Before I was a professional, full-time game journalist, I was just a freelance writer who liked writing about video games and wanted to do more of it. Most of my income didn’t come from games journalism – it came from writing scripts for videos, profiles on community leaders for government websites, and once, writing an episode of an audio drama. When gaming was a hobby instead of a job, I couldn’t justify the cost of upgrading from my old PS4, even though it was on its last legs. I had a decent PC, and that was enough for me, even though I hate sitting at my desk for extended periods.
Getting a full-time position writing about games meant that, necessarily, I would have to play far more games. That also meant that I would be sitting in front of my PC way more than I already was because that would be my primary way to play all the new games that piqued my interest. That sounded like hell to me. Just a few months into the job, I gave in and decided to splurge on an Xbox Series X. At the very least, it’ll come out of my taxable income, I told myself, which means I’ve actually saved money on income tax by getting myself something I needed for work anyway. I believe Gen Z calls this girl math.
Baldur’s Gate 3 On Xbox Is The Perfect Chance To Start All Over Again
A fresh start, a new character, new choices: take Baldur’s Gate 3’s Xbox port is the perfect chance to start that second playthrough
You’d think, considering I needed a current-gen console for my job, that my purchase would have benefited me the most. You’d be extremely wrong. You see, I made the mistake of making a conscious effort to get my partner into gaming. I thought it would be nice to have a common hobby we could share that was a little less passive than watching movies, but less active than going to the gym together. So, years ago, I bought him a second-hand PS4 for his birthday.
He proceeded to get so sucked into God of War, Ratchet & Clank, and Ghost of Tsushima that I worried he would never want to leave the house and do other things ever again. Thankfully, he eventually emerged from the hole and developed a normal, healthy, non-codependent relationship with his PS4 controller, and over the years, we’ve played many single-player games in tandem so we could compare notes.
Since then, we’ve started living together. You see where I’m going with this. My job rules for me, because I get to write about one of the biggest and most interesting industries in entertainment right now, and my hobby feeds into my professional knowledge. My job also rules for him, because he gets to play every game I buy, on a console he didn’t have to pay for. I’m not bitter about it, mind you – in the end, we’re still getting to share a hobby I love, I was going to be spending that money anyway, and I get to bounce potential pitches about the game I’m playing off somebody who’s also played the game. I just wish he’d do it on his own Xbox profile.
FOMO Will Be The Death of Me
I didn’t know Xbox had an Xbox wrapped, or I would’ve nagged him more about it. It’s a small thing, really, not big enough to make a fuss about, but I’ve reminded him a few times over the year to play games on his own profile so the save data doesn’t end up getting overwritten if I start a new game for whatever reason. He tends to forget, which, again, is not a big deal. Except he ruined my Xbox wrapped, and I’m heartbroken about it.
I love an end-of-year data analysis. Looking at and judging everybody’s Spotify wrapped is usually a highlight of my December, because I’m snooty about music. (So snooty, in fact, that I recently switched to Tidal, which doesn’t have an end-of-year summary – this recently discovered tragedy left me incandescent with FOMO when Wrapped day rolled around this year.) When I discovered I could share my own gaming stats, I thought, finally, I can nip my fear of missing out in the bud. And then I saw the stats, and I balked. I’d apparently spent over 70 hours in Star Wars Jedi: Survivor, and my third most played game is Dead Cells.
I have never played a game of Dead Cells in my life. I probably never will, now that thinking of it makes me mad.
I realised then that my partner’s playthrough of Jedi: Survivor had been on my account, as had the many nights of Dead Cells runs he’d done while I was finishing up my articles for the day. He’d thoroughly corrupted my stats, meaning I had no idea what my actual hours played were, how many achievements I’d accumulated, or what my real most played games were. My best guess is that Diablo 4 was the real first place, since it came in second. This would be far less surprising to me, considering just how much time I spent hanging out virtually with my friends in Sanctuary. Once again, my dreams of sharing a graphical analysis of the data a company has accumulated about me over a year have been foiled. I’ve never gotten to do a Spotify Wrapped, okay? I’ve always used other services.
I’m contemplating doing something truly evil in retaliation: similarly corrupting his Spotify stats. It would be easy. I’d just wait for him to fall asleep at night, then choose music he doesn’t usually listen to and play it on loop at zero volume until he wakes up. His top artist being Taylor Swift would be very confusing for him. Or even worse, I’ll pick something he does like and play that instead, so that he starts to question his conception of time and wondering if he can trust his own senses. Or maybe, just maybe, I’ll politely bring it up in conversation and then quickly get over it, like normal adults do about minor inconveniences. I haven’t decided yet. Maybe I’ll wait to see what he gets me for Christmas first.
I’m Not Going Back To Baldur’s Gate 3 Until It Comes Out On Xbox
I am finishing this game in bed or not at all.