Of Scold and Scorn » Jane

[creep]

Routine wasn't a concept that Tybalt particularly took to, but if there's one thing that's solid in his habitual activities were morning jogs. 

While this remain typically consistent each day, the time often varied from early morning to late in the evening. On this particular day, he'd strapped on his runners at nine in the morning, and set off at nine-fifteen after a bowl of cereal. The sun was bright, and already hot at this hour. Luckily, Tybalt had worn loose shorts and a tight-fitting muscle shirt. 

As he ran, his forehead grew steadily moist with perspiration, and his breath quickened. These morning jogs kept him in shape and always made him feel better, especially after a stressful day. When things would become hectic, there was one thing he could count on was running. It was relaxing and didn't require much thinking. 

Tybalt was a simple man, and not an entirely intelligent one. He had his witty moments, but he didn't act very educated. 'Always act before thinking' was his way of reacting. To him, running was acting, and hadn't any need for complex thinking. This was one of the many aspects that he enjoyed about running. 

The growing noise of New York kept him alert. He crossed streets, pounded against sidewalks, and narrowly avoided other pedestrians. People split into two crowds to let him pass through, and he nodded in gratefulness for the grant of passage. He reached the Brooklyn Bridge without any issues, and the sun had risen even higher. Glancing at his wristwatch, he noted the time as ten-thirty. 

Today, Tybalt was determined to reach the corner store near the Bridge in hopes of beating his longest distance goal. Today would be that day, he felt. As he traversed the Bridge, he slowed to a lighter jog, and brushed past other runners. As he reached the middle, a fleet of bicycles (there was some marathon) passed by, overflowing into the pedesterian's area to roam. One woman stopped as Tybalt avoided the cyclists to bend down. She was tying her shoes. 

Grumbling, he suddenly halted, and stood in front of her with an expression of malcontent. "You could at least waited until the cyclists had passed, half-pint," he snapped. It utterly pissed him off when people could be this inconsiderate to him. 

[JANE EYRE]

Jane felt stiffled with her routine. She had been so busy between teaching, learning, and spending time with her friends that she felt like her already small figure was shriveling up. Jane pardoned her way out of a lunch date with a fellow teacher and went for a walk. Jane gave herself the majority of the day just to walk around town, something she hadn't done in far too long. Not giving herself a route to follow, Jane set off with a bottle of water and her trainers and just started walking.

She wound up at the Brooklyn Bridge and just kept walking. Jane didn't give a thought to how she was going to get home or how far she was going to walk, she just needed to clear her head. She was able to get away from the guilt that had resurfaced once one year away from Edward had passed, away from the pressure of her new societal position, away from Erik, away from Claudius, away from her students, just...away.

Halfway across the bridge, Jane had to stop to tie her shoe. There was a group of cyclists approaching so Jane moved off to the side, practically hugging the rail as she knelt and tied her laces.

"You could at least waited until the cyclists had passed, half-pint,"

Jane's head flew up, staring at the man who had stopped in front of her and addressed her so rudely. "I beg your pardon?"

[creep]

Tybalt wasn't typically this rude. Well, honestly, he was usually this rude, but it really irked him that people couldn't grasp the concept of avoiding accidents. As the platoon of bicycles finally pushed forward, the woman stood up. "I beg your pardon?" she asked. Tybalt could hardly resist rolling his eyes. 

It failed to occur to him why people were so idiotic. Was it not common sense that would let a person realize that there was a time for tying shoe laces, and it's when there isn't anything around to cause incidents of any sort. A brighter person could have simply waited until the flock had passed before attempting to do so. Thus, Tybalt would've never suffered the danger of tripping over the woman, or swerve into the crowd. 

And now, the woman begs his pardon? "Good lord, not only you are incompetent, but you're deaf, too!" he declared, voicing his thoughts. The trademark note of spite and acidity. Poison tainted his words, and a scowl adorned his face. It was needless to say that he could not bear ignorant people.     

Deciding to clarify, Tybalt repeated himself. "I had said that you could have at least waited until the cyclists had passed to tie your damn shoes." Any sense of relaxation had evaporated within last moment. Despite the fact that the woman could be blown away by a breath of wind, Tybalt was ready to start a fight. Well, truthfully, he was always ready for a fight.

[JANE EYRE]

Good lord, not only you are incompetent, but you're deaf, too!

Jane gaped at the man, her brows knitting together in anger. How dare he! He didn't even know her and yet he was willing to pass such harsh judgement so quickly. Jane straightened and put her hands on her hips, defensive and peeved all at once. Jane looked up at the man defiantly, craning her neck since he was about a half foot taller than her.

"Well forgive me if I'm not accustomed to strangers berating me on the street!" She snapped in return, sarcasm dripping from her tone. A while back she could never respond to someone this way but as luck would have it, she had changed. Still mild and meek most of the time, but now unafraid to speak her mind.

"I had said that you could have at least waited until the cyclists had passed to tie your damn shoes."

"I'm against the rail!" Jane said sternly, grabbing the rail with one hand as if to prove a point. "You had plenty of room to go around me," She had been polite in moving to the side. Did he really expect her to wait as nearly 100 cyclists rode past on the crowded bridge? Or was he just so conceited to think that people would do whatever he wanted? He certainly had the air of someone whose ego did not match their person.

[creep]

"Well forgive me if I'm not accustomed to strangers berating me on the street!" she exclaimed, in a tone where the sarcasm could hardly be missed. 

Tybalt could barely contained the satisfaction of instigating a fight. Despite the fact that he was quite annoyed at her ignorance, he couldn't help feeling amused as she furiously snapped back at him. She was so much smaller than him, and she had such a weak air about her. 

However, her insolence could not easily be forgiven. "A stranger? Not do much," he said, folding his arms, "I happen to be Tybalt Capulet. My uncle is Adam Capulet. If there's one thing we're known for, aside from our stately fortune, is all of our lawyers. You better be careful of what you say to me."

Frowning, he continued looking down upon her with a expression equally defiant to the young woman's. Yes, the Capulets were reputed to have several lawyers, but he left it unmentioned that they didn't particularly liked Tybalt. They would never mention this in fear of being fired, but they hardly made their services available for him. Of course, he didn't mention this to the tiny woman.

"Well, excuse me, but I'm not all that keen on throwing myself into a herd of cyclists, which would have happened if I hadn't stopped." Unknowingly, he was only adding fuel to the fire already threatening to boil over its furnace. Other passerbys were shooting disgruntled looks at the fighting pair, but Tybalt merely responded with a glare.

[JANE EYRE]

Jane rolled her eyes. This guy was obviously out for a fight, looking to anger someone and Jane didn't feel like being that person. Since the cyclists were passed them, Jane just wanted to leave. She dropped to her knee again, double checking her laces.

"Well, Mr. Capulet, my name is Jane Eyre and I hardly think that you could sue me for speaking to you," Jane hadn't been in America for too long but she did know that. Even harassment wasn't a plausible claim at the moment. Mr. Capulet had clearly instigated the argument and was the threatening person.

Jane was the small, weak one in the confrontation. The sympathy vote would be for her. Hopefully, Jane wouldn't have to test that out.

Straightening, Jane started to brush past him. "Now if you'll excuse me,"