I've written about this before.
So, the Mass Effect 3 extended cut was released a day or so back, and I got around to downloading it this evening.
I sat there, watching the progress bar ticking its little electronic way to the top, pixel by pixel. Each new blue dot adding a sprinkling of data to the drive.
Perhaps the wave of a hand here, the carefully calculated glint of a tear there.
All manner of joy or despair could be encoded behind each tiny increment on this bland blue bar.
It was a series I became heavily involved with, sandboxing away a small section of my mind that was Shepherd. Something I suspect a number of my roleplaying chums also do for any character that is important to them.
And as I watched the bar move, I found myself replaying in my head the entire Mass Effect saga as I played it. Starting with Shepherd's rise and triumph during the first game. The blossoming friendship, closeness and eventually romance with, ah, but that would be telling. Through her inexplicable fall, surprising resurrection and sheer hard work through games two and three to the point where she was the last possible hope for the survival of not only mankind, but the entire civilised galaxy.
To the small section of my mind that was Shepherd, this mattered only a little. One life, one face mattered above all else, and she would see the galaxy burn rather than leave her beloved alone again.
Then, reaching the remembered ending of the third game, the crushing disappointment I felt when the only thing Shepherd, I, could choose was the manner of my pointless death. Whether I was remembered with shame, dissapointment, or anger by the shattered remains of a once proud and now desolate galaxy that I was given no option to actually save.
There is a forth choice.
They labelled it Cancel Download
and I am free.
I sat there, watching the progress bar ticking its little electronic way to the top, pixel by pixel. Each new blue dot adding a sprinkling of data to the drive.
Perhaps the wave of a hand here, the carefully calculated glint of a tear there.
All manner of joy or despair could be encoded behind each tiny increment on this bland blue bar.
It was a series I became heavily involved with, sandboxing away a small section of my mind that was Shepherd. Something I suspect a number of my roleplaying chums also do for any character that is important to them.
And as I watched the bar move, I found myself replaying in my head the entire Mass Effect saga as I played it. Starting with Shepherd's rise and triumph during the first game. The blossoming friendship, closeness and eventually romance with, ah, but that would be telling. Through her inexplicable fall, surprising resurrection and sheer hard work through games two and three to the point where she was the last possible hope for the survival of not only mankind, but the entire civilised galaxy.
To the small section of my mind that was Shepherd, this mattered only a little. One life, one face mattered above all else, and she would see the galaxy burn rather than leave her beloved alone again.
Then, reaching the remembered ending of the third game, the crushing disappointment I felt when the only thing Shepherd, I, could choose was the manner of my pointless death. Whether I was remembered with shame, dissapointment, or anger by the shattered remains of a once proud and now desolate galaxy that I was given no option to actually save.
There is a forth choice.
They labelled it Cancel Download
and I am free.