Okay, but what about marathons tho. Humans are built to follow animals on foot. Until the animal literally gives up and dies. That’s how we hunt. We’re not super fast or claw-y or bite-y. we just keep running. Forever.
Imagine aliens finding out about marathons. Aliens who are stealth predators or evolved from sedentary species learning that humans just straight up run their prey to death.
Alien Wimu: Human Nik, I have been watching this hologram for several ngu’la. What are these humans doing? Human Nik: Oh, wow, that’s the Olympics! It’s a competition where humans see who is the best at various physical tasks. This is the marathon, I think? Alien Wiro: We have tests of physical prowess on Mngumu as well. But I have been watching for several ngu’la and these humans have been running the entire time. I am concerned. Are they well? Has something gone wrong with the event? Is something chasing them? Human Nik: Nope, that’s the event! It’s actually really cool. A long time ago, this human ran – a bunch of kilometers? Something like 40, I think – because he was carrying a message to a place called Marathon from … someplace in Greece because of a war or something. He died I think. Anyway, now a lot of people do it! I actually ran a half-marathon for charity once. It was pretty grueling but it felt really good. Alien Wiro: …I’m sorry, but I believe you said 40 kilometers. That is equivalent to roughly 349 shmo! Human Nik: Yeah, that sounds about right. Alien Wiro: And you said the original person died? Human Nik: Well, I think. But like I said we train for it now. It’s not so bad, really. Alien Wiro: … Human Nik: Anyway, thanks for showing me! It’s really easy to lose track of time up here, wow. Had no idea the Olympics were happening. Alien Wiro: …
Working desk job means exactly this: apartment, tube, workplace, tube, apartment. It’s hard to find sunlight anymore, but he doesn’t think he minds: maybe he’s already used to this. It’s been longer than he cares to remember.
He spends about two hours a day on the tube - not much compared to the amount of time he spends in his booth at work, but he doesn’t really register those eight hours. It’s like his mind switches itself off the moment he arrives to work and leaves him running on muscle memory alone. Time operates the same way when he’s at home, so by now maybe he’s only really conscious during the two hours on the tube.
Sometimes he stays back on the tube past his stop. Sometimes until it reaches the end of the line. Sometimes he takes the tube with the intention of going somewhere specific, but then just sits there as his destination flies past him into the dark tunnel he’s just passed. Sometimes he goes down into the stop, just to hear the quiet again.
Sometimes he sees maintenance doors somewhere in the tunnels, and for no reason he keeps their locations in mind.
Sometimes the tube takes a turn that he doesn’t recognize, and he feels his heart beating faster all of a sudden. He would stare at the railway through the window pane, counting the seconds, until the tube runs past a corner he knows, or until he reaches his destination. Those moments still happen to him after two years of taking the tube to go… anywhere, really. He thinks he has the whole map learned by heart by now, but the underground keeps proving him wrong.
There’s a community online for tube dwellers. He doesn’t know any of the dozen of members, online or offline, but he has come by some of them on other forums before. They don’t seem to be of any particular profile: there are men, there are women, ranged from 20 to maybe older than 50. The posts are few and far between, but some of them detail everything reachable by the tube. There are things even he doesn’t know.
He screenshots some of the posts and keeps the photos in a separate folder, for no particular reason.
The community hasn’t had a new activity for about three months by now. The members call themselves Rats. He checks through some of their personal pages on that site; the ones he checks have all been abandoned.
Maybe they’re tired of the lack of sunlight in the tube, he thinks on the way to work. The tube sways and trembles quietly, its hum fills the air. Humans aren’t made for the underground afterall.
concept of something vaguely formed in my head. I call it Rats of Spice City.
Shout out to my husband for literally pushing me off the couch to get to the gym this morning. I was definitely content sitting in my pajamas, but I’m glad I got my butt working! Ran a 5K for @mymonthlyworkoutchallenge and for @plussizeadventure’s virtual 5K! Woot woot!
Okay, I’m hoping for some big battle against the Court of Owls at the end of the season that everyone gets involved in
And it’ll mean Eddie and Ozzie calling a temporary truce to their personal antagonism in order to survive the onslaught of Court assassins being sent after them (or whatever)
Then, during an ‘eye of the storm’ moment when they are hiding and unsure of their survival, they should take the time for a bit of emotional honesty. Which will be all serious and stuff - Eddie confessing he is glad Oswald survived and he is sorry he tried to kill him and Ozzie was right about them needing each other and stuff. And Ozzie would confess he still loves Ed and all that jazz
But MOST IMPORTANTLY it would include something like -
OSWALD [soft, genuine]: I’m sorry I killed Isabella.