#tinytarnau

LMAO LIKE A FROG

I can see any bot doing this, honestly.

I wonder if they even have anything life fireflies on cybertron or adjacent planets? Bioluminescence is obviously a thing for cybertronians because their eyes already glow, though I don’t know if that could be called true bioluminescence. (I mean, in real life it’s a chemical reaction. In fictional robot world I have no idea.)

But the concept of going to a completely alien planet, being forced to see all of the weird things the planet has, and recognizing a fucked up little creature has the ability to make light has got to be confusing as hell. Like a mini spark just flying around. Only appearing for a second before flickering out again.

Tiny Tarn anon… we meet again lol

Anyway,

tarn end up on earth, laying in snow barely contious not understanding anything. And later learning also organic(still has some cybertronian features and his mask) barely give inches talk. How this happened, no clue! Maybe it's divine punishment(that happened after meg's kills him), maybe it was an artifact, maybe a magic curse. He gets found by a human, who knows what Will happen. Maybe they're a musician, doctor, pred, ... Imagine all the joys tarn will have dealings with an organic body, mental breakdowns(over everything) and an organic/human who je is now powerless against.

Oh my god Tarn having to deal with a human body is so funny to me. Having to eat, breathe, take care of his skin and hair, going to the bathroom, he hated all of it. Why were there so many different options of fuel??? He would be PISSED and especially reluctant to interact with any humans.

Though, the one that helped him out of the snow was unusually kind- a curtesy not many have shown him. They took him in (as unwilling as he was) and showed him how to live in a new body.

At first he was disgusted by nearly everything. The softness of furniture, the texture of food, the squishiness of his own skin. (Seriously, his body was incredibly inefficient). But the one who took him in didn’t scoff at him or disregard his new appearance. They didn’t know what he really was, or what he had done, and yet when he told them they didn’t run. They weren’t scared of him. Everybody was scared of him… except them. Even in this new organic body he could kill them, use any weapon to pierce and tear at their feeble flesh. Even after he threatened them, made attempts at their life, destroyed their things, they still tried to make his life as comfortable as possible.

The rest of the DJD would inevitably find him. And when they did they would turn him back. And then they would lay waste to this miserable planet for what it did to him. That was the plan, anyway. But now he felt his spark- heart melt at the sound of their violin. The complicated rhythmic movements of their fingers on the strings played a melody unlike he’s ever heard. He had no power here. But for the first time… he felt like he didn’t need power. He just wanted to sit and listen, to be what his previous life could never afford him.

Tarn heard the tiny dying primitive organic's chattering but hadent bothered to turn on his translation software before he crushed it in his servo. In retrospect, perhaps that had been a mistake. His world went hazy with agony as he fell backwards through imposible scintillating colors. Only to land in a flash of light, dazed in a darkening cold swirling of wall of white. A blizard? Was he back on Mesatine? It was fragging cold enough. His frame felt so incredably strange burning with cold. Surely it wouldnt hurt to take a moment to get his bearings.

"Get Up!" A voice shouted over the rising howl of the gale. Tarn blinked at the puffy bright colored figure. "Get up damn you, before you freeze to death out here!" In a daze he took the proffered (gloved?) servo and he was more than half draged to his pedes. Tarn stumbled more than half draged, the figure grasping him firmly around his waist and by his arm which had somehow been draped over their shoulders shoulders. His rescuer gave him no choice but to climb the stairs leading up to the porch that sheltered the crude building.

Tarn turned his head at an ungodly roar to see the wall of white bare down upon them just as his rescuer untethered themselves from a safty line and opened the door. A blast of artic wind tossed them bodily in the door along with stinging pelets of snow. It wasn't untill after he and his host body-checked the door shut that he realized just how wrong things had gone. He prepared to transform to sooth his unrest only nothing happened. He looked down to see naked flesh, realized it belonged to him and screamed.

Brb I’m going to think about this for hours now.

I ended up going a little silly with this one lmao

Tarn has been gone an unusually long time. Usually he’s threatening to kill you or whatever, but somehow he made it off the table. You were afraid he’d somehow gotten into the vents or disappeared somewhere else, you didn’t doubt his ability to actually harm you, but the faint sounds of sniffling lead you to a different conclusion.

In human culture, crying is typically seen as weak. While Tarn doesn’t exactly know this, he didn’t want you to see him leaking whatever was coming out of his eyes. His face felt hot and his nose was dripping, absolutely disgusting. He couldn’t control what was going on with his body, not even the noises that he was making.

You found him in a cabinet you’d apparently left slightly ajar. His overall demeanor was still the angry ball of hate it usually was, but now he was more vulnerable than ever. You couldn’t coax him out. He was the one to start up a conversation.

He asked what was happening to him. You told him the truth. “They’re tears”, you said, “humans usually get them when they’re really sad or really happy… and I don’t suppose you’re very happy.”

“This is disgraceful. Disgusting.”

“Yeah, well, it’s natural.”

“Not for me, not for a cybertronian!”

“But you’re not-“

“Shut it, you insolent organic piece of slag!” More tears poured from his face. You got the feeling this level of emotion wasn’t normal for him. “When I get back into my body, I swear to primus I will tear you limb from limb, and I will make it as painful as possible. I won’t stop until this miserable planet is dust.” He looked angry, but only for a second. His words hitched on sobs and cracked in pain. He tried his best to put on an intimidating persona, he did everything he could to scare you off, but he was too small. Too weak. You just stood there staring at him.

If he still had a spark, it would be aching. He felt his world shatter and with it the remainder of his composure. Tarn lost it. He cried. Hard.

This is a very sad pathetic wet cat who thinks he's dying and has limited recall of what happened the previous evening.

Oh buddy, he’s gonna be so confused. Going from “I can’t believe you idiots drink this for fun” to “I can’t believe this body is to weak” to “what do you mean I can’t drink the whole thing why is it even there”.