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Who: Teen!Rawne and OTA
When: During the Retrospect flood
Where: All over the ship
What: Young Rawne is here!

There's a 19-year-old with Rawne's tattoos swaggering around the Barge like he owns the place. He'll look into everywhere he can, which is most places since he's got a warden's item. He'll try cabins, too, looking inside if the door's open. Any shock or surprise at this will be met with hostility.

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Norton had long ago arranged it so Rawne could get into his cabin. If he texted late at night for company, he'd wanted to be able to be lounging invitingly on the bed, not always getting up and opening the door.

Young Norton, twenty years old and still discovering this might be his room, based on the bits and bobs he's found in his snooping, has no idea other people might walk in. And so when he hears the door open, he quickly slams the chest at the foot of the bed closed as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't, and pivots with his eyes wide in alarm to see who just entered.

The noises startles Rawne, but he brazens it out and glowers at Norton. "Who are you?"

Like he's the one who's been walked in on.

Now Norton wonders if this is actually this man's room that he's been caught snooping in. And more. He flicks a guilty glance at the very unmade bed, not nearly as adept at hiding his thoughts as older Norton. He's already comfortable lying, though.

"My name's Folgate. Sorry, I must have got wrong directions. I thought this was someone else's house."

"Feth kind of name is Flogate?" Rawne asks, "and why are you skulking around?"

Like he isn't doing the same thing.

"Folgate. It's my surname. And I'm not skulking, I just got lost." And decided to start opening up boxes and drawers because the temptation to be nosy was irresistible.

"If you want me to leave your room, just say the word and I'll be off." He'd rather the other man not get the authorities involved.

"I..." His first instinct is to tell him to leave, but there's something about Folgate that makes him not want to. "No. You don't have to. What did you find?"

"Well, I, uh...." A blush rises on his cheeks. There were some ordinary things in the chest, like books, and some odd things like an unusually large number of knives, and some things that were downright titillating, dildos and anal plugs and clamps.

"...do you really want me to list off some of the things in your room?" He adds a slight flutter of eyelashes to the end of the question.

"Uh." He feels like he's starting to lose control over the situation. But what's the harm in going with it. "Yes."

It occurs to him that considering the thing he found in the chest at the foot of the enormous bed with lots of pillows, perhaps there's another way he can make sure the room's owner isn't inclined to call the authorities. A sly, flirtatious smile spreads across his face.

"Maybe I should show you instead. Showing is better than telling, isn't it?"

"...All right." He's not sure what this'll lead to, but why not?

"Come closer then. You won't see as well from all the way over there by the door."

"All right," he says, again, and walks over to Folgate.

When he tries this particular cabin door, it doesn't open. But from inside, he'll hear a young girl's voice, even-toned and very much not shocked:

"Hello?"

"Hello?" he says, trying the door again. "Who's in there?"

"Sameen," she says, still through the closed door. "Why do you want to come into my room?"

"Uh." He thinks, wildly. "I... have something. For you."

He does have a muffin. He was intending to eat it, but if it gets him inside a locked door, it's worth it.

Hmmmm. She hovers by the door, considering this answer. On the one hand, she's curious; on the other, this sounds like a stranger-danger trap if she ever heard one.

"What is it?"

"A muffin. With chocolate chips." He's not planning anything bad. He's just curious.

Oh, well, that actually sounds really good, but there's an easy answer here.

"I'm not supposed to take sweets from strangers."

"Uh." That is a good answer. "I'm Elim. I'm in the local militia. I'm not sure how I got here."

Is that enough?

The door cracks slightly, enough for a tiny girl to peer through at him.

"You're a soldier?"

Her dad was a soldier, and she's spent her life living on military bases; soldiers are Good People. They can be trusted.

"Yes." He looks like one, if a young one. He's wearing something like fatigues, in black. He holds out the muffin to her.

Huh, would you look at that; he does have a muffin for her. She pulls the door open wider - enough to get her arm and shoulders through - and reaches out to take it.

"Thank you. Are you running a bake sale to raise money?"

"Uh." He's not sure quite what to do now. "No. Just... handing out muffins."

"Why?"

There has to be a reason, Mr. Soldier!

He's definitely not telling her he wants access to rooms. "I saw there were some left over from breakfast. No point in them going to waste."

Luckily for Rawne, he's saved from being grilled on the matter further, because that makes perfect sense. She takes a big bite of the muffin, and around the mouthful, she asks, "What's your name?"

"Elim." That's an easy one to answer, anyway. "You're Sameen, right?"

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