I set the controller down and looked at my computer screen. Up to this point in Undertale, there had been hints that the character –the one I named Chara–was referred to with neutral pronouns. But I didn’t think it would carry. And yet, here we were. A direct character interaction. And for Chara, they used “they.”
This affirmation on screen that people like me exist filled me with determination.
In the Beginning…
In my last post I talked about my struggle to find representation in video games as a nonbinary person. I discussed how games define gender, adhere to gender structure through limited outfits or pronouns choices, as well as limited protagonists, and how avatar creation is making steps towards progress but acknowledged that we have a lot more work to do. Community members provided suggestions, such as Sunless Sea and the Saints Row series, that allow for some representation, but they also pointed out some problems with the representation as well.
I heard of Undertale some time ago from my friends, but just recently downloaded it. I stared at the little heart icon on my desktop for quite a while before I got around to actually playing it. Engineering Life does that sometimes.
I started the game and made the mistake of naming my character “Frisk.” This, unbeknownst to me, activates some sort of incredibly hard mode that may or may not actually be beatable. Needless to say, I had to start over and this delayed my drive to play the game. Despite what I’ve said about how much I love playing Dark Souls, I really don’t like being reminded that I’m a constant failure by my video games. Life does that enough.
But I started over, named the main character “Chara” and kept going. Because my friends said I should give it another chance and because I’ve heard minimal complaints about this game. Because I was interested in the story and because something about it gave me comfort.
My playthrough of Undertale has given rise to two joke hashtags and I am loath to admit using a hashtag unironically. But my good friend and I have started cataloging my playthrough under the tags #alwayslevel1 and #only20health. Because, if it hasn’t been apparent already, I’m doing a True Pacifist run. Or at least trying to. Even if I don’t get the True Pacifist ending on my first go, no one’s dying on my watch.
My watch. Not Chara’s. This game has made it very difficult to not see the player character as a reflection of myself. I can normally make a divide. Porcyln, my avatar character in Dark Souls , killed a merchant for his katana, because she (not me!) didn’t want to wait for the point in the game where she (not me!) could buy it. Roin, the name I give to my male avatar Pokemon Trainers, always picks Fire Types for his starting pokemon (Syeli, the female avatar, also picks fire, but runs an Eevee team whenever possible). The female mayor in Animal Crossing: New Leaf plants flowers and picks up garbage and fishes. My female elf mage Zyxae is going to save the world and fight a really big dragon in Dragon Age: Origins. Their choices represent what their character persona is to me, but those choices don’t always line up with what I would do if presented with the same set of choices. Sometimes they are–I have a lot of trouble playing “evil” storylines that involve unnecessary hurt, for example–but not always. I distance myself from games more easily because I do not see myself fully reflected on screen.
One of my classmates confessed to this phenomenon, and I want to make mention of that. We were discussing the importance of multi-option avatars in RPGs, and he mentioned that he couldn’t connect with a female avatar as well as a male one, so he was glad the option was available. My initial reaction was to scoff at this–because, I mean, women, transpeople, and people of color have to do connect with an avatar that doesn’t reflect them all the time when they play games.
Then I played a game where I was actually represented on screen and well…Okay, classmate, I see your point. Damn, it’s nice.
Who you are, not what.
Undertale represents an interesting opportunity. Some people are assigned gender throughout the game, but the “fallen humans” and the player character are not. It’s left completely to the player’s discretion what gender to assign to the character, if any. The people (I use the term loosely because I’m describing goats, skeletons, and a fish knight) you meet never use any pronoun but “they.” I am sure that some players view Chara as female, others as male. But to me, we have a gender neutral character, and it’s great.
Sure, Undertale flies in the face of “typical” RPGs, because you can beat this game without killing anyone or anything (I did). Sometimes, you have to fight, but you can always show mercy and kindness in the end. Forgiveness. Understanding. The big bad isn’t some evil king or despondent scientist. I’m pretty sure he’s a flower. Most everyone is justified in their actions in some way, and not the Machiavellian ends-justify-the-means sort of way.
There’s positive LGBTQ+ representation in other ways as well. Two female-identified characters, Undyne and Dr. Alphys, once you get to know them (ie: don’t kill them), admit to having crushes on each other, and the player character can help them realize their feelings. This relationship might also be interpreted as polyamorous if you throw Papyrus into the mix. I don’t know. Regardless, it’s cute. But the relationship between Undyne and Dr. Alphys is treated completely normal (if not kind of “well duh, everyone knew but you two!”). The River Person, when introducing themselves, says “I’m the riverman. Or am I the riverwoman…? It doesn’t really matter,” showing that gender identity is not particularly important to them, but their job (“I love to ride my boat. Would you care to join me?”) is.
It is also widely speculated that Mettaton might be a representation of someone transitioning, from female to male, should we take the fact that his ghost and house is pink but he uses male pronouns and his ideal body is male presenting (but also a robot..)
I think it’s important to note something about Undertale, the judgment passed on you by the people in the world has nothing to do with your identity. Not your clothes, not your sexual orientation, not your creed, not your gender. The only judgement that is passed on you comes from your actions. The way you interacted with people. Who you let live, who you let die. Who you befriended. Your capabilities for tenderness, kindness, and compassion. That’s what you’re judged on.
Me and My Choices
With Chara, because they now represented me, my choices and theirs became hard to distinguish. Granted, I have not fallen down a hole into a thriving but imprisoned society of Monsters, trapped in the Underground by Humans. So I’ve never had the experiences Chara went through during the game. But maybe I have, just not…literally.
The choices became “Chara and I” or just “me.” When the game said “You,” I took it to mean me literally. This was, if nothing else, a reflection back to me.
Props to those people who can, at this point, still look at Undertale as “just another game” and can do a genocide run without feeling bad about it. You have a level of disconnect I will never achieve. Because I’d reached this level of personal connection, despite taking a pacifist approach, the game began to get very difficult emotionally. I “fought” hate, misunderstanding, and fear with “mercy,” choosing to spare my “enemies” and reach an understanding between us instead of (physically) fighting back.
You know…kind of like activism?
And because when you fight, your “soul”– that pixel heart that is, in essence, you– is what takes the hits, takes damage until you (if you’re like me) die, the fights start to morph. What if spears and bombs and rocks that are thrown at your “soul” are like the words, the microaggressions, the hate and bias people exhibit every day? The first few times, just the words, it may not hurt as bad. You can keep going. But the more and more you experience it, the less you can go on.
And then your heart breaks.
When I died in Undertale, there was always someone saying “Stay Determined!” It was never, you died, try again. It was always “you can do it, we believe in you.” The voices of allies and advocates reminding you to soldier on even when things seemed impossible.
“Soul” Determination
It’s the final battle, and I’m fighting some sort of Eldritch Horror which I can’t possibly begin to describe but yes, Mr. Lovecraft, it has an unusual amount of eyes. The fight is hard enough because I can’t look at the boss too long without being creeped out, and there’s a lot going on.
The boss is yelling at me. Reminding me that I’m fighting alone. That no one will come for me.
I die. I stare down at my hands, visibly shaken. “I can’t do this alone,” I whisper, even as I load the game to try again.
“You’re not alone,” my partner reminds me. “I’m right here.”
In the game, my call for help is answered. Chara’s not alone either. We overcome the boss, Chara, and I. I show mercy–I have to. The game “ends,” opening me up to the route to replay for True Pacifist status.
I set down my controller, look at my partner, and smile.
“I hurt,” I say. And then I start to cry.
—
Determination, in Undertale, is the culmination of the will to live and the power to set your own path. Depending on the route you play, it might also be your willingness to hold course and do the right (or wrong?) thing. Regardless, the point of the game is to show that, because you have a soul, you are filled with Determination.
Right before the end of the game, your determination is put into question, and your actions face judgement. I won’t say who judges you, or why, but I want to highlight a comment that the person doing the judgement says:
“The more you distance yourself, the less you will hurt. The more easily you can bring yourself to hurt others.”
That was hard to read. Because it’s true, isn’t it? The more distance from anything, the less it hurts you to do or say anything.
It reminds me of the cruel things that people will say when they think they are anonymous. Or when they think they’ve never met you, or will never see you again. It reminds me of the things that people say to me when I stand up for myself or for other transfolk, while we scramble to just be seen as human beings. My most recent baggage came in the form of “If you’re not male or female, what are you? An animal?”
My reaction to the last boss showed my inability to distance myself from the game sure, but also showed that past hurts get dredged up in the weirdest of ways. This game became incredibly personal incredibly fast. Partially because I could see myself in the gender-neutral Chara. Partially because the game never stopped reminding me that I was the one making the decisions. The “right thing” was rewarded with acceptance, not ire. And it had nothing to do with how I identify.
This game reminds me that while humans can sometimes be the most cruel things of all they can also be the most kind.
