Here’s the truth, one of my favorite activities in Mass Effect 2 is trying to get into the pants of Yeoman Chambers. She’s the adorable little brunette deckhand who is always telling me when I have messages at my terminal. As well, she always seems to find a reason to be slightly bent over her own computer, inviting the inevitable stare at her bum.
Through one and a half playthroughs of the game, I ain’t had sex with no one. Eerily, this game echoes the majority of my real life. When I first stepped aboard the Normany, I was DTF, man. Down. To. Fuck. I was macking on everyone like I was going to die tomorrow. I was dropping all sorts of sexy cavalier poems in the hopes of getting everyone to see just how fleeting this beautiful life was. We ain’t got time for jibber-jabber, we gotta fuck! I’m poetical, fuck!
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.
Carpe diem? I need to carpe that ass!
I think I overplayed my hand, though. I rolled up aboard the Normandy, and I was practically dry-humping the FTL console. Krogans, quarians, men, women, tentacles, it didn’t matter. I wanted that shit. And for that, I will pay the ultimate consequence; Kelly Chambers, obviously of a high quality of virtue and not to be a pawn, won’t talk to me no moh’.
Now? Now I’m stuck probably hate-fucking Jacob. Yeah, I’m playing as a chick, what of it? I’m typical, man. I’m just a dude, who secretly wishes he was a lesbian. I’m like, you know, the other zillion fanboys out there. Jacob’s a nice guy and all, but he really doesn’t do anything for me. Maybe because he looks like Kanye West, or maybe because he’s a void of emotion. Listen, Jacob. I know I hit the town like a fucking gangbuster, and I was practically salivating at the crotch bulge of your super-space-suit, but fuck man, I need to snuggle with whoever I’m tappin’. I know if I settle down with you for some fluid-sloshing, you’re just going to be back in the armory in like ten minutes.
I AM NOT AN OBJECT. Well, I might be, but that’s not all I am.
I’m not going to be complete until I finally consummate my thang with Yeoman Chambers. I don’t care how many playthroughs it takes. I’ll reform. I’ll stop trying to get Thane to meet me in the women’s restroom. Honest. I promise. Because you’re special, Kelly. The rest of those humans, aliens, and artificial lifeforms I’ve been trying to fuck? They’ve just been there to try and take you off my mind.