Tagged With detroit become human


Quantic Dream’s Detroit: Become Human doesn’t seem like the type of video game that would spawn an enthusiastic fandom on Tumblr. It’s a sci-fi game about robot civil rights that sometimes stumbles in its political commentary, and there’s nary a romance plot in sight.

Nevertheless, fans are writing fic, making art and finding virtues in a game that not everyone likes (Kotaku’s own Kirk Hamilton called the script “dopey”). Many of the most hardcore fans agree that the game has issues. They still want to make the characters kiss.


Say what you will about Detroit's plot, terrible tropes, or its handling of its subject matter (and we have). Despite its glaring flaws and painful David Cageisms, I can't stop playing Quantic Dream's latest game for one main reason - Detroit: Become Human is possibly the first game that has come through on the promise of a truly branching, reactive storyline.


Quantic Dream's is full of secrets, lore and new scenes to be unlocked throughout multiple playthroughs, but one particular set of messages took fans almost two months to discover and decipher. The bite-sized messages are full of pop culture references, notes from the dev team and weird snatches of code chronicling features of the game itself. Here's what's been found.


Detroit is forcing me to do things I don’t want to so I’ve paused it in protest and am just sitting here,” I messaged the group chat on Sunday.

I’d resolved to finish the game that weekend, but I’d reached an impasse. It wasn’t caused by the type of question you’d expect from a game - save this or that character, choose between high or low risk and reward. It was because I was being forced into a morally reprehensible act which undermined the central conflict of the game.


David Cage's Detroit: Become Human wants to talk about difficult questions. The game from Cage's studio Quantic Dream, is a story of android prejudice and rebellion touches upon questions of the soul and the nature of being. But Detroit is also a bloated action movie romp. One sequence, a series in a pattern for Cage, denigrates the female protagonist. It's pointless voyeurism, and I'm sick of it.


It's late in the evening. I've moved the console to the bedroom, so I can enjoy a bit of Detroit in warmth and comfort. I fire up the game, and while the main menu loads, I duck off to the toilet.

Nobody else is home, so I don't bother to shut the door. It's at that point that the worst possible sound echoes from the bedroom.

"I think your save file is corrupted," Kara chirps.


I played Detroit: Become Human in the company of director David Cage last week. Cage told us that the game is designed to be as fun to watch as it is to play, so when Sony sent us 30 minutes of footage from various episodes of the game, I decided to out that statement to the test. Gita Jackson and I recorded ourselves watching and reacting to the footage. We had a good time talking about how much we want to play the game.


A nice byproduct from the rise of Telltale's episodic games, and the developers who followed in their path, was a collective realisation. Finally, games had a new way to telling intricate, powerful stories - without being bogged down by too many arbitrary mechanics.

Unfortunately, Detroit: Become Human didn't quite get the memo.


I'm not a programmer. But having grown up with two, I have some measure of understanding when coders get irrationally excited about processes and flowcharts. And with Detroit: Become Human, I've found a flowchart of my own that I can happily geek over.