Watching the world end

(Leandro Pardini)

(Leandro Pardini)

(Leandro Pardini)

“City of Heroes” died this past weekend after nearly eight years of celebrated persistence.

A few months ago, Korean games publisher NCSoft shocked the players and creators of its superhero MMO “City of Heroes” by announcing its imminent shutdown. Not even 48 hours had passed since development team at Paragon Studios had released new content and announced the details of the next major free expansion. They were called into a meeting and told to start looking for work elsewhere.

Shortly thereafter, the news that City of Heroes was shutting down on December 1st of 2012 was posted on the game’s official site.

Quiet sit-ins in the game world started almost immediately after the announcement.

On one game server, so many players were logged in that the system had to generate more than thirty instances of the game’s “Atlas Park” zone. Atlas Park 33 became a persistent rallying point, staying online up to the very last day due to players remaining logged in for a 24/7 vigil.

Players protested the shutdown in other ways: Twitter, home of the Arab Spring, has been swamped with the hashtags #savecoh and #avengecoh since day one. Multiple online petitions were launched and hit tens of thousands of signatures in a few hours. Letters and emails flooded the inboxes of NCSoft executives, resulting in the company issuing a terse statement to the effect that they got the message that players were unhappy, but the game was still going to go down as scheduled.

Some extraordinary individuals came out of the woodwork to express dismay. The creators of the wildly influential webcomics PVP and Penny Arcade chimed in with their disappointment, as did respected author Mercedes Lackey, among others. Tens of thousands of Regular Joes protested as well.

NCSoft did not reverse course. A little past 3 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, the game servers went dark forever.

I had wanted to join in on the last hour of the game’s life but was unable to do so.

Virtue, the server that housed all the characters I’d created over the last few years, was swamped. There was a queue of over 1,400 players waiting to get on. Earlier in the day I had reunited with members of my supergroup and we completed some missions together, so it wasn’t as if I hadn’t gotten a final chance to play again.

Many of the other servers were showing a population status of “moderate load” the entire night. Some of the players who got in were running events, trying to complete difficult storylines one last time before the clock ran down. The majority of players just gathered on their servers’ Atlas Park maps and fought giant monsters spawned by developer Jessie Lawrence (aka the heroic “Hit Streak”—apparently the last man standing at Paragon Studios) for fun.

Among other things, there was a giant squid that somehow raised itself out of the grassy field across from the park’s towering statue of man shouldering the weight of the globe on his back. They were making the best of it, having fun, and pulling together as a group.

Instead of playing, I had tuned-in to Paragon Studios’ Twitch broadcast because I realized that even if I did somehow get into the game it’d just be a lag-fest. People chatted and the dozen connected Paragon team members responded to questions. For a few hours, those of us unable to get in the game could at least see everything that was happening on Lawrence’s screen.

Along with a reported half a million other viewers on Twitch, I watched as Jessie Lawrence himself was forcibly disconnected from the game a few minutes after the official shutdown time.

He wasted no time in fulfilling his final obligations.

We watched as he grimly shut off the game’s official Twitter and Facebook accounts while the other former Paragon team members took time to express their thanks to the players for their support. There were also a few cracks made at the expense of forthcoming NCSoft titles. It was pretty clear that there was very little love left between the defunct Western studio and its former Korean publisher.

To be frank, City of Heroes was never really a “WoW-killer” in terms of subscription numbers or profit. Nothing is. Hopefully, publishers will soon realize that nothing will ever be able to match the runaway success of World of Warcraft. That kind of thinking has caused the shutdown of many great games, and more than a few at the hands of NCSoft — earning it the moniker of a “gamekiller” among players.

What the studios and publishers need to realize is that if they create a great niche game with a strong enough product to hold the attention of fans, they’ll still get a return on their investment. And if they take care of their loyal customers, they’ll get even more.

City of Heroes was a great game. There are two things that made it so, but only half of it was the actual product.

The game itself was immersive and beautiful, despite its age. It was also full of content. I have given up on quite a few other MMOs because of a lack of things to do. That never happened with me or my fiancée during our experience with the game.

By the point the game was shut down, there were still places we hadn’t fully explored, NPC contacts whose stories we hadn’t made progress with, and an alternate reality where good guys were bad and vice versa, which we’d only just dipped our toes in.

The fictional Paragon City of Rhode Island was a vivid tapestry of characters and tales, with nearly a decade of development behind it. The unimaginably robust and customizable costume creator the game featured is the technical aspect of the game that I, and many others, will likely miss the most.

The fact that players could create their own content and multi-mission quests was what got me interested in writing again after a seven-year lapse. To keep my characters and stories alive, I am adapting the content of a few of the missions I wrote in the game as part of my second and third novels. I’m sure others are doing something similar.

But what made the game truly special, to me, my friends and family, and everyone who was heartbroken to hear of the shutdown, was not a technical feature. It was the community itself. Most people—myself included—did not buy City of Heroes for that. We weren’t there to make friends, we were there to turn ourselves into unstoppable powerhouses fighting the good (or bad, if you chose) fight!

A strong, loving and supportive community grew out of the game, honoring the spirit of the concept of the hero.

Some players came to the game as an escape from their troubles in life.

Chris, a member of my superteam, had this to share: “When I started playing City of Heroes, all those years ago, my life was in a bad place and getting worse. I had just recently divorced and my father passed away. I received my college degree and was wondering if I was going to be able to find a good job without leaving my home here in South Dakota. I was rapidly becoming a very bad alcoholic. But, a friend bought me the game and told me that ‘You need something else to take your free time.’ I began to play the game. I quickly found out that with the combination of AA and [City of Heroes], I was able to stop my want to drink when the cravings occurred by occupying my mind with the endless missions the game offered. Now I am not saying that [the game] saved my life or anything like that but, with the help of the City of Heroes community, my Justice Corps friends and all of the adventures we shared, now I am almost six years sober. And for that, I will always be grateful for this game and the people I’ve met there.”

Drew, from Minnesota, shares the following: “City of Heroes gave me an opportunity to be who I wanted to be, not what others told me to be. I could be the invincible, stoic slayer of evil. I could be the timid, lovable cat with a fear of anything that jumped at me. I could be the enigmatic alien with plans of his own. I was allowed to let the various aspects of my psyche come out and play and be accepted for the mood I was feeling at the time. I could literally be myself. All this was accepted and encouraged. I was not judged based on who I was perceived to be. I was judged for who I was and what I did. And no one was disappointed with what they found because they were the same as I was: timid, strong, reclusive, or bold. At one point or another, we were the same. And we found each other.”

From Florida, my friend Dan had this to say when he first heard of the game’s sunsetting: “Whether I’m saving the world, or just talking to my teammates on the steps of Atlas, I’m where I want to be. It’s helped my writing, it’s built friendships I never want to lose… and the best community I’ve ever been a part of, and made a home that I can’t believe we’ll lose. ”

John, a graphics designer from Pennsylvania, was able to reconnect with a vital part of his early years, because of the game: “When I was a young boy our father died and my mother was forced to move us five kids to the low income housing projects. Shortly she met and married a physically abusive alcoholic that became our stepfather. Learning to tolerate and soon accept unwarranted beatings as a small boy began to take a real toll on my developing self-worth. One of the few bright spots in my life was when my paternal grandfather would visit a few times a year. He was a kindly old man who always made me feel special and he always brought me and my brothers a towering stack of comic books. … My love of comics became a part of who I was and I continued to keep the connection between myself and my heroes throughout adulthood. My other adult friends didn’t get it but my love for superheroes transcended my age and soon I was able to share my secret world with my children. One day my 21-year-old son invited me to try City of Heroes. Within an hour I was hooked. I was transported into the world of my youth.”

My own personal story has been covered by the NYPost before, but I will recap: I began playing City of Heroes shortly after its release. A year or so later, I met a girl at work named Maria, and we started dating. I was at first a little embarrassed to admit I played a comic book video game to her in my free time, but she revealed that she played it as well—but on a different shard. We made new characters on the same server, and teamed up. I would call her on the phone and we’d coordinate our efforts. We soon learned what classes were complimentary to each other, and created more and more matching pairs of heroes and villains. Eventually, we moved into our own place together, sitting next to one another at our computers and making up silly voices for the villains we fought. For less than the cost of two movie tickets we could have hours of fun together every day.

Two years ago, my friend William from the Post told me he’d been assigned to interview Paragon Studios with regards to the game’s forthcoming major expansion. He was unfamiliar with it so he asked me to help and I agreed. While writing the article, I realized I had a unique opportunity. I called William, and told him I intended to ask Maria to marry me—and did he think he could chat up the NC Soft PR guy to see if he’d be willing to put me in touch with the games studio to see if we could create something unique?

The staff at Paragon Studios, bless them, agreed. I exchanged numerous emails and phone calls with Melissa Bianco (the ghostly hero “War Witch” from the officially licensed comic books) and Hosun Lee (“Black Pebble”) over the following weeks. What they came up with was more amazing than what I’d imagined, and on November 17th of the same year we put it into play. I asked Maria to be my wife in front of hundreds of gathered players, numerous “signature heroes” of the game being manned by the development staff, and, of course, a twenty-story-tall interdimensional conqueror who was defeated by the power of our love. No one wants to know what would’ve happened if she said no. Ms. Bianco was amazing enough to send us a handwritten congratulatory card, which we still have framed. (No word yet on if she’d cosplay as War Witch if we invited her to our forthcoming ceremony.)

Now, while I agree that my personal story about City of Heroes is not as heartwrenching as the ones I’ve quoted above, it just goes to show you how big a part of my life it was. Hearing that the game was being turned off was, well: If I’d proposed in a beautiful park then later learned it was being bulldozed to make way for a strip mall, I’d probably feel the same way I do now. Disappointed is not the word.

As for Maria, she has some issues I am positive she would prefer not to have me air publicly, but we had a conversation the night the game shut down in which she summed up her experience with it. She made characters that were always perfected versions of her that always reflected her as a person, or exemplified the person she wanted to be. And it worked; she is a kind, loving sweetheart—and that’s always how the members of our superteam saw her. Anyone could come to her with their heartbreak and sorrow, and she would console them. And when she experienced her own turmoil, she turned to them for support—and got it.

The people I interviewed, my fiancée, and I, are not unique in this experience. I have read dozens of similar stories on the many communities that exist for fans of the franchise on Facebook and other websites. The spirit of heroism and support that City of Heroes nursed into being continues to this day: As an example, there is a charity called Real World Hero which raises thousands of dollars each year to improve the quality of life for hospitalized children. It began in the game, and it’s not the only one.

City of Heroes may not have been perfect—among other things, player-versus-player never really got hammered out and was widely considered the red-headed stepchild of the game—and it may not have ever been particularly popular. But for the people who played it, it was extremely important.

The game was an outlet and an escape for many. And it was home to a thriving community.

As for what the future holds for the game, there is a bit of hopeful speculation. It does not serve any purpose to recap any of the numerous rumors here. There are a few that I feel could be true, but since the people who originated them have kept their sources unnamed it could be misleading to cite them.

What can be confirmed is this: In an amazingly ballsy “Hail Mary Play” move, a group of influential professionals spearheaded by author Mercedes Lackey interacted with Paragon Studios’ former leadership to draft a 30+ page appeal directed towards the Disney media conglomerate. The document goes over the innumerable benefits of purchasing the IP off of NCSoft. It has been followed up by dozens of handwritten letters from fans of the game who would support the Mouse if it took ownership of the game property. It would be a wise move: the game has a built-in global fandom, one that is willing to spend its money en masse on virtually anything that pertains to Paragon City and her heroes.

If the Disney campaign is successful, I’m sure fans would be sated simply by seeing the game reopened and put on a new development cycle. Personally, I’d want to see a “City of Heroes 2” with next-gen graphics and improved systems grown organically and respectfully from those found in the original superhero MMO. But that’s neither here nor there.

I would appeal to anyone who has ever lost a game, a television show, or other entertainment they loved to the whims of a corporate boardroom to remember how they felt when it happened—and consider raising your voice in support of the City of Heroes fan community. Browncoats and Trekkies, I’m looking at you. It’s the strength of the communities that surround games, shows, and movies, that really make or break them. Maybe some solidarity could be shown.

Before I close this editorial, I want to share something. These were the last words transmitted by a City of Heroes player on the last game server to go offline, at the very moment it happened:

“50th Bio Armor Tank, Seeking team!”

Facing the permanent shutdown of the game, instead of complaining or making threatening Tweets directed at NCSoft… all this guy or gal wanted to do was get together with other people and share the unique experience that City of Heroes provided.

In the final moments of the game’s life, I don’t think anyone could have said anything else to better sum up why City of Heroes will be missed: People weren’t there to win: they were there to help each other out and to be part of the unique community experience the game had been home to for the better part of a decade.

Alexander Maisey is an independent author living in Nyack, NY. His novel “Malevolence”, the first of many high-octane, ultraviolent superheroes-versus-villains tales for mature readers, will be available on Amazon.com in early 2013.

Screenshots provided by Leandro Pardini.