You know who’s great? The women in Agents of Mayhem. The game may have its flaws (which I discussed at length in my recent review) but one of its strongest points is its roster of female characters, each of whom are the most interesting and powerful people in the entire game.
I would go full on Thelma & Louise with each and every one of these women, and endure any number of speech checks and fetch quests if they would only be my friend in real life. Here’s my ode to each of them, explaining why.
Braddock
Braddock, you intimidate the hell out of me. The way you light your cigarette on the laser light of your gun is the coolest thing I’ve seen since I watched some chick do lines of coke off a Hell’s Angels tail pipe. You seem to have a thing with that gal Friday, which is cool, but I fear if I kissed you my face would implode. The best I could hope for is that you look at me with something less than disdain. And I’m fine with that.
Daisy
Daisy, you’re every Seattle riot grrl I ever fell in love with. You’re basically how I picture myself in all my super cool revenge fantasies. Please be my drinking buddy.
Fortune
Fortune, initially, I didn’t think we’d get along, because you didn’t seem like you had enough strategic edge to make it on my permanent agent squad. But you proved me wrong. I was a fool. Your ability to dual wield is nothing short of phenomenal, and the beat of your Mayhem attack is the catchiest thing I’ve heard in my life. You make me work harder, as a player (so I can hear that song again and dance while I kill people), and push me to be a better version of my FPS self. And that’s what friends do.
Joule
Joule, you have a turret, which means you think ahead and you’re well prepared. Gals like you are the ones that may not hold your hair back while you puke, but definitely have wet naps to help you clean up afterwards. I respect that distant yet helpful kind of support. Plus you never miss the opportunity for a great selfie. You’re in.
Rama
Rama I respect you too much as an immunologist and a stone cold harbinger of death to write anything other than this sentence. Please don’t kill me.
Scheherazade
Scheherazade, with the whole “mysterious backstory” thing, you seem like a loner, and I respect that. I won’t insult you by begging, or endlessly flattering your fluid, mesmerizing hand-to-hand combat skills. Just know that the door is always open.
Persephone
Persephone, you’re not one of the titular Agents, but I have to hand it to you for surviving the rebirth of the entire goddamn universe, and then becoming a successful entrepreneur to boot. And throughout it all you maintained an impeccable sense of style and ruthless, almost cruel, repertoire. Teach me your ways.
Friday
Friday, I can’t find a picture of you, but since I most often hear your voice as I’m heading out for a mission in Seoul, these lovely cherry blossoms are what I associate with you most. Like Persephone, you’re not one of the titular Agents, but I’m gonna throw you a bone here. You’re smart, and from what I gather from Daisy’s story quest, you really want to be included on a girl’s night out. There is nothing more pure and endearing than a genuine desire for female camaraderie. You’re on the permanent list.
Holly Green is the assistant editor of Paste Games and a reporter and semiprofessional photographer. She is also the author of Fry Scores: An Unofficial Guide To Video Game Grub. You can find her work at Gamasutra, Polygon, Unwinnable, and other videogame news publications.