The images here have gotten some real currency on the net by this point, but they are too good to pass up. These Russian guys do LARP better than I do LIFE. Look me in the face and tell me you wouldn’t be freaking out with joy if you were sitting around this fire pictured above, dressed appropriately and pretending to understand what is going on.
As vacuum-cleaner/plate mail combinations go, private commentators have rated this one as a near equivalent to the tier 9 space paladin set with matching bracers, i.e. +10 epic pimphand. Industrial Garbage-Bag Man knows better than to crowd the shot and provides subtle accent light while simultaneously having this gangsta’s back. Looking fly is a bad time to get ambushed.
Not everyone has the balls to stick to it in the harsh post-nuclear future. One imagines though that if the Hulk and Hellboy had a brief gay dalliance that somehow miraculously produced issue, like say, this guy, that he would certainly have no problems getting along. Pictured here consulting his techno-bible while lining up his pre-arena buffs, he carefully considers what gear to upgrade with his accumulated honor points.
According to the spotty English translations available on the site, this is a door that actually ignited when the proper pass code was punched in. Sure, it was made of garbage bags IRL, but it would still make me pee in my pants a little bit if I were the guy to break the code.
Meanwhile in the forest, the obligatory LARP wedding is taking place. This is apparently where all the hot LARPers congregate. If there were some kind of elimination-style reality show for LARP people, I’d be putting my cash on these guys, no doubt. The priest is like “Does anyone here know of any reason why these two should not be joined in matrimony?” and we’re all like “No, we sure don’t.”
Ah, the cosplay casino. Surely this is just included for the completionists. Who the hell wants to pretend to gamble inside of a post-apocalyptic world when there’s a whole post-apocalyptic world out there brimming with mutants and space paladins and exploding garbage-bag doors? This is like the pre-party thing where everybody loses some cash and gets wasted before strapping on their plastic pulse rifles and setting out to tear shit up.
This piece, mysteriously entitled “Prepare to take the hit on yourself,” should leave us all in an appropriately philosophical frame of mind. Not pictured, the fallen adversary he is preparing to teabag as his acolytes position themselves to remove his chain-pants. One can only hope that it is a teaser shot for an accompanying concept album of Russian post-rock.