Irrational Feelings 1:

by Fur and Fantasy
R on Principle
full contents and notes located at the bottom of the file

Like a blazing star the crippled scoutship fell from orbit, beginning to break up as it plunged through the atmosphere. Fishing in the sea below, a group of Martian Lup-Maru saw the ship burn up and then crash into the ocean. They also saw the pod fire from the side of the dying ship, its parachute deploying after it cleared the ship, and drop into the sea not far offshore.

"Not possible." A large tan and cream female stared at the descending craft. "She's one of ours."

"Let the bastard drown." A pitch black male, small and lithe, spat.

"Might be kin." The third member of the canoe crew pointed out. "Two tribes and a half dozen families staid on Mars."

"We can always kill it later." The big female decided, ending the discussion as they began to paddle to the escape pod's landing site.

"Hello, stranger." A soft female voice greeted the soaked Mouse as he came around.

"Oh, mama. What a headache." Modo said before he opened his natural eye. "Hello." He said politely, since his mama hadn't raised a rude Mouse. The female clearly a Martian like him, smiled gently down with solid black eyes.

"I can give you a drink for that headache," the voluptuously plump light tan Lup-Maru offered gently.

"That'd be appreciated, ma'am." Modo said politely, slightly in shock at seeing a Martian he didn't recognize. He couldn't remember the last time that had happened.

"Do you have a name, stranger?" She asked as she picked up a palm-sized bowl and filled it with water and some powder.

"Yes, I'm Modo, ma'am." He said, his mind trying to work out where this Lup-Maru could be from.

"I'm Summer's Green." The matronly female turned back to help him drink. "Your mother named you well, I think." She smiled. "She certainly taught you manners."

"Poor manners didn't sit well with Mama." Modo said, as he drank. "Thank you, ma'am." He said as he finished the drink. "Where am I? If you don't mind me asking."

"I don't mind any questions, Modo." She smiled gently at him and set the bowl down. "I'm sure you'll have many. This world is called Ryzzina, you are in the village of Windcrest Green."

"Don't remember that world on the maps." He said quietly. "I'm not seeing things am I?" He asked hesitantly. "You really are a Martian aren't you?" The tone of his voice was that of one who wanted to believe but had too many reasons not to.

"You are not seeing things, Modo." She smiled gently and brushed the fur of his forehead with a wet cloth. "We left Mars to colonize a new home six generations ago."

"Six generations? Then you don't know." He said quietly, the old pain coming up again.

"Of the war." She said softly. "That our world has been stripped bare. We know. We saw it coming. We believed the prophecies and Seers, and we found a new home. Now it has come to pass, and soon it will be time to return and rebuild."

"Not much to build on." He said, the pain intensifying. "Nothing green left on Mars. And there's more Mice here I bet, than on all of Mars."

Summer's Green rested a gentle, firm hand on his chest, over his heart with fingers spread and met his eyes squarely. "We know Modo. We are prepared."

"That's good." He said quietly. "Be good to see things turn around. How'd I get here? Last thing I remember the Plutarkians were pounding the hell out of my ship."

"You used an escape pod, fell into the sea nearby. One of the fishing parties saw and pulled you out of the water." She smiled gently at him. "Your ship disintegrated before impact."

"My thanks to that fishing party." Modo said easily. "Guess that puts an end to my search though." He sighed deeply.

"Search for what, Modo?" She asked gently.

"My Bros." He said sadly, as the pain of missing them washed over him again.

"They were on the ship?"

"No, I was using the ship to look for them." He said softly. "We got separated years ago, and I've been looking for them ever since."

"Then there is still hope." She smiled gently and patted his furred shoulder. "I will have a couple of kits bring you a proper meal soon. It is important that you eat and drink. I can tell your body is not used to the heat here. It is very easy to become badly sick without enough water."

"Thank you, ma'am. No, Mars isn't this warm, Earth wasn't either." He said quietly, feeling a bit tired. "I really appreciate what you've done for me."

"Six generations here have taught us that not every outsider is a threat." She smiled and patted his shoulder. "You rest, we can sort out details later."

"Yes, ma'am." Modo said quietly, relaxing. Part of his mind wondered why these Mice had left Mars, but so far they'd treated him good so he didn't worry about it. It just felt good to back among a community of Martians after so long.

"Hello, Modo." A fairly petite male Lup-Maru in his late teens greeted the muscular gray mouse a little while later. "I'm Thildon. Feel up to eating something light, sweet and watery?"

"Sounds good, thank you." He said with a friendly smile as the reddish-brown warrior pulled a stool over with his tail and sat down.

"Healer Summer's Green said you should get as much liquid as possible," Thildon said by way of explanation of the meal. "The orange fruit is particularly tasty in my opinion." He added as he held the tray of sliced fruit where the visitor could reach it easily from the hammock.

"Thanks, Thildon." He said as he took a bite of the orange fruit. "You're right, this is good." He smiled taking another, followed by a drink of the deep blue liquid.

"Up for talking a little, Modo?" He asked, clearly curious.

"Sure, if you don't mind my eating while we talk." He said with an encouraging smile.

"Summer's Green would skin me alive if I stopped you from eating with my chatter." Thildon grinned, his youth and lack of war-experience showing. "Were you really born on Mars?"

"Yep, back before the war when Mars was still green and alive." He said remembering the all too brief good days before the war. He nibbled quietly trying one of the other colors of fruit.

"Way cool." He grinned. "It's been a long time since we had any news, outside of what the Seers say, at least. Oh, and feel free to ask me questions too. I don't know as much about everything as Summer's Green, but I'm a full warrior."

"How big a community is this?" Modo asked curiously. "I haven't been around more than two or three other Mice in a long time."

"Windcrest Green has a standing population of sixty-two Lup-Maru." Thildon smiled gently. "I think all the islands combined have close to seven thousand. There aren't any Mice in the colonies, I'm afraid."

"Wow." Modo said quietly, seriously stunned. "I was right, there's more folks here than on Mars." He took a sip from the bowl. "Good place to crash, given that not crashing wasn't possible."

"I think so," Thildon smiled.

Modo moved his metal arm and felt a strange, but familiar sensation. "Thildon, do you happen to know if I was in the water when the fishing party found me?" He asked not sure if fishing party meant boats or people on shore.

"You were pulled out of the water." He said curiously. "The arm's not watertight?"

"Wish it was." Modo said quietly. "Probably take a week for the water to dry out. Fortunately most of the circuits aren't damaged by water, it just plays with some the motors. Kind of like a real bad overextension, it'll ache a lot till it dries."

"Starcrossed might be able to do something about it." Thildon offered uncertainly. "She's got a lot of Gifts for technology."

"That'd be great, if she could." Modo said as he continued nibbling. "Nutcase who gave me it, didn't think to make it watertight."

"You didn't want it?" Thildon regarded the big gray mouse curiously.

"No, I didn't want a perfectly good arm cut off and replaced with this." He said with a low growl. "Sorry, Thildon. I'm still a bit touchy about it." He said, apologizing.

"It's okay, Modo." The reddish mouse smiled and squeezed Modo's shoulder with his tail. "We have cybernetics. I didn't think it was involuntary. That sucks, and not in a good way."

That comment drew a grin out of the big gray mouse. "If you got someone who knows cybernetics I probably should have them look at this if they will. I don't know if these things are supposed to be serviced by expert regularly or what. I've been kind of doing self maintenance since I got it."

"That would be Starcrossed," Thildon grinned back. "Maybe she can see about making it look a bit better too, and see to your eyes."

"That'd be too much to hope for." Modo murmured, though he clearly liked the idea. "So, is there work around here for a pair of willing hands?" He asked, as he started thinking long term.

"Always," Thildon grinned and moved the tray a little closer. "Don't forget to eat, Modo. Hunting, fishing, tending to kits and the food plants, keeping the village in order ... there is always more work to be done. Does anything sound interesting?"

"Fishing and Hunting I both know." He said easily. "Though I always fished from shore. Hunting I enjoy, while fishing I always did for relaxation."

"Well, we'll see about getting you on a fishing party when Summer's Green says you're good to go." Thildon smiled. "I doubt you'll be hunting though."

"Oh, why's that?" He asked curiously, nibbling at the fruit in-between.

"Hunting is a warrior's job." Thildon said simply.

"Look, Thildon. I've been a soldier and a commando since I was fifteen. Spent my whole life fighting to try to protect my world, and then to protect another one. I'll match my fighting skills against anyone's." He said determinedly. "I was still hunting on Mars, after the devastation when game was truly scarce and food short, and I was good."

Thildon put a firm, relaxed hand on the big mouse's shoulder. "Calm down, Modo. I wasn't trying to say you couldn't or weren't. If you want to be acknowledged as a warrior, that can be done. But for now you don't have that status. We don't have such lean times that the order of things is broken for survival's sake."

"Sorry, just been a long time since I had to prove myself. Especially since I've never been anything but a warrior." He said softly. "And I do want to be, it's who I am."

"Then we will talk to the chief and elders when you are fit and the healers let you loose."

"Thanks, Thildon." Modo smiled, as he finished the bowl of blue liquid.

"I should warn you though, it will not be an easy path to gain warrior status." He said gently. "I will teach you our ways, if you would like. It might make understanding how the day-to-day things work. I expect some of it will seem very strange to you."

"Nothing worth doing is ever easy." Modo said simply. "And I'd appreciate that."

"Umm, is there anything you're curious about?" Thildon said uncertainly. "I'm not a teacher, but I'll try."

Modo smiled. "Probably if I knew where the differences were I'd know what to ask. What's the most important?"

"Umm, rank means a lot." Thildon thought back to his earliest lessons, the ones that were all but instinct now. "We aren't very formal, but it and blood are what tie us together, keep things calm and ordered. As an unestablished visitor, you hold the lowest rank. You need to obey nearly everyone, and stay clear of the kits unless specifically invited by the adult watching them."

"Low mouse on the totem pole, got it. And the bit about the kits makes sense." Modo nodded. "And just how far does that obey go?" He asked curiously.

"You aren't a slave." Thildon said firmly. "Your body is your own, and no one can order you to hurt yourself or another. Only the chief can order you to leave the village itself, but any adult can order you to leave where you are. You can ask why. It is very much like the rules for kits, really."

"Okay, that's reasonable." Modo said releasing the tension he hadn't even realized was there. "If I get conflicting orders from two people, do I go with the last orders or the orders from the higher ranking person? And how do I identify these ranks?" He asked, putting on his military mindset.

"That's kind of a common sense one. You generally want to go with the highest rank, but if the new one makes sense, go with it. Just explain the conflict with the one giving it. We're reasonable and all, but we don't get many visitors." Thildon explained. "As for telling rank, you just have to remember, really. Most warriors were loincloths like me, and most non-warriors wear dresses ... you'll be introduced to the few with real rank. Summer's Green outranks everyone."

"Okay, it's all pretty common sense so far." Modo nodded, and then chuckled softly. "And I'm glad you said 'most', cause there ain't no way I'm putting on a dress." He smiled, clearly amused. "So far, none of this what I'd call strange."

Thildon chuckled. "You'd look very good in the kind Meesha likes, but you can wear nearly anything you want."

"If you say so." Modo chuckled. "But my gray furred mama didn't raise her son to wear a dress."

Thildon raised an eyebrow at that. "Well, I think we just found a cultural difference you'll find weird. Why wouldn't she want you to wear a dress?"

"I don't know." Moto shrugged. "Guys just don't."

"Well, it's normal here. It's just a kind of clothing."

"I suppose, just not one I'd wear. Though if that's the weirdest things get, that'll be good." He smiled, though the absorb image of himself in some fancy evening gown just wouldn't get out of his head.

"Well, I don't know what you're used to, so it's hard to guess." Thildon shrugged. "Do you have a mate back home?"

"Nope, never found the right person." He said quietly. "Thought I might have on Earth, but then me and my Bros got scattered to the stars."

"At least it's not kits and mate to wonder if you are dead." Thildon said softly, carefully concealing how pleased the answer made him.

"No, thankfully that's not the case." He said quietly. "Just my Bros out there somewhere."

"While there is life, there is hope to finding them." Thildon said softy. "I'm sure you'll find them eventually."

"Anything's possible." Modo smiled softly. "But if my search is going to pause for awhile, this seems like a good place. It's good to be back among Mice again." He said warmly.

"I bet." He laid a gentle hand on Modo's shoulder. "You're among good people now. You're welcome for as long as you want to stay."

"Thank you." Moto smiled gratefully.

"Umm, how do you feel about same-gender mates?" Thildon asked quietly.

Modo smiled gently. "That's what my last serious interest was."

The rusty mouse relaxed. "Good. There are quite a few here. Both traditional warrior/ keeper pairings and warrior/ warrior, keeper/ keeper."

"That's good to know." Modo nodded. "Was kind of curious, but didn't want to ask right away." He smirked. "I thought it might me look like I was a little obsessed with the subject."

"Possibly, though that's hardly a bad thing." Thildon chuckled and relaxed back. "Sex is definitely a major form of recreation around here."

"That's a plus." Modo grinned.

"Glad you think so." He grinned back. "I expect you'll get a fair amount of attention."

"That'll be a change." Modo chuckled. "But then I don't got pretty boy soaking up the attention." He smiled, though there was an edge of sadness to it.

"Sounds like folks didn't know how to appreciate a good catch when they see it then." Thildon grinned. "You've got a hell of a body."

Modo smiled, though he was a bit surprised by the unexpected compliment. "Thanks. You're rather attractive yourself."

"Thank you." he smiled back. "It's sad you don't think yourself attractive, Modo." He said softly.

Modo shrugged. "I just hung around with two guys who were really attractive, and didn't have this." He looked at the metal arm. "Except for Jeremy, people didn't tend to notice me that way."

"Your arm was a problem?" Thildon was truly shocked. "I'm not even going to try to understand that one." He shook his head.

"Always figured it was 'cause people didn't wanna get hung with the second cousin to a crowbar." He chuckled weakly. "And people tend to be uncomfortable around those with deformities."

"That is not a deformity." Thildon's tail lashed sharply before he controlled it. "I'm sorry you had the misfortune of being with such people." He shook his head and calmed down. "It's not a deformity here, Modo. It's just your arm."

Modo smiled, as he took a second look at the serious young mouse. "Thanks, Thildon. Guess part of the problem is that I'm not entirely comfortable with it." He said quietly.

"Because it wasn't your choice." He said as much as asked, his voice soft.

"Yeah, that's probably it." He said softly. "It's like part of me never made it out of the lab."

"If you're with us long, Starcrossed can probably work up something more natural looking, let it look like you want, at least." He sat down and put a hand on Modo's shoulder. "We can't get your arm back, but we can give you the ability to choose it this time."

Modo smiled. "I have this feeling I'm going to be here awhile." He paused slightly. "And it feels like a good thing."

"I'm glad to hear that, and I know some of the others will be too." His smile faded. "There are those that will take some work to win over though. A lot of us were lost in the war, and not everyone has forgiven it. Until you're part of the village, it's a painful reminder."

"I know." Modo said quietly. "Sometimes I've thought that the Plutarkian invasion was a punishment for that hatred and the deaths it caused." There was a distinctly sad note to his voice.

"That they won is a result of it." Thildon said with quiet certainty. "I don't think the invasion itself was though."

"Maybe not." Modo said quietly. "Never could stand that ignorant hatred myself. Not exactly a popular opinion to hold." He chuckled weakly.

"No, but that outlook will keep you alive and eventually accepted here." Thildon smiled.

Modo chuckled slightly. "That's a switch. Dad always said it would get me killed one day. He didn't actually disagree, just thought I was a bit too tactless about it."

"Still might, but you'll have a home and family for it."

"Getting killed for home and family is something I accepted a long time ago." Modo said easily. "Every soldier does."

Thildon nodded. "Every warrior too." He hesitated. "Is any of your family alive?"

"Only one who might be is my nephew, Rimfire." Modo said quietly. "I hope he is."

"Do you know if he's as reasonable as you?"

"Yeah, he's been brought up right. Wasn't time during the war to keep hyping that nonsense, so the kits got spared a lot of the propaganda." He said with a fond smile, remembering the good times.

"Any other reasonable folks you know?" Thildon asked quietly. "We do intend to end that war when we return. The more who will join us in the rebuilding, the better."

"I don't know who's left really. Our contact with Mars has been spotty." He said quietly. "Wish Throttle was here, he's the most reasonable mouse I know, and a good leader too. And my Bro."

"Have you felt him pass on?" Thildon asked gently.

"No, can't say I have." Throttle said quietly. He was a little skeptical about a lot of the afterlife stuff. Especially the part about the spirit needing to be Remembered to move on, it seemed awfully cruel to condemn the spirits of the last of the race to die to being trapped for eternity.

"Then there is good hope," Thildon said with absolute confidence. "As close as you are, you would feel it."

"Yeah, you're probably right. 'Sides, Throttle's a survivor. He got us through prison, the camps and the lab. He'll probably find me." He chuckled softly feeling a little better about things.

"Could well be, which makes staying put make even more sense." Thildon patted his shoulder. "I think you'll like it here."

"I think so too." Modo smiled.

Irrational Feelings 1: Prolog

R on Principle
Het Level is Low
Slash Level is
Femslash Level is None
Herm Level is None

21 KB, Story is Complete, Series is Finished
Written August 31, 2002 by Rauhnee Ranshanka, Todd McCall and Vorex

Setting: Biker Mice from Mars, Haloeth

Primary Races: Human, Loup Maru, Martian Mice

Contents: Furry. Het (M/F). Slash (M/M).

Pairings: Modo/Thildon

Blurb: Modo finds a new home.

Disclaimer: All things taken directly from the sources listed under 'Fandoms' belong to the owners of those shows. No harm is intended and we're definitely not making any money. Now, the things we created are ours, and if you see 'Non-FanFic' up there, it's probably all ours.

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