Endgame was one of the best roleplaying experiences I've had in years. The next event is scheduled for September 29 - October 1. If you can make it, I highly recommend it. http://endgamelarp.com has all you need. In no particular order, some of my favourite things about last weekend are:
1. People. There's a vast cross-section of players in this game. To give you an idea, here's a list of all the people (in endgame_larp) on my friends-of-a-friend-list: arianhwyvar, beled_el_djinn, darthgm, dervishspin, girliegoalie, jesiah_blanche, _lackey_, lordbleys, metabomber, mrpaladin, nomadmwe, redfishie, shu_al, siriel, the_boxer, tpau, and swashbucklr. That's, you know, about 1/3 of the PCs, and only one of them is on my flist.
2. Character. We were all something before the Invasion. We were doctors, students, machinists, truck drivers, footsoldiers, SCAdians, and a manager for a Motel 6. No gods, no demons, no wizards. Our names were Mark and Susan and Doug and David and Karen. We came by foot, by ones and twos and threes. We were not great heroes or thinkers. We had no idea what we were doing at first, and we all lost loved ones. We were all completely unprepared for the end of the World and all still scared out of our minds.
3. Pace. It took us all of 3 seconds to get into character at the start of game. And, except for clarifications and other occasional questions for the staff, no one broke character EVER. Combat was fought at a desparate pace - any battle could swiftly turn from crushing defeat to overwhelming victory depending on our use of skills and tactics (and whether we had enough epinephrine). When there was no one around, that meant something bad was happening. When everyone was around, that meant something bad was happening.
4. Immersion. Our weapons are guns and knives and baseball bats and hockey sticks and lead pipes and random pieces of lumber and sharpened pieces of metal. Our costumes are jeans and t-shirts and labcoats and jumpsuits and riotgear and anything that can survive 2 years of constant abuse. Every piece of clothing, every piece of equipment, every amenity is carried in by hand by our characters. We eat nuts and berries and canned meat and smoked venison. We have dinner for sixty, handmade onsite, never knowing when you'd have to drop your fork, take what could be your very last sip of coffee, grab your gun and leap into battle. It's so very real, so visceral. It's what gaming should be.
And because it deserves its very own mention:
5. Radio Free Earth. Whatever they could scrounge from private collections and recored stores leftover from before the Invasion. Messages sent out across the country - some cryptic, some hopeful, some sad. It's a quiet, shaky, invaluable connection to the rest of humanity and you can feel it wash over you when there's a news broadcast. It's the end of the world out there, and it makes the rest of your days sweeter knowing you have luxuries like running water and fresh food and antibiotics and transportation that you don't have to rip out of the arms of the dead from abandoned shoe stores.