Courtship in Vos involves a lot of push-pull: acid remarks, pretended disinterest, and teasing that borders on cruel. From the outside, it looks downright mean, but seekers can communicate volumes with the movement and position of their wings, and can pretty easily distinguish someone signalling “go away” from someone signalling “come chase me”. Still, Vosian romance is not for the faint of spark.
Praxian courtship, by contrast, is very slow-moving, intellectual, and formal, befitting a city renowned as a (rather old-fashioned) centre of learning and culture. Physical intimacy doesn’t usually enter the picture until the relationship is already fairly serious. Expect to be taken to museums a lot.
The courtship of the Towers nobility in Iacon is basically a more languid version of Vosian romance. It’s like a competition to see which half of a courting couple can act more indifferent to the other (while also sneaking in steamy glances and teasing one-liners so the object of their affection realises they actually are interested. Just, y’know, in a deniable way).
Polyhexians have a reputation for being hot-blooded and wildly flirtatious. In Crystal City, they prefer the indirect approach, full of poetry and a lot of long-distance wistful sighing.
The joke about Kaon is that if you actually sit down to drink a cube with someone before fragging them, that’s romance. If you manage to exchange more than ten words while you do so, that’s true love, and if the other mech actually pays for your drink, Pit, that’s practically a sparkbond.
There’s some truth to that, sure: Kaon is full of warbuilds and pitfighters, and warriors don’t tend to beat around the bush when they know, far more vividly than any Towers aristocrat, that any given night might be their last. But warriors can be a sentimental bunch, too, and there are traditionally Kaonite romantic gestures that would put all the sonnets in Crystal City to shame. This is where you’re most likely to see lovers pledging to die fighting side by side, or one wearing the other’s token into battle. And when a Kaonite loses their beloved, there’s no quiet, dignified grief. They’ll scar their face, smear the vial of their dead lover’s innermost energon over their plating like war paint, and head out for revenge.
Now that’s romance.
your headcannons give me life o_o
Thank you!
This makes me have ridiculous headcannons about Megatron in his Origins four-parter, with his face-paint and proto-Decepticon insignia on a chain.
Oooh! That maybe those were gifts/energon from a former lover?
Seekers have wind tunnels for when they can’t fly. Essentially, they’re just giant fans, but for whatever reason, the artificially made wind is very beneficial health-wise.
Seeker sparklings can go stand and stretch their little wings/winglets in front of them to build up strength when it’s too dangerous for them to fly or if their wings aren’t fully developed.
Grounded seekers can flare their wings out and feel the rush of the wind. It has a calming effect that helps them cope with not being able to fly, and doubles as a physical therapy for injured wings.
Yes, transformers have a subspace, but can they also have smaller secret compartments for snacks? Miniature subspaces they can hoard rations away in for long missions, some complete with some sort of refrigeration unit so that their energon stays chilled?
In G1 – both comic and cartoon – you could restore a Transformer to life just by rebuilding their damaged body, even after the introduction of the Matrix. Check out one of the very earliest examples of Transformer death and resurrection, from issue #3 of the Marvel comic:
Not that it was always this easy, of course; only the advanced skills of a Quintesson could bring Optimus Prime back to life in the cartoon, while in the comic, Ratchet had a real tough time of it repairing the many Autobots who were offlined by the cosmically-empowered Starscream:
It ultimately took the use of highly-advanced Pretender technology to repair a few of them, and infusions of the rare and powerful Nucleon to restore the rest.
It was with the introduction of sparks in Beast Wars, and their continued use in media after that, that resurrecting a Transformer has usually come to require some “mystical” intervention, to one extent or another. This generally makes it a bit tougher to resurrect someone, as it usually requires that a ‘bot actually voyage into the afterlife and essentially “guide” the spark of the deceased back to the material world – as Rhinox did for Optimus Primal in Beast Wars, the Mini-Cons did for Optimus Prime in Armada, Sam Witwicky did for Optimus Prime in Revenge of the Fallen, Alpha Trion did for Ultra Magnus in the Transformers Legends manga, or Scarlett did for Optimus Prime in G.I. Joe vs Transformers:
That usually – but not always – requires access to some kind of sacred implement like the Matrix or Vector Sigma, which can’t be used by just anybody; and in the cases where these items don’t come into play, it’s usually some even more complicated and arcane way of doing things (like Rhinox’s use of a fortuitous transwarp explosion, or Scarlett using the brainwave scanner to induce transcendental mania.) The resurrections you mention in “Heart of Darkness” were done through the power of the titular object, so they were really “undead” rather than alive again. It was only thanks to an energy surge from Vector Sigma/the Matrix that Cyclonus was fully restored to life.
Flying upside down will fry your neural circuits. Don’t walk backwards when both moons are visible. Don’t think about touching your spark while travelling through a tunnel, and if you have to fly over a body of water during the dry season, by all means don’t hum to yourself. Eat silver dishes around the middle of the year if you want credits to come your way; gold for good health; quartz if you want to reunite with old friends. An itch in a seam you can’t reach means someone is talking about you.
Spit on your tires for good luck. If you’re in Tesarus, spit on a friend’s tires.
Cybertronian Database 