Dialogue Prompt #1 ¦¦ 10.12.16
"He couldn't have died at a worse time."
Taptaptap. Tap. Taptap. Taptaptap.
Prowl looked up at the sound. The quiet tink of metal tapping metal was loud in the vacancy of the shuttle.
The Datsun was tapping his digit away at the navigational console in the far left corner of the room. The air in the dimly-lit bridge was stale, and it was irritatingly thick for Prowl’s sensors.
“Smokescreen?” he questioned, rising slightly from his chair.
Said bot didn’t respond at first, his optics studying the edges of the panel his digits were trailing. The interior was the same shade of golden-orange that the Ark was, and it brought back memories neither of them wanted to discuss.
“He needs to figure himself out and get back up here,” came Smokescreen’s muttered reply.
Prowl stared at him blankly, unsure whether to take him seriously. “Smokescreen, I...that’s not...death doesn’t work that way. He’s in the Well, with Primus.”
Smokescreen’s digits curled into a fist and he slammed it onto the console’s screen. The sturdy material vibrated visibly, but didn’t shatter.
“Haven’t you noticed that just isn’t Prime’s style?” the Datsun snapped back.
Prowl raised an optic ridge at him, silently prompting him to continue.
With an air of frustration, Smokescreen continued through gritted denta. “Haven’t you ever noticed that if Prime’s mission isn’t finished, he doesn’t just die? If he thinks there’s more to be done, then he returns to finish the job, slaggit. It’s only a matter of when and how.”
His fist loosened, and a shuddering sigh expelled from his vents.
“He just...he couldn’t have died at a worse time.”