I, err, ahh... [tag: Overseer]

[Cansi]

Due to his unhealthy appearance, Tekaine had been kept in the detox area a full thirty-six candlemarks, just to be certain that he would not exhibit any of the typical signs of Dust cravings. It was all just delaying the inevitable meeting with the overseer, the current authority figure around here. Normally, after drinking, it only took a good sleep for the young man to feel wholly recovered. He'd never experienced a real hangover in his life. Why, by Faranth, did he have to pick today to have one?

He was escorted, hands bound in front of him, to the Warden's office, that was temporarily being used by M'onk He couldn't tell if it was the same four guards that had prepped him for the holding cell at detox or not, but couldn't dredge up the energy to care. Tekaine's eyes felt made of gritty sand, and the taste in his mouth wasn't much better. A splitting headache throbbed at his temples, only worsening any time he caught a glimpse of the horrible red suit he was wearing. "Wait here," one of the guards instructed firmly, and went to knock rapidly three times on the door.

The other three guards were lined up behind the new inmate, ready at the slightest sign of movement to stop the prisoner from any aggression, though they needn't have been so vigilant. One of them even had a canine- one of the biggest ones Tekaine had ever seen, that just so happened to look a lot like the one that had attacked him when he was little. The nerves from knowing that... that thing was behind him... overshadowed the nervousness concerning the man he was getting ready to meet. He knew what the canine could do to him, from experience. This overseer on the other hand was an unknown quantity. Logically, that should have made the human on the other side of this door more of an object of fear than the furred-and-fanged beast.

Right about now, though, in the middle of the only hangover he'd ever had and without any quality sleep to speak of since his illness had broken three sevendays ago, Tekaine was just a teensy weensy bit short on logic...

[nozomi]

That's right.

The previous Bronzerider in charge of Warden's Weyr insisted on meeting every single prisoner, didn't he. Didn't he. The guards didn't seem to realize that M'onk, old fragile man he was, did not entirely support Wardens previous go at things such as life. Both he and Natai looked up from the desk with that knock, the older man moving to his feet slowly, hand at his cane. The young woman, however, flitted instantly from desk to door, pulling it open to reveal - prisoner.

Short prisoner, huge dog, larger guards. Her wide eyes grew wider, even more then before, and she stepped back away from the door. "Oh. Grandfather? Are we expecting a- a guest?"

"Carryover from V'tya, my dear. Let the man in." M'onk smiled, all teeth and deep wrinkles, his spindly fingers wrapped around his cane for support. Natai nodded again and stood back to let Tekaine in. M'onk waved her away, sending the girl skirting out of the room and to do whatever else she needed to, leaving the prisoner, the Overseer, and the guards standing outside of the room. M'onk's smile did not falter, though his gaze sharpened a bit on the young man.

"Hello. I'm Overseer M'onk. And who might you be, young man?"

[Cansi]

As soon as the door opened, Tekaine subconsciously hunched his shoulders, wishing that he could sink right through the floor. Impossible as it was. The woman that had opened the door seemed surprised for some reason, and as she conferred with the old man behind the desk, Tekaine peeked up through his eyelashes. The aged overseer (now standing there) was definitely not the sort of overseer to instill fear at a glance, but his title was enough to overshadow his appearance and his mild tone. The lady, when dismissed, left without a backward glance- and without anything remaining between the fresh inmate and M'onk himself.

"I, err, ahh..." Tekaine had to chew his tongue a bit and swallow to moisten his mouth, simultaneously shifting his weight a little and subsequently stumbling as a guard unceremoniously ushered him forward. If his hands hadn't been bound he probably would have covered his eyes with a palm from shame. "I'm Tekaine, sir," he faltered. "Journeyman healer and -"

"Thief," the guard finished for him in tones of bored satisfaction. Tekaine lowered his chin again, biting the inside of his cheek. Surely such a grandfatherly old man wouldn't be cruel. But then, everyone at the healer crafthall had said the handsome Russik wasn't attracted to men, either. Looks most definitely did not always indicate true things about people. Behind him, the canine sneezed, and the young man jumped slightly. Then his cheeks slowly tinged pink. What a day...

[nozomi]

"Delightful. Thank you so much for allowing him to speak his piece." M'onk's voice, however cheerful, took on a rather dry tone to it when the guard spoke up and made the prisoner shrink more into himself like that. For a moment, the overseer's eyes narrowed, glinted with something other than merriness. Only a split second, and if Tekaine had the bad luck to not be looking straight at M'onk (and how he wasn't quite-smiling to the guard), he'd have missed it. "However, I do believe part of the late warden's traditions was to speak privately with the prisoners, without interruption from such fine gentleman such as yourselves.

"You may leave." He paused, and laughed. "Or at least pretend to. If the young man decides to run at me, I assure you all that my cane is mighty indeed. Retirement and old age doesn't mean I'm an invalid. Off with you." M'onk waved one hand and waited until the guards and the infernal canine were out of sight.

Then he huffed and sank back into his chair, smile faded to an expression more on the line of curiousity, taking in the young man before him. "Right, well! Sit down, son, sit down. I'm not going to bite you or something, I'm not a firelizard." M'onk chortled, the creases on his face deepening. "So. This is Warden's Weyr. It's not exactly a vacation, but it'll do. Were you one of those Dusters?"

[Cansi]

The moment the guards and the scary canine were a bit further away, Tekaine managed to make himself stand a little straighter, though his green eyes still shied away from meeting the overseer's gaze. He took a seat gingerly, face feeling hot from the force of his embarrassment. You're a wimp, is what you are, he told himself savagely. So he shook himself mentally, and made himself watch M'onk's observation. The new inmate even tried for a trembling smile. No, the man was definitely not a firelizard. But if he was, he'd be pure metal, a klah-colored bronze. There was something strong and vital about the old guy, something Tekaine couldn't define to himself. Authority like a cloak, but easy, unconscious.

The young man had no desire to come across as rude- it was bad enough that he was wearing this tasteless bright red suit that declared his lack of discretion for him- or terrified, which was half true. So when he answered, he kept his voice clear (with effort) of stuttering this time. "No, sir," he said, meeting those brown eyes in an attempt to show the man he was being honest. "I had a wasting sickness less than a month ago. I've never tried Dust in my life."

He wasn't sure whether he was allowed to ask any questions, so for the time being he resigned himself to only answer them.

[nozomi]

Fortunately for all of the prisoners at Warden's, M'onk cared not if their uniform clashed with whatever it was their skintone happened to be. Clothing and matching and all those sorts of things the Overseer tended to declare as women's worries, not something that he, as an old man, need worry about. As for the prisoners, people made mistakes, all of that good noise. It didn't mean he had to hate them all.

"Oh," said M'onk, large eyebrows arching up on his forehead. "Delightful. I'm going to assume you're feeling better now. Make sure to keep seeing the Healers, then. Wouldn't want you getting sick again on us. That'd be quite bad."

Chipper once more, M'onk smiled, eyes crinkled and posture relaxed. Sentencing prisoners was so far distanced from actually dealing with them that it sort of blew his mind. Just a little. Thieves, he'd put them away. Hadn't talked to one of them before, though. Not like this. "Now, son, do you have any questions for me? I'm quite afraid the words a prisoner may want to hear have escaped me. What do you want to know?"

[Cansi]

The idea of seeing the healers on a continual basis made Tekaine want to say no thank you for the briefest of moments. He had heard of Warden's Weyr, no details, but plenty of rumors and none of it good. He sort of expected the guards to keep the prisoners from actually murdering each other, but there was a lot of potential pain waiting out there in this place. Now that he was cleared to ask, though, he gummed his tongue long enough to work up moisture to swallow (and give him time to put the words together).

"Now that I'm here," the young man started carefully, "what am I going to be doing? I heard that people are locked up like animals here, and only come out to be hosed down. And food put through the bars of their cages." His green eyes were wide and hardly blinked, his shoulders slouching down a little as his voice sort of trailed off. "And that the guards bet on fights between the criminals to see who squeals first..."

Now that he said it all aloud, in front of this nice-looking old guy, Tekaine wanted to take every word back and sit there, mute. He was sure to find out all that soon enough, without taking up the overseer's time. After all... things couldn't be that bad under this man's authority... could they...?

[nozomi]

"... er. What?"

Of all the things M'onk expected to hear, those were not it. Tekaine caught the Bronzerider well and truly off guard, grayed eyebrows shooting high up on his forehead. M'onk's smile faltered for a brief second; it was all he could do to keep from outright gawking at the young prisoner. The last time anyone made the old man speechless was when the words 'Sooo Warden's was broken out of and V'tya murdered' fell from the current WatchLeader's mouth that fateful morning.

"No. My dear boy, no. The only prisoners confined for great lengths of time are those in solitary confinement. The ones being punished for infractions, rapists, murderers, the sort not fit for general population." M'onk blinked finally, slow movements of heavy eyelids. "You aren't one of them. Prisoners have a recreation area, an eating area. You may work, if you'd like. Things will be better for you in that situation."

His nose wrinkled. "And there is no pit fighting. Or betting. The guards know full well what will happen if they abuse a prisoner. There was a report of guard abuse before the breakout. Both were stripped of rank and sent back to their home Holds in shame. I'm more interested in where you heard these things. Warden V'tya had a stern reputation but - No. I can assure you this is not like - any of that."

[Cansi]

If Tekaine were a different sort of person, he might've been amused at the way M'onk's face contorted when he was surprised. As it was he could only summon a little relief, though it was short lived as it occurred to him that the guy could only be surprised that the truth had gotten out about this place! But the words the overseer spoke next seemed honest enough to calm the avian-wing flutter of the younger man's heartbeat back to regularity. "That's good, then," he said in a small voice. "I've lost a lot of muscle mass. Work would do wonders."

He didn't assume that work was an offer, but figured he'd treat it as such. When he was in the detox wing he had noticed through his horror and shame at his new circumstances that there seemed to be few... ehh, 'extraneous' sorts. It stood to reason that the facility wouldn't want to pay staff to do menial labor while the prisoners were capable of the same for no wage at all. 'Better for you in that situation' - perhaps there were perks of some sort? Like not being thrown to the violent types, he thought to himself. M'onk said it wasn't that way, and Tekaine definitely wanted to believe him. He just also had had enough experience in his young life with people and their personalities that he would be shocked if there weren't a few power-hungry egomaniacs among the guards- the sort that would enjoy being able to order a prisoner around at the very least. To do what, he didn't want to think about.

He gathered his wits and scolded himself silently. The overseer hadn't convinced him, the words most likely meant as reassurance taken as cold comfort. If M'onk didn't know about it, prisoner abuse couldn't be punished, now could it? But he was owed an answer, a truthful one, about why the journeyman healer-turned-thief had such notions. It was a measure of how the meeting had limbered his tongue that he was able to give the response without verbal stumbling now. "At the sea hold I was stationed at," Tekaine murmured, above a whisper if not by much. "The way some of the sailors talked, threat of being brought here was all that kept the worst of the lot from turning pirate. Maybe they just wanted to outdo one another with horror stories- like the ghost tales told at Turnover." He shrugged, one diminutive shoulder rising and falling. "If that was the case, the stories must have been as old as this place; they sounded solid, at least."

Tekaine didn't add that some of those stories had come from his main client there, the one who'd passed the virus to him (shard her) with their physical congress. It was something he preferred not to think about, in light of the current conversation. There were dragons here. Dragons meant mating flights. Mating flights meant flight-lust. Flight-lust meant working without pay. A sad cycle all around...