I’ve already outed myself as a sucker for mysterious pretty girls with a penchant for meanness, so it should hopefully come as no surprise that one of Starfield‘s companions immediately got my attention. I am, of course, talking about Andreja, the tough, roguish companion who, yes, fill’s the game’s goth slot.
Honestly, I’ve been looking for more reasons than just “it’s a Bethesda game” to justify buying Starfield, both for its massive price and all the space it’ll take up on my computer (125 gigs is a lot to ask for, Todd). And since I care more about story and character design than gameplay and graphics, it was a good sign to me that at least one of the companions seemed to be up my alley. As for the others … well, hey, I still need to give the game a chance, but companions have never been Bethesda’s strong suit.
That brings me to another new eyebrow-raiser regarding this game, which is the romance. As a person who does enjoy romance in games, I feel the need to say that just because people like having romance mechanics in their games, doesn’t mean that every game needs them. If the romance fits in awkwardly with the game’s overall design, then it probably shouldn’t be there. Conversely, if the game would benefit from romance, then you’d like to think we’re past the point of Press X to Get Your Freak On.
From what I’ve seen of Starfield, it isn’t all that different from how romance was handled in Fallout 4. You do various companion quests with your chosen beau, get to know them, and when you get a [Flirt] option, you take it every single time—even when it doesn’t seem like they want you to. Then, once their quest is all wrapped up, you will be given a dialogue option to either pursue a friendship, or a romance. It’s very boiler plate, very Bethesda, and very…weird.
I mean, it’s not like other games don’t follow a similar formula, but usually it doesn’t feel so inhuman. In most games, like the Dragon Age series, you aren’t given an explicit “flirt” option that can feel out of pocket depending on the circumstance. Instead, you’re given a series of dialogue options, two of which can be flirty and lead to a more naturally written romance. I hate to keep referencing Baldur’s Gate 3, as I don’t want to make blanket comparisons between two successful games without having played one of them, but that game handles romance very maturely by comparison. You gradually get to know someone just by traveling with them, and there are multiple ways to initiate romance depending on the character and the player. It doesn’t feel so player-centric and robotically gratifying, in other words.
Meanwhile, in Starfield, I watched bits and pieces of Andreja’s romance and it does the same thing Fallout 4 does: you have no relationship build-up beyond random moments of flirtation, up until you suddenly proclaim your love for the other person, and they reply, like, “Wow, no idea you felt that way. But I guess I do too! Okay I guess we’re bonded for life now!”
Obviously, the character writing is more in-depth than in past games, so credit where credit’s due. But it still doesn’t beat the “gamers are socially inept and have unrealistic expectations of dating” allegations.
What also doesn’t help is the fact that the game apparently gives you XP for having sex. And “sex” in this context is sex as only Bethesda can do it: go to sleep, wake up to your companion sleeping next to you, get a buff and some suggestive dialogue. I used to honestly hate this in Fallout 4, not because I’m a dirty little pervert who needs to see anything and everything, but because of the insinuation that sex must happen whenever we’re together. Like, damn Piper, I’m so sorry, it wasn’t my choice to get nasty in a moldy sleeping bag at the bottom of a sewer.
The last thing I find incredibly silly is the fact that all four romances are ultimately linear: you follow this formula of “flirty friends” to “soulmate,” and then the culmination—no matter who you’re romancing—is marriage. Like, straight up, they all want to get married. You can say no, of course, and just keep yourselves as an item without marriage, but these characters treat marriage as the highest form of “commitment” possible. Which is. I mean. I guess this is culturally where we’re all still at.
No disrespect to our married readers; I myself would like to get married someday. Even so, I acknowledge it’s not for everyone, nor does it mean that married couples are “more committed” than non-married couples. I know people who are deeply in love yet have no plans to get married. I know people who are deeply in love and only got married for practical reasons. I know people who have been married for years yet absolutely hate each other. Marriage is not “realistically” symbolic of anything at all, it’s only what you make of it.
All of which is to say, even though I think Andreja is a hottie with a personality for days, I still find it a little embarrassing that Bethesda’s latest attempt at more in-depth social mechanics basically boils down to a formula that feels like archaic wish fulfillment. The romances worked so well in Baldur’s Gate 3 because they let the characters have their own personalities and desires, and they deliberately made sure that you couldn’t just say or do whatever you wanted and still get a favorable outcome. You have to actually be human in that game and get human responses—hell, this even applies to the friendships. In Starfield, it seems more like a fanfic with rubber dolls.
But hey, at least there won’t be any moldy sleeping bags this time around.
(featured image: Bethesda Softworks)
