Like everything good in life, it started with a blow from the back. An unexpected, unwanted and certainly unpleasant assault from behind, and I never saw it coming. It had begun, and abruptly ended, in little more than a flash and there was nothing I could have done.

The perpetrator: slender, suave, sophisticated, smokin' ... He towers over my broken body as he brushes down his crimson pinstripes, and adjusts his matching tie. His face: shrouded from all recognition by the mask(s) he wears; his voice: not so dissimilar to my own half-uncle: calculated, raspy and arrogant. And French.

Mystified, bewildered and totally intrigued, I stare into the camera feed now on my screen. I had never seen anything quite like it. In this world of rocket explosives, pipe-bomb spam and sniper fire, a lone man toys with his enemies from behind their own front-lines. Striking from the shadows. Lost in the crowds. Completely invisible to the naked eye.

I withdraw from the battle to witness further the devilishly devious antics of my assailant - the mind-games he envelops around my former comrades, the deceitful acting he masterfully employs to fool these ever-so-real players into believing he is a friendly friend to their cause. Just as quickly as they believe him, he is behind them. Razor-sharp knife at the ready, primed for the kill. A second later, a corpse lies limp and lifeless. And the shadowy figure has taken his own identity away from him.

I'm amazed. In all the games I'd ever played, never had I seen such psychological warfare. Here existed a class that could periodically become invisible to all, mask himself as an enemy player and then attempt to fool human players into believing in his disguise, and then literally backstab them as he swiftly sabotages their efforts.

Yeah, I remember. It all started right there.

I wanted to be the Spy.



Honestly, I was a total beginner to Team Fortress 2. Only having played Medic, Scout and Sniper in my single-figure matches, I had absolutely zero experience to apply to this not-so-newbie-friendly ninth class: the Spy. In hindsight, I probably would've played a few other classes first - but then who seriously wants to stay babysitting buildables all match?

It was little surprise then that, accustomed to blasting my opponents apart with Scout's scattergun and Sniper's rifle, I soon found that attacking enemies upfront with the revolver wasn't the most successful approach to effective spying (read: it was an abysmal failure and it should never be tried again). So I began toying with the Spy's Invisibility Watch, but I consistently overestimated the time taken for the cloak to drain empty. Surprise, surprise: I uncloak in front of every enemy Pyro, and find myself a crumbling pile of ash moments later.

"FUCKIN' PYROOOSSSSSSS", I would cry, half-pondering a letter of complaint to Valve to indicate that I found this flamethrower class rather overpowered and would appreciate their swift removal from the game as a loyal, paying customer. It absolutely wasn't fair, this class could counter every trick in my book. It was unjustified, totally broken and the TF2 developers were imbeciles for adding it to the game. Seriously, how was I supposed to remain invisible and continue my insta-killing sprees when these silly Pyros keep lighting me on fire?!

Yeah, that's an easy one to answer. I sucked. Hard.

I persisted with it, albeit persistently missing my stabs, bumping into Soldiers, forgetting to cloak/disguise as I approached enemy Sentry Nests and generally failing miserably - and yet with each life lost, I learned something new. I noticed that the standard Invisibility Watch lasts ~9 seconds, but picking up ammo refueled the meter. I discovered I could quickly stab an Engineer and disable his sentry gun before it could flip around to fire at me. I realised I wasn't so bad after all, and that through all my comparably pathetic failures, I was getting better and better every time.

I just needed more practice.



A couple-dozen hours later, and after what must have been over a thousand deaths, I had grasped the basics. I could sometimes pull off a standard backstab, I knew the locations of most of the ammo pickups required to refuel my cloak and I'd finally learned to respect Spy Rule #1: try and stay the fuck away from Pyros!

But alas, just as I gained faith in my own abilities, Mr. Veteran would enter the server. The 300-hour , mastered in the ways of slick stairstabs and deceitful disguise-acting. Instantly, their score would become triple of mine and I would lose hope in even dreaming of becoming comparable. They knew exactly what to do, when to do it and how to make it look so easy. It was simply enviable.

So I said as much over the microphone. I complimented his prowess, I told him I was just learning the ropes and I hoped to play Spy as effectively as him one day. It was merely a polite gesture as an observer to his skills; I was expecting nothing more than a "Thanks!" or a "pr0skillz, n00b!".

Instead, the gentleman linked me to YouTube.

Aha! Tutorials: it was so obvious! Why waste your precious days trying to figure the kinks to these complicated classes when some stranger from the Internet has recorded them all down for you in shiny, colourful motion-picture? Gameplay footage! Pie charts! Dissolve transitions~!

Whether your game's Team Fortress 2, Counter-Strike, League of Legends or World of Warcraft, the Internet's likely to be bursting with helpful guides, FAQs, 'Hints and Tips' and stat-builds that other players have compiled specifically for people like us: people that want to learn (and are too lazy to figure it out on their own). Find them on YouTube, the forums or even gaming blogs like this one! Failing that, see if you can't convince someone experienced in your chosen trade to lend you a helping hand. Or just stalk them in spectator mode.


(Destructoid CBlog - DIY Video Embedding! Print-screen the video and hyperlink the image yeaaaaaa!)

Right. We've watched every video tutorial, we've read every strategy guide and we've kissed the ass of every veteran in the field. We know what we need to do. What now??

We just need somewhere to practice.

Introducing tr_walkway - The #1 'Team Fortress 2' training tool! A downloadable custom map that allows the player to spawn computer-controlled target dummies and adjust their speed, spawn time and crouch/strafe frequency amongst other various options designed to streamline your particular training regime.

Want to improve your headshot aim?
Practice your crossbow airshots?
Want to practice various backstabs?

Walkway's the map for you. I'll vouch for it.



For several weeks, I'd routinely kill an hour or two every day on the Walkway - like a virtual exercise regime from the comfort of my own deskchair. As the bots clambered up the central ramp, I would leap over their heads and attempt to catch their back as I passed; the famed 'stairstab'. I would move beside my target and flick my wrist to backstab the moment they walked by; the slick 'sidestab'. I'd even brush up my revolver aim every kill or so; the trusty 'fuck I missed, backpedal, bang bang!'

Then, with a new-found confidence in my abilities, I'd hit the server browser. I'd flick between them, joining for a match or two as I measured my own skill against my fellow players. The last thing I wanted was to join a server full of professionals, but I didn't want a cakewalk either. I needed a server with regular players at my own level, with enough room to improve my abilities at my own pace. No gimmicky mods, no increased player count - just pure, sweet Vanilla.

I found one.
I connected.
I played.
I stayed.

And that was that.

In the 750+ hours of Spy that followed, I consistently improved. I knew what the team expected of me, how I could best contribute to the team from my role and where they needed me to be. I had a vague idea of 'how to not die', but whenever I did, I acknowledged that it was merely the result of my opponent's superior gameplay or my own err in judgement - not because the entire server had instantly activated their wallhacks/aimbots just to kill the fantastic Blitzy!

And as the hours racked up and my training became more extensive, I became satisfactorily proficient in the arts of trickstabbing, espionage, deception and domination. I soon found fellow veteran Spies just as keen to master the class as I, alongside wannabe Spies who wanted to learn the basics of it. Just as I'd appreciated the advice I'd been given as a beginner, I found a warm satisfaction sharing my experiences with others inspired by my prowess. I grew to respect manners and sportsmanship online; refraining from self-inflating taunts and boasts and simply allowing my own actions to speak for me.



(It's my own video!- 'Life as a Spy' using the Saharan Spy set with the Cloak and Dagger!)

But even now, I don't believe I'm done. Even having learned so much already, I'm still by no means a Spymaster. I still have so many more matches to see, so many more players to face and so many more fun times to be had as I continue to develop as a player. Perhaps one day, I'll learn everything there is to learn from Spy and I'll actually try out another class. I'm in no rush. I'm not competing against anyone; I'm not exactly racing to become World Champion of TF2. I'm simply enjoying the game for what it is. It's a game.

Sure, I was a total scrub once. Like everyone, I had to start somewhere and I had to face my own share of failure and humiliation. I made mistakes, but I learned something new from each and every one: 1) Pyro takes no skill, 2) Valve hates Spies and 3) Demospam's totally OP.

But that's okay! Facing overwhelming adversity brings its own rewards; they're simply further challenges to overcome as your skills develop and improve! Just remember that everything that pisses you off, everything that makes you truly boil with rage, is just another obstacle standing in your path to gaming greatness - and when you reach an obstacle that you cannot yet bypass?

You train yourself until you're ready to conquer it.

In 1999, Wing Commander's Chris Roberts foretold the world of an interactive experience: an ever-evolving universe in which anything was possible. A universe where everything could be, everything could happen and everything could change. "Be whoever you want to be", the man proclaimed, "shape the universe with your actions and see its people react in turn."

A spectrum of factions, each with their own unique goals and perspectives, would populate the universe's sparse star-systems with their own dynamic economies and shifting territories. The freedom to explore a shrouded universe of mystery, married with the freedom to discover a wondrous universe of beauty, treasure and lore. The opportunity to make a mark in an ocean of stars, to feature in the legacies of those who saw and soared.

Trader, miner, police and pirate. Smuggler, courier, mercenary and hunter.
Chauffeur, escort, assassin and bodyguard. Scientist, explorer, spy and scout.

Everyone had their role to play. It was simply a question of deciding which role was right for you.

We're back to 2012. More than a decade later, I catch myself staring hazily into the back of Freelancer's CD case, lost in a daze as I recount my epic endeavors in its virtual space. Setting the game itself beside me as a means for inspiration was an honest mistake, I find, as I continue to delay myself further from writing this article.

For all of Freelancer's accomplishments and achievements, my imagination refuses to resist straying back to 1999 where I'm taken back to a fantastical vision identifying everything a gamer could ever want from a roleplaying game, and where the product itself just couldn't quite deliver.

I'm taken back to 'Freelancer: What could have been?'





Launched in March 2003, the Microsoft-published space-simulator casts you in the role of Edison Trent, a freelance pilot earning his name and pay one contract at a time. You begin with a smalltime spacecraft in a smalltime star system, and you utilise the system's established 'trade lanes' to zip and zoom between points-of-interest: planets, stations and spaceports. Docking aboard any of these brings you straight to the base's barkeeper (like any worthwhile space cowboy), and you receive the lowdown on what tasks need undertaking in the local area (and how much money they'll pay you)

Then, eager to please (and make loadsamoney), you're off blasting down lowlifes and rescuing scientists in distress, and scouting asteroid fields and retrieving stolen artifacts, and delivering essential supplies to starved planetary citizens, and undertaking other randomised missions to increase your wealth, your ship capability and your reputation with the galaxy's established factions.

Ah, the factions. What fantastical ego-inflating experience would be complete without a crowd present to pass judgement upon you at every moment, and react accordingly?

Dependent on whether you'd scratched their back in the past, or totally pulverised it, computer-controlled faction members would either fly in to assist you in a fight, or make a point to pick one with you. If you had once rescued a terraform transport convoy from pirate attack, their organisation, their affiliates and the local space police would have approved of your actions (much to the pirates' distaste) and would be much more likely to answer your 911. Blow that convoy's ass up, and you score both the loot and a reputation as a badass space-pirate who don't take no shit from anybody - even tradesmen! Just don't be surprised when said tradesmen hire a squad of irritatingly persistent bounty hunters to come flocking down on your now-quite-valuable head.

Thus, you could change the game's Edison Trent into anything you wanted him to be. Make him a ruthless space-thug, or a naval war-hero. Make him a contraband smuggler, or an undercover officer. Every new occupation brought its share of new adventure, new friends, new enemies and a new perspective from just one side of the game's universe.

Oh, the hours I poured into that game. The many different personas I shaped for Edison Trent, the many different lowlifes I blasted down, the people I'd rescued, the asteroid fields I'd scouted, the- Ah, it's that planet I've seen before, still selling the same goods and still operated by the same organisation. Look over there, it's an under-construction trade lane - still just as under-construction as always. Oh hey, it's the nebula within which lies a pirate base that every single pilot in the sector knows about because that's where all the pirates seem to flock from to harass the system, and yet the damn Liberty Navy still hasn't done a damn thing about it!

It's when you've changed Edison Trent so many times, you realise you're merely recycling the same actor on the same stage, with the same characters, the same plot history and the same canonical universe.

It's when you've changed Edison Trent so many times, you realise the universe around him hasn't changed at all.



Originally, Chris Roberts had wanted to realise a virtual galaxy, whose systems executed their own programs regardless of the players' presence, yet allowed for player interference and interaction. Commodity prices in each star system would fluctuate, according to the activities of both the players and computer controlled traders, who import and export goods. Factional territories would shift based on the political, economical and militarist positions they held. Thousands of players simultaneously interacting with and influencing this world like never seen before.

Yet the real Freelancer's universe was comparably static. There was no sign of this dynamically fluctuating economy; the commodity prices never changed. The factions' territories never shifted despite the groups' frequent raids and attacks on each other. Besides the sliding reputation scales, your actions had zero effect on the universe around you. You could single-handedly shoot down eight dozen non-hostile ships unprovoked, and the evolution of Planetforming would still be frontpaging the system's 'News of the Day' without the slightest mention of your funked up rebellion against the virtual space society.

Ultimately? 1999 was just too soon for Freelancer. When developers 'Digital Anvil' were bought out by Microsoft in 2000, Roberts admitted that his team required large sums of money, which only a huge company could provide, to continue developing Freelancer with its "wildly ambitious" features and unpredictable schedule; the project had overshot its original development projection of three years by 18 whole months.

And with that, Microsoft instructed Digital Anvil to scale down the ambitions of the project and focus on finishing the game based on the team's strengths and what was possible with 20th century technology.



So now, more than a decade later, would Freelancer 2 truly be possible?

Even now, thousands of players continue to play in communities dedicated to expanding upon the Freelancer universe. Persistent galaxies governed by the politics of player-controlled factions, populated by thousands of individual players all with their own agendas and character backgrounds - Discovery, Crossfire and Freeworlds to name but a few.

Planetside confirmed that factional shifting territories are now possible; one of the single concepts that makes the 1000v1000 MMOFPS so appetising to gamers worldwide. Dynamic economies? Many MMOs with player-controlled markets have proven it can be done.

And what of the thousands of computer-controlled pilots with their identically American monotone voices, systematically constructed responses and dialogue and questionable pilot skills? Today, that's easy. You simply let real players take over the role.

So theoretically, Freelancer 2? Hell yeah. Bring the graphics up-to-speed, revisit the already-established Freelancer canon and lore and maybe use a few voice actors from outside the USA for a change. But the one fundamental improvement you could make upon Freelancer? The one improvement that the developers simply couldn't have hoped to achieve at its time?

You only have to revisit Chris Roberts' vision all those years ago.

Make it how it was intended to be.

"Well, sheeeyit! If it ain't the Cap'n, hisself! Mister Sarif done fixed you up good, ain't he? Give you a new set of glasses an' everything, daaaamn!"

Next time you find yourself in Detroit, 2027, make sure you say 'hi' to Letitia, one of Deus Ex': Human Revolution's most memorable and unique characters. You'll most likely find her digging through the trash scavenging anything that might help push her through another night living the Detroit streets. Tell her 'Blitzy says hello!' for me, will'ya?

For a handful of credits, she'll spill everything you need to know about the secret paths of the city, the access codes to Detroit P.D's sewer entrance and inform you of a few sneaky places around the back where you can get your grubby hands on some 'unlicensed firepower'. Everything a Jensen would need for a little trespassing and trouble-making around the city.

If we're talking character types, Letitia's the street-wise, street-living informant to the protagonist. You can see characters playing a similar role in Fallout: New Vegas (Giving you the laydown of Freeside and the important people and places in it), or Assassin's Creed (Many members of the 'Thieves' Guild' who'll give you information and assistance against the city guards).

She's a helpful lil' lady, that's fer sure.

That's not all though. While her information's solid, Letitia's real 'stand-out something' has to be her manner of speech. For me, I found her accent rather musical and intriguing to listen to. I enjoyed picking up on the particular phonetics and mannerisms in her dialogue; I wanted to hear more of the 'pecifics.

"Didn't think I'd see YOU walking this boulevard anytime soon, that's fer sure. Not afta what happened six months ago. People's said you's dowwwwwwwwwwwn for the count!"

Oh, I loved it. I guess it really brought out the linguistics fanatic in me. I'd spent my college years closely analysing different accents and manners of speech across many of the British regions and I'd been fascinated by what makes our characters and language so different yet so individualistic.

I guess her dialect could best be catagorised as 'Southern Black Caricature', although my only knowledge of that particular dialect stems from the media I've consumed as a British boy. Either way, I enjoyed the character and made sure to tell all my friends currently playing through Deus Ex: Human Revolution to make a point of talking to her just so I could get their reaction to her character.

Not once did my friends ever tell me that they believed Letitia's character was 'racist'.


Sorry, Rotface. Internet says you ain't allowed to be in my game. You're different.

Unbeknown to me at the time, 'racist' was exactly what lay on critics' minds after speaking with the lady.

"Letitia's a really bad part of a really good game. When lead character Adam Jensen encounters her in Detroit, she's picking through the trash. It becomes clear that she's an informant from Jensen's police days and, as their conversation continues, she gives Jensen a few hints and a general sense of the mood of the city. Letitia's horrible character design doesn't stop you from exploring the cyberpunk world of 2027. Instead, she makes you wonder about how she even came into existence." - Evan Narcisse, Techland

"You really do have to see the video in action to get a sense of why it's so offensive; indeed, if I were to sit someone down (particularly a black friend) and watch them play this segment, I'd squirm at every line. Letitia certainly sounds nothing like the other hobos that dot the Detroit map, and her initial greeting ("Well, Sheeeeeit. If it ain't the Cap'n hisself!") is utterly cringe inducing." - Kirk Hamilton, Kotaku

Alright, before I get going - I clearly understand and accept that links can be made between Letitia's persona and a reason for why her character design could be considered racist. I understand that her broken English could be a demerit to her intelligence; her use of slang could be likened back to the 'blackface minstrelsy of the last century'.

However, there's a particular side to this debate that I cannot seem to comprehend. There's one side of this argument I could really use your help, comments, criticisms and general feedback on.

I just don't understand why we need to publicly declare this connection.

There are three aspects of this issue in particular that I'm unsure about:

Why is she deemed racially offensive?

Now I acknowledge the one possibility that Letitia could be considered racially offensive because of her skin colour and perhaps there would no longer be a problem if the character was Caucasian. She would simply be another member of lower-class in that scenario and that would be acceptable. But would it?

Think about it. Are we no longer allowed to feature lower-class people in our media if they're black? Is there not a single homeless black person in Detroit who speaks in a Southern Black caricuture? Surely that's just a little too large a blanket of exaggeration?

Unfortunately, the boundaries of my bafflement do not cease there. My confusion just catapults further when I discovered that several of my black friends also failed to find offense from it. Yet according to some critics. aren't these the people this content is supposed to be offending?

I understand that one do not necessarily need to belong to a particular ethnic group to find material racially offensive, but I'm worried we might possibly be taking this too far. It's as if a rather brash handful of white people these days feel obligated to be racially offended on behalf of all black people whenever they see the slightest connection between being of black skin colour and having a particular characterful flaw or two. But why must we feel the need to do this?

If you placed Letitia alongside the racial denotations of blackface minstrels, or those that featured in 20th century media ala 'Amos and Andy', you would not have to stretch far to find similarities between the two. I don't disagree that they're certainly influences on the character; I just don't see the reason why they must therefore be taken as complete identicals in their design, purpose and reason for inclusion in their respective media.

The point is - I highly doubt that Letitia (one sole characer) was featured in Deus Ex to negatively portray all people of black ethnic origin. I personally think she was featured because she'd make a cheap link to a rather huggable character 'bear'ing a similar relationship to the protagonist that may or may not have featured in a certain 70's cop show.



This certainly isn't the first time such a topic has found such publicity regarding race in our video games. Do you remember the uproar about black zombies in Resident Evil 5, regarding the idea that black people portrayed as zombies would denote their entire ethnic origin as mindless, shambling monsters? Ergo, it is therefore wrong to set a zombie game in Africa?

Why must we make this link? Would anyone feel the same if they were white? Would anyone claim white zombies reflected so badly on all Caucasians in the world? Why is it acceptable for people of one ethnicity to be represented as zombies (despite any connotations that carries) and not another?

I just don't get it. I struggle to understand why we must disapprove of characters purely based on their skin colour. I struggle to accept why Internet has a problem when people belonging to this ethnic group are featured in a spotlight that only members of that ethnic group would be acceptable in. It's just all so...ironic.

If I'm not serving this topic the justice it deserves, I would highly encourage you to refer to the words of the inspiring A-list actor, Morgan Freeman. When asked 'how do we stop racism?', he answered:

"Stop talking about it. I`m going to stop calling you a white man. And I`m going to ask you to stop calling me a black man'. - when asked how to get rid of racism in an interview with Mike Wallace on "60 Minutes" (1968)



Morgan Freeman on Racism: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z2d2SzRZvsQ

In this instance, Mr. Freeman was opposing the concept of a 'Black History Month' in America, branding it ridiculous and arguing that Black History was American History. My point is relatively similar. Can we not just take Letitia for what she is - a character in a video game - without immediately drawing connections to all the negativity that might possibly hold a similarity to her?

Why should/shouldn't she exist in this game?

I've been spectating the arguments around this issue in YouTube comments and across the Internet's numerous gaming websites and there's one solid fact that's made clear throughout: there are many people in real life, be they in Detroit, Brooklyn or anywhere else in the world, that do speak like Letitia's character. It's a stereotype for a reason, right? It's typical of how a collective group of people act and speak?

Yet if this is the case; if there are genuinely people in the world that genuinely speak (and choose to speak) like this in real life, then should we deny them the right to be represented in our media purely because there's a potential link between them and something that once portrayed that group of people negatively? From this writer's perspective, I worry that if we did ban such characters in our media, we might then be guilty of failing to represent an existing real-life group of people in our media. The question is, which issue is worse?

You could argue (and I'd certainly agree with you) that basing a character solely around a stereotype is cheap, easy and certainly not quite the innovation we'd prefer to see in this medium. In that respect, yeah, I'd see your point and I'd understand your criticism on her character.

However, my issue is when critics outrightly deny that people like Letitia exist in the world, brandish her racist and refuse to accept people like her in the medium.

It is their argument that people who can potentially be grouped into these stereotypes should not be featured in our games which confuses me, because it's clear that these people do exist in the real world. We sit alongside them on our daily commutes. We celebrate together on New Year's. To try and judge which groups of people should and should not feature in our media based on the potential links between them and respective stereotypes that they may not like only persuades me to believe that the actual racists would be those attempting to do the judging.

So what's the deal here? Are we saying these people aren't allowed to be in our media because some people out there believe these people do not signify the black people we believe SHOULD feature in our media? I might be missing the point entirely, but surely that in itself is racism? Is there something I'm missing here?

I'm not saying I'm oblivious to the issue, I just can't see why we feel the need to make it one. I'd understand why this would be a valid criticism of the game if Letitia's character was the sole personification of black people in the game but the problematic snag is she's not! In this light, why is Letitia herself such a massive problem?

"Some people reading this might counter with, "Ok, fine, Letitia's just a poorly drawn character. What's the harm in that? Weak character construction isn't racist." But it's what this particular weak character construction draws on that makes it so appalling. Making her a black, jive-talking street person echoes decades of racist imagery about poor African-Americans. That imagery's said that blacks are too inherently dumb, lazy or foreign to America to share in the American Dream. It's "those people, they're not like us" talk." - Evan Narcisse, Techland

This brings me back to my primary focus:

Why must we publicly isolate and identify this connection?

I'm particularly curious; where does the racial offense stem from? Is it that Letitia herself is racially offensive, or is it that a connection can be made between her and some other form of racially derogatory material?

I perfectly understand that a black, jive-talking street person might echo decades of racist imagery about poor African-Americans if one chooses to compare the two, but must we throw up the racist card based on the possibility of such a connection? Now, it's cool to not approve of the voice actress and have your own opinion about that; I personally think she sounds maybe a bit too old for her visual image but to profoundly claim that her manner of speech is racist? That's not exactly an opinion anymore; that appears to stand as a statement.

Just because one person finds one character racially offensive doesn't necessarily mean I have to find it racially offense, right? Or the millions of people, whatever their skin colour, who live in our world alongside us?

It's not necessarily the concept of 'finding a character racially offensive' that I have concern with. If someone chooses to make the connection between the material and a derogatory stereotype and that is the root of the offense, I can accept and respect that. That person came to such an opinion based on their own experiences and beliefs and wasn't instructed by anyone else to feel that way.

I think my problem is with the concept of 'branding a character racist' especially in headlining articles. Outrightly stating that a single character portrays their entire ethnic group in a negative light in such a factual manner bewilders me because it leaves no room for opinion or reflection - nor does this take into account the weaknesses involved when attempting to compare a single, solitary character to an ethnicity's entire populous. It appears to claim that the character's design and purpose is specifically for racial derogation, rather than point out that a connection can be made between the character and another more appropriately proportioned example of racially derogatory material. The audience is being told that the character is racially offensive rather than they being advised on the potential stereotypical links that would allow the audience to make their own mind up about the matter.

The root of my concern is therefore when one person's opinion is stated in a factual manner, and is done so to be interpreted as such.



In summary, I completely accept criticism of Letitia based on her character and persona. Go nuts on that one. I just don't understand why certain members of the Internet seem to assault characters purely by stretching links between their race/gender/age and anything remotely similar that potentially portrays that group in a negative light. More so when the problem is with a single, solitary character - taken from a game with dozens of other characters from the same ethnic origin that do not match that stereotype.

Sure, Letitia's not the most original, well-acted or well-designed character in the gaming world. Even I can clearly see why she'd grate on your ears perhaps, or why she's 'just another cheap and easy character design'. You might find her out-of-place in comparison to the other characters; you might find the pairing of pidgin English with her dashings of intellectual lexis downright peculiar but c'mon...

To outrightly label one character and her designers racist because it's simply possible to find them racially offensive if one chose to connect those dots?

Help me out, dear readers, because I must be missing the point.

[Sidenote: Square Enix has issued the following statement on the matter: "Deus Ex: Human Revolution is a fictional story which reflects the diversity of the world's future population by featuring characters of various cultural and socioeconomic backgrounds. While these characters are meant to portray people living in the year 2027, it has never been our intention to represent any particular ethnic group in a negative light."]

I'd like to talk to you about my gaming nemesis.

This is a story about a player that always gets in my way. A player that strives to spoil my plans for server domination; a player that shows up to strike me down when everything was going so well without them around. A player that can seemingly predict my every move and I know the S.O.A.B is targetting me and me alone solely to make my gaming life hell.

nem·e·sis  (nem-uh-sis)
1. something that a person cannot conquer, achieve, etc.: The performance test proved to be my nemesis.
2. an opponent or rival whom a person cannot best or overcome.

Unfortunately, this is not a rant about some random doucebag who has a problem with my ancestry, playstle or personal hygiene. This is not a tale about a suspected hacker under the alias "xXx1337shadowninjasniperxXx". I wish, for the sake of dignity, this article was about my housemate or fellow clan member and yet it pains me to clarify that it is not.

This is a story about my girlfriend.

In Team Fortress 2, I play a mean Spy. I've racked up ~700 hours in the class and specialise in slick stairstabs, sneaky sabotage and super style. I'm no stranger to the top of the scoreboard; I've dominated my fair share of players and have had more guys scream my name at the top of their voice than I'm comfortable with. I'm not one to blow my own trumpet, dear reader-person, but let's just say I'm good. Very good. No-one stands up to my knife. No-one gets in my way...

Except her.

Now when I met my significant other, I thought it was a dream come true. I'd found a girl who shared the same passion for gaming as I did. She enjoyed the same games and understands the same quotes and memes that would be lost on any other female human in my social circle. We'd stay up all night and play Portal 2 together. We'd quote Team Fortress 2 domination lines. We'd take Mario Kart way too seriously, and wouldn't rest until we'd outlevelled the other in our current MMO flavour-of-the-week. I was ecstatic. I had a gamer girlfriend. I was in heaven.

The icing on the cake was that we both favoured Team Fortress 2, and we played on the same servers. Oh, everything was so right. Oh, nothing could go wrong with this girl.

Imagine my facewhen I discover my gamer girlfriend mains a mumbling, mouth-breathing, mouse-one'ing Pyro in TF2; the arch-enemy to my favourite primary class.


Pyrogirl. She's good. Very good.

We've all been truly dominated at some point in our gaming lives. We've all encountered a player we couldn't best or overcome no matter how well the odds were stacked in our favour. Fortunately, we can always swap servers or block that person from our instant messaging or matchmaker. We can shrug off their attacks on our playstyle and skill because it's so obvious they were hacking.

Have pity on me, dear reader. I'm not allowed to swap servers because my girlfriend will just follow me like the lovely (read: horrible) Pyrogirl she is. I'm not allowed to accuse my girlfriend of hacking because I'm fully aware that she isn't; I've played on her computer.

It's not that I'm particularly bad or she's particularly good - we're both at a very similar playing level. The problem is, I made the mistake of allowing Pyrogirl to 'get to know me' and now I'm paying the price. When I told her stories of my Spying prowess, explained how I act as a Sniper and dodge friendly fire to get closer to the enemy sentry nests or recommended my favourite Spy hiding spots for her to use whenever she played Spy, I wanted her to simply be impressed. I wanted her to share some stories about being an awesome Pyro, teach me how to pull off the 'puff-and-sting' technique that she's mastered over time.

I just wanted to dabble in some lovey-dovey gaming-related chit-chat. I didn't expect the damn Pyrogirl to note down everything I said and exploit it to predict my every move, every thought, every target and every position! No longer can I take down the ubercharged enemy medic, because Pyrogirl's constantly shielding them with her stupid flames. I cannot take down an enemy sentry nest anymore because Pyrogirl's sitting there with her damned Homewrecker, waiting to roast some Spies (read: me) on her 'campfire'. I can't even escape from a successful chainstabbing spree these days without Pyrogirl's fire licking at my heels!

My permanently spychecking girlfriend refuses to let me be the awesome Spy I used to be!


Why, oh why, does my girlfriend have to play Pyro?!

Now I'll be the first to admit, I'm a teeny-weeny bit biased, reader-person. I don't have the fondest of feelings for Pyros; running around the maps, spraying their stupid streams of fire from their stupid flamethrowers. Enveloping teammate after teammate in fire just to see if they'll ignite, regardless of how suspicious they are or even if they're firing their weapons or healing people - the mindless morons. I mean, the most experienced Spy can calculate the finest angle of approach, dodge every bomb and rocket spammed in his direction and position himself out of sight of everyone - only to have some simpleton Pyro come out of nowhere with his finger firmly pressed on MOUSE1, vetoing everything that poor Spy accomplished just to get behind enemy lines.

To summarise, 'Pyros do not like Spies. Spies do not like Pyros. The two classes do not get along well together.'

I know this damn well. I've spent 700 hours avoiding Pyros like the plague. I've grown to fear the flicker of fire, I flinch whenever I hear a flamethrower within 100 virtual units of my location. If such a term existed, I suffer from a serious case of 'Pyrophobia'.

I make a point of keeping Pyros as far away from me as humanly possible. On the other hand, Pyrogirlfriend loves being close to her Spyboyfriend. Just a bit too close for comfort.

"I just want to give you a firehug, Blitzy!", she claims innocently. "I just want to show you how much I love you!" Pfft, yeah right. More like you just want to reduce my poor, pitiful spyself to virtual dust. :'(

So that's basically where Pyrogirl and I are currently at in our relationship presently. I can predict where she's going to be, who she's going to be protecting and where I should avoid because she's predicted where I want to be, who I want to kill and where I'm going to be because I'm avoiding the location she's currently in.

It's like your grandma kicking your ass in Call of Duty, or your little sister lapping you three times over in Burnout. It's the unthinkable; it's the impossible! It's the ultimate mark of gaming shame, and right now, I'm pretty damn ashamed of myself. I'm tired of being dominated by my girlfriend in my favourite game! This is supposed to be the game I'm best at! The one game I can play without fear of being pwned or decimated because I'm the one that's supposed to be doing the pwning!

Not my girlfriend!

Now don't get me wrong! I'll admit that being in a relationship with a Pyrogirl does have its advantages at times, provided you're on the same team. A pyro never extinguishes a burning, friendly Spy; it's an unwritten rule - except when your partner's a Pyrogirl who makes a point of blowing the flames right off your burning self. You know you can sap a sentry nest and flee, knowing Pyrogirl's right around the corner ready to scorch that sentry nest till there's nothing but smoldering scrap left. It's great having your own guardian arsonist keeping you safe and sound from stray rockets hurtling in your direction. It's a beautiful thing to witness when Pyrogirl airblasts an enemy towards Spyboy, and Spyboy catches them with his knife. In their back.



I do enjoy playing 'Catch' with my Pyrogirl. Particularly when the ball's a living, breathing enemy.

But when your Pyrogirl's on the opposite team, all hell breaks loose. Before you know it, the love of your life who was once keeping your enemies at bay is now constantly getting in your way. Your significant other now strives to spoil your plans for server domination; your other half now shows up to strike you down when everything was going so well without them around. Your stupid Pyrogirl can predict your every move and you know she's targetting you and you alone solely to make your gaming life hell.

I made the mistake of softening up. I made the mistake of sharing my weaknesses, my pitfalls, my counters to my partner. I made the mistake of being dominated by my girlfriend in TF2.

Don't make the same mistake!
Take my advice, reader-person!

Never let your guard down, not even to the person you love most in the world!
Never reveal your secrets!
Never teach them your ways!

Your significant other won't love you any more for it, they won't appreciate your advice or be grateful for sharing these experiences with them!

They'll use it against you!
They'll exploit it!
They'll analyse your every hint and tip and turn it into a counter-strike against you!

All joking aside, I'm pretty fond of my Pyrogirl really. I love the time we spend together. I love the fact we can share a passion for gaming together. I love how well we work together and how attentive we are to eachother's safety and wellbeing. Deep down, I love the challenge of avoiding and dodging a player who's learned how to predict my every move.

But there's one thing I don't love, reader-person. There's one thing you need to keep in mind the next time you think about showing your partner how to play Team Fortress, Starcraft or Super Smash Bros.

I don't love being dominated by my girlfriend. Again.