Undorn: The Beginning

Part Five

Bones, Region of Orrosta

Location: Camp Monmouth

Things have been very, very  frustrating for Bones.

Their Enforcer training is over, but the men have been ordered to remain at Camp Monmouth for the time being. They are awaiting their assignments, but are still taking part in the rigorous Enforcer routine. Days are mundane and boring, but ruthlessly tiring. All Bones wants to do lately is collapse on his bed in the fetal position and pray he gets an assignment soon.

To make matters worse, there is some sort of secret plot going on behind his back.

Every time he walks into his sleeping quarters, HIS goddamned sleeping quarters, the three of his roommates are huddled together, their heads practically touching, their voices bouncing around the room in hushed whisper-shouts. And when Bones walks in the room, every time, every single time, the hushed whisper-shouts suddenly stop. The three quickly disperse to their beds without even acknowledging the man who had just walked into the room. They don't even give him a second look. It's god damn irritating. Like they think Bones is some snitch or rat whose going to report them for fuckin' whispering.

It wasn't just here, in the sleeping quarters. It was whenever Bones approached them. It was in the cafeteria. In the yard during free hour. Even in the mother fucking showers! It was absolutely infuriating.

On this particular day, Bones was exhausted. His hand-to-hand combat professor especially liked to pick on him, and sparring with him today had been an absurd mess. Bones had two black eyes. Maybe even a broken nose. He was drenched in sweat and dried blood and desperately wanted a cold shower. He wanted something to ease the ache in his muscles, the knots in his spine. He pushed the door to his quarters open hoping--praying--it would be empty.

It was, in fact, not empty.
It was, in fact, full of his three roommates, huddled together like usual.
But this time, this time was slightly different.

There were maps. Maybe four or five of them spread out along the floor, all three of the boys focusing intently on their content. None of them had heard Bones enter.

Beo's head shot up first. It was like the kid had a freakin' sixth sense for Bones. Bones would have smiled at the thought, but he was trying to get a good read on what the maps actually depicted. He couldn't make out anything substantial besides the lines for a few rivers before Beo jumped up to block any sort of view Bones had. Worry etched itself onto Beo's face. He probably thought Bones would rat on him. Personal items--including random ass maps--were not allowed in the sleeping quarters.

Bones rolled his eyes. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Beo. I won't say a thing," Bones began kicking off his boots. As an afterthought, he added, "Too fuckin tired to do much of anything."

While Taide and Orwell scrambled to pick up the evidence, Beo took a step towards his bunkmate. "What happened to you?"

Bones snorted at the concern in Beo's voice. Kicking off his other boot, Bones retorted, "So he does speak." Beo had been far too busy with his stupid plans to even look at Bones this week, let alone spare him the occasional hello. His bunk mate's silence infuriated Bones more than this stupid plot.

"What happened to you?" Beo repeated, louder this time.

Bones looked up him. At his stupid golden hair and his stupid nose still scrunched in worry.  He paused, contemplating all the things he could say to Beo.
You haven't given me more than a hello this week and now you're concerned?

I miss hearing your voice?

"What are you three planing without me?" Is what Bones decided was appropriate for the audience.