Life is Never THAT Dramatic, Part 2: Romance

I’ve played a fair number of games – not a TON, but for having been a gamer for around 18 months, a fair number:  the Mass Effect Trilogy, Dragon Age: Origins and Inquisition, Skyrim, Assassin’s Creed, the Witcher 2, Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning, WoW, and some others, including strategy and turn-based games like Civilization V.  Of those, my favorites have always been Bioware (ME and DA) because I love their RPG and romance options so much. 

I have written about some of these romances before.  If you regularly visit this blog (and if so, thank you!), you’ve read about my undying love for Garrus and his desperate romance with Shepard, along with the unparalleled affection I have for Alistair and his romance with the Hero of Ferelden, which is so damn adorable that I have no words to describe it (they’re still together when you meet Alistair in Inquisition, just FYI. *squee!*)

Whoops. I just realized that might be considered a spoiler.  Perhaps just assume that I’m going to spoil things here, because I don’t think I can talk about Inquisition without giving something away.

Anyway! Whilst running about saving the world, enjoying an escape from my everyday life, it seems I inadvertently joined a group known as the “Cullenites.”  (And no, thank god, I’m not talking about the vampire.)

I wrote about Cullen not that long ago, when he was just the smug leader of the Inquisition’s military forces.  At the time, I was upset about my lack of choices for my Inquisitor to romance, and the more research I did, the more upset I became.  After all: Dorian is gay, Iron Bull is terrifying, Sera is super dumb, Blackwall is old, and Solas will only romance you if you’re an elf, which I am not.  I didn’t realize it when I wrote before, but Cullen was really my only option – nothing else was going to work.  I spent the first 15 hours or so of the game flirting with anyone at all, irritated that I wasn’t getting anywhere. 

But as soon as Haven imploded and the Inquisition marched to Skyhold, things started to change. 

First, a hymn, started by Mother Giselle but picked up by everyone. As Cullen closes his eyes to sing, as the incredible voice of Greg Ellis, his voice actor, pours out, I melt. 

Soon, a chess match between Cullen and Dorian, which the Inquisitor crashes before Cullen offers a game.  Nothing more special than chatting happens, but the spark of their romance flickers into being amidst smiles and innocent comments of spending time together. 

Then, a kiss.  Ooo, that spine-tingling kiss.

It starts so awkwardly, with Cullen trying to make conversation about the weather and the Inquisitor not paying even the slightest bit of attention.  As soon as she starts to open up though, and the possibilities start to solidify, Cullen responds – a slow lean in reminiscent of all good first kisses. 

Until they are interrupted. 

One of the running jokes of the game (and their relationship) is that Cullen has no ability to stop working at all, so when a scout comes looking for him to deliver a report and catches them off-guard, I laughed out loud.  Cullen turns to the scout and snaps “WHAT!” whereupon the scout realizes that the Inquisitor won’t even make eye contact, she’s so embarrassed.  He backs away going “to your office… right…” while Cullen just glowers at him, too pissed off to speak. 

As he leaves, the Inquisitor loses her sense of certainty, giving Cullen an out by saying, “If you have other things to do…” and trailing off, fidgeting and staring at the ground. 

And he pounces.

An intense, drawn-out, sexy kiss ensues, one where all the future possibilities take shape.

That’s when my reaction to Cullen started to change.   

Here’s the thing: I never buy games when they first come out. I haven’t had much opportunity anyway, but I also can’t stomach paying $60 for a game.  The only reason I own Inquisition already, when it came out less than four months ago, is because someone gave it to me for Christmas. 

So this time, this playing a game in its first few months, was totally new, and deep down, I was hoping that I was the first to discover Cullen. 

I know, in my heart, that this is stupid; I’m sure there were people who played the game all in its first 3-5 days, and from what I’ve read online, some people have been in love with Cullen since his very small role in Origins, where he’s been tortured and tries to convince you to kill all the mages in Broken Circle.  (They’ve changed his hair color and shaved his goatee since then, thank god; I didn’t even realize it was the same guy).  I also have a tendency to fall in love with the popular characters for Bioware games – Garrus and Alistair come to mind. 

Even so, I wanted Cullen all to myself.  Especially after that kiss…

I think Cullen has the most depth of any video game character I’ve ever encountered.  He grows and changes and struggles with himself throughout the game, something Garrus and Alistair never really did. 

Garrus is much darker; so much has gone badly for him and he is so desperate for things with Shepard to go right.  His character, while deep, is pretty malleable.  He might struggle in the first game to find himself outside C-Sec, and he definitely has some moral issues in ME2, but the decisions he makes and the character he becomes largely depend on how Shepard interacts with him.  Since I played as a paragon Shepard, he does experience a fair bit of growth, but (as much as I love him, and I really do) it always seemed a little manipulated.  He’s still the sexiest romance option by far though.  That voice…

And Alistair… Alistair is so freaking cute, so cuddly, that it’s hard to imagine him as having any darkness to his life.  He’s easy to understand: he is committed to the Grey Wardens, doesn’t want to be king but respects his duty if it comes to that, and loves to make sarcastic remarks and fight monsters with the Hero.  They are both great characters, ones that leap off the screen with a life of their own. 

But they aren’t like Cullen. 

Cullen is more like a real person.  He’s not overly handsome, first and foremost. He’s not ugly, that’s for sure, but he’s realistic: he’s got a long scar through one side of his lip, his eyes are brown instead of blue or green, and when he’s distressed, his face contorts into all sorts of ugly visages, much like a real person.  He punches things when he’s upset and stumbles over his words when he’s nervous, and he fights through a lot of internal conflict over his feelings about mages and their fates.  In ways that usually can’t happen outside novels, where there is the space for it, Cullen is real. 

This is how I managed to develop a crush on an NPC. 

The official romance scene between the Inquisitor and Cullen – read: the sex scene – is so amazing, it takes my breath away.  There’s a lot of really cute, unsteady dialogue to start, as Cullen is thinking about the future but doesn’t want to assume the Inquisitor thinks about him the same way.  As that unfolds, you can either break things off (which I did once just to see it, and it’s heartbreaking) or choose Romance; when that happens, the Inquisitor wedges herself between Cullen and his desk, where he’s retreated to protect himself, and literally says, “Cullen. Do you have to ask?” which is obviously to his delight.  He starts to lean in but she accidentally knocks a glass bottle off the desk, where it shatters on the stone floor.  For a moment, both are surprised; Cullen even shakes his head and gives a little smirk like “really?” before sweeping everything else off too and pulling the Inquisitor into his arms for a slow descent onto the desk. 

This is all absolutely super cute: Cullen is so unsure and scared but also so hopeful, and the Inquisitor is basically not giving in to the game, instead choosing to leap in and commit, knowing what she wants.  Adorable.  But from there, the realism of the scene is incredible.  As Cullen and the Inquisitor lay down, Inquisitor on her back with Cullen above her, everything happens as it really would.  The Inquisitor has to wiggle her butt onto the desk so that when they end up horizontal, they’ll be face to face, and Cullen leans as far as he can but has to catch himself on one hand on the table as he crawls on top of her.  There’s a flash of thigh movement as the Inquisitor wraps her legs around him, and she even gives him a little “come here” wave to kiss her once she gets situated on the desk.  The last, incredibly sexy thing you see before it fades to black is Cullen’s weight settling onto her as they finally come together.  I know that might not sound sexy, but it absolutely is – how real it feels, but also in how tender and gradual it is, like he wants to throw himself on her but is maintaining the tiniest bit of restraint.  There’s also a sense of relief that they are finally together -- the two smile the whole time, like they just can’t imagine being anywhere else, with anyone else.  It’s the sweetest, sexiest thing I think I’ve ever seen in a video game.  How I could watch this and NOT end up with a crush on Cullen is beyond me. 

Their morning after is sweet too.  The Inquisitor is up and dressed, tying up her boots, but Cullen is sleeping just behind her (with her body strategically blocking his nakedness).  I didn’t quite realize at first, but Cullen is having a lyrium-withdrawal nightmare – he’s breathing hard, like he’s terrified, and muttering “no” and “leave me” to his tormentors.  When the Inquisitor leans over, he wakes with a horrifyingly real start, one everyone has experienced, scanning the room in terror and only very slowly realizing he’s okay. 

Within moments, he’s frustrated that he’s worried the Inquisitor. Throughout the romance cut scenes, he’s been trying so hard to be strong and not put any additional work on her, and if you choose one option in an earlier scene, he offers to do anything he can to help her.  Here, he’s trying to regain that.  I choose the “Hey, it’s okay for me to worry” option each time, because the chuckle he gives as he realizes that’s part of being together is just so endearing. 

From there, Greg Ellis, his voice actor, deserves an Oscar or something.  Cullen leans in to rest his forehead again yours, saying softly that he’s “never felt anything like this,” and I choke up every time.  The actor does such an amazing job; the emotion he evokes takes me back to my husband and I’s third date, when we first admitted we were falling in love with each other and probably said something similar to Cullen here.  That a game can inspire that…  unbelievable. 

I think this is why I am so defensive about Cullen, why I don’t want anyone else to have the same game-play experience as me.  Obviously they do; Cullen is an NPC, he says the same stuff to anyone who romances him! But I feel so connected to my Inquisitor that it’s like these scenes are really happening to me.  That’s part of the temptation of video games: I have the chance to put myself into that situation, no matter what it is, in a way I don’t have when reading a book or watching a movie.  The game immerses me; I feel, on some level, that I am the Inquisitor.  Since he’s the Inquisitor’s in the game, obviously I want him to be all mine too – a silly fantasy I know is impossible, but I keep hoping anyway.  I don’t want to share him with the rest of the Cullenites J

So many other scenes inspire this same selfish feeling.  When Cullen tries to give up lyrium, when he takes you to visit his childhood home, when you dance at the Orlesian ball or embrace just before the end… They are all wonderful.  It makes perfect sense: when life is this demanding, this dramatic and threatening, each stolen moment feels passionate and desperate together, and I love it. 

Life is never THAT dramatic, Part 1: Saving the World

Life is never as dramatic as you think it will be.  There are always dramatic moments: proposals, promotions, break-ups, deaths, first kisses.  All of these are big dramatic moments, ones that stand out in your mind for years to come.

But these moments often pale in comparison to those whose lives are truly dramatic, those people who live on the edge in lives filled with adrenaline, with complications, with life or death moments.  Most of the time, I would never be jealous of those kinds of lives -- the drama that accompanies them, that makes them so alive, is very often dangerous (whether it be physically or emotionally) and at the very least, extremely stressful.

Thus, it's an accepted fact that, in the grand scheme of things, most lives are boring.  The world couldn't sustain 7 billion lives of high action, drama, and danger long-term; nothing small but crucial would get done, because who would choose to be a janitor or an office clerk if they could be off running around doing something amazing? Hell, who would choose to be a teacher, like me, if I could be off saving the world?

Few people are heroes. There are some, like the military, who are qualified as heroes simply by means of their jobs, but true heroes are few and far between.  Life simply doesn't demand that of us; life instead demands small courages, the courage to work hard at your job or relationship, the courage to accept and complete your responsibilities, the courage to summon reserves of stamina you didn't know you had and keep going in the face of any number of stresses and minor defeats.

Life doesn't ask many of us to risk our lives every day. It simply doesn't demand that kind of commitment; you can choose to live your life fully or sit back and let it pass by, or find a happy medium where you can relax and enjoy the ride.

I love my life, but it can be boring.  Like all lives can be boring, I suppose; I've never met someone who had a break-neck speed, drama filled life all the time (or at least, someone who had that and was happy). Lots of big, drama-filled moments have made my life amazing or awful, depending: births, divorces, proposals, marriages, and more.  But around those moments, life is often boring.

That isn't to say that this sense of boredom is bad; it's not, and in fact I firmly believe that it's totally normal. I love the life I lead -- movie nights with my husband, hanging out with my family, teaching reading and writing, enjoying time with my friends -- but my life is mundane.  There is little extraordinary about it.  I will work hard at my job for many years, and if I am lucky, I will make a small impact in my field.  My husband and I will work our asses off to keep our marriage alive and if we are lucky, we will succeed.  If I am very lucky, the work I do in all aspects of my life will allow me to be happy, to have a life I enjoy in the moment and can be proud of at the end.

No matter how hard I try, I will never save the world.

This, in a nutshell, is why I love fiction so much, why I love video games and novels and superhero movies.  I won't be able to save the world.  I will never have a romance as beautiful, or as desperate, as those in Mass Effect 3 or Dragon Age: Inquisition.  My contributions will never matter like Shepard’s or the Champion of Kirkwall’s.  It isn't a question of abilities, or love, or anything else I could control or influence; it is a simple fact of the world in which I live and nothing more.

When the world demands sacrifice, everything burns a little hotter.  When the world is as dangerous as it is in a video game, when hostile forces expound upon you at every turn, life might be short-lived and occasionally terrifying, but it is also electrifying in its intensity. 

I am not trying to trivialize those who do face lives like these.  I know it happens -- people fight in wars in the real world, and death and disease rip apart lovers and families the world over.  And some do have the kind of love that lives in video games because they are faced with the sad truth of such a short, desperate amount of time.  In the real world I would never want to trade places, not for anything.

Even so, there are times when I wish my own life was more exciting, was more desperate, was more centered on a single purpose.  I could give it one, I know that.  But if I declare that I will live my life for the cause of education, in all forms and at the expense of all other pursuits, I will still never have a life like a video game.  They are the ultimate escape from a life of routine, a life of comfortable necessity and an understandable, acceptable status quo.  That status quo, as comforting as it is, can occasionally be stifling, especially as I open up a game and within moments, am going about saving the world.

The ultimate human desire might be to feel needed -- like someone, somewhere, depends on you for something.  I can attest to this in terms of my job and relationships, parents would likely say the same for their children, and so on.  Being part of a community, where each has a role and a place to support, is important to human existence.

Even so, no one will ever need me to step up to the plate and sacrifice it all for the rest of the world.  But in these games, when I have the chance to step outside my life and destroy the Reapers, or save the galaxy, or take down dragons, or unify a country, or stand up to a thousand year old mage, someone does need me to save the world.

Something about that fulfills me, even as it crushes me with the banality of everyday life.

Games offer such an incredible escape that I am honestly surprised that more adults don’t play them.  Some days, as I am overwhelmed with grading and laundry and traffic and the sinking feeling that there’s only baking soda and expired milk left in my fridge, I look forward to leaping into a game where none of that matters.  No one in any game (perhaps ever!) worries about whether or not their bathroom needs cleaning, and I relish that escape, if only for a few hours.  

The Superbowl Experience

Around 6 pm last Sunday night, Bishop came into my office, where I’d been playing a video game on my computer.  Frustrated, he dropped into an armchair and said, “There’s like no one online in WoW.  I’m trying to put a group together to go through a dungeon and I can’t find anyone!” 

There’s a pause while we looked at each other, knowing in the back of our minds that something was going on to prevent people from using the Internet. 

It hit us at the same moment: “The Superbowl’s on tonight!” he realized, and I pointed out that it probably just started, so WoW’s emptiness made sense. 

“I don’t even know who’s playing,” Bishop laughed, the mystery solved. 

For maybe the first time, I actually knew this:  “It’s the Patriots… and the Hawks? Something about hawks and the 12^th man…” 

“The Seattle Seahawks?” 

“That’s them! That’s who’s playing tonight.”  I smiled, proud of myself.  He got up to leave, leaning over to high-five me as he went. 

“I knew a sports thing,” I bragged, and we both laughed. 

The End.