Logs:Double Standards
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| RL Date: 1 September, 2015 |
| Who: Hattie, E'dre, Elaruth, Wroth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Weyrleaders discuss a cut in riders' pay and Dee's request for a door. |
| Where: Weyrleader's Office, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 9, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Dee/Mentions, X'vin/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, Ebeny/Mentions |
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| It's heading towards late afternoon when Wroth's mind seeps towards Elaruth in the politest trickle he may ever use: his voice is subdued as he informs her: « He wishes to speak with the Weyrwoman. Now if possible. In the Weyrleader's Office. » The office door has been locked and will require a knock for someone to enter. When it comes, E'dre is quick to answer and usher Hattie inside with a clipped, "Thank you for coming. We need to talk about Dee." He's wearing his irritation clear on his face and his demeanor is not at all pleasant. He ushers Hattie to a chair and then seats himself on the edge of the desk as his arms fold in front of him. "We were talking about ballsy bronzeriders trying to influence her the other day," he gets right to the point, "and she told me someone came into her weyr and she wanted a door against them in the future. I," he lifts a hand to brush through his hair abruptly, "got really angry. She wouldn't tell me who. And Taeliyth supported that." He looks to Hattie, "I told her to come to you. But I'm telling you now I will not tolerate anyone who thinks they can go into a weyr unsolicited and try anything. I've been trying to calm down and think about this rationally and it has yet to happen." He shrugs, looking to her with a frown. « In a few minutes, » is the eventual reply that Elaruth offers Wroth, her words tinged with the tension of not being able to immediately sort out and deliver what's asked of her, whether it's Hattie's distaste for the delay or her own. It's a little longer than a few minutes before Hattie emerges from the caverns and makes her way towards the Weyrleaders' complex, and what mood she may be in is helped none by needing to knock on a door she's rarely had to request passage through before. At least she's had the sense to not bring the baby with her. She fusses at E'dre as he tries his ushering, hands swatting ineffectively at him, though she does surrender and sit in the chair. As she listens, her expression turns more grim, until she declares, "Regardless of who or why, the fact that she feels she's not safe means she should have the door and more to protect her." A moment passes, then: "N'muir and I have a door that separates the outer weyr from our bedroom. And, well, I know I can defend myself. I also know Elaruth and Bijedth wouldn't let anything happen to us, and if I'm ever incapacitated, I know N'muir will defend my honour whether I like it or not. She needs a door, she needs Taeliyth and she needs belief in herself." "Of course she can have sharding door!" E'dre explodes, throwing his hands up. "I'm-this-it's," he splutters as he tries to form his thoughts around the chaos of his temper. "Hattie. No woman should have to feel so unsafe that they need protection in their own weyr. It's- I want a name," he decides, seething. "And the person responsible for the need of that door will be punished." He shoves off of the desk and stalks across the room. He shoves his hands in his pockets to keep himself from throwing objects as he passes them. Shoulders hunched, he continues to pace before he turns and heads back to Hattie. "Do all the women feel this accosted by men here?" he demands of her. Hattie observes E'dre's reaction with a still, eerie calm that the sharp heat in her dark eyes completely belies. "Calm down," she insists, so low that it could sound like an order. "I don't need a lecture on what women should and shouldn't endure. I've lived with the prejudices and the double standards and the disgusting behaviour of a particular breed of men; believe me - I don't need to be told." She watches E'dre pace, one of her hands curled around the other. "I suppose not all women, no, but however it makes you feel, most of the women you know have endured fears that you, by dint of being male, will never have to. And that's before we even begin to consider flights and greenriders of either gender." Glancing down into her lap, she murmurs, "As for who... your weyrmate would be better placed to make suggestions, having observed Dee in closer quarters than I." E'dre heaves a sigh and moves back to the desk, choosing to sit at the chair behind it than perch against it this time. He must've taken her insistence as an order as he closes his eyes for a moment to further settle himself before he speaks. When he opens his eyes, there's still that spark of anger ready in the background, but he manages to nod in agreement. "I will ask Ebeny," he tells her, "because I want to show I am against this behavior. As a male. We aren't all," he waves his hand in place of words, "like that." He folds his arms in front of his chest as he leans back in his chair. "Should I not be upset simply because I am a man? If it was a male greenrider who came in here, or a male crafter, or one of our residents that spoke to me with that request - I'd be just as upset about it needing to be made. We're supposed to be above that Holder entitlement. I expect better of our people, Hattie." "Women have no way of knowing which man is going to take advantage and which is going to protect her. It only takes one..." Hattie murmurs. "We can all think we're seen as equal all we like, just like we can expect honesty and virtue and nobility, but the world doesn't work that way." She leans back in her chair and lets her head drop back as she drags a hand through her hair. "Expecting it doesn't make it happen. I would be as disgusted if it was a man who felt threatened, and very little of my reaction would be different, but the fact is that men are still taught that they have rights and entitlements that women don't." Her bitter smirk is not at all pleasant. "And I will tell every girl who doubts it that she is just as good as a man - better than a man - and just as worthy and bright and deserving, and to tell anyone who tells her otherwise where to shove it, but that fear... is still in most of us." E'dre has nothing to say and so he remains silent, his expression steely as he considers the desk in front of him rather than angling his glare on Hattie. "To know what my daughters all face," he breaks his silence as he finally looks up at Hattie, "Is probably the hardest realization I've ever had." He sighs and scrubs his hand across his face. "I probably upset Dee with my reaction. I'll need you to smooth that over for me," he looks contrite and far less angry as he lowers his hand to rest on the desk. "I am not all that good with my temper. I've gotten better but, I most likely made her think I was angry at the request and not the circumstances. I'd appreciate your help with that." He slouches back in his chair and considers Hattie for a moment. "How are you holding up? Is everything going as it should? Where do you need my help?" Hattie's smile is really nothing more than a sad twitch of her lips. "Girls raised to be confident in themselves are apt to feel the weight of what they're facing less, I think," she murmurs. "And, if they're lucky, they won't find themselves surrounded by people who want to put them down." Her deep sigh is audible. "If it's any consolation, I don't think I'd have had a much better hold on my temper, for her not being willing to say who as much as anything else. If she's acknowledging she wants a door to keep them out and doesn't realise how she must therefore feel..." She shrugs. "I'll do what I can, but I'll need you to talk to Ebeny and see if there are any likely candidates among either weyrling class - male or female." Hesitation follows, her automatic reaction bitten back to admit, "...I'm going to need you to side with me about a temporary dock in riders' pay. It won't be forever, but we all have means of making our own marks if need be." E'dre nods his head in answer to her speaking with Ebeny. "You both likely know how to handle these things better than I, and perhaps with more delicacy to get an answer I was not able to get. Perhaps Elaruth can lean on Taeliyth, if we really want to force the issue. But- that doesn't lead to trust, does it?" He sighs and shifts in his chair. "Why the dock?" he asks, surprise causing him to shift his focus more dramatically than he might have been ready to do. "If you think it entirely necessary, I will support it. But since some of our younger riders felt entitled to take what they wished, I wonder if docking pay wouldn't elicit similar tactics from some of the riders." He frowns, rubbing at his neck. "Can we reduce certain riders more than others? Our wingleaders and 'seconds, our own pay. The ones who may have more wiggle room than those who earn the least." "More or less to balance the books," Hattie answers about the dock in pay. "And because things went wandering. We've been running on a less than ideal financial footing for several turns now, with the trouble with the tithes, but we've made do. I think it's highly unlikely that a vast number of things will go missing again, with the check system in place, but..." She shrugs. "I've gone without pay entirely before, as did N'muir. I don't live extravagantly, and I've savings from when I had marks to spare, but I don't know if everyone else in our position has thought to put any marks away. If you think you won't get backlash from the wingleaders, I don't see why not, and even if you do, it might be an excuse to make more changes to wing leadership, if you've any in mind." E'dre considers Hattie's words with a thoughtful twist to his brows. "If they'd rather dock everyone, including their riders' pay, than take a hit themselves - or to lessen their hit - I'll want a good reason outside of 'I deserve it'," he reasons, tapping his fingers on the desk. "I've still got my issues with some of the wingleaders. Flint continues to operate on its own doing whatever X'vin thinks he should be allowed to or wants to do. It hasn't directly been a problem so I can't do anything about it." He shrugs and then looks away towards the door. "Let's see if we can't get by with smaller cuts. If those of us who have more responsibility can take the hit and make the difference, I'd rather that than the entire Weyr have to." He looks up at Hattie, "If people require more time for their crafts or pursuits that make them extra marks, we may have to allow them to do that. It couldn't hurt." "If we stagger it, it might be a more transparent way to go about things. It's been suggested that we dock riders' stipends by ten percent. If we cut wingleaders' by thirty and ours by fifty, it's plain that we're absorbing more than they are." Hattie takes a moment to consider, then adds, "And since we seem to be on the same page about the whole Weyr taking the hit, I should say I've already refused to let the caverns staff's pay be docked. Yet." Not that she appears entirely content with it, going by her grave expression. "They have few of the advantages being a rider brings, and some of them no way to better themselves, not through want of trying. If at all possible, I'd like to avoid another walkout, and I'm sure our riders would prefer to have their dinner and laundry and all available to them and suffer a pay cut, rather than the opposite." "I can agree to that," E'dre replies easily enough, "it'll be easier for all to digest, though some may try and complain about having steeper cuts than others. If any of my wingleaders come to you and complain, send them my way. You don't need that stress." He rubs his thumb along his jaw in thought as he listens to her. "No, we shouldn't have them forced to walk out again. I'm hoping that with you back in charge they'll feel more secure in their position. I never- I really never quite understood what happened to force it the last time." He sighs and stands, moving across the room to fuss at the fire. "Tea or whiskey?" he asks, turning back to look over his shoulder at her. "And I can call for food to be brought if you want to have lunch in here while we get caught up. We shouldn't go without either. I've got a busy afternoon and I'm sure you do as well." "I can more than explain myself if any of the wingleaders choose me to rail at instead of you, but I appreciate the thought," Hattie says quietly, slouching just a little in her chair. "People don't like change. It could have been that simple. Lilah... wasn't often very tactful in her dealings with people, so that may well have played into it, but all I can conclusively say is that I had no hand in it, beyond stepping down." She watches E'dre in silence, finding no desire to lay out any other issues just yet. "...I shouldn't drink, but I will," she tells him. "I've a meeting with Erinta later and she's not... as steady as Shevena. I could probably do with having any urge to snap dulled a little. Let's do lunch and get as much of the rest of it out of the way as we can." "I know you can handle yourself perfectly well when it comes to people bitching at you. You used to handle me, didn't you?" E'dre lifts a brow at her and a crooked grin surfaces. "I just want to reduce what is put on you. You still have a lot to handle at home and you don't need added burdens from the Weyr if I can help stop it." He goes for two glasses and returns to the desk. He sets a glass in front of Hattie and himself before he rummages in a drawer for a flask. "I think it's whiskey," he tells her as he pours each of them a small portion. "But it'll cut the edge off faster than anything else would." A moment later, a small brown firelizard pops from Between by the desk and lands. A note is written, folded, and attached to the creature before it launches once more to go Between. "Someone will bring us something soon. Now, as to these other matters," E'dre begins, leaning forward to slowly pass papers Hattie's way for perusal. The meeting will be interrupted only once with the arrival of food and eventually another round of whiskey will make its way around before the conclusion is reached and each of Fort's Weyrleaders go their separate ways. |
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