Deus Ex hero Adam Jensen is a closed book. You never really know what's going on in that cyborg brain of his. But by studying his apartment in Human Revolution and now Mankind Divided, you get a glimpse of what lies beneath his moody exterior. His new place isn't as big or opulent as his old Detroit apartment, but it still gives us some valuable insight into his daily life and personality: arguably more than his dialogue ever does. I spent some time carefully exploring his new Prague digs, and here's what I discovered.
It's clear Jensen hasn't skimped on his bed. It may have come with the place, but I don't think so. That style is so him. Black, antique styling, but with a modern edge. His elasticated under-sheet has come loose at one corner revealing a very plump, comfortable-looking mattress. Probably memory foam, or some futuristic equivalent. A definite highlight of the apartment.
On one table there's a copy of a National Geographic-style magazine called Xplore. The cover story is about the real-life HAARP research program, which was a target of conspiracy theorists before it was shut down in 2015. Is this an old magazine, or has the program been revived in Deus Ex's future?
On the other there's some assorted mail, a stylish cyberpunk candelabrum that some of you may remember from his old apartment, and a copy of a self-help book about learning how to let it go. Jensen is clearly still haunted by the events of the previous game two years earlier, and is trying to deal with it.
This bin is filled entirely with paper, suggesting Jensen is a keen recycler. Among the debris is a note from an M. Durocher requesting all perishable food items be removed from a mysterious fridge before 5pm. It's the kind of thing you find in a shared office kitchen, which makes me wonder why it's in Jensen's bin. There's also a TPP report, which could be a nod to Office Space.
The mess on Jensen's cluttered bedroom desk includes a PC that looks suspiciously like AMD's Project Quantum and a motherboard. Is he building his own gaming PC? He doesn't seem the type to play games, but I guess even cyborg super-agents need to relax sometimes.
The desk is also covered in broken watches, spare parts, and tools. He seems to be obsessed with dismantling and/or repairing old watches. It could just be a hobby, but is also probably some symbolic manifestation of his struggles with his own mechanical body. Eidos Montreal loves symbolism.
Jensen's futuristic toilet is clean and well-stocked with spare paper. Curiously, he's using a plunger as a paper holder. Or perhaps it's a holder designed to look like a plunger? We may never know. There's also a large stack of reading material including Cabled magazine—an obvious parody of Wired—and the latest issue of the Picus Daily Standard electronic newspaper.
There are plenty of cleaning products in Jensen's bathroom, including a few bottles of 'Ocean's Freshness' spray cleaner. Maybe he likes the smell. And if you've ever wondered how his hair always looks so good, the bottles of Hairgenius '50 in 1' shampoo/conditioner might be the secret.
There are some drugs too including VersaLife paracetamol and something called Strokioxx, which combats a skin condition called hyperpigmentation. Is this a side effect of his augmentations? And I'm impressed by his stack of clean, neatly folded towels. I bet they're made of Egyptian cotton.
Perched on Jensen's elegant, modern sink, which offers a pleasant view of Prague's tiled rooftops, is a bottle of Skin Shield hand lotion. Now, maybe I'm reading too much into this, but why does a man with metal hands need hand lotion? Maybe it's for guests. Or another part of his body.
In the hall there are a few postcards from Detroit pinned up on a wooden beam. 'How are you doing?' one reads. 'I wish you were here'. All of them seem to be signed by the same person, although I can't quite make out the name. It seems Jensen is somewhat sentimental about his past in America.
Some notes and papers are stuck up above Jensen's desk, a few of which are written in Czech. One reads 'koupit vice papírové', which means 'buy more paper' according to Google Translate. Another reminds Jensen to bring credits somewhere at 7:45am. Not many revelations here.
Jensen's stylish kitchen gives us an insight into his diet. He has a bowl filled with fresh-looking oranges, a coffee machine, a can of Dai-Taga premium beer, and a bag of burger buns. There's also a baseball signed by some unknown player, and a bat nearby, so Jensen is clearly a fan of the sport.
On the island there's another bowl of oranges. Maybe augmentations deprive you of vitamin C? And there's a Czech cookery book too. Jensen doesn't seem like much of a cook, so I think this is a housewarming gift from someone. And, interestingly, there's a second copy of the 'learning to let go' book.
TV screens are pretty big in the future, it seems. This massive holographic display endlessly cycles adverts and Picus news bulletins, although Jensen can also use it to make video calls. He must watch a lot of TV when he's off duty, otherwise why would he have such an enormous screen?
There's a lot to take in here. A bowl and spoon confirms Jensen's love of cereal, including a box with a cheery gnome on the front described as 'suspiciously delicious'. Hmmm. There's also what appears to be a movie script, titled Nuclear Snake, written by Frank Pritchard—the obnoxious, pony-tailed Sarif Industries tech expert you might remember from Human Revolution.
There's also a photo of Kubrick, the dog he used to own with ex-girlfriend Megan Reed. The pooch was put down when Jensen and Reed were believed to have died, and it's clear he still misses him. Lastly, a pair of books on learning Czech shows he's attempting to learn the local language.
Jensen is an avid reader, if the piles of books in his apartment are anything to go by. Or maybe he's just one of those people who buys and never reads them. His collection includes 'Super Electro Magnetic Fields, 'The Miracle of Life', 'The Science Behind Augmentation', 'Life and Regrets', 'Orpheus Slain', 'A Detailed History of Cybernetics', and 'The Art of Gratuitous Violence'.
Either Jensen is big into star-gazing or he's been using this to spy on the neighbours. It's a fairly high-tech piece of kit and looks expensive, so he takes whichever one it is pretty seriously. I can definitely imagine Jensen spending his evenings gazing moodily at the stars and pondering life.
Jensen's Detroit apartment was a much more impressive space, with high ceilings and more square inches to brood in. But his Prague home has its own distinctive charms, and the stylish, tasteful modern furnishings throughout indicate Jensen is clearly an aesthete at heart.
The postcards from Detroit and photo of his deceased dog suggest he has some sentimentality under his hard exterior, and it seems there's nothing he likes more than repairing old watches and eating cereal. I feel like I learned more about him exploring his apartment than finishing the game.