I don’t really have any desire to talk about most of Vallhalla, it’s well known and well liked, and I don’t have much to say that hasn’t already been said. I really just want to talk about Dorothy.

Dorothy is, at least in my perception, the most controversial aspect of Vallhalla. She’s a playful, flirty, talkative sex worker who looks 13 years old, and the game explicitly says this. She is not vaguely “young”, the game tells you she looks like a child and that she gets clients who want to have sex with her because she looks like a child. She details the jobs she has had to do and talks about the kinds of fantasies her body allows people to fulfill. This very understandably makes people uncomfortable and can definitely shift how you feel about the rest of the games blatant and overt sexuality.

When I first played this game sometime around its launch in 2016, Dorothy didn’t sit right with me. Her inclusion in the game felt like a poor decision at best and a thinly veiled “fetish” at worst, and I really couldn’t settle on which of those two options I had created in my head it was. Dorothy does talk bad about her clients, she calls them gross and creepy and predatory and like, sure. If the game didn’t do this, she would just be another character people would post softcore porn of in r/animememes with captions that say shit like “I look 12 but am actually 100! Kyah!”. But like, what was being said here? What about her calling her clients predatory justified her describing their fantasies and wishes so often? If the game wanted to call lolicons freaks, then why do it this way?

At the time I didn’t really have an answer, I couldn’t justify her inclusion in the game. If she had been cut from the game entirely and replaced with a scene where someone else says that pedophiles suck it would have been preferable to me, would’ve meant I didn’t have to read about her roleplaying as people’s daughters during sex. I can’t say Dorothy was the only factor in me dropping the game as a teen, but it was part of it; I dropped it about 3/4ths of the way through.

The game stayed with me though, and I knew at some point I’d replay it and finally see it through to the end. Finally, now, as an adult in 2023 I picked it back up and finished it, and I completely see Dorothy in a new light now.

Since I had last experienced the game, two things changed that led to this shift in opinion: I transgendered and I became a sex worker. Every single day, regardless of what I do, say, post, or want, my sex work revolves around me being a girl with a penis. Every client I get, every job I do, every single piece of content I make is tied to how people feel about trans women both consciously and unconsciously. When I read Dorothys dialogue, all of this new life experience made it all click for me. I’ve dealt with weird requests, had to do jobs for clients that made me feel gross. Her dialogue about wanting to cyberpunk body upgrade to a more adult appearance but choosing not to went from feeling like a lame excuse to a lived reality. Any thoughts about bottom surgery I have, regardless of if I want it or not, are filtered through knowing that if I do choose to get the procedure, I’ll be destroying any audience I’ve managed to build for myself. Her talking about the weird jobs she’s done doesn’t read like the writer’s kinks leaking through, it reads like how I talk about the weird jobs I’ve done. I have had the thought that I overshare to friends, that I talk too much about gross shit and should just not talk about it, but when I try it fucking sucks. I need an outlet to talk about that stuff, and for me I have close friends, but Vallhalla is a game about bartending so for Dorothy it's a bartender.

Last thing I want to mention is how often Dorothys safety is talked about in game. It’s something that I basically completely overlooked when I first played as a teen, but it’s brought up a lot. She’s modified herself to have a gun built into her hands, broadcast signal jammers disguised as wearable cat ears, has had to upgrade her skin to better recover from bruises. It’s all a bit silly, all explained with sci-fi technobabble, but it made it clear to me the writers understood that a character in Dorothys position is not safe, is forced to put herself in vulnerable positions for her job.

I just wanted to write this all out because it’s something I’ve never seen discussed when people talk about Dorothy. I don’t expect it to sit right with everybody, but if you had a sense of unease preventing you from enjoying the game, I hope maybe I’ve convinced you to give it another shot. Time to mix drinks and change lives.

In terms of design, this feels like the next big thing every other game in the genre will try to recreate or to build from, not just in the deliberate absence of direct violence as the default way to interact with the world, but in the way that world is presented, and how your RPG abilities are handled. It's pretty ingenious and contributes tremendously to the overall experience. In terms of writing, it's hard to deny its merits, as it is a very ambitious game in both scope, variety, extravagance and complexity, and in a way, it achieves a lot by being profound in its conversations and chilling in its crucial moments, BUT, and here's my biggest gripe with the game; Disco Elysium feels like it desperately wants to be the coolest kid in school, with this pessimisstic vibe and this unbearable edginess that really messes with what is otherwise a masterpiece. Is like that scene in Good Will Hunting when Matt Damon faces another man in a bar and asks him which authors has he read. Very pathetic, really. And the sad part is that unlike that awful movie, Disco Elysium HAS very cool shit to tell and show, and that tenderness, that genius character writing (your main companion in particular may be the best videogame character ever), that attention to detail, and those big poignant moments get kind of ruined by the sheer degree of cynicism present throughout the game. From the "capital subsumes all its critiques into itself" bullshit, to the world ending nightmarish-political vibes of a devastated city that can't and won't improve its conditions because it tried once and didn't succeed so what's the point of doing it again and why even bother, to the atrocious western marxism-trotskyism ode of an ending, at some point, this is a misery parade, despite all of the ways it may seem it isn't. At its core, this game has a messiah complex, and an overwhelming negative view of everything, and that spoils everything else. Take that out, and this is the best game of all time.

I have a disgusting number of hours in this game and I could go on for about an equivalent amount of time talking about it. I will probably write about it for too long as a result, but if you have a little bit of time, then hopefully by the end of this you'll understand why this is one of my favorite games.

Valve is infamous by this point for being one of the most influential players in the PC gaming market, for better or for worse. The things they do tend to break new ground in one form or another, and the fact that you're statistically likely to be playing the bulk of your PC games through their own digital storefront is a testament to how that can definitely be a mixed bag. When it comes to the games they release, though, I'd say they tend to hit the mark more often than not. Counter-Strike, Left 4 Dead, Half-Life, Portal, Dota 2. No matter who you are, you are probably familiar with at least one of those names. And sitting on its own little cloud up in Olympus: Source, shrieking and flailing its arms around while its brethren quietly try to enjoy their dinner of ambrosia and gold, there is Team Fortress 2.

The game has a very interesting development history that led to the creation of a TF2 that is radically different than how it was initially envisioned. I won't get into it all here, but at the end of that long nine years was a production that ended up taking off in ways that I don't think anybody at Valve possibly could have predicted.

TF2's secret sauce actually has a very simple recipe behind it: It's a masterfully designed class-based FPS hiding beneath a veneer of cartoonish violence and absurdity. With an aesthetic inspired by Norman Rockwell prints and 60's spy films, it immediately stands out when lined up with its contemporaries, and it's accentuated by a zany sense of humor which permeates the whole experience up to and including its gameplay. Valve promoted the game heavily with fun animated "interviews" with the game's nine playable classes, lending each of the nameless mercenaries a fistful of hammy charm. It had a definite allure, and that allure is exactly what roped me in when I first played it back in 2009, and was single-handedly responsible for introducing me to PC gaming proper, making me realize what I had been missing out on living exclusively in Nintendo's world for most of my childhood.

At the heart of TF2's gameplay is the nine classes and their distinctive toolkits that, while sometimes contentious with regards to their efficacy, have well-defined strengths and weaknesses. Each of the classes are simple to understand but relatively difficult to master, and while the game might trick you into thinking that running and shooting and ending the sentence there is the whole of the core TF2 experience, you will quickly realize how much that would undersell what's on offer here. Team Fortress 2 relies heavily on an intersection of the uniqueness of its classes and the underlying mechanics of the Source engine to create an experience that is far more nuanced than it appears. Scouts can quickly accomplish objectives but are also deceptively deadly, capable of removing key players from the field and making a quick escape if they're skilled enough. Soldiers and Demomen can utilize explosive jumping to clear unreal amounts of distance in a short period of time, a technique that is absolutely essential at the highest levels of play. Engineers can blindside enemies with creative or unconventional building placement, Pyros can shut down pushes with clever use of their airblasts, Spies can cause panic amongst enemy teams by carefully choosing when to engage their targets - even the more "straightforward" classes like Sniper and Heavy, whose jobs are ostensibly to simply point and shoot, can use their kit in ways that will reward them and their team for thoughtful play. It takes hours of practice to master the mechanics and develop a strong game-sense. Toss in a variety of maps and objectives, alongside a long list of unique weapons with properties that often go far beyond "fires faster but deals less damage", and the situation on the battlefield is constantly changing. It's chaos, though it is ultimately controlled chaos, and no matter how hectic things get, it's still skill and quick thinking that win the game in the end (usually - but I'll touch on that). But no matter how intense the experience becomes, it's still a blast to play, and even the most inexperienced of players will find a lot to love on their way up the ladder.

So yes, the game itself is great - but that isn't the reason why many of us stay. Hardcore players will always keep a game alive and relevant far past its prime, as demonstrated by the tight-knit communities behind shooters like DOOM and Quake. However, what keeps TF2 in the public eye and keeps new and old players alike from ever truly forgetting it is its charm. There is so much about the Team Fortress experience that you simply don't get in most games these days. The endless quotability of the delightfully deranged mercs. The timeless appeal of a ragdoll cartwheeling sixty feet into the air from a well-placed rocket. The wild screams of an angry Scottish man barreling towards you at Mach 3 being the last thing you hear before he separates your head from your shoulders with a massive claymore. The sight of a large tutu-clad man clubbing your foes to death with a sign adorned with a picture of the anime community's Waifu of the Month. A Scout laughs at a corpse only to be shot down by another Scout, who then laughs, and initiates a conga line of small men laughing at corpses before subsequently being murdered. And that's before the actual conga line starts. Informal ceasefires are commonplace so everybody can take a break from the shooting and just goof off for a few minutes. Players keep a key bound to "kill" for no other reason than because spontaneously falling lifeless to the floor for the most contrived of reasons is never not funny. TF2 is chaotic and hilarious and it never tries to betray that quirkiness by taking itself too seriously. The appeal never fades away no matter how many years pass, and I think that even if TF2 was a mechanically perfect game, it wouldn't be as beloved as it is today if not for that.

But it obviously isn't all peaches and cream. Even for as tight as TF2's gameplay is, it has some definite failings with regards to enforcing team balance, which is as essential here as it is in any competitive multiplayer game. The learning curve and astronomically high skill ceiling can easily alienate newcomers, who will find themselves dramatically outclassed by experienced players who know how to weaponize all of the game's quirks. And naturally, this being an online game, there are plenty of sour grapes who will occasionally make the player-to-player experience a hostile one, though they are blessedly still in the minority. There are some truly baffling design decisions that have plagued the game since day one, with things such as random crits (which, contrary to the name, actually operate on a rich-get-richer principle where you're more likely to crit the more damage you've been dealing) and random bullet spread sometimes making winning an interaction infuriatingly RNG-based. Free-to-players will have some trouble experiencing every aspect of the game without actively engaging in trading, and the greater limitations placed upon them in the last few years due to the recent botting crisis means they will definitely feel pressured to spend some money. And on that note - and definitely TF2's greatest claim to infamy - this is perhaps the progenitor of the "loot box" craze, and while far less predatory than many of the games that took inspiration from it, it's still a system that entices you to spend real-world money for a slim chance at getting a virtual item that will make you look and feel cool. If there's any one sin that TF2 and, by extension, Valve will never be able to totally wash its hands of, it's that one.

Indeed, Valve's treatment of TF2 over its lifetime is probably its biggest failing as a whole, and yet is simultaneously the best demonstration of this game's strength on its own merits. Their initial decision to make the game free-to-play after a short time as a standard retail release was initially met with some criticism, but it ultimately worked in the game's favor by ensuring anybody with even a passing interest in the game could try it free of commitment. Needless to say, a whole lot of people were hooked. For a while, things were great, with big and exciting updates adding new weapons, maps and gamemodes that ensured there was always a reason to crack the game open. However, as time has gone by, Valve has shown less and less interest in supporting the game as anything other than a simple revenue generator, failing to provide meaningful new content for its playerbase while still being more than happy to pump out new cosmetics for them to empty their wallets onto. This, along with the aforementioned bot invasion that made the casual experience nigh-on unplayable for many, lead to fans practically having to beg Valve to show some meaningful support for their beloved game. There was a response, if not much of one, and we're all still waiting for something truly substantial to come as a result - but we are all still here. After sixteen years and many ups and downs, TF2, a game that is fundamentally the same one we were all playing back in 2007, is still going strong, enjoying a healthy player count and celebrated by the community through gargantuan heaps of artwork and animations that still manage to sneak their way into the Internet's cultural zeitgeist. Private servers, mods and a strong competitive scene ensure that the faithful have a place to enjoy themselves no matter how much the "true" TF2 experience stagnates. It's a game that simply won't die, and that's because it's a game that, when all is said and done, is just plain fun. It's goofy, it's addicting, and at its best, it's exhilarating. Team Fortress 2 is and will always be one of my favorite games of all time, and even if I have a harder time recommending it today than I did ten or even five years ago, that isn't the fault of the game itself, but rather of its creators who fail to appreciate what an absolute gem they've made. There never needs to be a Team Fortress 3. What we need is a Team Fortress 2.1 - a promise from Valve that, for as long as people love the game, they will keep giving them reasons to come back to it. But I do feel content knowing that even if Valve has no intention of keeping the game alive, its fans will.

Having played this game about 300 times I was excited to revisit it again to see what I could gleam from the experience. I played and completed most of the quests up to repairing the tanker in San Francisco.

Fallout is known for its writing and this one leaves me with some mixed feelings as an adult. At its best the writing is crude, but mostly I found it juvenile. Most youngsters will probably find the number of 90s pop culture references cringe inducing, but having once been a teen when this game came out I found it charming in a strictly nostalgic way. What has aged most poorly is all the offensive content in the game. There's a lot of casual racism and rape jokes - including instances where the female player character can be raped by other characters. I always give the inclusion of controversial material in any thing the benefit of the doubt, but playing this removed from the zenith of my rabid young adult fandom for Black Isle the only reason it's in there is for yucks. And outside of that being tasteless, it's also just poor writing.

While the writing itself I didn't find memorable, the broad strokes of the narrative are quite good. This is especially true in the first half of the game. I loved the section of the game that takes place in Vault City - New Reno - NCR. The way the quests interweave between these locations is still really good, and each of these cities have a nice variety of quests to get into, a cool political struggle to get ensconced in, and lots of fun, random trouble to find yourself in. This is the section of the game where you can instantly recognize where New Vegas came from. This area of the game is so great that it really casts a wide shadow over the other locations in the game that offer very little aside from a few simple quests to score some loot and experience from. Especially disappointing was San Francisco, which is mostly used for some dated Scientology humor and casual Asian American racism.

I still found the combat really good. It would be a dream for Fallout to return to tactical, turn based combat. The nuts and bolts of the game are still really excellent, and you'll have a lot of fun tweaking your characters or thinking up fun or challenging builds to run with. This game is infamous for its challenge, and the early game may feel especially frustrating, but the gradual power curve is still very satisfying. It's also really enjoyable when the game's RNG throws you a bone, like dropping you into the middle of a shootout between slavers and rangers and being able to walk out with a combat shotgun way sooner than you should. It feels good to break the game.

If you're a CRPG student Fallout 2 is required reading. If you're a new Fallout fan you may enjoy the more centered and consistent Fallout 1 better than this one.