Myth Into History, Week 5: Classical History I [Thurs/1st Period, Danger Shop]
As soon as students entered the Danger Shop today, they would find themselves just inside the gates of a city under siege. Burned-out buildings, armed battlements, the works. Most notable, however, was the presence of a giant wooden horse (that for some reason looked more like wicker) in the center of the courtyard; the students' tables were set up under the looming watchful . . . lack of eyes in the horse's head. Yes, it's a huge f**k-off horse, okay?
Janice was leaning against the horse's foreleg, smoking a cigar. "Welcome to Troy," she said once everyone had arrived. "Ancient accounts are filled with stories of great battles, and the Trojan War is one of them. Probably the most famous. Now, women really got screwed over by most versions of the story."
Under her breath, she added, "You'd think that Gabrielle would've set her buddy Homer straight on the record, but nooooo . . ." Annoyed, she jabbed her cigar into the Horse, completely forgetting the stogey was lit, and didn't notice the growing wisps of smoke as she turned back around to address the class.
"If you've ever heard the phrase 'the face that launched a thousand ships,' you've pretty much heard of Helen of Troy. They say the Trojan War started because of her, and more scheming on the parts of Athena, Hera, and Aphrodite. The three goddesses had Paris judge who was the fairest of all of them, and Helen -- a mere mortal -- beat all three of them in his opinion. So of course they couldn't have this, and had her run off and ditch her husband Menelaus to go to Troy with Paris. Menelaus wouldn't stand for it, naturally, and went after her -- but of course then it stopped being about Helen, and turned into a big stupid pissing contest. Men. Go figure . . ."
That was when Janice realized the Horse was on fire. "Dammit! It's a war tactic, not a -- wrong culture!" She went into a flurry of remote-button punching and finally, somehow, managed to put the fire out and reset the Horse.
Which, for some reason now had a small army of carpet sweepers standing next to it.
Several Greek soldiers popped out of the horse, grabbed the carpet sweepers, and clambered back inside. Shortly after, muffled choruses of voices could be heard from within. "Hod-d-d-d-d-d, hod-d-d-d-d-d," they seemed to be saying.
Janice stared. "What the hell?"
Two soldiers hopped out again. "Hello!" said one of them, waving. "I'm Agamemnon. This is Ajax. We were just doing a spot of cleaning."
"What. The. Hell?" Janice said again, gesturing wildly with the remote as she jabbed the buttons to send them away. "Greeks with British accents . . . stupid computer. Anyway. Take a few minutes to read the chapter in your books about the Trojan War, and then you get to do a brainstorming session to prep for next week's activity."
Once everyone had finished reading, she hit the remote again and transformed the room into what appeared to be a small, well-stocked, but very rustic sort of warehouse. Racks of barrels lined two of the walls, worktables and benches were set up and decently spaced out even though this was long before ergonomics studies and OSHA regulations, and large wicker baskets packed with bottles and corks were scattered across the floor.
"You all get to be villagers from a small place that makes its living bottling seltzer water. You're going to be attacked by a warlord any day now, and there aren't any warriors in the area to help bail you out." She very pointedly didn't mention that this would be because Callisto had poisoned Xena. She didn't need the inevitable headache that would result. "All you have is a warehouse full of soda, bottles, and whatever other ordinary village items are around. Improvise yourselves a battle plan, and we'll see how it works out next week."
[OOC: Class Info Post. OCD is up!]
Janice was leaning against the horse's foreleg, smoking a cigar. "Welcome to Troy," she said once everyone had arrived. "Ancient accounts are filled with stories of great battles, and the Trojan War is one of them. Probably the most famous. Now, women really got screwed over by most versions of the story."
Under her breath, she added, "You'd think that Gabrielle would've set her buddy Homer straight on the record, but nooooo . . ." Annoyed, she jabbed her cigar into the Horse, completely forgetting the stogey was lit, and didn't notice the growing wisps of smoke as she turned back around to address the class.
"If you've ever heard the phrase 'the face that launched a thousand ships,' you've pretty much heard of Helen of Troy. They say the Trojan War started because of her, and more scheming on the parts of Athena, Hera, and Aphrodite. The three goddesses had Paris judge who was the fairest of all of them, and Helen -- a mere mortal -- beat all three of them in his opinion. So of course they couldn't have this, and had her run off and ditch her husband Menelaus to go to Troy with Paris. Menelaus wouldn't stand for it, naturally, and went after her -- but of course then it stopped being about Helen, and turned into a big stupid pissing contest. Men. Go figure . . ."
That was when Janice realized the Horse was on fire. "Dammit! It's a war tactic, not a -- wrong culture!" She went into a flurry of remote-button punching and finally, somehow, managed to put the fire out and reset the Horse.
Which, for some reason now had a small army of carpet sweepers standing next to it.
Several Greek soldiers popped out of the horse, grabbed the carpet sweepers, and clambered back inside. Shortly after, muffled choruses of voices could be heard from within. "Hod-d-d-d-d-d, hod-d-d-d-d-d," they seemed to be saying.
Janice stared. "What the hell?"
Two soldiers hopped out again. "Hello!" said one of them, waving. "I'm Agamemnon. This is Ajax. We were just doing a spot of cleaning."
"What. The. Hell?" Janice said again, gesturing wildly with the remote as she jabbed the buttons to send them away. "Greeks with British accents . . . stupid computer. Anyway. Take a few minutes to read the chapter in your books about the Trojan War, and then you get to do a brainstorming session to prep for next week's activity."
Once everyone had finished reading, she hit the remote again and transformed the room into what appeared to be a small, well-stocked, but very rustic sort of warehouse. Racks of barrels lined two of the walls, worktables and benches were set up and decently spaced out even though this was long before ergonomics studies and OSHA regulations, and large wicker baskets packed with bottles and corks were scattered across the floor.
"You all get to be villagers from a small place that makes its living bottling seltzer water. You're going to be attacked by a warlord any day now, and there aren't any warriors in the area to help bail you out." She very pointedly didn't mention that this would be because Callisto had poisoned Xena. She didn't need the inevitable headache that would result. "All you have is a warehouse full of soda, bottles, and whatever other ordinary village items are around. Improvise yourselves a battle plan, and we'll see how it works out next week."
[OOC: Class Info Post. OCD is up!]