Research in Progress
Something in a game gets under my skin — that’s usually where these projects start. Research is where those reactions live while they’re still taking shape — the raw thinking behind the writing, for anyone who’s ever wanted to know what a researcher actually does with all those feelings games give them.
Most of these follow the same pattern: I notice the reaction and want to understand why — affect theory is often the most useful lens, but plenty of other ideas and notions from media and game studies can prove just as helpful.
Detroit: Become Human — Why Some Games Are Too Much
This one hit hard enough that I couldn’t finish it — and I knew exactly why. Yet I found myself wondering why it affected me so strongly. Detroit: Become Human is built to make us empathize with its three android protagonists rather than the humans around them, and it worked. I felt for Kara from the moment her abusive owner picked her up from the repair shop. I felt for Marcus the moment he woke after being shot and left for dead. Knowing the mechanism didn’t blunt its effect. By the time Kara reached a certain house late in the game, the emotional weight had become more than I wanted to carry, and I stopped playing.
This project explores what it means for a game to become too emotionally intense to keep playing — not because of its mechanics, but because of what it asks us to feel. It also asks a broader question: why doesn’t understanding a game’s emotional design make us any less susceptible to it?
Guardians of the Galaxy vs. Mass Effect — Same Stakes, Different Feeling
Guardians of the Galaxy and Mass Effect share comparable stakes: a small crew standing against an overwhelming, cosmic-scale threat to the entire galaxy. Yet they couldn’t feel more different. Where Mass Effect embraces the weight of that threat, Guardians of the Galaxy constantly offsets it with warmth and humor. I caught myself thinking, more than once, that if this story somehow unfolded in the Mass Effect universe, it would be an absolute blast.
This project explores what that difference in tone does to the player experience — why two games with comparable stakes can leave you feeling completely different things?
Mass Effect 2 vs. Andromeda — Why the "Worse" Game Might Be the Better One
I want to like — even love — Mass Effect 2. I really do. It’s one of the most critically acclaimed sci-fi action RPGs ever made. And yet something about the world it creates slowly started pushing me away. The game begins in bright, polished places like the Citadel, but as the journey continues, its atmosphere grows increasingly darker and more unsettling. Jack’s breakout was the first moment where I felt that shift clearly, and by the time I reached the derelict outpost and encountered the horrors surrounding the Collectors, I found myself thinking: I don’t want to know where this is heading. I stopped playing at exactly the same point — twice, years apart.
Andromeda has just as many dark moments, but they are spaced out, smaller in dose, and framed by brighter visuals and a more optimistic tone. This project explores how much of a game’s emotional impact comes from the world it creates — its visual style, pacing, and overall mood — not just the events of its story.
What Tends To End Up Here
- Sci-fi and cyberpunk, mostly — but she's just as likely to fall for a sword-swinging fantasy RPG or an RPG shooter.
- A soft spot for found-family crews facing a galaxy-sized problem, wherever that shows up.
- The occasional sim, 4X or grand strategy title, or obscure indie game round things out.
- Horror is a hard no — she simply can't stomach it. Some reactions aren't worth chasing.