The life cycle of a successful massively multiplayer online game, like any breakout offline or single-player game, always follows the same trajectory: It grabs some headlines, eventually gets oversaturated, maybe gets parodied by South Park, and then eventually fades from the mainstream's point of view. Unlike offline or single-player games, online and MMO titles have a built-in shelf life. Sooner or later, they're getting ink in gaming mags or blogs again -- but this time, it's because their servers are getting turned off. And with that, an entire world vanishes for all eternity, when it was there just a moment before. In Abandoned Ware, one gamer becomes a field reporter for these once-huge MMOs, before the inevitable eradicates them forever.



Animal Crossing Meets Fallout

I am not a Hello Kitty fan. That's OK, though, because no one else on Hello Kitty Online seems to be, either. It's not like my reasons for being there are nobler than anyone else's; every time I play a game for this column I know I'll only be spending a few weeks on it.

But I especially wanted to visit Sanrio's MMO because it's so different from the rest of the generic-fantasy-themed stuff littering the genre. Toss in that HKO is free-to-play and three years old... and at the very least, I expected it to be filled with some extremely devoted Nipponophiles. I couldn't have been more wrong: Hello Kitty Online is a lonely place and a hornet's nest of intrigue -- but not because of the game itself.

No, the game is rather boring. You go around completing fetch quests -- Badtz-Maru needs three Twizzlyleafs, three Featherwood Branches, and three Vibrant Rocks for "a little project" -- and your efforts are rewarded with new clothes like stylish green Capri pants. Combat isn't discouraged, but player-versus-player fighting is impossible, and many of the enemies are actually incredibly tough to "make sleepy" (really), as the game's FAQ explains, to "require players to cooperate."


I don't mean be sound dismissive. Obviously this game is aimed at kids, but I didn't run into a single grade-schooler at all. To clarify, I wasn't running around asking everyone "A/S/L?" Nobody was on the English-language servers during school hours -- everyone comes out late at night. And it's not like HKO would seem the slightest bit dangerous: The servers are named things like Wonderful, Fantasy, and Amazing. This is meant to be a safe and whimsical place.

But, unlike many MMOs, HKO eventually ends. That means, understandably, people move on. Though I met many new players, most confessed they were just killing time. "What made you start?" I asked one guy. "EverQuest II isn't working right now, so I decided to try HKO." It's fun, he added, but he didn't plan on sticking around once EQ2 was back up and running.

I don't blame him. HKO has a huge world riddled with factual inaccuracies -- the streets of London are paved with the words "Hello Kitty" -- and basically, all you do is dash around running errands. Eventually, you burn through everything everyone can think to ask of you, and then it's time to move on to the next settlement down the road to do it all over again. I actually assumed HKO was more complicated than this, and wound up exploring too far away from where I was supposed to be. I should have realized this when a roving pack of level-10 brambles -- slow-moving blue hedgehogs -- stopped me in my tracks and dished out heavy damage with every blow. I kept getting "really tired" from the beatings, but stubbornness and level-grinding go hand-in-hand. Eventually, I just gave up and decided to focus more on schmoozing with other players.


It was a few more nights before I ran into other live bodies: a group of people, just hanging out, basically using HKO as a chat room. At first, I was hesitant to approach them -- this is the Internet, after all -- but I was excited to converse with some fellow humans, so I wandered up. They were talking about playing games with their parents, so I thought these might be kids. I was wrong: They were roughly my age. A little younger, but still twentysomethings like me.

We wound up talking entirely too late into the morning, just past 2:00 AM. We just joked around, real friendly-like. One of them even sent me a picture of their cat playing HKO.


But then, a solemn quiet washed over us as these people started telling me about what happened to this place. I can't fact-check everything they said due to the ephemeral nature of actions in MMOs, but since we talked for over four hours, I'll give these folks the benefit of the doubt. After all, combined, they've been playing HKO for years. They've seen the world swirl into creation, experience some success, and then transform into a haunted wasteland.

"It used to be very populated haha" one user told me.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Nothing to do @_@," another explained.

"The plague," a third player joked.

"Everyone is bored lol," chimed in yet another. "Once you find everything, it's... boring LOL!"


It wasn't always this way, they said. It's gone downhill since March of 2010, with the introduction of what they call the "doom patch." Essentially, it nerfed quest rewards, removing the entire reason people played in the first place. Items like full-body monkey suits were replaced by less meaningful offerings like "a bride's umbrella." Turns out, you can pay nothing and still feel ripped off: People left in droves.

So, of the people who remain, we have the quintessential faction sticking around and just doing their thing -- but they're dropping off because of a certain user, whose name I won't specify to protect their identity. Like any self-respecting MMO, HKO has guilds, or as the game puts it, Groups of Friends. This individual started a Group of Friends back in January, and then abandoned her followers by just playing, rarely, on an international server. The organization turned into a headless chicken, harassing all remaining players to reveal her whereabouts and to shake people down for items.

When she emerges, she tries to incite infighting among friends. One woman told me how this individual made a friend cry by spreading rumors about how she didn't like her anymore. I tried in vain to find this person on other servers, but it was a fruitless endeavor.

In fact, I couldn't find anyone at all.


It's funny that a "childish" MMO is so heavily impacted by high school-level crap, carried out by adults. Though, in a way, that vibe reflects the stereotypical Hello Kitty fan -- a moody teenager, quick to incite drama -- doesn't it?

To be reductive, I'm going to say "yes." Not to discredit or dismiss HKO whatsoever; it's actually a testament to how MMOs reflect their audiences. Maybe people would be better behaved if this was a Rugrats MMO instead?



David Wolinsky is a regular contributor to AdultSwim.com, PC Gamer, NBCChicago.com, and the environment (by not polluting)! You can read more about his cat, and theories on BBQ sauce preferences, over on Twitter and his personal website.