The Unique Joy Of Discovering Your Queerness In Video Games

Much like the world in general (shout out 20BiTeen!) video games keep getting gayer and gayer.

I’m currently playing Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey as Kassandra who with her muscled arms and can-do attitude perfectly fits the way I’m playing her: queer AF. It has also been wonderful to be able to romance both men and women in the game (which is also something you can do if you choose her brother Alexios at the beginning of the game).

While I read Kassandra as queer, and many players play her as a lesbian (let’s not talk about her bullshit straight-washing in the DLC) it has been a revelation to me to be able to romance male characters if I want to, with zero blowback in the game. It shouldn’t feel low-key forbidden, but it does. And that’s precisely what makes video games so essential for folks who want to explore their gender and sexuality.

A Big, Queer, Love Letter To Dragon Age: Inquisition

The first time I encountered a queer world that felt authentic — in fact, the first time I found explicitly queer and trans people in a video game at all — was in Dragon Age: Inquisition, the third instalment of the fantasy series from developer Bioware.

One of the things that especially rang true for me was the concept of “found family” within the game DA:I. In the real world, queer and trans people find each other and make families — a group of people chosen out of love and support, never mind the lack of blood connection. Sometimes, it’s because blood family cannot relate to the queer experience to the point where they cannot provide support. Other times, it is because their blood family outright rejects them.

DA:I was the first time I saw my big queer family accurately represented in a video game. With snarky gay mage Dorian, lesbian elven archer Sera, pansexual mercenary and Qunari spy the Iron Bull and bisexual diplomat Josephine in the core cast, Bioware nailed it.

Queer characters are scattered throughout the supporting and minor cast. One major quest sees you preventing (or allowing!) the assassination of the Empress of Orlais (a French-Venetian-influenced society) at a fancy ball in her Winter Palace. The Empress has an ex-lover named Briala who is a female elf. The scandal is that Briala is an elf — a marginalised race within the world of the game — rather than that she’s a woman. The ball level also features a m/m couple sniping at each other about flirting with some noble or the other, with one gentleman declaring “I will talk to you about this when we get home!” It’s those small touches that make the world feel queer in a way that reflects the real world.

There’s Krem, (aka Cremisius Aclassi) a trans man soldier serving under the Iron Bull.

While BioWare could have done better (in casting a trans voice actor, for example), Krem is the first trans character that many people would have encountered in a AAA game, and the queer community has praised the character. The player can ask questions that, yes, would be pretty rude to ask a trans person, but which nevertheless presents a learning experience for the player. The Iron Bull (who lost an eye defending Krem in a tavern brawl) even appropriately bristles at some of the questions you can ask him about Krem, with the implication being that no, you shouldn’t ask about certain things.

And then there’s our favourite mage, who caused a whole subgroup of straight guys to go “gay for Dorian”.

Dorian allows players to explore a romance with a man, as a man, something that can be done quietly and without fanfare. The relationship is about more than sex, with the player helping Dorian to deal with his shitty family from back home in Tevinter. There’s a real love story in the narrative. Not only is this a fantastic way to explore your sexuality, but even if you’re a straight guy playing this game, the ability to play a queer Inquisitor builds empathy.

You can romance Sera as a woman, or Josephine, who is bisexual. The romances feel authentic and realistic, and have varying degrees of difficulty when it comes to dialogue and in-game choices.

I found a thrill in romancing the traditionally handsome blond soldier Cullen. While I’d previously been out as a lesbian for many years, choosing to romance Cullen (and later, the Iron Bull — sorry Cullen, but you’re quite dull) allowed me to explore and come to terms with my bisexuality and indeed with my non-binary gender identity. Romancing Dorian as a man, for example, allowed me to explore my masculine/queer side.

Bisexual folks, sadly, often face hostility within queer circles (some lesbians won’t date bi girls, for example) as well as the straight world (where bisexual erasure is rampant) so having the option to explore my sexuality within the very safe context of a video game was an extremely welcome baby step to embracing my identity as a non-binary bi person.

Several friends of mine credit DA:I in particular with helping them to explore their gender or sexuality. Fiction writer and poet Nicasio Silang started figuring out he was trans when the female Inquisitor (who was wire-framed by a man) demonstrates masculine body language. “It was the way she shifted when she was sitting on the throne that felt inherently masculine to me,” says Nicasio. He then went on to create multiple masculine characters. “I could be me.”

From The Sims To Twine

Games like The Sims have taken any gender-restrictions off clothing and attributes such as facial hair or breasts so that characters can pick any combination they want and play as someone well outside of the gender binary, a joyous experience for many trans, non-binary and gender non-conforming folks.

JY Yang, the non-binary author of the lauded Tensorate Series, experienced gender euphoria when playing as Corvo in Dishonored. “I got such a thrill out of running around with these big man-hands,” they said. Queer writer Nibedita Sen has found that video games can be an excellent short-hand for signalling queerness. “You can just casually mention who you’re romancing, or what you find affirming about your character’s appearance, and people just roll with it. It’s low key and super helpful.”

AAA games aren’t the only places for people to experience queerness in a video game — there are a heap of indie titles that deserve acclaim. Dream Daddy, the gay dad dating simulator, lets you play as a trans or cis guy, and also has the option for you to have had a male or female partner in your backstory. Other titles like Tacoma and Life is Strange feature queer characters and storylines that are essential to the play through.

Open-source platforms like Twine allow people to create their own games exploring their gender and sexuality with a minimum of coding knowledge required, with games like Queers In Love At the End of the World by Anna Anthropy (a 10-second piece of heartbreak) gaining international acclaim. Marginalised creators have embraced Twine as a way to tell stories using free, accessible software.

Seeing yourself in narratives — both mainstream and indie — is vitally important. As the famous quote by Marian Wright Edelman goes, “You can’t be what you can’t see.” Or as the less-famous quote by me goes, “I like gay shit.”

Video games still have a long way to go as far as representation goes, and there are still a bunch of people who lose their shit when queer characters are included in games, but character by character and game by game, options are being included. There’s something wonderful about getting to make choices that help you to explore yourself, and if queer options in games means more queer and trans people in the world, I’m all for them.

–

Emma Osborne is a queer, non-binary writer, gamer and hugger from Melbourne, Australia. Their work has appeared in Uncanny Magazine, Nightmare Magazine, Queers Destroy Science Fiction, Pseudopod and GlitterShip. You can find them on Twitter at @redscribe.