It’s N7 Day once more, and alas, this time we’ll be meeting Garrus at the bar for it*.
Since BioWare was shut down, I’ve started and deleted so many posts, both here and on social media. I’ve talked about it a bit on my Twitch stream, and in various private spaces, but I’ve struggled to dig into my feelings in a public way for a number of reasons.
First, it feels selfish to make any of this about me. I know that isn’t what sharing my feelings does, necessarily, but it’s hard to argue that point with my emotions. And even saying this makes it feel like I’m centering myself, so, you know, just running in that brain hamster wheel like Shepard’s pet. Squeak!
Second, talking about how much their games meant to me when hundreds of people are now out of work? Well, see point the first. These are folks who gave their hearts to all of us, and the company that benefited from that has cut those hearts out and stomped on them. BioWare employees deserve better. I am trying to keep my eye on where they land and can’t wait to see what they come up with next. But skill and experience aren’t helping as much as they should in this economy, especially with the way the games industry is going. So meanwhile, any support we can offer to keep them afloat as they find new jobs? Let’s do it.
Third, there is just… so much I could say, I don’t know where to start. I feel like I need to write a stirring eulogy, a speech for the ages, and all I have is blood spatter fingerpaint.
Dragon Age and Mass Effect live in my head and my heart. They inspired me to write fanfic and original fiction, to think about my craft more deeply and level it up accordingly. I study them and take them apart and examine all their bits and pieces, their lore and codices, their character histories and worldbuilding. I think about the ways the branching choices play out and impact events and people. I contemplate the components of their setpieces, figuring out how and why they function so effectively. I repeat the dialogue in my mind and wonder how I can reproduce the ways it makes me laugh and cry and want to punch people. I wrote a whole essay on the epic conventions used in Mass Effect, sadly lost to website shutdown.
They’re not perfect, not remotely, but things don’t need to be perfect to resonate with us.
Replaying the Mass Effect games got me through the worst of the pandemic. I started streaming them on Twitch so I could hang out with far-away friends and strangers who have become friends. They became an integral component of what I call “mandatory fun time,” where I disconnect from work for a few hours a week instead of constantly hustling. We coined the term “paragonning” for taking random stuff we find on the ground in games, because we found it hilarious that my very paragon Shepard kept engaging in casual thievery. I started replaying the Dragon Age games to take my husband, who had not played them, on a guided tour of my canon versions, which has culminated in Veilguard, where we are now.
I’ve played through everything but Veilguard more than once—more than twice, in fact, some of the games mumble-many times, I hardly dare to admit. Thousands of hours of my life have been spent in joy and sorrow and frustration as I fought and triumphed and died and reloaded from the last save. I have my canon romances and my secondary favorites, the choices I’ll always make and the ones I’ll never touch***. Every time I go back to them, I find something new, something I missed, along with all the comfortable, familiar moments that still give me chills.
The Chilling Effect books literally would not exist without both these sets of games; I’ve described Chilling Effect specifically as Mass Effect starring purple Hawke, because of how a down-on-her-luck nobody with a saucy mouth has to step up and fight above her weight class*. Drafting the trilogy was a way for me to process my thoughts and feelings about the games, as much as anything else I kitchen-sank into them. Trick Weekes, who supported my writing well before the book was even random gases hoping to become a star, took the time out of their busy life to blurb Chilling Effect.
I genuinely cannot emphasize enough how big a deal all of this was to me, creatively and career-wise.
Dragon Age II in particular, while perhaps one of the least-enjoyed games by the player base as a whole, remains one of my favorite. Of all the tragic back stories of the various characters, Hawke’s hit me closest to home, as a child and grandchild of people who fled their home country to escape violence. The way she’s treated, even as she works her way up from a nobody to a city’s champion, reflected some of the experiences members of my family had, things they were told by the people in their new home. That sense of being an outsider who still works hard to help and protect the people around her? It hits even harder now, in these political times, than it did when it came out.
Even though I’m tearing up as I write all this, in some ways I’ve already mourned BioWare for years. Ever since Andromeda was released—and I really liked that game—the corporate crap surrounding the company made it feel like the end was inevitable. Like they were creating on borrowed time, and the hourglass sands were running out too fast. That we got the Veilguard we did instead of some multiplayer subscription-model monstrosity feels like a gift to me. I’m playing the game slowly because of how aware I am that once it’s over, that’s it.
As sad as I am that we won’t have more BioWare games, the ones we do have are such a wealth of pleasure that I can’t feel too cheated. They have enriched my life in immeasurable ways, and I am so grateful for that. Will I play through them all again? Almost assuredly. Will I make different choices? Not likely.
I could go on and on about my favorite characters and moments, the music, the level designs, but I’ve already perhaps effused enough for a single blog post. Or perhaps no amount of effusiveness could ever be enough; I am deeply, painfully capable of expounding on the topic for way longer than anyone wants me to. I once went off about Mass Effect for multiple hours in a bar at WorldCon whilst standing at a small table, after all.
So when I say I’ll meet you at the bar, well, I kind of already did. But we can always meet there again. Just like old times.
For those not in the know who still read this whole post, some footnotes and spoilers:
*At the end of Mass Effect 3, Garrus says, “Not sure if turian heaven is the same as yours, but if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there, meet me at the bar. I’m buying.”
**In Dragon Age II, you are given different dialogue options that are color coded, and the purple options are the charming/sarcastic ones.
***I will always headbutt the krogan who insults my perfect son Grunt, and I don’t punch the reporter because the verbal takedown that follows is so satisfying to me. The rachnai queen lives and so do the geth. Not Loghain, though, bye bro. Isabella is my friend, no matter how much is her fault, and Anders should have to suffer through the outcomes of his terrible choices. Leave Hawke in the Fade? Not a chance. And sorry, Viv, you will never be Divine as long as I am holding the controller.
Leave a Reply