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blue__monday @ : [meeting for April 29 -- finish up last week's, if you want to]
Monday sits down on the couch. "Hey, meeting starting," she says loudly to get the attention of a few stragglers. She clears her throat and looks around. "This week we're talking about asexuality. What it is, what you don't know, what questions you might have...what you think about the subject, anything."
She shrugs. "I think I'm going to turn it over to you guys."
[OOC: Asexual Visibility and Education Network
: I'm pretty sure this isn't a topic covered in general sex ed classes, so if anyone thinks their char SHOULD know more about this and doesn't, or just wants to read a little bit up on the topic, here's a message board.
OOCagain: Sorry, Jonas. Hee.]
"Okay. My only question is," she pauses, "what is it? Not like, 'What the hell is that supposed to mean?!' but what's asexual, and what's a low sex drive, and do hormones still function, like do you want to do things but not with people or...?"
"I didn't even know it actually existed. The only thing I remember being told about that waslike..that's how plants reproduce or something. Or was the abiotic? Or something completely different." Brooklyn made a face and scratched his head, "I retrack my statements completely," he laughed.
"That's something different," Seb said with a smile. He turned to Chase. "I think it depends on the person. I mean, there are those who do things and the degree of it is up to them. They might feel like they have to for their partner, or be pressured into it by society but then there are others who might like it but have no feelings of attraction and distance themselves. Kind of like a lot of sexuality issues, it's what you feel comfortable with."
She nods, and tilts her head slightly to contemplate what it's like.
"Well," she finally says, "I'm asexual, but it's a forced asexuality. And yes, Brook, asexual is also a form of regeneration for animals of some species. That much I do know."
Jonas has pushed himself as far down into the couch as humanly possible. He's been through most of these discussions before, and he's sick of having to explain things over and over. If the door was closer, he'd probably try and weasel out of this meeting. He wasn't even going to say anything at all, but he can't help it now. He keeps tucked down behind his knees, half hoping that maybe people won't realize he's the one talking.
"No one can force you to be asexual, any more than someone can force you to be gay. Or straight. And most people in this room know how well that works. It just doesn't work that way. You can be forced to be celibate, meaning you're not getting any, but not asexual."
Jonny, from where he's sitting across from Chase, grins. "Yeah, Chase, I mean, if you were asexual, I think you'd get teased a whole lot less." He laughs and waggles a hand at her, then grins. "I'm getting out of line here, but I mean. Come on. I haven't had sex in a while, but I still want to."
Monday sighs and rubs her temple, feeling like she should have said something a long time ago, and having not really had the chance.
"Look, guys, let's all take a break. Cool off, take a smoke break, have some serotonin. If you want to come back afterwards, we'll talk about things. If you don't, then that's okay too. I'm sorry that I've been neglecting responsibilities here -- just. Take 10 and when you come back, come back as human beings." She darted a look around the room. "Please."
Celia leans over, whispers something to Chase, and grabs her coat. Then, she turns to Jonny, "Do you wanna come with, you don't have to. We're just not staying for this kind of shit."
She stands up, and waits for an answer.
Jonny has already grabbed his lighter -- he needs a smoke, desperately. This offer makes him pause, and he sits back down. "I...don't know. Hold on." He sighs. On the one hand, his ex (and good friend) has just been involved in what seems like a bizarre quarrel. He's pretty sure both sides of it are over the line, and he's not sure he wants to stay in this room where the tension is buzzing like a broken computer.
On the other side, he feels like nothing gets solved if he leaves in anger. The chick running this is sitting on the table, looking somewhere between about to shoot herself and about to punch someone.
"Shit," he thinks aloud and stands up, looks at Celia. "I think I'm gonna stay.. I mean, hell, Whatshisname just left, too, I think. There has to be some actual discussion left in the room." He smiles awkwardly. "If I made a tragic mistake, I'll let you know."
Celia half-smiles, "It's cool. Don't get yourself killed. Call me when you get home?"
Jonny nods at her. "Yeah, I'll call you. ...Don't kill anyone else, okay?" He grins.
"Bah. Ruin all my fun," she grins, then turns.
Chase sighs, quietly, "Yeah." She is more than a tiny bit shaken up. She pulls on her coat, and with Celia behind her, makes to walk out of the room.
Meg takes a deep breath. She feels like words are caught in her throat, and if it weren't for the desperation she can instictively hear in Monday's voice -- Monday doesn't ever sound upset, but this is pretty damn close -- she'd grab Seb and go. Or maybe just go, though that would be equally upsetting.
She'd been about to speak at the traumatic asexuality bit, and the confrontation that ensued scared the shit out of her. More than anything, she hates fighting. It makes her want to leave, to shut down and go somewhere else. It makes her shoulders tingle and ache.
Now she wonders what she would have said. I'm sure I'm not actually asexual, but I don't think I could ever have sex. With anyone. Ha ha, yeah right. And then explaining it? She couldn't. Only Monday would get it, and Seth, if he were here. And Monday would get angry and violent looking, in that way that Meg thinks is pointless and should just be over. No, she guesses it's better she didn't say anything. She sighs again.
Miranda comes over, semi-silently.
"Sorry," is all she says.
She's not sure why she's saying it to Meg, exactly, except that Meg seems to be freaked, and she's the only one who's neither especially older or especially busy ranting about something. So she says it to Meg.
Meg blinks at Miranda and smiles slightly. She's the one who brought up this whole thing, but she's been quiet the whole time since. She looks a little freaked out.
Meg looks at her. "It's not your fault. That they went nuts, I mean; if that's what you're sorry for." She smiles. "You're Miranda, right?"
She nods, "Yeah. But, apparently I had a very stupid question? Or something? Because people got really, really pissed."
She pauses, softer, "But yeah, I'm Miranda."
Meg shakes her head. "No, actually, it's a perfectly reasonable question. I mean, I can see...how someone who is asexual might get defensive...but. It's also silly. Because. Well." Meg knows she's rambling and swallows. "Well, people do kind of close up shop sometimes when things happen." She chews on her lip. "And it's not the only reason someone might be asexual, but it is a valid point." She nods at her. "It was a fine question to ask."
She smiles. "I'm Meg, by the way."
Paul reaches for the cigarettes in his coat pocket, then pauses, wondering how many people have darted outside for a smoke. Jonas, Brook, probably half the rest of them by now -- the stoop of an alliance is a gay mecca.
It's not that he doesn't want to talk to Jonas, it's that he doesn't know what to say. And doesn't want to talk around everyone else. And he's pretty sure Jonas doesn't want to talk to anyone, which sometimes includes him.
But he needs a smoke.
He pauses, halfway to the door, and looks at Monday. "How're you doing?"
Monday graces him with a chilling smile in response.
"Jussst. Lovely. I feel perfectly capable as a moderator tonight, thank you. In combination with the fact that it's now been almost exactly a month since Chriss broke up with me, and she has a new...whatever? I'm doing fucking lovely, Andersen."
She sighs. "How're you? Your boyfriend's on edge tonight."
Paul blinks. "I didn't know Chriss had a new whatever." He says it as if the phrase is perfectly ordinary. "I'm sorry." Monday shrugs, stares at her hands. "And you're doing fine."
He pauses for a moment as if running over her phrasing. "Also, he's not my fucking boyfriend. Jesus. But yeah." He speaks quietly. "You're not supposed to be keeping us under control, okay? We're all fucking adults. Except for whatsherface. Miranda. So calm down. It's not your responsibility."
Monday smiles, familiar with Paul's unhesitant and blunt style of complement, and the way in which it always sounds more true. His deadpan conversation never sounds like flattery, or white lie, mostly because it's not. Somehow, in five+ years of knowing him, she's still unused to the way he makes her feel good.
She shakes it off by ruffling his hair affectionately, which he makes a face at, shaking his hair back into place. "Go smoke, Andy, you know you want to."
Paul nods and heads outside to smoke. He gets there just as Jonas takes off, and frowns discontentedly at the back of Jonas' coat.
Half of him feels like going after the boy, or calling after him. The other half informs him gently that 1)that would actually be like BEING his boyfriend, and 2)Jonas needs time to cool down.
Paul watches him unblinkingly, the way Paul does, and sits down on the steps to smoke.
(ooc: off-shoot thread. does that make sense? What I mean is that this is going on while the other stuff is, just in a different location.)
Jonas is almost home, having covered the distance much quicker than usual, when he realizes something.
"Fuck!" He stops suddenly and swears, and the woman walking her dog past him hurries her steps at his seemingly random outburst.
He turns, takes a few steps back the way he came, deciding to go back to the meeting, then changes his mind and turns again, takes a few more steps toward his apartment, then stops altogether. "Fuck."
Instead of going any further in either direction, he pulls out his cell phone and walks over to the front steps of a nearby building. He scrolls through the numbers as he sits down, hoping the number he needs is in there.
It is (filed under "DollBoy" in his phonebook), and he dials it. He rests his elbow on his knee, holding his head up with one hand as the phone rings.
"Come on," he mutters to himself, "pick up your phone."