changes the public's opinion so drastically that the war is over within a week, but in a more blunt, realistic manner.

The public's opinion of a group isn't swayed by the actions of the displaced and imprisoned because they are not made aware of their actions. All that the public know is what they are told by those in control, who are using your people as a tool to keep them in line. All the public know is of the worst events- of "terrorist attacks" and "murders" and "violent, unsolicited attacks"- which aren't even those, not really.

It is twisted truths and gaslighting and flat-out lies: it is withholding evidence. Reporting on an android "viciously murdering its owner", but failing to include that the death was caused from an initial act of self-defence, that the man had attacked the android with a bat, intent to kill (not to mention the months of constant abuse leading up to it), it's reporting a news-station hijack as a "terrorist attack" when nobody was killed- nobody except one of the hijackers, but of course, they don't count- when the act was not meant to strike terror but to demand that they are seen as equals and not "other".

It is about the vice and choking control that corporations and the government have over information and everything we see, hear, experience- the complete lack of regard for human life fundamentally stemming from corporate greed, systemically taught to a whole nation, country, world, setting them on each other, to distract them from what's going on. Smoke and mirrors and gunfire disguised as fireworks.

Law enforcement do not grow to treat the androids as anything other than subhuman and the public do not accept them and apologise; CyberLife does not relinquish all androids and admit fault. The government only step in to call off their attack dogs when there is no other way for them to come out of it without making a martyr of Markus and villainising themselves. It is not out of goodwill, not out of morality, not out of a belief that androids should be treated as actual living beings. It is a purely strategic play to regain control before they lose it completely and the situation crumbles to anarchy. It is harsh and cruel and an uncertain victory in even the very best ending, and still it has no positive impact on Kara and Alice's life.

Their best outcome includes them fleeing to another country, seeking refuge with relatives of people they met just the day prior, away from everything they've known to a place with "no android laws"- but that means there's no laws protecting them either. The revolution is over, it's successful, they won, but it's no use to the people whose lives were already broken, ravaged, destroyed. No amount of laws passed will bring loved ones back from the dead. No number of people charged for crimes against androids will make up for what they experienced.

It is too little, too late; the flames of revolution engulfed it all and no amount of firefighters can turn the ashes back to what they once were.

War does not care for who it harms and what it destroys, and ceasefires do not undo the damage already done.

[chewybitart]

Reptile? Bird? Protobird? Psuedobird? Maybe

Time for dino!!!!