(The Cartridge Lit blog.)
Once the ship is captured, it is hidden behind the Boss and the player. By destroying the boss, players can free the ship and use it at the same time for double fighters. “Some people,” Michael said, as he allowed his fighter to be taken, “prefer to only use one. You can play however you like.”
It’s easy enough to put these options into open-world style games, where romance is essentially a side quest. But what about linear games, where any sense of diversion from the main story is an illusion? What about the games where a character is shot like an arrow towards his or her fate? Where are the LGBTQ options in these?
The player character (in this case, BUTT) is a rookie detective for Interpol, given the task of solving jewelry heists around the world; because I was channeling the early 90s, I named my avatar BUTT.
I go to fight the Deathclaw Queen, now that I’m strong enough to kill it. And I do. But Tycho dies. Reload. I die. Reload. Dogmeat dies. Reload. Tycho dies. Reload.
We’d like to take a moment to officially welcome A.A. Balaskovits, who we are bringing on as the third editor of Cartridge Lit. She will be helming up new social media initiatives, reading submissions, doing the kind of outreach we haven’t even thought of before, and generally keeping the airship afloat with her supreme delegation skills, and we couldn’t be more thrilled to have her.
We think video games are literature, and so why shouldn't there be literature about video games? That's the question we're hoping to answer here. Read more.
