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‘Mophead’ sat on the stiff mattress of their bunk, brows furrowed in pensive thought. One hand clasp over their knee, the other held a sheet of paper however.
Following a less than helpful encounter with the man known as Munroe surrounding the matter, they – for once – found themself alone in their shared quarters. Carrie and Warwick attending to their respective duties elsewhere, and ‘Mophead’ was under the impression that succeeding their conversation and the other man’s strange, nervous conduct in the mess-hall, that Munroe had been avoiding them.
The paper between their pointer and thumb contained a geometric graph enumerating the names of recently incoming and outgoing Crown soldiers to and from the Southern-front. Several names were listed, two were outgoing soldiers being transferred elsewhere, while the other was the man Munroe, leaving only four possible names for themself.
They quietly mulled over the names, considering how they weighed on their tongue, if any feelings arose or were evoked in their uttering. ‘Er-win.. Lewis’ ‘Doyle.. Clar-ence..’ ‘Er-iche.. J Wolff..’ ‘Mi-cheal.. Yang’ They muttered slowly and quietly, like it would jog their memory, though it’s ultimately fruitless. Erwin, Micheal, Eriche – all seemed reasonably within the world of possibility, Doyle hadn’t felt quite the right fit however.
‘Have you heard about the new transfer, Erwin? The one with the hair, that one.” “Have you seen Micheal? We’re out in five.” “No, I haven’t seen Eriche lately, have you?” They try, rapid-fire testing how these names felt said aloud, how they fit on them, how it would feel to be called by them, to be socialized in such a matter.
Being in this frazzled state they weren’t sure how to carry themself, maybe a name could at least help solidify some semblance of a self. They wonder if a name could make something about themself known, or carry some connotation or expected demeanor to it they'd like.
They had also tried a few others, – “Yeah, Micheal, he’s the new-recruit.” “Someone get Erwin a hairnet, he’ll be needing it.” – and whatever else. Those didn’t feel quite right either, unsure why, they brush it off. They aren’t sure why they’re so fixated on this still, but they figure everyone had this sort of drive, to know who they were. Though, that was usually figuratively rather than literally.