Drac scouts supplies from the toy aisles at Walmart he also makes players wear eye protection, since the modified blasters could do real damage. The Nerf warriors exist in some zone between child’s play and adult LARP. “I don’t think those are for kids, honey,” his wife said tentatively. A man walking by with his daughter leaned in to examine a fluorescent pump-action blaster. “I’ve been watching your videos for three years.” Others in the park weren’t sure what to make of the scene. “Are you Lord Drac?” he asked, his voice thick with wonder. “It’s time to go to war,” he said.Īs Drac reloaded magazines, a kid wandered over from a nearby birthday party and stared. In the Atlanta park, he spun a plastic revolver around his finger like a sharpshooter in an old western. The goofy gunplay on display at Drac’s events blends childishness and combat in a way that seems distinctly, and sometimes disconcertingly, American. In June, he helped organize an event at AT&T Stadium in Arlington, Texas - the home of the Dallas Cowboys - that drew 1,300 participants. He’s also a paid consultant for blaster manufacturers and coordinates Nerf battles considerably larger than this one.
NERF WHITE OUT HOW TO
On YouTube, where his videos have been viewed more than 339 million times, Drac reviews blasters (as they are known) and teaches his viewers how to make them more powerful. Today’s gathering had been called by the group’s unofficial leader, Drac Thalassa, a light-footed, lanky 29-year-old who goes by Lord Draconical and has made a living out of Nerf. The club has held Nerf battles around the city for years, sometimes drawing hundreds of participants: fathers and sons, college students, men in their 20s, women who want to flirt with men in their 20s. Soon, the Nerfers would disperse throughout the park, darting out from behind trees like commandos to thwack each other with foam ammunition at 200 feet per second. A scrawny young man in camo pants and a tactical vest showed off the working rifle scope he’d attached to the barrel of his plaything. A woman with tattooed thighs cradled a red, white, and blue carbine with “Daddy’s Little Monster” printed on the receiver.
A mountain-shaped man unzipped a rifle case to reveal two AR15 look-alikes made of cheery blue-and-orange plastic. Some they’d built from scratch others came out of the box fully loaded. One hot morning at a park in Atlanta, a few dozen members of the SouthEast Nerf Club gathered around folding tables, eyeing each other’s specced-up toy guns.
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