Forget the Root or any of its infected minions, what keeps me coming back to Remnant 2 is the joy of eavesdropping on the multiverse’s most cringeworthy couple.
Like Demon’s Souls and a handful of other titles, Remnant 2 gives you a home base in Ward 13, a hub from which you travel to the various realms. Unlike Demon’s Souls, it isn’t a hidden temple guarded by a woman who should really get round to washing her feet.
Instead, it’s a generally cheerier place, apocalypse notwithstanding. Ward 13 is a safe zone for survivors who have eluded the Root and the creatures its spawned. There’s a blacksmith, an engineer, a sage and massive glowing crystal that really should bother people more. And in the middle of it all sit the best worst NPCs in the whole of gaming.
There’s a man and a woman, seated next to each other behind some kind of food stall. I say food, but I’ve never seen them actually cook anything. Maybe they’re in charge of making sure that the pots don’t boil over, though they’re not so engrossed that they object to me just shooting holes in them.
They’re not a couple in the conventional sense. Their relationship is platonic though the man is constantly and unsuccessfully attempting to escape the friend zone. They have conversations like this:
Her: You know? You remind me so much of him.
Him: You mean Brad?
Her: My brother, actually. Though now that you mention it, you remind me of Brad too.
Him: I know. I’m… glad.
Then, there’s my personal favourite.
Her: You ever climb to the top of that tower in the city? It’s so beautiful. You can see everything.
Him: Do you.. Do you wanna go up there and show me?
Her: [sigh] I don’t know. Brad was the one who knew the way.
Sometimes he initiates conversation, sometimes it’s her, but my fascination is two-fold. On one level, I’m utterly enthralled by how awkward their back-and-forth-is are. It’s not that it’s badly written, it’s actually kind of genius. Chances are you’ve overheard at least one conversation like this, though getting it on loop really is something else.
On top of that, I keep trying to figure out just what’s going on here. Sometimes, it seems he’s just being a creeper, that he genuinely can’t get it into his head that she’s not interested. And, instead of kicking him off his chair and faceplanting him into the grille, she keeps on bringing up Brad, her possibly-dead ex.
But at other times, she’s the one who sounds a little off. Is her grief so raw that she’s floating through life, oblivious to everything else in the world? Or is the reason she’s no longer with Brad that he’s taken out some kind of post-apocalyptic restraining order? Did she chain up in her corrugated iron basement and forget to feed him? I’m kind of hoping it’s the latter because it reframes some of her utterances. “You sound so much like Brad sometimes”, takes on a sinister new meaning.
What if, not to undermine the awesomeness of animals, Brad was her Cocker Spaniel? It was his awesome nose that led the pair of them to that tower. And Captain Friend Zone? He’s sitting in the chair that, up until a few months ago, belonged to just the bestest boy.
I’m going to stop there because I’m on the verge of making myself blub. But whatever the couple’s true backstory is, and I hope the game never actually reveals it, I just can’t keep away. I must have heard every embarrassing line of dialogue at least three times even though. Unlike some games where I might find myself rooting for a romantic ending, here I’m happy for them to remain uncomfortably distant.
Forget The Elder Scrolls series and its talk of mudcrabs and arrows in the knee, Remnant 2’s dialogue is so cringe-inducing I can almost believe it. And if saving the multiverse means I get to fill my ears with more of this pair’s awkward non-rapport, count me in.
For more on Remnant 2, check out Yahtzee’s Zero Punctuation and KC’s 3 Minute Review.
