Biker Mice From Mars Headcanons!
I decided to gather them all up and share them here so I don’t forget them, and y’all can enjoy them too! :D
-The mice are a bit of an open secret. Which is to say, most of Chicago knows about them, since they're not exactly subtle nor do they tend to keep a low profile or anything. No one rats them out to the government or anything because they appreciate what they do for the city.
-Throttle removes his field specs as a show of sincerity. Basically, when he takes off his shades, he renders himself blind, which is a show of trust. It's like “trust me, see, you could easily take advantage and attack me right now and I'm trusting you not to."
-Vinnie didn't meet Throttle and Modo until Stoker stuck 'em together in a unit with the Freedom Fighters, and at first, the two didn't get along with him. But Vinnie eventually earned their respect and friendship.
-Regarding Martian motorcycles, first off, the mouse doesn't pick their bike, the bike picks them, at least when it's an AI. There's actually three kinds of bikes on Mars, Deluxe AI, Standard AI, and Stock. The only real difference between a Deluxe and Standard AI is that the Deluxe ones come with a voice and can actually speak. (Think KITT from Knight Rider.) BUT, they're hard to come by, and very expensive, plus you still have to be accepted as a rider to even get one in the first place. So they're super rare. Less rare are the standard AI bikes, which are the type the guys have. They have just as much intelligence and personality as the Deluxe AI, but are much easier and cheaper to come by. They just beep instead of talk, but an experienced rider, like Modo for example, can understand them just fine. The stock bikes are the easiest and cheapest to come by, and they're basically the same as Earth bikes. No AI or anything like that. They're mostly used by the military, since (at least, before the Plutarkian war) most mice didn't want to risk their AI bikes on the battlefield.
-Vinnie is basically a pageant kid, but with motocross instead. Which is to say, his single dad raised him to compete in motocross races and win from a young age. He's really good too, which is why he's got an ego the size of Chicago. XD
-Throttle is bisexual, (I mean...”Hello, beautiful citizens” at what appears to be a couple on a date? XD) and his parents weren't too happy when they found out. Throttle's dad tried to beat it out of him. His older sister Clutch was the only one who accepted him but she couldn't do a whole lot to protect him because she was already moved out and busy with her job as a ballet dancer.
-Martian society is a little obsessed with Earth, and it’s languages. Pretty much everyone on Mars can speak at least English, if not several other Earth languages. They picked it up from radio signals broadcast from Earth.
-Throttle didn’t get a bike until he joined the Freedom Fighters, but it is actually his sister’s. When the FFs freed the labour camp he and Modo were in, they also saved as many bikes as they could and tried to reunite them with their riders. When Modo went to see if his bike was there, Throttle went with him, and found his sister’s bike among the rest. Unfortunately, she wasn’t among the mice rescued from the camp, and remains missing to this day, so Throttle took her bike for himself. He intends to give it back if he ever finds her.
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I am deep in my anger about the ignorance/apathy that the majority of abled Americans have about how deeply fucked up this country's treatment of disabled people is. Not only am I ENRAGED by it, but also it doesn't make logical sense! Don't they know they will become us? Don't they know that it is only the unlucky who die too young to develop a disability? Don't they understand what's coming for them??
I want to be legally allowed to save money! I want to be allowed to marry my wife legally! I want to be able to buy nice things and go on vacations, instead of being trapped at home with no wheelchair and no ramp! And I am only 29! Everyone knows when you get old here, you get locked away in a sad understaffed facility, and folks are out here acting like they'll never grow old!
The only thing keeping my grief and my feelings of helplessness against a massive enemy from overwhelming me is this project I've been working on with some new friends.
There's this piece of land, you see. It's huge and beautiful and being sold way WAY under market price. And there's a chance - not a guarantee but a real chance - that I will have the opportunity to live in this beautiful green place and to build a community and a free medical treatment center there that will change and save lives.
I see before me a path to create a bright spot of rest and love in the darkness, where I can prove to person after person - and to myself - that a better life IS possible, right here in America, where most of can't afford to leave. In America, we are meant to believe a life of poverty is just something some people deserve. They don't. No one does. And I have a chance to make sure as many people as possible know they do not deserve to be left behind.
The world does not need more heroes. The world needs more care. The world needs places to rest. People need to be told that they are valued even if they cannot labor - and THEN they need to be treated like they deserve help and have value beyond their labor.
I spend a large part of my life trying to prove to the government and doctors that I am poor enough/sick enough/disabled enough (in the exact ways they approve of) to receive help. - Without this constant, intricate song and dance of evil banality and arbitrary denial and cruel loopholes, I can be denied what I need to live. (I am only alive because I have the privilege of having rich relatives, who paid for my college education and currently pay my rent.) If I was not able to afford an assistant, I would already have lost all of my benefits. Currently, I am at risk of losing my Medicaid because I missed an unexpected "prove to a doctor you are still disabled" deadline. There is a massive and ongoing burden of proof in this country placed on disabled people and subject to the whims of rich white abled judges and the minutiae of paperwork.
That's why it's so important that I have this opportunity to help people. I cannot tell you what it will mean to me the day I get to look someone in the face and tell them that their housing and medical treatment will be free as long as they need it and with nothing expected in return. I wanna meet someone who has been trying their hardest for as long as they can remember to build a stable life, and I want to be able to tell them to please try their softest. To prove to me nothing. To take their time. I will tell them that I need neither justification nor evidence to believe them when they say they need help. I want to be living proof that people deserve help just by being alive on this planet. I want to be included as part of that. I deserve a soft place to land too.
Also this property has a wheelchair ramp, meaning I could finally get a wheelchair after 2 years of needing and not having one!
One of the other members of the team has already brought up building a system of elder care on the property that would allow people to receive comprehensive health care as they age and to remain part of a vibrant community!
There's Hope. There's Real Hope. I can hardly believe it.
And if this particular opportunity doesn't work out, well, I'm never going to stop pursuing that dream. Never. I will either get there or die having journeyed towards it my whole life, and in doing so, I will have made this world a little softer in a million other ways, and I will have made the path a little easier to walk for whoever comes after me. I used to want to leave destruction in my wake or die trying. But in this, I will leave creation in my wake, and I will live trying. (And if doing so allows people to grow strong enough to destroy evil institutions... good.)
I am going to look at every cruelty of this system that nearly killed me, and I'm going to foster the right conditions to do the exact opposite. I will take the ableism of my family who wouldn't believe that I couldn't work even when I was dying, and I will do the opposite. Oh, the people I will believe! The people I will help feed! The people I will protect and build strong houses and long tables with! The people I will learn from! - I haven't even met most of them yet! How exciting that my life may still yet be long and full of wonders!!
I hope anyone reading this who has also at some point felt like a long life would be a curse, especially if they feel like that right now... I wanted to say that me and my friends and people like us - and opportunities like the one I've been blessed with - will only be able to help you if you stay alive long enough to be found. Or to find us, as the case may be.
If you can't live long enough, it's not your fault. Truly, it's not; and your death would be a tragic loss to yourself and to this world that I cannot begin to describe because it would make me so sad my literal heart would start to hurt and I'd never get to bed tonight.
But please, please, hold on with everything you have, for as long as you possibly can. Please handle your heart with the gentlest hands you can muster. I need you to live long enough to sit at our table because nothing is guaranteed except that you must be alive to do it. And I'm saving you a seat that only you can have, and without you it will remain forever empty and our table forever incomplete. You are invited to this party, and it just won't be as good without you. I'm a lousy cook, but I'm making friends with chefs, and I promise I will make sure you have enough food. There will be music and laughter and dancing. Some of us will dance in our wheelchairs. Some of us will hug and cry and plant flowers. All of us will stare in amazement of the better days we once thought impossible.
And I for one will be so fucking happy to see you there. I will take you by your hand, look you in the eye, and with the greatest, warmest relief in my heart, I will thank you for living to share this day with me. Because I know damn well that it was stupid fucking hard, and that it is not okay how hard it was.
But, look, now the sunset is warm upon our faces and the children are laughing with the community elders, and we can sleep knowing we are not alone. We made it. We really made it.
And maybe it's not specifically me and it's not specifically you - the metaphor has its limits. But there are so many people like me who want a better world, and there are so many people like you who deserve to live to see it.
And if we never see better days, then I will count each day we survive as a victory and a rebellion, because that's what they will be. I will cherish and live for each little bit of love and joy we carve out of the darkness.
But a better life does not become impossible until we are dead. Which means as long as we still live, there is Hope.
Have courage and be kind, friend. Be kind to yourself especially - even if you can only do so a little bit at a time, it's worth the practice. Turns out it is harder to live than to die. But I care that you are found.
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Optional musical accompaniment to this post bc I've never had any chill and I don't see why I should start now:
A practical song about managing anxiety with the line "i care that you breathe" in it
Brian David Gilbert's beautiful song "See the Day"
A song about surviving while sick in America, and which I am told once saved a life
A lovely nerdy song called "Critical Hit" that inspires me on the days I have a little more energy
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I recently stumbled across your art. I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s so comforting. I’m so in love with your work. I don’t have the money to ask for a commission rn but when I do I’m heading your way.
Love your work sm, keep doing what you do and take care of yourself <3
Thank you so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You have no idea how much this means to me. Especially after, like tmi, but like such a rotten day. Like I am over the moon to hear that you love it. That means so soo much to me. Thank you <333 I hope you have such a wonderful rest of your day!!! <333
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