Bundle of Joy and Slob

[Demetra Katsaros]

[OOC: Sam Ballerino is requested for this thread, but others may post after her if interested. =D]

Oh noes! A teenage mother? Shock and dismay!

Okay, so the baby in the stroller wasn't mine, but I had gotten a fair share of awkward glances from other people in the park. Hasn't anyone heard of a baby sitter before? Must they assume that this seven-month old girl came from my vagina?

Yet if I were to be honest, I was having quite a bit of fun. Not only were babies like Lindsay undeniably cute, but it was interesting to be part of my own social experiment. Would I be treated differently if I was older, or if a father figure were nearby? I liked seeing people's reactions, even if none of them were actually brave enough and verbalize what they thought about my alleged promiscuity and irresponsibility.

It hadn't been all good times, though. Lindsay had a huge, loud freakout session when she was initially taken away from her mommy's arms and put in my care for the day. "Oh come on," I had told her, bouncing her up and down in unsuccessful efforts to quiet her crying. "I'm not that bad. It's pretty insulting, the way you're acting like I'm some evil monster." She didn't understand a word I said, of course, and the only way to hush her ended up being shaking a Piglet stuffed animal in front of her and improvising odd voices. Apparently I could be a very entertaining puppeteer.

I got a little restless myself, though. There was a light breeze outside, but it was rather warm, so I thought the park would be a nice place to push her in the stroller her mother left for me. I kind of wanted to put her on one of those bouncy horse things, yet I didn't think she was old enough to handle it. So I ended up sitting on a bench, peeling my orange while she took a nap. A little drool fell down her face. I quickly wiped it off.

When I got older, I was going to have a bunch of these little poopers. I'd adopt, rather than add to the population and experience morning sickness for a few months, but I imagined I'd still love them all. I would have to be financially stable first.

I popped an orange wedge into my mouth. What an interesting day.

[Sam Ballerino]

Sam was going for a run.

Well, to be honest, it was more of a walk, really. Running tended to tighten up all the muscles that a dancer needed to keep loose. Walking was less of a strain in that sense. Sam just needed to get out of the house. With everything that had been going on lately, she just needed to get out, go off by herself for a little while, and get a rest from all the curve balls that Life was flinging everywhere.

She needed to climb some trees.

She put on her climbing jeans, the all-naturally-ripped ones that looked like they were worth hundreds, only she'd gotten them at a garage sale for six dollars. Stupid trends.

The park had a lot of trees, but only a few that were allowed to grow big enough to be worth a climb. Sam found a good one next to a bench and spent the next few minutes making her way up it, finding a comfortable branch that she could lie down on and people watch while she listened to her iPod.

She started to doze off when she head someone sit down on the bench near her tree. Looking down, she saw a girl around her age with an infant. Was the baby hers? Sam preferred to think the girl was just a babysitter - at this age nobody was ready to be a mother - but she also preferred not to make assumptions. The girl did look familiar, though. Sam thought maybe she recognized her from school.

She climbed down a couple of branches, letting herself fall the rest of the fifteen or so feet to the ground and landing in a crouch before picking herself up and walking toward the stroller, and the teenager next to it.

"She's cute," Sam offered with a smile. She'd always liked kids. "How old?"

[Demetra Katsaros]

I grinned widely. Victim number one? Ah, maybe. We'll see how it goes.

"I had her twenty-two weeks ago," I replied to the tree-climber before me. "So that makes it about... seven months." I let my voice trail off as if I was pausing to do the math in my head, but I really already knew the answer. A little snicker emerged from my mouth. This wasn't going to be easy. I could lie about some things without too much problem (Don't get me wrong, I'm honest most of the time), but acting like the child was mine was more than I could handle.

"I'm just messing with you," I confessed. "Her mom is a friend of my mom's, and they're out for the day for some old buddy bonding." I glanced back over toward the stroller. Hmm. It seemed that the baby was awake. She was sitting quietly with her eyes open, glancing around her at the strange world that surrounded her. I put the remains of my orange back into my canvas bag and gently lifted her up into my lap. Once she was settled onto my legs, leaning against my chest and abdomen, I returned my gaze to Samantha.

Wait. How did I know her name was Samantha? "You're in my psych. class," I realized out loud. "Mr. Burr called on you for something-- I remember." I smiled lightly. "My name's Demetra, in case you didn't catch it before, and this is Lindsay." Lindsay waved to Samantha (with my help, of course).

[OOC: I edited my first post because I realized it didn't make sense for the baby to be in Demetra's lap and in the stroller at the same time. XD]

[Sam Ballerino]

Sam nodded once. "Oh." She didn't really know what to say at that point, and stood there a bit awkwardly, until the girl said she was joking. Sam laughed, blushing. "Babysitting. Nice. You get all the good parts, and get to give them back and actually sleep at night." Sam smirked.

She followed the girl's gaze to the stroller, where the baby had woken up. Sam smiled, watching the little one watch the world around her with an innocent fascination that... well... fascinated her.

The girl mentioned psych class, and it rang a bell. "Psych! That's it. I knew you looked familiar." She was surprised she remembered Sam being called on, though. The girl had a good memory. "I prefer to be called Sam, though," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Demetra," she said softly. She didn't remember hearing the name in class. "I like it. It sounds Greek." She grinned at Lindsey. "Hi!" She said, smiling and reaching out to touch the girl's tiny fingers.

[Demetra Katsaros]

Sam. That was cute. Sam was cute. The name the teacher used was Samantha, so that's what I had initially put her under in my mind, but I wasn't going to use the whole thing if it wasn't her preference.

She was pretty, in a non high-maintenance way, which had some appeal on me. Except I wasn't shallow, and I didn't like to make judgments based on appearance, at least those that determined whether I was interested in a person or not. But what I could open my intrigue to was her personality. She was easy to talk to so far, and she seemed reasonably intelligent. After all, she had been able to recognize the origins of my name. Plus, her little habits were charming: laughing, blushing, and wrinkling her nose. Ah, yet I wasn't exactly the flirtatious type, whether with males or females. Intellectual conversation was more important to me than attraction, and my current situation didn't call for exploring beyond my norms.

Yet she seemed to like babies. That was a nice bonus. "Good ear," I replied smoothly. "It's from the Greco-Roman deity Demeter, goddess mother of earth, grain, and fertility." I patted the baby's head, my fingertips light on the soft, thin tresses of her hair. "But the fertility part has nothing to do with me, of course." My eyes shifted back up to Sam. "Last name is Katsaros. It means 'curly-haired' in Greek. That's pretty spot on, since I have curly hair."

Lindsay's small hands grasped around Sam's finger. I think it was a baby instinct thing. I had read that a baby could grip so hard around a person's fingers that she could hold herself up without falling if lifted off the ground. Still, I didn't want Lindsay to be my test subject. Actually, I didn't want a test subject at all. I'd just have to assume it' true. "Hey, it looks like she likes you."

[Sam Ballerino]

Sam grinned, a bright little half smile as Lindsay grabbed hold of her finger. "She's got a good grip." She smiled at the tiny thing, bobbing her finger gently up and down, and the baby's hand with it.

She looked back up at Demetra. "'Curly-haired, huh? Yeah, I suppose that does describe you pretty well." She noticed a slight omission, though. "How well does the rest of your name relate to you?" She enjoyed this girl. She was smart, and easy to talk to, and she made Sam feel more positive about things.

She sat down next to Demetra on the bench, her finger still in the young thing's grasp, and let out a little snort of laughter. "My last name's Ballerino. It's a nickname; means 'dancer.'" She smirked, raising a wry eyebrow at the girl. "Guess what my favorite hobby is?"

[Demetra Katsaros]

Lindsay seemed pretty amused by just grabbing on to Sam's fingers. If she wasn't crying, that was a good sign that she didn't need to burp, feed, or poop. I didn't really want to have to change diapers in the middle of the park, anyway, and who knows if there was a station at any of the nearby bathrooms...

And unless Sam was just trying to keep conversation, she appeared genuinely interested in the etymology of names.

"How well does the rest of your name relate to you?"

"The rest of it, hm?" It was an interesting question, like one you'd find on an essay or interview. I liked that, though. Decent interviewers knew better than to ask 'yes or no' questions, or ones that required one word answers. She knew that there was more depth to what she was asking, and that I could eventually blather on about myself. "I think my mom knew about my first name. She's kind of a tree-hugger like me, so 'earth goddess' seemed fitting. I mean, I don't think anyone has prayed to me for the sake of their crops, but I like it. And my middle name--" Ugh. Ew. "--I don't like it very much. It's Eireen, and it's not spelled the way you'd think; that is, it doesn't start with an 'I'." I sighed. "But that one means 'peace,' and I guess I'm a fan of peace. World peace, anyway. I'm not always the most peaceful person to be around." All my names were Greek, as Sam was able to pick up on, but my roots weren’t entirely in Greece. I was a bit of a mutt, actually. My mom must’ve thought the name would be prettier if it had one unified language.

"My last name's Ballerino. It's a nickname; means 'dancer’. Guess what my favorite hobby is?”

“Hmmm…” I placed a finger on my lip and lifted my eyes upward, indicating that I was deeply contemplating the question. “Babysitting?” I offered, obviously joking. “Ha. That’s actually a really weird coincidence, then. People usually get their family names based on their ancestors, and I guess curly hair runs in my family, and dancing runs in yours.” My trait was genetic, though, so it made a little more sense. I’d never heard of the last name Ballerino. Not that I thought she was lying. It sounded like ‘ballerina,’ which was Italian for ‘female dancer,’ and I was pretty sure the male equivalent to that was ‘ballerino,’ at least in Italy. However, the term was originally given to the most superb ballet soloists in the 1800s. One of her granddaddies must’ve been pretty badass on his toes. “Out of curiosity, what’s your dad like?” It was a little rude of me to assume that she had received her last name from her father; after all, my parents were never married, and therefore my own name came right from my momma, who got hers from her dad. Still, I didn’t outright say that her parents were together or had been together when she was born.

[Sam Ballerino]

Sam grinned at the girl's reaction to her middle name. "I like it," she said. "It's pretty. Even if it's not spelled with an I." She raised an eyebrow.

"I always wondered how the name came to us, actually," she said. It was her father's name, but somehow she doubted that her father, or the last few of his fathers before him, had had anything to do with dancing. And then Demetra asked about the old man himself. Sam sighed, letting the breath out slowly on a whistle.

Lindsay let go of her finger, and Sam sat up, scratching her head. "He was in the Italian military. And he wants the house to be ruled like that. He had a fit when my mother suggested dancing lessons; he'd rather see me saluting or learning a martial art than running around on my toes in a tutu." She sighed. Originally, he'd wanted to have a son, and was understandably disappointed when Sam came out, with a definite lack of maleness.

Sam smiled. "I guess he's just trying to raise me right." Even if the term "right" had different meanings for the both of them.

[Demetra Katsaros]

"Ick, no!" I exclaimed, appalled that she actually liked my middle name. Of course, she could just saying that to be nice, but still, was she on crack? "I don't really care if it was spelled the other way. It sounds terrible. Even old ladies shouldn't want that name. No offense to elderly women, of course."

From there, I listened to her explanation of her dad. Wow, even more bleckiness. "That's horrible," I replied, furring my brows together at the idea that this man objected to his daughter's dance lessons, presumably because he wanted her to be somewhat of a tomboy. "I hate the whole gender role thing. There really shouldn't be labels on what's considered masculine or feminine, because then children are raised to feel pressure to fit into the categories of their sex, predetermined by their parents or other influential figures in their environment and frowned upon by peers as they are trying to develop healthy relationships." I could go on about this for awhile. I had even protested to Lindsay's mom about dressing her up in pink dresses and bows and giving her dolls to play with, because that was already sending out the message that she was expected to do girl things, like place time and effort into her appearance to appeal to a Prince Charming one day. It was pretty fucked up.

"See, if you like things that are considered 'girly,' then that's fine. You should do it because it's what you love, not because you want to keep a bit of your femininity. And if your dad wants to get you interested in hobbies that are generally male-oriented, keep your mind open. There's no reason a female can't do 'boy stuff.'" I bounced Lindsay on my knee lightly. She probably wasn't very entertained about my in-depth discussion about gender roles in society. "I feel no pressure myself either way, really. I like caring for animals and sewing clothes, and maybe that's considered feminine, but I'd like to think I'd still enjoy those things if I had a penis and Y chromosome. And I do martial arts and make sex jokes, but I don't think that makes me manly. You see what I'm saying?"

[Sam Ballerino]

Sam had to disagree, at least in terms of personal experience. "Yeah, but in my case, I was raised almost the exact opposite way. My dad pressured me into a very masculine role from a young age. Insisting on dance lessons was my mother's way of allowing me to be a girl. I didn't stick with it for that reason." Sam danced for no reason other than she loved doing it. The fact that it was good exercise, and the fact that it was somewhat of a thorn in her father's side, were just added bonuses. "But even then, I was completely tomboy for a long time; besides dancing, my favorite things to do was to climb rocks and trees. My rebellion stage was becoming a 'normal' girl; makeup, skirts, the whole thing." It hadn't done any good, of course.

She approved of Demetra's sentiments, though. Sam had learned to find a good balance between her masculine and feminine sides, and said as much. "I get what you mean. Once I got through the rebellion bit, I found a balance. I have tomboy days, and girlish days. But I still love dancing. And I'm learning to be a better fighter. Studying a martial art, just like Daddy wants me to." Never mind the fact that it had been forced on her; it had been a good experience so far, even if she wasn't yet able to adapt it to a high-stakes situation yet. With her classes, and with Damien's help, she'd get there soon enough.

[Demetra Katsaros]

Hm. Maybe I misinterpreted her conundrum. "See, what I was trying to say was that there shouldn't be boy things and girl things. You don't need to strike a balance if you don't feel like it. Things should just be things." That last sentence wasn't particularly profound. "That is to say, there is no need for a gender label to be attached. If you want to be more boy than girl, or more girl than boy, who's to say no? And who's to say which part is boyish and which part is girlish?" Now I was probably just being confusing. Let's go off to something else.

"Even if you aren't a big fan of your dad's pressures, though, I still think learning martial arts is a good idea." I was biased, sure, but there was no reason for me not to be. "I might think this way because I happen to teach a little bit of martial arts, but I think until the world is rid of violence and cruelty, finally reaching the ideal stage of world peace, as I mentioned before, self-defense is very important. And you, going to Moral Crest like I do, should be pretty aware of that. There will be times where you can't just talk things out or run away, and at those times, you'll be happy that you're well trained enough to fend for yourself."

[OOC: Wow, this post had some weird coloration in the dialogue. Edited. =p]

[Sam Ballerino]

"You're absolutely right, I'm glad he forced me to do it." Well, there's that little fact out in the open. "It makes me feel independent, and more sure of myself. Knowing that I could protect myself if I need to." Of course, that feeling never lasted outside of class. Damien was a tough teacher.

"I think he takes the 'tough love' concept to extremes, though. He didn't think I was aggressive enough, and when he heard about Moral Crest's rather turbulent reputation... well, here I am." She shrugged. "I thought it was a death sentence at first, but I'm learning a lot about what it really takes to defend yourself. Which, I suppose, is what he wanted. Plus, despite all the violence, there's a lot of good people here." She grinned, obviously including Demetra in that statement. She'd made some good friends already, and whatever her feelings on her father's parenting style may be, she was actually glad he'd sent her here.

[Demetra Katsaros]

"Your dad wanted you to go to Moral Crest to toughen you up?" I asked in surprise. "Oh hell, I'd never do that to my kid." I leaned over to look at the baby's face, as her back was toward me. "You wouldn't want to go to a mean school like ours, right Lin-Lin?" I stroked her head lightly. It was as if sound never emitted from my mouth at all. "Really, if I could change the system, I would. I wish kids actually appreciated their free educated and wanted to learn just because they could have more knowledge, rather than enforce this inane form of discipline on them. Honestly, I think that the whole corporeal punishment thing is more harm than good; I think it teaches kids that violence is alright, that it's a tool to get your way, to gain control, because that's exactly how it's used on campus." I sighed heavily. "I don't have all the answers, though. I just think that Moral Crest has the wrong one."

Time to change the subject. "On a lighter note, I'd love to see one of your performances, if you have any in the future. I'm not much of a dancer myself, but I can certainly respect a person who is dedicated to put time and effort into something she enjoys." I smiled warmly. "I'll even meet you up at one of your practices, if recital dates are too far off."

[Sam Ballerino]

Sam chewed on her lip, thinking about what Demetra was saying. "Well," she said, "I can see why they chose to go the route of corporal punishment. Fight fire with fire, that whole thing. But it's definitely not sending kids the right message at all. At the same time, though, it's way too much to expect from a lot of the students to actually consider school important. They just don't care, and the only people who can change that are themselves."

Her face broke into a wide grin, though, as Demetra mentioned coming to a performance. She always warmed to someone who showed an interest in dance, even if it was just for her sake. "Sure! I don't think we have any recitals scheduled for a few months, but you'd be more than welcome to come to a class if you'd like. Maybe I'll even make you participate." She smirked. "It's fun to help people discover their inner dancer."

Sam was a firm believer in the philosophy that "if you can breathe, you can dance." It wasn't just about the moves you do, and how you look; the technique was just a factor. But the true fundamentals of dancing went much deeper than that. It was about moving, about changing, and discovering an awareness of yourself and your atmosphere. On it's deepest level it was about life - a perfect example of the old "Art imitates Life" saying. So when someone told her they couldn't dance, or anything similar, she just smiled, and knew they were wrong.

[Demetra Katsaros]

"Participate?" I repeated. I shook my head, though I wasn't exactly saying no. "Oh boy, you're asking for a lot of trouble there. I'd trip and knock down all your little dancer friends like dominoes. Besides, I imagine you have to pay to be part of the dance program, depending on what you're enrolled in, and your teacher may not want to throw me a freebie lesson."

Honestly, I wasn't worried that much about them charging. It was more that I'd drag the others down. They had a common goal, and I would probably be a nuisance, taking away time for them to reach it. "But, if it does end up being alright, I guess I'll give it a shot. And hey, maybe you could be my teacher, seeing that you probably know what you're doing well enough to show a newbie the basics." I smirked and winked at Sam. Hey, I wasn't flirting with her. I was just being fun and friendly. If she had to get up close and all up in my space to show me some hot dance moves, then so be it. I'd be good at keeping my cool; I wasn't the 'get flustered' type. As I said, intelligent conversation was more important to me than attraction, physical or otherwise (appearances weren't part of my turn-ons, anyway).

"Here, I'll give you my number, and you can call me when you think it'll be a good date."