These days, I’m lucky enough to work in games, and that means even if I don’t get a game code, I know that I’ll be able to write about a game and make money off it. In 2016 when Overwatch released, that wasn’t the case. I’d buy new games, beat them, then flip them at a second hand shop and use that money to buy another game, and so on. That’s a big part of why single player games, with a definitive ending, matter so much to me. The Witcher, The Last of Us, Horizon, Grand Theft Auto 4, Red Dead Redemption 2, and every FIFA from 09 to 19 all entered my life that way. Countless others, too. Despite this, I still have my old Overwatch disc, gathering dust on my shelf as it dwindles in value and my play time trickles up by a few measly minutes every six months or so. There’s just something very compelling about Overwatch’s existence that never quite translates to its gamep

I don’t care for online shooters in general; I’m much happier with a good offline story game most of the time. That’s a big reason why my Overwatch numbers are so low - I’m busy playing through a gripping narrative rather than getting better at playing as D.Va or

Overwatch skins are nothing more than costumes to dress your favourite characters up in, so it seems silly for someone like me, who only plays rarely and not even as Soldier 76, to care about them so much. But it’s not really about whether the skins look good, whether I’d want them, and whether they’re better or worse than other sets. It’s that Blizzard had the opportunity to embrace the queer culture behind Soldier 76 and Tracer, a culture the company is happy to cater to in only the most minor of ways, and instead ducked it. A skin that was unabashedly queer was an opportunity to reinforce the diversity Blizzard often talks about, but Overwatch deliberately let the opportunity pass

There was a time only a few short years ago when Overwatch 2 hero guide|https://overwatch2fans.com/ was untouchable. Blizzard’s hero shooter was a fresh, energetic entry in a genre that was slowly but surely growing stale. The beloved developer saw this gap in the market and pounced upon it, delivering a diverse multiplayer experience that would hold our attention for years to come. Fast forward to 2021, and the picture appears infinitely more bl

As the years moved on and seasonal events began to repeat, I fell out of love with Overwatch. I returned following the surprise debut of Archives, which promised a more intricate delving into the lore behind my favourite operatives, but it was a surface level exploration of narrative elements that simply didn’t do enough. A few skins caught my eye, tempting me to indulge in free loot boxes and to grind for a couple alongside friends who returned for similar reas

We’d hop on Discord and inevitably talk about the state of Overwatch, sharing timid excitement for the sequel and how we’d hope it might shake up the subdued nature its progenitor had adopted in the years since its release. The world and heroes have so much potential, taking the foundations first established here and building them into showcases that aren’t afraid to grow this universe in bold, meaningful w

As a - very - casual Overwatch fan , the characters have always been my favourite thing about the hero shooter. They only tell vague stories, but they’re so well designed and are bursting with such life that they feel like bigger characters than they actually are. They’re similar to comic book characters; you don’t need to have read the decades long history between Batman and the Joker, you just see their iconic designs and you instantly feel as if you know them. Whether it’s Ashe and her Wild West gunslinger aesthetic, D.Va’s e-girl vibe, or Winston the science monke, the character designs tell their own stories. That’s why the recent Archives event feels like a big missed opportun

That’s an issue for another day though. Today, I want to focus on the Archives skins, particularly those of our queer characters, Soldier 76 and Tracer. The Archives event is running until April 27, and brings eight new skins to the game, each designed around a given character’s cultural history. Both Soldier 76 and Tracer are included in the event, but it’s extremely telling that neither of their cultural histories includes any reference to queerness. Soldier 76 is becoming Soldier 1776 which, I admit, is a good pun. The American soldier is donning the jacket of the Revolutionaries, these days probably best known from the musical Hamil

After the massive announcement of Overwatch 2 was made at Blizzcon, we found out a little more about the highly anticipated sequel. We know that multiple new maps are coming, as well as a co-op story mode, and two new heroes: Echo and Sojo

Before I make a case for every number that’s not five, allow me to explain why five is so astronomically stupid. Each of Overwatch’s three roles can be subdivided into two smaller positions within them. For example, supports can be main or secondary support - consider Mercy and Zenyatta’s healing capacities, respectively - whereas DPS is usually separated into hitscan (insta-registration of bullets) and projectile (anything fired has an arc with its own distinct velocity and trajectory). You can also make a case for builders and support DPS as opposed to traditional damage-dealers, but the main distinction has to do with impact registration and how that pertains to team compositions and map layo