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Sparkling? Who was this 'Con calling a sparkling? For all of Prism's life, or what she could remember of it, there was war. Yes, there was a time when there weren't two factions fighting against one another, but her memory kept her from knowing if she had been active during those times of peace. How old was the decepticon before her? However old she may have been, it wasn't all too relevant. She was just bothered by the fact that they had just met and she was already looking down at the person who had called her to Iacon in the first place. 

Due to her not being in the security room, Prism was completely unaware of the third cybertronian to make their way to the hangar. She only saw the jet and Dinobot, the former of which seemed not to be one to talk. That was okay. Prism could work with the strong silent type. She felt that the more talkative one was going to be the one she'd have to worry about. 

She had been prepared to say a few choice words for the 'Con, but the arrival of another bot meant that her comeback was going to have to wait. She was sure that the helicopter was going to crash. However, it wasn't the case. He landed on the ground with only a bit of trouble, but managed to get only a few words out before he caught fire.

Out of habit, Prism deployed her EOD mask. The orange crest flew down to cover the center of her face, leaving the two pointed pieces on the each side of her face to remain there. The crest pointed with the orange point of her chin, locking in with a satisfying [i]clink![/i] Between the pointed pieces and the crest formed hard light shields to protect what visible parts of her face were left. 

She sprinted to him to help pat him down. It seemed that she wasn't the only one in a state of disrepair, but she was far better off than he was. The Dinobot tried to help a little as well, but Prism actually helped pat him down of the flames.