關於 travel magazines free ，我們在網路上蒐集到這些相關的討論、資訊與評價

A perfect song for the New Year.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of '97.
Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it.
The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience...
I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded.
But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked...
You're not as fat as you Imagine.

Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind.
The kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy;
Sometimes you're ahead,
Sometimes You're behind.
The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults;
If you Succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your
Life.
The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't, maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't, maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.
Whatever you do, don't Congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either.
Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's.
Enjoy your body, Use it every way you can... Don't be afraid of it, or what other people Think of it,
It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own...

Dance... even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Brother and sister together we'll make it through
Someday your spirit will take you and guide you there
I know you've been hurting, but I've been waiting to be there
For you.
And I'll be there, just tell me now, whenever I can.
Everybody's free.

Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings;
They are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard;
Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will Philander, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you.
Maybe you have a trust fund, Maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen...

(Brother and sister together we'll make it through
Someday your spirit will take you and guide you there
I know you've been hurting, but I've been waiting to be there
For you. And I'll be there, just tell me now, whenever I can.
Everybody's free.)

Nobody’s Fool　　( January 2011 )

Yoshitomo Nara

Do people look to my childhood for sources of my imagery? Back then, the snow-covered fields of the north were about as far away as you could get from the rapid economic growth happening elsewhere. Both my parents worked and my brothers were much older, so the only one home to greet me when I got back from elementary school was a stray cat we’d taken in. Even so, this was the center of my world. In my lonely room, I would twist the radio dial to the American military base station and out blasted rock and roll music. One of history’s first man-made satellites revolved around me up in the night sky. There I was, in touch with the stars and radio waves.

It doesn’t take much imagination to envision how a lonely childhood in such surroundings might give rise to the sensibility in my work. In fact, I also used to believe in this connection. I would close my eyes and conjure childhood scenes, letting my imagination amplify them like the music coming from my speakers.

But now, past the age of fifty and more cool-headed, I’ve begun to wonder how big a role childhood plays in making us who we are as adults. Looking through reproductions of the countless works I’ve made between my late twenties and now, I get the feeling that childhood experiences were merely a catalyst. My art derives less from the self-centered instincts of childhood than from the day-to-day sensory experiences of an adult who has left this realm behind. And, ultimately, taking the big steps pales in importance to the daily need to keep on walking.

While I was in high school, before I had anything to do with art, I worked part-time in a rock café. There I became friends with a graduate student of mathematics who one day started telling me, in layman’s terms, about his major in topology. His explanation made the subject seem less like a branch of mathematics than some fascinating organic philosophy. My understanding is that topology offers you a way to discover the underlying sameness of countless, seemingly disparate, forms. Conversely, it explains why many people, when confronted with apparently identical things, will accept a fake as the genuine article. I later went on to study art, live in Germany, and travel around the world, and the broader perspective I’ve gained has shown me that topology has long been a subtext of my thinking. The more we add complexity, the more we obscure what is truly valuable. Perhaps the reason I began, in the mid-90s, trying to make paintings as simple as possible stems from that introduction to topology gained in my youth.

As a kid listening to U.S. armed-forces radio, I had no idea what the lyrics meant, but I loved the melody and rhythm of the music. In junior high school, my friends and I were already discussing rock and roll like credible music critics, and by the time I started high school, I was hanging out in rock coffee shops and going to live shows. We may have been a small group of social outcasts, but the older kids, who smoked cigarettes and drank, talked to us all night long about movies they’d seen or books they’d read. If the nighttime student quarter had been the school, I’m sure I would have been a straight-A student.

In the 80s, I left my hometown to attend art school, where I was anything but an honors student. There, a model student was one who brought a researcher’s focus to the work at hand. Your bookshelves were stacked with catalogues and reference materials. When you weren’t working away in your studio, you were meeting with like-minded classmates to discuss art past and present, including your own. You were hoping to set new trends in motion. Wholly lacking any grand ambition, I fell well short of this model, with most of my paintings done to satisfy class assignments. I was, however, filling every one of my notebooks, sketchbooks, and scraps of wrapping paper with crazy, graffiti-like drawings.

Looking back on my younger days—Where did where all that sparkling energy go? I used the money from part-time jobs to buy record albums instead of art supplies and catalogues. I went to movies and concerts, hung out with my girlfriend, did funky drawings on paper, and made midnight raids on friends whose boarding-room lights still happened to be on. I spent the passions of my student days outside the school studio. This is not to say I wasn’t envious of the kids who earned the teachers’ praise or who debuted their talents in early exhibitions. Maybe envy is the wrong word. I guess I had the feeling that we were living in separate worlds. Like puffs of cigarette smoke or the rock songs from my speaker, my adolescent energies all vanished in the sky.

Being outside the city and surrounded by rice fields, my art school had no art scene to speak of—I imagined the art world existing in some unknown dimension, like that of TV or the movies. At the time, art could only be discussed in a Western context, and, therefore, seemed unreal. But just as every country kid dreams of life in the big city, this shaky art-school student had visions of the dazzling, far-off realm of contemporary art. Along with this yearning was an equally strong belief that I didn’t deserve admittance to such a world. A typical provincial underachiever!

I did, however, love to draw every day and the scrawled sketches, never shown to anybody, started piling up. Like journal entries reflecting the events of each day, they sometimes intersected memories from the past. My little everyday world became a trigger for the imagination, and I learned to develop and capture the imagery that arose. I was, however, still a long way off from being able to translate those countless images from paper to canvas.

Visions come to us through daydreams and fantasies. Our emotional reaction towards these images makes them real. Listening to my record collection gave me a similar experience. Before the Internet, the precious little information that did exist was to be found in the two or three music magazines available. Most of my records were imported—no liner notes or lyric sheets in Japanese. No matter how much I liked the music, living in a non-English speaking world sadly meant limited access to the meaning of the lyrics. The music came from a land of societal, religious, and subcultural sensibilities apart from my own, where people moved their bodies to it in a different rhythm. But that didn’t stop me from loving it. I never got tired of poring over every inch of the record jackets on my 12-inch vinyl LPs. I took the sounds and verses into my body. Amidst today’s superabundance of information, choosing music is about how best to single out the right album. For me, it was about making the most use of scant information to sharpen my sensibilities, imagination, and conviction. It might be one verse, melody, guitar riff, rhythmic drum beat or bass line, or record jacket that would inspire me and conjure up fresh imagery. Then, with pencil in hand, I would draw these images on paper, one after the other. Beyond good or bad, the pictures had a will of their own, inhabiting the torn pages with freedom and friendliness.

By the time I graduated from university, my painting began to approach the independence of my drawing. As a means for me to represent a world that was mine and mine alone, the paintings may not have been as nimble as the drawings, but I did them without any preliminary sketching. Prizing feelings that arose as I worked, I just kept painting and over-painting until I gained a certain freedom and the sense, though vague at the time, that I had established a singular way of putting images onto canvas. Yet, I hadn’t reached the point where I could declare that I would paint for the rest of my life.

After receiving my undergraduate degree, I entered the graduate school of my university and got a part-time job teaching at an art yobiko—a prep school for students seeking entrance to an art college. As an instructor, training students how to look at and compose things artistically, meant that I also had to learn how to verbalize my thoughts and feelings. This significant growth experience not only allowed me to take stock of my life at the time, but also provided a refreshing opportunity to connect with teenage hearts and minds.

And idealism! Talking to groups of art students, I naturally found myself describing the ideals of an artist. A painful experience for me—I still had no sense of myself as an artist. The more the students showed their affection for me, the more I felt like a failed artist masquerading as a sensei (teacher). After completing my graduate studies, I kept working as a yobiko instructor. And in telling students about the path to becoming an artist, I began to realize that I was still a student myself, with many things yet to learn. I felt that I needed to become a true art student. I decided to study in Germany. The day I left the city where I had long lived, many of my students appeared on the platform to see me off.

Life as a student in Germany was a happy time. I originally intended to go to London, but for economic reasons chose a tuition-free, and, fortunately, academism-free German school. Personal approaches coexisted with conceptual ones, and students tried out a wide range of modes of expression. Technically speaking, we were all students, but each of us brought a creator’s spirit to the fore. The strong wills and opinions of the local students, though, were well in place before they became artists thanks to the German system of early education. As a reticent foreign student from a far-off land, I must have seemed like a mute child. I decided that I would try to make myself understood not through words, but through having people look at my pictures. When winter came and leaden clouds filled the skies, I found myself slipping back to the winters of my childhood. Forgoing attempts to speak in an unknown language, I redoubled my efforts to express myself through visions of my private world. Thinking rather than talking, then illustrating this thought process in drawings and, finally, realizing it in a painting. Instead of defeating you in an argument, I wanted to invite you inside me. Here I was, in a most unexpected place, rediscovering a value that I thought I had lost—I felt that I had finally gained the ability to learn and think, that I had become a student in the truest sense of the word.

But I still wasn’t your typical honors student. My paintings clearly didn’t look like contemporary art, and nobody would say my images fit in the context of European painting. They did, however, catch the gaze of dealers who, with their antennae out for young artists, saw my paintings as new objects that belonged less to the singular world of art and more to the realm of everyday life. Several were impressed by the freshness of my art, and before I knew it, I was invited to hold exhibitions in established galleries—a big step into a wider world.

The six years that I spent in Germany after completing my studies and before returning to Japan were golden days, both for me and my work. Every day and every night, I worked tirelessly to fix onto canvas all the visions that welled up in my head. My living space/studio was in a dreary, concrete former factory building on the outskirts of Cologne. It was the center of my world. Late at night, my surroundings were enveloped in darkness, but my studio was brightly lit. The songs of folk poets flowed out of my speakers. In that place, standing in front of the canvas sometimes felt like traveling on a solitary voyage in outer space—a lonely little spacecraft floating in the darkness of the void. My spaceship could go anywhere in this fantasy while I was painting, even to the edge of the universe.

Suddenly one day, I was flung outside—my spaceship was to be scrapped. My little vehicle turned back into an old concrete building, one that was slated for destruction because it was falling apart. Having lost the spaceship that had accompanied me on my lonely travels, and lacking the energy to look for a new studio, I immediately decided that I might as well go back to my homeland. It was painful and sad to leave the country where I had lived for twelve years and the handful of people I could call friends. But I had lost my ship. The only place I thought to land was my mother country, where long ago those teenagers had waved me goodbye and, in retrospect, whose letters to me while I was in Germany were a valuable source of fuel.

After my long space flight, I returned to Japan with the strange sense of having made a full orbit around the planet. The new studio was a little warehouse on the outskirts of Tokyo, in an area dotted with rice fields and small factories. When the wind blew, swirls of dust slipped in through the cracks, and water leaked down the walls in heavy rains. In my dilapidated warehouse, only one sheet of corrugated metal separated me from the summer heat and winter cold. Despite the funky environment, I was somehow able to keep in midnight contact with the cosmos—the beings I had drawn and painted in Germany began to mature. The emotional quality of the earlier work gave way to a new sense of composure. I worked at refining the former impulsiveness of the drawings and the monochromatic, almost reverent, backgrounds of the paintings. In my pursuit of fresh imagery, I switched from idle experimentation to a more workmanlike approach towards capturing what I saw beyond the canvas.

Children and animals—what simple motifs! Appearing on neat canvases or in ephemeral drawings, these figures are easy on the viewers’ eyes. Occasionally, they shake off my intentions and leap to the feet of their audience, never to return. Because my motifs are accessible, they are often only understood on a superficial level. Sometimes art that results from a long process of development receives only shallow general acceptance, and those who should be interpreting it fail to do so, either through a lack of knowledge or insufficient powers of expression. Take, for example, the music of a specific era. People who lived during this era will naturally appreciate the music that was then popular. Few of these listeners, however, will know, let alone value, the music produced by minor labels, by introspective musicians working under the radar, because it’s music that’s made in answer to an individual’s desire, not the desires of the times. In this way, people who say that “Nara loves rock,” or “Nara loves punk” should see my album collection. Of four thousand records there are probably fewer than fifty punk albums. I do have a lot of 60s and 70s rock and roll, but most of my music is from little labels that never saw commercial success—traditional roots music by black musicians and white musicians, and contemplative folk. The spirit of any era gives birth to trends and fashions as well as their opposite: countless introspective individual worlds. A simultaneous embrace of both has cultivated my sensibility and way of thinking. My artwork is merely the tip of the iceberg that is my self. But if you analyzed the DNA from this tip, you would probably discover a new way of looking at my art. My viewers become a true audience when they take what I’ve made and make it their own. That’s the moment the works gain their freedom, even from their maker.

After contemplative folk singers taught me about deep empathy, the punk rockers schooled me in explosive expression.

I was born on this star, and I’m still breathing. Since childhood, I’ve been a jumble of things learned and experienced and memories that can’t be forgotten. Their involuntary locomotion is my inspiration. I don’t express in words the contents of my work. I’ll only tell you my history. The countless stories living inside my work would become mere fabrications the moment I put them into words. Instead, I use my pencil to turn them into pictures. Standing before the dark abyss, here’s hoping my spaceship launches safely tonight….

Thank you for watching this video.
Please subscribe to my channel.

Learn Japanese with Detroit: Become Human
#1 https://youtu.be/sjfC44lwiow
#2 https://youtu.be/5g4ox7Y-GM0
#3 https://youtu.be/o3rhlp5X6WY
#4 https://youtu.be/as2HYFm-ZP4
#5 https://youtu.be/swWGkVz0Myo

【PLAYLIST】
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...


Detroit: Become Human is the latest interactive narrative game from Quantic Dream, makers of Heavy Rain and Beyond: Two Souls.

Detroit: Become Human is an adventure game played from a third-person view,
which is subject to a set and controllable perspective.
There are multiple playable characters who can die as the story continues without them
as a result, there is no "game over" message following a character's death.
The right analogue stick on the DualShock controller is used to interact with objects and observe one's surroundings, the left is for movement, and R2 scans an environment for possible actions; the motion controls and touchpad are also employed. Via quick time events and dialogue decisions,
the story will branch out depending on which choices are made.
These can be viewed in a flowchart during and immediately after a given chapter;[16] the player can rewind to certain points in the story to reshape decisions in the event of regret.
Certain scenes feature countdowns, which force the player to think and act quickly.
Levels abound with magazines for players to read.

The playable characters are:
* Connor, a police investigator android tasked with hunting down androids that have deviated from their programmed behaviours.
*
* Kara, a housekeeper android who develops artificial consciousness and becomes responsible for a young girl's safety.
*
* Markus, a caretaker android who, after gaining consciousness, takes it upon himself to free others like him from bondage.
*
Obtaining clues by highlighting and analysing the environment with augmented vision allows Connor to reconstruct and replay events that occurred before.
The more information Connor collects within an allotted time,
the greater the chance of success in deciding a course of action.
Markus has the power to grant androids free will and calculate the outcomes of certain acts.

Caretaker android Markus and his owner return home and alert the police of a suspected burglary. In confronting the perpetrator, Markus bypasses his programming, thereby becoming a deviant android with full autonomy, leading the police to shoot him at arrival.
Markus awakes in a landfill of broken androids and, after escaping, discovers Jericho,
a wrecked ship and safe haven for deviants. There, Markus rallies the others to fight for their rights.
They perform several acts of civil disobedience, which catches the public's attention and gets more androids to join.
This culminates with the FBI attacking Jericho.
If he survives, Markus and the others set up a final march, resulting in either all of the deviants being killed or the president opening peace talks.
Police investigator android Connor is sent by the CyberLife corporation to assist Lieutenant Hank Anderson, an alcoholic who hates androids.
In the course of their investigation into an outbreak of deviants,
they either bond or fall apart,
potentially resulting in Hank committing suicide.
During his hunt for Markus' group, Connor starts to doubt himself, though he can stay firm in his beliefs.
He eventually locates Jericho,
where he can become a deviant himself.
If he defects, Connor infiltrates CyberLife Tower and converts everyone there into deviants. If not, he attempts to snipe Markus during the final protest, but is stopped by a SWAT team or Hank. In the end, if peace is achieved, Connor can choose whether or not to shoot Markus during a speech.
Kara, a housekeeper android for Todd Williams and his daughter Alice,escapes with her after he attacks them and leaves Kara a deviant.
The two travel across Detroit, intending to make it to Canada, which has no specific laws involving androids and where they will be safe. Kara and Alice befriend another android named Luther along the way, who joins them on their journey.
They seek the aid of an android sympathiser, who points them to Jericho to obtain passports.
They get caught up in the attack there, which may result in Luther, Kara, and Alice's deaths. Kara also learns that Alice is in fact an android, replacing the daughter taken away by Todd's wife.
They can make it to Canada by bus or boat, survive a recycling centre, or in either case die trying.

Thank you for watching this video.
Please subscribe to my channel.

Learn Japanese with Detroit: Become Human
#1 https://youtu.be/sjfC44lwiow
#2 https://youtu.be/5g4ox7Y-GM0
#3 https://youtu.be/o3rhlp5X6WY
#4 https://youtu.be/as2HYFm-ZP4
#5 https://youtu.be/swWGkVz0Myo

【PLAYLIST】
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...


Detroit: Become Human is the latest interactive narrative game from Quantic Dream, makers of Heavy Rain and Beyond: Two Souls.

Detroit: Become Human is an adventure game played from a third-person view,
which is subject to a set and controllable perspective.
There are multiple playable characters who can die as the story continues without them
as a result, there is no "game over" message following a character's death.
The right analogue stick on the DualShock controller is used to interact with objects and observe one's surroundings, the left is for movement, and R2 scans an environment for possible actions; the motion controls and touchpad are also employed. Via quick time events and dialogue decisions,
the story will branch out depending on which choices are made.
These can be viewed in a flowchart during and immediately after a given chapter;[16] the player can rewind to certain points in the story to reshape decisions in the event of regret.
Certain scenes feature countdowns, which force the player to think and act quickly.
Levels abound with magazines for players to read.

The playable characters are:
* Connor, a police investigator android tasked with hunting down androids that have deviated from their programmed behaviours.
*
* Kara, a housekeeper android who develops artificial consciousness and becomes responsible for a young girl's safety.
*
* Markus, a caretaker android who, after gaining consciousness, takes it upon himself to free others like him from bondage.
*
Obtaining clues by highlighting and analysing the environment with augmented vision allows Connor to reconstruct and replay events that occurred before.
The more information Connor collects within an allotted time,
the greater the chance of success in deciding a course of action.
Markus has the power to grant androids free will and calculate the outcomes of certain acts.

Caretaker android Markus and his owner return home and alert the police of a suspected burglary. In confronting the perpetrator, Markus bypasses his programming, thereby becoming a deviant android with full autonomy, leading the police to shoot him at arrival.
Markus awakes in a landfill of broken androids and, after escaping, discovers Jericho,
a wrecked ship and safe haven for deviants. There, Markus rallies the others to fight for their rights.
They perform several acts of civil disobedience, which catches the public's attention and gets more androids to join.
This culminates with the FBI attacking Jericho.
If he survives, Markus and the others set up a final march, resulting in either all of the deviants being killed or the president opening peace talks.
Police investigator android Connor is sent by the CyberLife corporation to assist Lieutenant Hank Anderson, an alcoholic who hates androids.
In the course of their investigation into an outbreak of deviants,
they either bond or fall apart,
potentially resulting in Hank committing suicide.
During his hunt for Markus' group, Connor starts to doubt himself, though he can stay firm in his beliefs.
He eventually locates Jericho,
where he can become a deviant himself.
If he defects, Connor infiltrates CyberLife Tower and converts everyone there into deviants. If not, he attempts to snipe Markus during the final protest, but is stopped by a SWAT team or Hank. In the end, if peace is achieved, Connor can choose whether or not to shoot Markus during a speech.
Kara, a housekeeper android for Todd Williams and his daughter Alice,escapes with her after he attacks them and leaves Kara a deviant.
The two travel across Detroit, intending to make it to Canada, which has no specific laws involving androids and where they will be safe. Kara and Alice befriend another android named Luther along the way, who joins them on their journey.
They seek the aid of an android sympathiser, who points them to Jericho to obtain passports.
They get caught up in the attack there, which may result in Luther, Kara, and Alice's deaths. Kara also learns that Alice is in fact an android, replacing the daughter taken away by Todd's wife.
They can make it to Canada by bus or boat, survive a recycling centre, or in either case die trying.

Thank you for watching this video.
Please subscribe to my channel.

Learn Japanese with Detroit: Become Human
#1 https://youtu.be/sjfC44lwiow
#2 https://youtu.be/5g4ox7Y-GM0
#3 https://youtu.be/o3rhlp5X6WY
#4 https://youtu.be/as2HYFm-ZP4
#5 https://youtu.be/swWGkVz0Myo

【PLAYLIST】
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...


Detroit: Become Human is the latest interactive narrative game from Quantic Dream, makers of Heavy Rain and Beyond: Two Souls.

Detroit: Become Human is an adventure game played from a third-person view,
which is subject to a set and controllable perspective.
There are multiple playable characters who can die as the story continues without them
as a result, there is no "game over" message following a character's death.
The right analogue stick on the DualShock controller is used to interact with objects and observe one's surroundings, the left is for movement, and R2 scans an environment for possible actions; the motion controls and touchpad are also employed. Via quick time events and dialogue decisions,
the story will branch out depending on which choices are made.
These can be viewed in a flowchart during and immediately after a given chapter;[16] the player can rewind to certain points in the story to reshape decisions in the event of regret.
Certain scenes feature countdowns, which force the player to think and act quickly.
Levels abound with magazines for players to read.

The playable characters are:
* Connor, a police investigator android tasked with hunting down androids that have deviated from their programmed behaviours.
*
* Kara, a housekeeper android who develops artificial consciousness and becomes responsible for a young girl's safety.
*
* Markus, a caretaker android who, after gaining consciousness, takes it upon himself to free others like him from bondage.
*
Obtaining clues by highlighting and analysing the environment with augmented vision allows Connor to reconstruct and replay events that occurred before.
The more information Connor collects within an allotted time,
the greater the chance of success in deciding a course of action.
Markus has the power to grant androids free will and calculate the outcomes of certain acts.

Caretaker android Markus and his owner return home and alert the police of a suspected burglary. In confronting the perpetrator, Markus bypasses his programming, thereby becoming a deviant android with full autonomy, leading the police to shoot him at arrival.
Markus awakes in a landfill of broken androids and, after escaping, discovers Jericho,
a wrecked ship and safe haven for deviants. There, Markus rallies the others to fight for their rights.
They perform several acts of civil disobedience, which catches the public's attention and gets more androids to join.
This culminates with the FBI attacking Jericho.
If he survives, Markus and the others set up a final march, resulting in either all of the deviants being killed or the president opening peace talks.
Police investigator android Connor is sent by the CyberLife corporation to assist Lieutenant Hank Anderson, an alcoholic who hates androids.
In the course of their investigation into an outbreak of deviants,
they either bond or fall apart,
potentially resulting in Hank committing suicide.
During his hunt for Markus' group, Connor starts to doubt himself, though he can stay firm in his beliefs.
He eventually locates Jericho,
where he can become a deviant himself.
If he defects, Connor infiltrates CyberLife Tower and converts everyone there into deviants. If not, he attempts to snipe Markus during the final protest, but is stopped by a SWAT team or Hank. In the end, if peace is achieved, Connor can choose whether or not to shoot Markus during a speech.
Kara, a housekeeper android for Todd Williams and his daughter Alice,escapes with her after he attacks them and leaves Kara a deviant.
The two travel across Detroit, intending to make it to Canada, which has no specific laws involving androids and where they will be safe. Kara and Alice befriend another android named Luther along the way, who joins them on their journey.
They seek the aid of an android sympathiser, who points them to Jericho to obtain passports.
They get caught up in the attack there, which may result in Luther, Kara, and Alice's deaths. Kara also learns that Alice is in fact an android, replacing the daughter taken away by Todd's wife.
They can make it to Canada by bus or boat, survive a recycling centre, or in either case die trying.