Saya Putus Dengan Cinta Dan Deepspace

Earlier this year, Infold invited me to attend Love and Deepspace's second anniversary event. At this point, I had been playing the game on and off for about a year. I was juggling questionable relationships with both Zayne, the main character's physician, and Sylus, the violent leader of a crime syndicate. And while I wasn't as financially invested as many players, I certainly had fostered a level of emotional investment in the game, its story, and its charming characters. I was thrilled to be asked to attend--thrilled to go to something so unabashedly for women, and to be able to create content for an audience gaming outlets tend to underserve.

And then I attended.

Upon returning from my trip, I made a short video that highlighted the game and its fanbase while largely avoiding discussing the actual trip itself. Frankly, it was because I figured that if I didn't have anything nice to say, perhaps it was better to say nothing at all. The event itself was underwhelming, and I felt terrible for all the die-hard fans who didn't have the same level of privilege and access I did who had to wait outside in the New York City cold for literal hours just to be greeted by a trailer and cardboard cut outs of their favorite characters. Sure, the event was free, but I still felt as if these fans had been jilted. But this is only one part of what left such a bad taste in my mouth.

The real kicker was when a representative walked up to me while filming the game's community, all lined up on the street and chittering away happily despite the bitter cold, and asked me if I could avoid showcasing any men in my coverage. I was confused, for a brief moment, until they elaborated further and told me it was to avoid fostering this perception that the game embraces gay relationships.

My stomach lurched, and I felt a rush of heat and defiance sweep over me. "I mean, I didn't sign anything agreeing to that. That makes me uncomfortable," I replied. The representative seemed sympathetic, but indicated that, while I could go against Infold's wishes, the studio might be unhappy.

My show of resistance earned me several side-eyes and a heightened level of supervision as I spoke to people; I could feel them lean in to listen to the questions I ask and to ensure I was playing nice. By coincidence, not intention, the video I made showcased femme-presenting individuals. But to be fair, the event--and fanbase--is overwhelmingly female. After making the video, I sat at my desk debating how I wanted to go about writing all this. There was a part of me that felt like I was obligated to mention the blatant anti-LGBTQ+ sentiments on display, but another part of me worried that to do so would be culturally insensitive. China, the country where Infold and developer Papergames are based, has very different beliefs and laws--ones I am entirely unfamiliar with and, perhaps more importantly, am not subjugated to. I thought and thought and thought until the window for that piece to still be considered timely had passed and a pile of new assignments had fallen on my lap. Time, and the ceaseless media cycle, made the decision for me.

But this whole situation has continued to occupy a part of my brain. It nagged at me every time I opened up the game to check on my virtual boyfriends and do my daily tasks, and made the whole experience a bit less joyful.

And now, as I sit here and contemplate Infold and Papergames' more recent and extremely public fumbles, I feel as though all the remaining joy I found in Love and Deepspace's rich, sci-fi world and loveable characters has been depleted.

The above incident, followed by the situation around the game's once-promised sixth love interest, Valko--the fanfare-filled rollout that was promptly followed by a dramatic, shame-fueled cancellation--has made one thing apparent to me: When push comes to shove, the higher-ups at Infold and Papergames are willing to compromise their game, artistic vision, and greater community to appease the most ill-intentioned sects of their fanbase.

Although the Valko situation has spiraled wildly out of control--so much so that now even the Chinese government is involved--originally, much of the initial complaints boiled down to issues with his appearance and frustration towards Papergames not investing as much time and attention into the game's main story as fans wanted. That's all well and good, and in a perfect world, folks could simply not like how one of six love interests looks, be a bit peeved at the company's misplaced efforts, and go on with their days.

And yet, simply not liking something is often not enough these days, and critics quickly found ways to frame Valko's inclusion as something morally reprehensible. The first thing they latched on to was an in-game document referencing a human experiment, later revealed to be Valko, labeled A-0731. According to Chinese critics, this could be perceived as a reference to Unit 731, a unit of the Imperial Japanese Army that conducted biological and chemical warfare on Chinese civilians during World War II. Infold quickly denied any connection between the two, apologized for the oversight, and stated the document number would be changed. But it's interesting to note that this text was actually added to the game back in April. Somehow, it didn't become an issue until a few days into Valko's campaign.

The second issue, which is also the one that arguably has garnered the most attention, has to do with Valko's taglines, all of which revolve around this idea of "letting a wolf into the house." All of his advertising plays up the fact that there is an enticing element of danger about him--that to love him is to love someone wild. It's clear that Valko was meant to capitalize on the same ill-advised--and dare I say feral--love that we see in most "monster" romance media, i.e. stories about vampires, werewolves, and the like. At this point, it's been done so much it's barely taboo--young women everywhere swooned when Edward gazed upon Bella as she slept, blissfully unaware of his presence, in Twilight.

There are countless qualities and tropes audiences adore in media that don't translate into ethical behavior in real life, and the romance genre is no stranger to utilizing and exploring them. And as a work of romantic media itself, Love and Deepspace has routinely explored taboo, violent, and possessive relationships and situations. Yet this tagline--this cheeky reference to inviting danger into your bedroom--has been leveraged against Valko and Infold to accuse them both of condoning trespassing and assault.

As a result of these perceived insults, feces, mourning flowers, cleansing items, and more were placed outside Infold's offices in China by aggravated players. Soon after, Infold and Papergames announced they would be deleting Valko entirely, and began to scrub their various social media accounts of any trace of Valko's existence. Furthermore, the studios also assured their angriest fans that they would cease all work on any future love interests. On July 9, the update that was meant to have Valko in it was released, and with it came a minor but significant adjustment: While the Valko-sized space next to Caleb on the game's character menu used to read "Coming Soon," it is now blank.

Every post by Infold and Papergames in the days since this incident started has been leaden with shame and inundated with apologies. But at its core, this all feels less like listening to player feedback and more like succumbing to pressure placed on them by a harassment campaign. I do pity the teams a bit, and I certainly don't envy the difficult situation they have to navigate. But mostly, I'm just disappointed by their series of cowardly decisions--decisions like asking a journalist not to showcase men at an event because it might give fans the idea that the game is more inclusive than some would like.

Back in January, I left Love and Deepspace's second anniversary event feeling conflicted and disheartened. Now, I feel alienated. With seemingly little hesitation, Papergames scrapped months--if not years--of work in order to reward an angry mob. It's an insult to the game's developers as much as it is to the fans of the game who don't participate in such behavior, and has dissolved my trust in the studios, my desire to participate in the Love and Deepspace ecosystem, and my faith in the game's direction. After two years of playing Love and Deepspace, I have deleted the game from my phone and ended my relationship with one of the precious few mainstream games designed purposefully for women on the market. I won't lie, this break-up hurts. I'll miss Sylus's ruby-red eyes and sultry smolder, and lament no longer being a part of such a wonderful community. But when the love is gone, it's time to move on.