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wyntir_knight) wrote2020-03-06 01:43 pm
wyntir_knight) wrote2020-03-06 01:43 pm
Smokescreen story
I'm trying to get into the habit of writing more - just getting all my thoughts and bunnies down on 'paper' before I can talk myself out of it. Today I was hit with a sort of Smokescreen origin story. I've had various mentions in Medical Psychology that Smokey left Praxus under less than ideal circumstances thanks to the Praxian Council's dedication to Functionism. Today I was hit with an idea of what that departure would have been like. This may expand into a larger story -- possibly something for CampNaNo this April. I'm not sure. And to ensure that this doesn't get lost in my Google Docs never to be seen again, I'm posting it here for safekeeping and any comments that people may wish to make.
Title: Untitled snippet
Fandom: Transformers: G1 (AU)
Characters: Smokescreen, Prowl
Wordcount: 1063
Summary: Smokescreen never quite fit in with Praxian society. He asked too many questions, argued with too many of the traditions, wanted to practice non-approved disciplines. Finally he had enough and it was time to leave. Too bad Prowl got word of his attempt to flee.
---
Smokescreen had only just enough warning to hide the packing cube before his door opened.
"Have you lost all of your faculties?" Prowl demanded before the door slid shut behind him.
"And have you forgotten basic courtesy?" Smokescreen replied, pulling the cubes back out from under his berth. "I thought you were Windbolt the way you were stomping down the hall."
"I do not stomp. And you are not answering my question."
"What question?" Smokescreen asked as he continued to pack up his belongings. He knew exactly what his cousin wanted to know, but a part of him hoped that if he played dumb Prowl would become exasperated and leave.
Prowl's doors arched up away from his back and his armour flared momentarily until he regained control of his emotions.
"You know full well what question, Smokescreen," he said. From anyone else it would have been a snapped out reply, but Prowl somehow managed to make the demand come out as a rational argument. "What precisely are you hoping to accomplish? Cybertron has nothing to offer any of us and you have no saleable skills."
Smokescreen grabbed a stack of data pads and put them into the cube. Yes, they technically belonged to the House library, but he was still a member of the Imperium House. And they were all copies that no one would miss; it wasn't like any of Praxus had use for the soft sciences.
"I'm going to the Academy.”
“And how will you afford that?” Prowl asked. “The Academy does not offer education for free. And what precisely are you planning on learning there that you cannot learn here?”
“I’ll figure out payment later. And I’ll be able to learn some actual skills, be able to do something I actually want to do instead of being stuck with theoretical tactics that I'm never going to put to use," Smokescreen replied, never looking at his cousin.
"We put our tactics to use," Prowl said, and there was a hint of petulance under the cold and dismissive tone. "And just because our House does tactics does not mean that you need be limited to that. You could request a fostering in one of the other Houses. Augment House produces logicians, Axiom House produces topologists, You could study probability at Lemmas or cryptography at Dynamic."
"Yeah, that's a great idea, save for the fact that the only House I'm interested in no longer exists," Smokescreen snapped.
"Game theory is hardly an appropriate use of Praxian resources," Prowl sniffed. He flicked his doors up and out in irritation before sitting down on the edge of a chair. "It only made sense for us to absorb Zeta House."
"And drop all game theory even though it's more than applicable to military strategy?" Smokescreen asked. "And we didn't absorb them, we covered the fact that the Council reclaimed every member."
"That is not true," Prowl grit out. "I had a meeting with Phasewatch two orn ago. His mentees are all well as are his three mates."
Smokescreen threw his wax kit into the box violently.
"That was not Phasewatch! Oh, it was Phasewatch's frame all right, but he wasn't in it any more. I don't know who that was, but it wasn't Phasewatch! Or Trident or Doubledash or Pursuit! And how many members of the house are unaccounted for? If we absorbed them, then we should have gotten all of them but twenty seven are nowhere to be found!"
Prowl rolled his optics. "Not this again. You are repeating a conspiracy theory that falls apart the moment it is put under any kind of scrutiny. Those twenty seven were fostered with other Houses that better suited their skills and temperaments."
"You willing to bet on that?" Smokescreen asked. "Are you willing to chance my life on that theory that it's all just a baseless conspiracy? I'm certainly not. I'm not planning on hanging around here and waiting for them to spirit me away in my recharge cycle so they can reprogram me!"
Prowl shot out of the chair, sending it tumbling away behind him. "You will not be reprogrammed! No one is being reprogrammed! The worst that will happen is a circuit in the education centre. Just a quick reminder of Praxian policies and ideals." He crossed his arms under his bumper and turned away. "I am beginning to suspect that you could do with some reminding. Ever since you came into your final upgrades you have been acting irrationally."
"Gee I wonder why that is," Smokescreen muttered.
"You are not an outlier!" Prowl yelled, his armour flaring and his doors rising up aggressively.
"You keep telling yourself that, Prowl," Smokescreen said, refusing to rise to his cousin's anger.
He put the last of his possessions into the box, sealed it and slipped it into his subspace.
"Now I am leaving," he continued. "I can't stay here and stay me. Regardless of how much you try and delude yourself you know that it's true."
Prowl moved to place himself between Smokescreen and the door.
"You cannot leave," he said simply. "You cannot leave this House and you cannot leave Praxus."
"Unless you're planning on stopping me, Prowl, I most certainly can," Smokescreen replied, preparing to lob a volley of blinding smoke at his cousin even though it would alert the facility security that an outlier had activated on premises.
For a tense moment Prowl kept up the stand off before finally backing down and stepping out of the way.
"Fine," he said, his voice cold and emotionless. "You have made your decision and there is nothing I can do to convince you to change it. It will take me approximately two joor to obtain a meeting with someone in Security to inform them of your betrayal."
It was as close as Smokescreen would get to acceptance from Prowl. His cousin was giving him just enough time to get out of Praxus and beyond the influence of the security forces if he left immediately.
"Thank you," Smokescreen whispered. He allowed his door to brush Prowl's as he left the room. It was a wordless goodbye that was full of sorrow and apologies and a small amount of grudging understanding.
The moment was over as soon as it happened and the two Praxians were striding off in opposite directions.
Title: Untitled snippet
Fandom: Transformers: G1 (AU)
Characters: Smokescreen, Prowl
Wordcount: 1063
Summary: Smokescreen never quite fit in with Praxian society. He asked too many questions, argued with too many of the traditions, wanted to practice non-approved disciplines. Finally he had enough and it was time to leave. Too bad Prowl got word of his attempt to flee.
---
Smokescreen had only just enough warning to hide the packing cube before his door opened.
"Have you lost all of your faculties?" Prowl demanded before the door slid shut behind him.
"And have you forgotten basic courtesy?" Smokescreen replied, pulling the cubes back out from under his berth. "I thought you were Windbolt the way you were stomping down the hall."
"I do not stomp. And you are not answering my question."
"What question?" Smokescreen asked as he continued to pack up his belongings. He knew exactly what his cousin wanted to know, but a part of him hoped that if he played dumb Prowl would become exasperated and leave.
Prowl's doors arched up away from his back and his armour flared momentarily until he regained control of his emotions.
"You know full well what question, Smokescreen," he said. From anyone else it would have been a snapped out reply, but Prowl somehow managed to make the demand come out as a rational argument. "What precisely are you hoping to accomplish? Cybertron has nothing to offer any of us and you have no saleable skills."
Smokescreen grabbed a stack of data pads and put them into the cube. Yes, they technically belonged to the House library, but he was still a member of the Imperium House. And they were all copies that no one would miss; it wasn't like any of Praxus had use for the soft sciences.
"I'm going to the Academy.”
“And how will you afford that?” Prowl asked. “The Academy does not offer education for free. And what precisely are you planning on learning there that you cannot learn here?”
“I’ll figure out payment later. And I’ll be able to learn some actual skills, be able to do something I actually want to do instead of being stuck with theoretical tactics that I'm never going to put to use," Smokescreen replied, never looking at his cousin.
"We put our tactics to use," Prowl said, and there was a hint of petulance under the cold and dismissive tone. "And just because our House does tactics does not mean that you need be limited to that. You could request a fostering in one of the other Houses. Augment House produces logicians, Axiom House produces topologists, You could study probability at Lemmas or cryptography at Dynamic."
"Yeah, that's a great idea, save for the fact that the only House I'm interested in no longer exists," Smokescreen snapped.
"Game theory is hardly an appropriate use of Praxian resources," Prowl sniffed. He flicked his doors up and out in irritation before sitting down on the edge of a chair. "It only made sense for us to absorb Zeta House."
"And drop all game theory even though it's more than applicable to military strategy?" Smokescreen asked. "And we didn't absorb them, we covered the fact that the Council reclaimed every member."
"That is not true," Prowl grit out. "I had a meeting with Phasewatch two orn ago. His mentees are all well as are his three mates."
Smokescreen threw his wax kit into the box violently.
"That was not Phasewatch! Oh, it was Phasewatch's frame all right, but he wasn't in it any more. I don't know who that was, but it wasn't Phasewatch! Or Trident or Doubledash or Pursuit! And how many members of the house are unaccounted for? If we absorbed them, then we should have gotten all of them but twenty seven are nowhere to be found!"
Prowl rolled his optics. "Not this again. You are repeating a conspiracy theory that falls apart the moment it is put under any kind of scrutiny. Those twenty seven were fostered with other Houses that better suited their skills and temperaments."
"You willing to bet on that?" Smokescreen asked. "Are you willing to chance my life on that theory that it's all just a baseless conspiracy? I'm certainly not. I'm not planning on hanging around here and waiting for them to spirit me away in my recharge cycle so they can reprogram me!"
Prowl shot out of the chair, sending it tumbling away behind him. "You will not be reprogrammed! No one is being reprogrammed! The worst that will happen is a circuit in the education centre. Just a quick reminder of Praxian policies and ideals." He crossed his arms under his bumper and turned away. "I am beginning to suspect that you could do with some reminding. Ever since you came into your final upgrades you have been acting irrationally."
"Gee I wonder why that is," Smokescreen muttered.
"You are not an outlier!" Prowl yelled, his armour flaring and his doors rising up aggressively.
"You keep telling yourself that, Prowl," Smokescreen said, refusing to rise to his cousin's anger.
He put the last of his possessions into the box, sealed it and slipped it into his subspace.
"Now I am leaving," he continued. "I can't stay here and stay me. Regardless of how much you try and delude yourself you know that it's true."
Prowl moved to place himself between Smokescreen and the door.
"You cannot leave," he said simply. "You cannot leave this House and you cannot leave Praxus."
"Unless you're planning on stopping me, Prowl, I most certainly can," Smokescreen replied, preparing to lob a volley of blinding smoke at his cousin even though it would alert the facility security that an outlier had activated on premises.
For a tense moment Prowl kept up the stand off before finally backing down and stepping out of the way.
"Fine," he said, his voice cold and emotionless. "You have made your decision and there is nothing I can do to convince you to change it. It will take me approximately two joor to obtain a meeting with someone in Security to inform them of your betrayal."
It was as close as Smokescreen would get to acceptance from Prowl. His cousin was giving him just enough time to get out of Praxus and beyond the influence of the security forces if he left immediately.
"Thank you," Smokescreen whispered. He allowed his door to brush Prowl's as he left the room. It was a wordless goodbye that was full of sorrow and apologies and a small amount of grudging understanding.
The moment was over as soon as it happened and the two Praxians were striding off in opposite directions.