Tumgik
#tabbers
breakfastteatime · 10 months
Text
Today's request is 'You've got one minute' for @ralndown ^_^
Every time Cal thinks he’s settling into a routine on Bracca, something awful happens. Maybe the Ibis Maw gets hungry for flesh and grabs a tentacleful of unsuspecting scrappers. Maybe a ship that’s been in the same place for two years suddenly decides to collapse under its own weight. Maybe someone breaks something aboard an old terraforming lab and suddenly there’s a bunch of people turned into trees.
Today, Cal’s crew makes it halfway through their shift before the worst, most terrifying siren goes off. Bracca doesn’t have a lot of warnings for incoming disaster, but this one? This is the one they’re all trained to react to in one way, and one way only.
Get out. Get out now or die.
Maybe that’s why the Force left Cal feeling nauseous all day. It’s so useful like that.
Dropping the wires he’d started stripping, Cal follows the others. Prauf’s leading them and he’s already on the comms, listening intently to whatever’s being said. When he stops still and holds up a hand to make everyone else do the same, Cal shivers under the weight of the collective fear around him.
It only gets worse when Prauf starts issuing orders in a sharp tone of voice Cal’s never heard before.
“It’s a chemical leak. A bad one. We’re too deep in the ship to get out in time. Get into your emergency teams, find a room, and seal yourselves in. If we’re lucky, we’ll see each other on the other side of this thing.”
People break off into their groups. There’s no time for goodbyes or good lucks. Cal sticks close to Prauf and Tabbers. He takes a breath and immediately coughs it out, a sharp bite scraping the back of his throat. Prauf grabs him, throws him into a room, and Tabbers seals the door.
It’s not enough. The room, a tiny refresher, has an air conditioning vent high on the ceiling. Even Prauf can’t reach it to close it off. Gas seeps in. Cal hears people coughing and choking from all around, senses their fear and pain.
“We gotta seal it, now!” Tabbers shouts. His eyes stream, coughing hard. “We’ve got one minute before we’re all spitting out chunks of our lungs.” He pulls a wall panel down. “Weld this over that vent!”
“Lift me up,” Cal says. He puts his filter mask on, hoping it will help. “I can do it.”
Putting his own mask on, Prauf grabs Cal, lifting him. Cal plants his feet on Prauf’s shoulders. His eyes burn, so full of tears he can hardly keep them open. Tabbers hands him a sheet of metal and Cal presses it to the vent, welding torch in hand as he covers it up. He can’t keep his eyes open, so he trusts Prauf to guide him, molten metal sealing the panel in place.
“Good job,” Prauf says, lowing Cal down. “Sit, both of you. That gas is light, so we should be safer down here.”
Cal’s feet touch the ground. He drops to the deck moments later, eyes squeezed shut, lungs still rebelling. His mask isn’t doing much to help, but it’s better than nothing.
“Is this shit what I think it is?” Tabbers’ voice is muffled by his mask.
“Yeah,” Prauf replies. Cal hears him sit beside him. “Someone messed up big time.”
“I’d threaten to beat the idiots myself, but I cannae imagine they’re alive now,” Tabbers says.
“What is it?” Cal asks when he can talk again.
“A chemical weapon designed to rot battle droids,” Prauf says.
“Aye, not that it worked,” Tabbers adds. “It’s far better at killing us organics.”
Cal never heard about anything like that. Not that he tells the others. The idea that the Republic would create something like that leaves him nauseous.
“Looks like no one thought to remove the canisters before we started pulling this thing apart,” Prauf says. “Foreman said someone cut off the wrong thing and boom – we’re all breathing in poison.”
Cal doesn’t join the conversation. He pulls his knees to his chest, keeps his eyes firmly closed, and tries not to suffocate in the feelings of so many people dying around him. He pushes the Force away, begs it to leave him alone like it usually does.
“Cal?”
Prauf’s big, warm hand lands on his back. Cal startles, eyes flying open. His vision is fractured by the tears still running, but the burn is easier to manage now.
“You okay?” Prauf asks.
“Yeah,” he says, knowing he doesn’t have to worry about how rough his voice sounds. And then, because he needs a distraction, he keeps talking. “Can’t believe we’re stuck in a ‘fresher.”
Tabbers chuckles. “Get comfy, brat. We might be here a while.”
It’s two days before the foreman gives them the all-clear. The survivors are given a half-shift break to clean up, get something to eat and drink, and then sent back to work to make up for the two days of sitting around doing nothing. Cal notes that their crew is down several people when they meet up to be assigned duties, but no one says anything.
Back to the Bracca routine.
104 notes · View notes
spidezer · 1 year
Text
i read pre-game fics which develop a familial relationship between tabbers, prauf, and cal and it always makes me think that tabbers doesn't know prauf is dead
16 notes · View notes
ornithorynquerouge · 7 days
Text
Tumblr media
Hana Jirickova with Dioni Tabbers in Common Sense by Ellen Von Unwerth. 2011 - ornithorynquerouge archive
355 notes · View notes
worldofbeauties · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Dioni Tabbers
308 notes · View notes
byunbaekhyunie · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
TABBER — CHI-KA (feat. DEAN)
175 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
116 notes · View notes
xstrikeapose · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
DIONI TABBERS ph. Rogie Alexander.
114 notes · View notes
greencore · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Time is running and hunting us down But, we gotta move on
150 notes · View notes
colde-grr · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(゜o゜; 💥 🎮 <33 ˚ . 🗯️ tabber layouts !!
259 notes · View notes
breakfastteatime · 1 year
Text
Prauf learns the hard way that Cal has never had caf in his life. Not until today. Tea, yes. Caf, definitely not. Prauf only wanted to help him feel less sleepy on an early shift. Now, the kid is vibrating, bouncing on his toes with an eagerness for work that is downright unnatural.
"I'm gonna climb the hull," Cal announces as they reach their worksite, a huge Dreadnought that can only be a year old. "I am gonna climb all the way to the bridge."
Prauf sighs. "No, you're not." They've been assigned to the starboard wing to guide in the ship cutter.
"Watch me."
Cal tries to run for it. Prauf grabs him by the poncho hood to keep him from racing off, little legs kicking in the air. He catches Cal's arm when he tries wiggling his way out of the poncho in a bid for freedom. He doesn't risk putting him down until they're on site.
Suitably occupied, Cal spends the entire shift racing back and forth across the wing, scanning, charting, scrapping and plotting until the cutter crew had everything they need.
"That's two days of work Cal's saved us from," Tabbers observes. "What the hell got into him?"
"Caf," Prauf says.
"Caf or, er, 'caf'?" Tabbers asks, nudging Prauf.
"Caf!" Prauf protests.
"Give him more," Tabbers advises.
158 notes · View notes
roofus7044 · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
91 notes · View notes
moxiepoints · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tabber - Dingo Freestyle feat. Dean
50 notes · View notes
ornithorynquerouge · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Dioni Tabbers by Ellen von Unwerth for Vogue Italia. 2010
320 notes · View notes
realismovisceral · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dioni Tabbers “Summer Gold” by Antoine Verglas
78 notes · View notes
skulsakz · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
dioni tabbers and hana jirickova photographed by ellen von unwerth for common & sense, spring 2011
261 notes · View notes
deantheofficial · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
240323 / you.will.knovv
35 notes · View notes