The Women Who Kill Are the Ones That Saved Me

I can think back clearly to my teenage years, gazing at my body and wondering what things would be like if I were a little curvier. Maybe if I had a fuller chest I'd be able to wear more than just baggy tees, cargo shorts, and sweatpants. Maybe if I had longer hair with a different texture I'd be able to style it more, grow it out. Maybe, just maybe, if I could play around with my proportions I’d find more comfort in this body instead of bouncing back and forth between pride and discomfort. I'm the only son, which means that I bear the sole responsibility of existing without straying from the path carved for me as to not disturb the people around me, who I fear would have a volatile reaction if I voiced my desire to transition. I perform young and masculine, letting my daydreams of what womanhood could be falter as I stare at my shoulders that are sometimes a little too broad, the fat that isn't in the right parts of my body, my face that looked like it would never fit on a body with more curves. So, of course, I must find ways to hit this balance, small ounces of femininity for me to perform without ridicule or long conversations with friends, family, and doctors. 

Thus, I've found comfort in dancing around as thin-framed killing machines with robust asses and tight waists.

In Stellar Blade, to be human is deceitful, to be a man is militant, and to be a woman is utilitarian. EVE—the playable character—and the majority of the cast are not in fact the humans they believe themselves to be, but androids created by an AI superintelligence named Mother Sphere that drove humanity to near extinction, and the survivors evolved into the monsters that EVE battles throughout. These monsters, dubbed Naytibas, are grotesquely masculine. Each one is an amalgamation of strong abdomens, jacked arms, phallic silhouettes, and veins popping out of rippling, sweaty musculature. Even the Mechanical Naytibas, ones that have fused with abandoned technology, move with a man’s gait, or have their shoulders spread broadly across before swinging their pole at you. 

The android men that exist on Stellar Blade's Earth will carve themselves apart with mechanical prosthetics, only to show off their massive arms and big, rotund guts. Gender is a performance for both the androids and the Naytibas, and to be a man means playing into a caricatural strength in a battle for survival. EVE exists in complete visual contrast to this. Everything about her is curated by Mother Sphere as a part of the EVE Protocol. Often, the NPCs will refer to EVE as “Angel,” in line with the biblical inspiration that the game utilizes for its major theming. Her arrival on Earth to help them is unusual for them, drawing initial skepticism. Where most of the androids on Earth don’t even have faces, hers is permanently clean with a sharp jawline, soft, pink lips, a thin nose, and brown doe eyes. Her body is built like a supermodel's, and she walks with confidence and sensuality as she carves her way through each Naytiba. Her beauty is otherworldly, and the other women in Stellar Blade cover a part of their body to highlight their assumed imperfections that EVE lacks in design. There’s no need for EVE or any other angel to undergo a similar kind of mechanical operation, they’re all built to be perfect.

When everything is laid out plainly and visually, there’s little room for characters to wonder if their memory sticks were placed into the right body frame. With everyone being an android, they are curated at the hands of Mother Sphere, and with that, any chance of dysphoria is eliminated entirely. Rather, gender is worn entirely inside and out in appearance and mannerisms, and sex isn’t even a concept that gets brought up in any capacity. 

Between unnecessary jiggle physics and a handful of skimpy costumes, the sexualization of EVE is superfluous and tonally inconsistent with the experience the game offers. Characters almost never mention EVE’s appearance, as they’re simply shocked to see an Angel on Earth. Unlocking any of her cosmetics, outside of hair and earrings, is never touched on from a narrative standpoint. The only time EVE’s outward appearance gets brought up is in the very last hour of the game, when she takes on a new form, and still it has nothing to do with how much cleavage she’s showing. However, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t fun playing dress up with my battle doll as I lived vicariously through her. There is nothing that feels better than saving the world and looking good while doing it. 

In the opening hours of the game, an android named Adam swoops in to save EVE while she’s on the brink of death. In the final area of the game, Adam reveals that he is the first Naytiba from long before the events of the game and was able to maintain a human form because he didn’t succumb to his violent urges. One of the game’s endings (and the only one I aimed for) sees EVE fusing with Adam to create a new kind of human that will inhabit the Earth. Religious references aside, Adam and EVE foil each other both visually and narratively. Where EVE runs around in skintight armor, Adam dons a large, black cloak covering everything from the neck down. Post-fusion there are small mannerisms in EVE that change—while she’s still the exterior vessel, Adam’s influence has made her a bit more stoic and less emotive in her movements, her armor has changed to fully wrap her in an angelic costume adorned with white and gold.

When I see EVE, I’m wrought with gender envy, and when she takes her new form, I wish for that feeling of fullness. Existing in her body frame will always be a drop of euphoria for me as a steppingstone to figure out what exactly I am.

Prior to my bouts in Stellar Blade, I spent some time playing Brush Burial: Gutter World. Like Stellar Blade, the game sees you navigating a world in ruin, except the destruction here comes from a corrupt regime that’s forced its people into poverty, while a militant security operates even the most basic of facilities. Gutter World is a taxing experience packed with gameplay that forces the player to think on their feet, do insane acrobatics, engage in delicate stealth, and die trying again and again. Also, Fennel, the playable character, is so fucking hot.

She is the epitome of what I wish I could be. An androgynous, femme-leaning killing machine with a fat ass and a tight waist. I can’t look at her without feeling a concoction of wild lust and furious jealousy. I love the way her eight eyes stare down at me and tell me to beg. I love the forked tail she strikes with, the way she folds her enemies and twists them like dolls, the suffocating thighs and calves she clamps down on brutish guards with. And all of it, she does to help her and her partner breathe a little easier while they try to make it through life in this rotting world. 

Gutter World’s conversation on gender identity is much briefer and less contemplative than Stellar Blade’s. Its story is much more focused on life in a liminal hellscape, trying to make ends meet in a world that constantly rejects you. I think this commentary on the gig economy works exceptionally well with the level design, three smaller maps and shorter objectives and one large, expansive area with all kinds of doors to unlock and secrets to explore. It’s through this that the game paints not only how fleeting these jobs can come and go, no matter how much preliminary work is invested in it to start, but also how the goalpost continually moves farther and farther away for what’s livable.  

It’s in Fennel that I experience a unique kind of kinship. Here is a character that feels entirely out of place, trying to survive in a world that forces you to think on your feet and adapt to whatever life throws at you. She comes home every day to a partner living what appears to be an average, calm life, often reading or overlooking the training ground beneath their apartment building. While I can’t say my challenges come from armed guards trying to stop me from taking a piss unless I have the right badge to prove I’m with the in-group, I do struggle with the daily woes of making ends meet and trying to survive as the world around me seems to fall apart at the seams. Fennel is effectively the kind of queer representation I never knew I wanted, and it’s because of that that I’ve used it as a reference point for queer character depictions in games. It’s both strange and welcoming that the grunge vibes of Gutter World embrace me with open arms and put a mirror to my face.  

With all of this said, I want to be clear that I don’t dislike who I am now. I’ve seen the social advantages gained thanks to my role as the only son in a family full of sisters. I’ve seen the way my performed gender influences conversation, and there are aspects of it that I’m thankful for. I enjoy masculine performance, I like being the only uncle, the only brother, being a boyfriend. There are days where I really enjoy my body and its shapes but still wish that I could just do both. If I can't do that in reality, I can at least use these characters as vessels to express a part of myself that I feel simultaneously disconnected with and extremely close to. For every wish that I was more feminine, another pops into my brain just days later of wanting those bigger arms, or toned abs, or some other feature that we’ve decided rests on the masculine side of the scale. If I could do both, I would in a heartbeat, and it’s in this mutual desire that I find my dysphoria manageable. 

Dysphoria isn't static, nor is it consistent from person to person. There have been days where I've felt quite literally nothing, and others where I can’t look at an attractive woman and my first thought isn’t “I wish I was her.” I don’t even hate the masculine bits of me, but god, do I wish I could feel what it’s like to be that woman, at least for a minute. And these girls have allowed me that luxury as I aim to understand what it is that I am.

Artemis here. Stop Caring is reader supported and 100% free. Please consider subscribing or making a one-time donation to make more of this possible. All donations go directly to the author of the piece.

And now, for some housekeeping: Alasdair Padman, I owe you a snack review. I'm not big on waffles, but the Brioche Style Liege Waffles from Trader Joe's were absolutely smacking. Crunchy on the outside, super soft on the inside, perfect with some pure maple syrup on top.

Oh? What's this? A new patron has entered the ring: Evelyn Kennedy, thank you for the Fry's Turkish Delight! I will admit, I am not a big fan of this type of candy, and this one did not change my mind, but I did like the play of textures, what with that gooey-ish interior. It just felt very "empalagoso", a Spanish word which translates to "overly-sweet" but is meant to evoke something quite thick getting stuck in your throat.

I also wanna give a huge, super special shoutout to two more new patrons. Marc Normandin and Nathan Urwin: thank you so much for the meal! We shall feast in your names, and we will all have seconds after everyone's been served.