Prowl, sweetspark, my longtime colleague and precious friend, where are you? I'd like to speak with you.
:: Whatever you feel the need to discuss with me, I’m certain, does not require for us to meet face to face, Smokescreen.
You are welcomed to speak with me through our communication lines. ::
calculxtederror:
Fingers pausing in their typing at the sound of his door suddenly opening, Prowl’s optics flickered over towards the other mech now standing in his line of vision. His expression remained neutral despite the look directed towards him. Whatever had the gambler in a negative mood, whether he was somehow the cause of it or not, Prowl was sure he’d be receiving an audio full.
This interaction with Smokescreen would set him back some on the progress he had been making. That thought alone had the enforcer’s lips turning down into a frown. The psychologist would have to save the games for another time.
“You sought me out, Smokescreen. Make it quick.”
Prowl’s command was met with an easygoing smirk from the psy-ops mech. Despite the fact that his fellow tactician’s tone of voice had Smokescreen biting back a snappy comment of his own, the gambler remained the image of cool and collected. Besides, as far as he was concerned, Prowl had already gotten enough of a reaction out of him already.
Smokey choosing to come to Prowl’s office was proof of that.
“There you go again rushing.” Grabbing one of the chairs by the younger Praxian’s desk, he decided to make himself comfortable for the time being. Prowl may have not had time to spare but Smokescreen apparently had all the time in the world.
“It’s really not healthy for you, champ.”
