#chabbit

[thylacines-toybox]

A small chabbit (GMO critters from Runaway to the Stars by @jayrockin ) modified/made by me in May 2024. The base rabbit plushie was a charity shop find, while the chicken parts were made from scratch, attempting to match the rabbit.

[adobedragon]

Thirty minutes into the flight from Onlar to the nearest teleduv, the smell of feces grew too overpowering to ignore. Lance had been ignoring the faint whiffs of shit because he suspected the cause was somewhere in the cockpit and something he should deal with immediately. Not just immediately, but lethally.

But Lance was in a great mood. In just a few hours, after a week away from home, he’d be back on Mars, back in the little apartment he shared with Pidge and Keith, getting some much-needed cuddles with his favorite people in the universe. He didn’t want blood on his hands, even if said blood was purple and belonged to a glorified space rat. Or several of them. Holy shit, what if there's more than one?

He slumped forward in the pilot’s seat, elbows on the control panel, and rested his forehead on the palms of his hand. Maybe he could just keep ignoring the stench. Maybe all he needed was a snack. Sitting up, he reached for the gear box, which, in addition to containing the usual tools for emergency repairs, contained his stash of garlic knots. Made by his mom and shipped to Mars, they were now a little on the hard-tack side of stale, but comfort food was comfort food, even if it took a jaw-breaking amount of chewing.

With a tap to the glowing purple lock switch—like everything on the Blade of Marmora ship, the cockpit was a dreary shade of gray with bright motes of purple lighting—and the box’s main drawer slid open.

“Holy crow!” His hand, already reaching into the box, jerked back in surprise. A small pair of yellow eyes stared back at him. “Shit!” Lance stared at the chabbit, the source of the reek. “Shit, shit, shit.”

This one was tiny and fortunately alone. A baby.

“Shit.” The expletive was also a descriptor as the infant varmint had done just that; shit prolifically in the box, with the added insult of piss. It had also devoured the garlic knots.

Blade of Marmora policy was clear: “Any chabbit found on board a Blade vessel shall be eliminated by any means necessary.” Chabbits, native to the Galra homeworld of Daibazaal, were warm-blood reptilian rodents. Fully grown, they were the size of a very small cat, had two short tusks that delivered a mildly venomous bits, ate absolutely anything and had opposable thumbs. In just a few short years since the restoration of the Galra homeland, they had managed to spread throughout the universe and were a reviled pest species.

The Blade of Marmora flight manual also included instructions for the most efficient and safe ways to dispatch of the creatures. Lance, however, had always made himself scarce when his parents slaughtered a chicken or some other livestock on the farm. Though he’d done more than his share of killing as a Paladin of Voltron, chucking a helpless living thing out of an airlock (Option A) or snapping its neck (Option B) was more than he could bear.

Lance stared at the little animal. It stared back.

He shut the drawer.

Long minutes passed. Through the cockpit window, the faint cyan glow of the approaching teleduv facility grew larger, a spot of color in the otherwise black with a net of stars, chiaroscuro expanse of space.

Lance’s stomach rumbled.

He stabbed angrily at the purple door latch and as the drawer opened, snarled, “Why’d you have to eat my garlic knots? Why?”

The chabbit cocked its tiny rectangular head and chirped.

“Yeah, well, I’m hungry too. And I’m the one flying this boat. If the captain ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” He glared at the creature. “I have to kill you. It’s nothing personal. Well, yes, it is. You ate my garlic knots.”

The chabbit, who’d been huddled against the back of the drawer, chirped again and hopped toward the front of the rectangular space. With another hopeful chirp, it rose, wobbly on rabbit-like haunches, and grasped the edge of the drawer with its four fingered hands.

Lance leaned back, eyed the creature for a second and then closed his eyes. “You’ve got two seconds to escape. I didn’t see you. Shoo.”

The sound of claws scrabbling on metal and bits and bobs of tools followed, then silence. Lance opened his eyes expecting to find the varmint gone. Instead, it was cleaning itself, purple tongue lapping at a foreleg. And it was still in the drawer.

Steeling himself, he reached out his (fortunately gloved) hand and grabbed it firmly behind the neck and yanked it from the box. This was supposed to be the safe way to catch a chabbit as it prevented the animal from biting. It didn’t stop it from frantically clawing at his hand and arm with sharp little claws. His armor protected him from that, but it did nothing to shut out the piteous noise coming from the baby. Although this chabbit was no bigger than his hand, its wails were filling the cockpit.

Desperate to end the heartrending racket, he dropped the thing. It fell in his lap, and Lance made no move to catch it, hoping it would flee.

Falling onto its side, it slid between his thighs, wiggled about and righted itself. With an indignant chirp, the tiny chabbit turned a baleful eye on him.

“Do you have a death-wish? Go!” He waved at it. “Otherwise, it’s lights out.” He drew a finger across his throat for emphasis.

The chirp turned sad, and yellow eyes filled with reproach.

Lance lifted his gaze at the teleduv. According to the instrument panel, they would reach it in thirty doboshes, a little over thirty minutes, Earth time.

At the next chabbity chirp, Lance scooped the beastie off his lap, this time gently. The chabbit didn’t resist and nestled happily in the palm of his hand.

Lance’s heart melted. Not the most unlikely event as his heart was probably composed of something like wax and he was a notorious softy. But this was a chabbit, an illegal alien species on Mars and elsewhere. Not the mention, he was breaking Blade of Marmora regs by not killing it. (Though on that count, he had an out as he was extra cozy with one of the Blade’s head honchos.) He grimaced. “Keith’s not gonna like this.” Pidge probably wouldn’t be amused either. Their other roomie, Kosmo, Keith’s cosmic wolf would probably eat this little critter.

As though sensing his indecision, the chabbit chirped. Lance grasped it carefully, flipping it over to study its underbelly. It was hard to tell, but it seemed to be male. “You look like a Rogelio.”

Upright and back on Lance’s palm, Rogelio eyed Lance worriedly.

“Shit,” said Lance as he stroked a finger over Rogelio’s bony eyes ridges.

Rogelio purred and rubbed his snout on Lance’s finger.

“It’s okay, buddy. We’ll work this out.” Just the act of petting the little chabbit made him feel calm inside. “It’s okay. You’re with me now. Safe and sound.”

(Backstory for Three Paladins, a Wolf and a Chabbit)

[kingtylerproductions]

Cringetober Day 12: Niche Interest

Punkalopi (and Chabbit)

Sorry went way to hard on this and had to finish really late. You can really tell which one I tried on.

[jayrockin]

while Chabbits wings are unsuitable for Flight, are they usable for gliding or slowing their falls?

Not really. They have dense bones, small short wings, and none of the cardiorespiratory adaptions of a bird. Their wing position can vary based on breed so they're not always well centered on the body. Like the wings of a lot of other GMO pets that have them as an extra pair of limbs slapped on a tetrapod body frame, they're pretty and useless. If you want a chimera GMO to fly or even glide well, you have to make drastic changes to the shape of the body, which usually results in something much less aesthetically appealing to humans. Commercial chabbits at least have a bit of a keelbone and enlarged pectorals, but that's because people like to eat that part.

[argonphoenix]

rtts headcanon: one of the foodstuffs avian food printers produce is a log of vaguely plantworm-flavored meat; somewhat akin to “krab” here in humanworld

[chabbit]

My local Chinese food place has started using these little branded plastic containers for their rice (why???) and it comes out to a really stingy amount of rice. Like guys... come on... I'm trying to eat out of this order for the rest of the week by bulking up on rice... work with me here...

[dimetrodone]

Chickenhare?

Didnt know @jayrockin made a movie starring a chabbit

[paradox-crows]

Chabbit

@bnuuwitch

[oru-tree]

*pointing*

Chabbit

[commodore-jeep-eep-blog]

You can't fool me, that's an image of someone's escaped pet chabbit from the future @jayrockin's Runaway To The Stars is set in.

there aren’t enough posts going around about the swedish cryptid known as the skvader which is a rabbit with pheasant wings and also a very good boy.

[jayrockin]

would vestigial be the best way to describe a chabbit’s wings? Seeing as they were never flight capable to begin with.

That's a great question, because afaik "vestigial" describes an ancestral trait that through evolution, has lost its functionality in a given organism. Chabbits... uh... were not selected for by the usual evolutionary processes, and have polyphyletic ancestors. Describing GMOs with evolutionary terms gets weird fast

[blackkatmagic]

I just saw your headcanons for Mito, and first, I agree 100%. Second, however, is that fact that it took me a good twenty seconds to put on my Naruto hat and realize that "seals" didn't refer to the animal. Which has me thinking, since Uzushio was by the water, she absolutely could ALSO have been obsessed with a friends with a bunch of the animal. Possibly a summoning contract. Which would make those fights with Madara 500x funnier. Just a big pile of hair buried under 300+ pounds of seal.

asdfghjkl oh my god that’s an amazing image. 

[chabbit]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Final Fantasy XVI Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Clive Rosfield & Cidolfus Telamon, Benedikta Harman & Clive Rosfield Characters: Clive Rosfield, Cidolfus Telamon, Barnabas Tharmr, Sleipnir Harbard, Benedikta Harman Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Emotional Manipulation, Unreliable Narrator Summary:

During the Battle of Belenus Tor in 860, Ramuh strikes down the Demon of Sanbreque and seizes victory for Waloed. Some time later, Ifrit awakens in the hold of a ship on its way to Stonhyrr.

===

Hello friends, family, and comrades! I have decided to get over my perfectionism and start posting fic again instead of letting it rot on my hard drive. I’m linking it here on the off chance anyone who follows me has both played FF16 and is interested in reading fic about it. (I assume the tumblr tag function is as broken as ever when links are involved?) I’ve been having a blast with it, so I hope other people do too!

[bedlamsbard]

Hey, I just wanted to say thank you for writing and linking that post on applying to graduate schools! I am in the process of doing so for the first time, and even though there's only one school with the program I want taking apps right now I have been kind of going in circles about the whole process in my brain. Seeing how you laid it all out was very helpful. Thank you!!

I’m glad to hear it!  Good luck with your application -- it really can be done in tiny baby steps if you give yourself enough lead time!

[tsaomengde]

@chabbit my wife went to the Hershey zoo today

[tsaomengde]

@chabbit

Congrats to Grazer, Fat Bear Week champion of 2023. May her rule for the coming year be benevolent and just.