Bo Ruberg: We Know The Devil is, as you say, about women who love other women, yet you've written online about being "against [LGBTQ] representation" in video games. What does that mean and how do you reconcile those approaches? Aevee Bee: That article was a little manifesto. When I say that I'm "against representation," I mean that representation can't just be a list of identity categories. It's not really representation unless you're creating complexity; without complexity, characters feel insincere and incomplete. The dumbed-down version of a queer person, or the queer person that never expresses their sexuality--these characters don't actually require you to empathize with queer people, because these characters have no sexuality. When you erase that, you erase their anchor, their passion, their frustrations, or their flaws even, especially their flaws. You're not doing empathy work if you're not engaging with these things, because these are the stumbling blocks for empathy. Sometimes people are like, "I like gay people who don't act gay." You know? Those are the people you're catering to when you make those sorts of characters. Identity is so important to talk about, yet it can be so limiting. I've been having a lot of discussions with queer activists and queer scholars about this desire to all call ourselves "queer," like we're this amorphous blob. That can actually be incredibly unhelpful because it doesn't acknowledge the very real differences that often exist between queer people. Our experiences are specific to our lives. Focusing only on identity, especially identity without experience, reduces everyone to an abstraction. Ruberg: Given how much you value the specifics of individual queer experience, how would you describe the complexities, as you call them, of your own queer identity? Bee: Being a woman is really important to me. Transness is also really important to me. In terms of sexuality, I tend to talk about how sexuality is practiced and understood rather than talking about specific attractions. What's the point of trying to say, "Oh, I have this very specific sexual identity" when sexuality is really hard to separate from gender identity and expression? Sexuality is more complicated than we often give it credit for. For example, I'm less interested in saying "I identify as bisexual," than I am in thinking about the ways that I love women and the ways that I love men and how those are unfortunately incredibly different because of all these social pressures, my own histories, and my internalized baggage. How do we navigate that together with another person? What does a relationship with someone like me look like? it's one thing to be like, "We have this list of labels," but we have so few models for what those labels are supposed to look like.

• Creatures/monsters
• animals/pets
• humans
• some nsfw