Time to make a custom character.
I would rather play a Turian-Salarian monster hybrid than these presets.
There are no options for different eyes. I guess these are my eyes.
There are no options for different mouths. I guess this is my mouth.
I will just change the size and color of these things and pretend that is sufficient.
Nevermind, I’ll just play default Ryder but not be able to put any of these cool tattoos on her.
She has already disappointed me.
Why do I have to choose Commander Shepard’s gender?
Could it be…?!
“Commander Shepard was female.”
Well, guess she’s dead. Moving on.
Meeting the Crew
Alright, which of you can I romance?
Is this that Natalie Dormer from Game of Thrones?
Yes, yes it is.
Is that Kumail Nanjiani from Silicon Valley? Yes.
Really, Mass Effect has always been the HBO of video games.
I definitely got this job through nepotism and this lady definitely hates me for it.
At least none of you are weird space racists (looking at you, Ashley).
Yes, hello Captain, please show me to your nearest Turian and/or calibration station.
There’s a new EDI and his name is SAM.
*scans room* Which one of you suckers is going to fall in love with SAM?
I feel like none of these speech choices are doing much.
Is it really a conversation choice if my face skin doesn’t tear open every time I’m mean?
My Dad doesn’t love me.
Oh, I mean my in-game Dad.
Wow, that was almost weird there.
Everyone in this game just got home from a Botox appointment.
I’ve seen more empathy from the eyes of my (possessed as hell-looking) Furby.
Hey, this person’s face is actually super realistic.
Aaaaand they’re dead.
They are probably conveying more emotion on their face, right now in their coffin, than this actually living woman.
Cool, I can scan plants and animals and tech for points.
Cool, there are five billion pieces of plant and metal on this giant planet.
I appreciate the addition of jumping to the game.
I appreciate it less now that I’ve spent 15 minutes trying to jet-boost up a mountain that did not want my body on it.
Combat feels great.
Alright, how do I put my weapon away so I can stop magnet attaching myself to every wall (AKA a cover system).
Ah, hello V button, my new best friend.
I may have discovered this epic ground pound combo accidentally, but you know what, penicillin was an accident too.
I just want a shotgun.
In lieu of a shotgun, I will stab things repeatedly.
My squad seems competent. 10x more useful than Ashley, at least.
And finally, a breakdancing alien corpse.