Trojan Women 2.0 Opens this Friday!
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=hpskip#!/event.php?eid=166412360081028
Yeah, I know, we open Friday the 13th; what could possibly go wrong? It's looking like a seriously good show, though, well worth catching.
The theater you're in is a shelled-out holding pen for female prisoners, in the aftermath of the Trojan War. The city outside is in ruins; a dirty bomb codenamed 'Trojan Horse' turned it into a nuclear wasteland a week ago. You're lucky, after a fashion; you survived.
Like prisoners in Newgate, or passengers on a Holocaust train, you've all paid an entry fee, an odd, forced collusion in your own fate, as if imprisonment, forced labor, starvation, rape, torture and slaughter were subjects for a holiday excursion.
You've been talking to the soldiers outside. They control every element of the holding pen: who comes in, who leaves, when and for how long the lights go out, who gets blankets, who gets fed. You don't get to talk to the women, though they might talk to you. When the lights go out and the radio signals phase out for the evening, you can hear them whispering their stories to each other.
Outside, the resistance goes on in fits and starts. A barricaded street here, a safehouse there. Numbers stations played over illicit radio channels: signals coded in numbers, sound effects and sketches of old tunes, with instructions for anyone out there still fighting. Hearing them in this place is both a thin ray of hope and a sure sign that the invading Greek army is listening for them and attempting to translate them, with the help of collaborators. The collaborators are detested, of course, but after a few beatings or worse, it gets easy to think, well, maybe, just for a while. Just for a meal. Just long enough to save your strength. A few days in a place like this, and you'll undoubtedly understand things you never wanted to.
(This is what happens when they let gamers direct.)
Anyway, hope to see you there!
Yeah, I know, we open Friday the 13th; what could possibly go wrong? It's looking like a seriously good show, though, well worth catching.
The theater you're in is a shelled-out holding pen for female prisoners, in the aftermath of the Trojan War. The city outside is in ruins; a dirty bomb codenamed 'Trojan Horse' turned it into a nuclear wasteland a week ago. You're lucky, after a fashion; you survived.
Like prisoners in Newgate, or passengers on a Holocaust train, you've all paid an entry fee, an odd, forced collusion in your own fate, as if imprisonment, forced labor, starvation, rape, torture and slaughter were subjects for a holiday excursion.
You've been talking to the soldiers outside. They control every element of the holding pen: who comes in, who leaves, when and for how long the lights go out, who gets blankets, who gets fed. You don't get to talk to the women, though they might talk to you. When the lights go out and the radio signals phase out for the evening, you can hear them whispering their stories to each other.
Outside, the resistance goes on in fits and starts. A barricaded street here, a safehouse there. Numbers stations played over illicit radio channels: signals coded in numbers, sound effects and sketches of old tunes, with instructions for anyone out there still fighting. Hearing them in this place is both a thin ray of hope and a sure sign that the invading Greek army is listening for them and attempting to translate them, with the help of collaborators. The collaborators are detested, of course, but after a few beatings or worse, it gets easy to think, well, maybe, just for a while. Just for a meal. Just long enough to save your strength. A few days in a place like this, and you'll undoubtedly understand things you never wanted to.
(This is what happens when they let gamers direct.)
Anyway, hope to see you there!