Billy Goat's Gruff (John•casual)

[JANE EYRE]

;;outfit;;

Jane firmly believed that art was an extension of the human spirit. Likewise, she also believed that the human soul is everchanging, growing, and morphing into a newer and better form. Being an artist, that meant that she could never settle with how her art was. Recently having purchased a camera, Jane had gone a little crazy in taking pictures and playing with the composition, or using them as references. She ran out of things to photograph in her own home and she wasn't going to ask her friends so Jane took to the streets.

She walked through the landmark routes that traced the city's innards. Random shapes and items were caught in her lense's eyes and immortalized on the film. The concrete and steel grew old, the pollution sticking to her skin in an unsavory fashion. Desperate to escape the industrialized trap of the city, she retreated to Central park. The greenery, the softer feel of everything, made Jane feel so much cleaner.

Trees, flowers, insects, stones...all were photographed with glee and alacrity. Jane loved the park. There were so many little trails she could take, bridges to cross.

One such petite brige caught Jane's attention. It was about 7 feet above a relatively shallow pond, fish swimming about lazily. Jane all but skipped to the center of the bridge, bubbling with happiness at everything. A new camera, art all around, a day in the park, nothing was wrong today. Jane leaned over the rail, snapping pictures rapidly. One particularly bright colored fish caught her eye, drifting slowly along. It made its way under the bridge, out of Jane's sight. Feeling reckless, Jane leaned further over the rail, it pressing into her stomach, as it started to support her weight wholly. Her toes were barely brushing the wood as she aimed to grab one last picture.

In a last ditch effort to catch the sun reflecting off of it's scales, Jane leaned a bit too far, never once thinking of her safety until she was tilting uncontrollably over the edge. Giving a small shriek, Jane flailed in an attempt to regain her balance and to not topple into the water bellow.

[DR. JOHN WATSON]

John had always wanted to go to central park, ever since he was a young boy. He'd seen the place in a magazine when he was a child, and had told his mother repeatedly that he wanted to go there to play. Now he was grown, and he could come here to relax.

It was a peaceful day, bright and warm. He lay out on the grass, relieved to take the weight off his every bothersome limbs. New York City was a wonderful place, he'd found in his short stay here. He'd heard many people hated the place, but he was very fond of it. It was vibrant and alive, very unlike the cold and stagnant streets of London.

He felt home, to say the least. The land was strange to him, of course. He couldn't understand the habitual laziness of Americans. Their reputation preceeded them. However, he hadn't found much of that in New York yet, something he was thankful for. Though their loud and boisterous ways startled him, though he had to admit, it was quite amusing.

He leaned up and rested on his elbows, his arm bothering him a bit from the pressure, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He swept his sunglasses up to his forehead and looked around at all the life bustling in the park. There was a child playing with its dog among the grass . A group of gossipy private school girls, eating their lunch on a bench nearby. There were a slew of joggers, bicyclists, and walkers traversing the extensive area. There were musicians, writers, artists of all kinds, finding inspiration in nature. He admired them for their fierce dedication to their craft.

One such artist was a young photographer, snapping pictures this way and that. He chuckled, amused at her vigor and enthusiasm. She was a small little thing, flitting around like a butterfly. Not very attractive, sort of plain faced, but she had a certain awkward prettiness to her that he liked. She looked young, so it might be best not to speak to her, for fear of upsetting the "natural order of things" here in America.

She was leaning over the bridge, and he was afraid she might fall, but he was sure she knew what she was doing.

That is... Until she did exactly what he thought she would do.

She began to tip over, and cried out in a plea for help. "Oh, God!" John exclamied, pushing himself up with little effort, a building adrenaline rush sinking in. His sunglasses slipped off his head and landed in the grass behind him, from his quick reaction to the scene.

He sped toward her on the bridge, and leaned his torso all the way over to clutch at her wrist. "Hang on! Just, just hang on! I've got you!"

He pulled and gripped at her waist, bringing her back over the edge and to her feet. He breathed a sigh of relief when she was safely on the bridge, completely intact. He heaved a sigh, and panted, only just feeling the excruciating pain the run took on him, in both his leg and in his arm. He leaned against the rail of the bridge, and wheezed.

"A-a-are you alright, miss?" he asked politely, licking his lips and swallowing hard.

[JANE EYRE]

Squawking in a rather undignified fashion, Jane flailed wildly as she tipped forward even more. Certain that she was going to fall into the pond and her new camera was going to be thoroughly ruined, Jane yelped in suprise when someone grasped her wrist and deftly pulled her back to safety. Jane stumbled once her feet were safly on the wood planking, falling back against the rail with a hand pressed against her chest. Her heart was racing, her face flushed from embarassment.

"Thank you," She said, almost gasping.

"A-a-are you alright, miss?"

Jane opened her mouth to respond but stopped short. It was quite obvious that he was in pain. "Never mind me," Jane looked around, spotting an empty bench. "Can you walk over there?" Jane felt absolutely wretched. Her clumsiness caused this man pain! A quick glance over him told her that he was handicapped, used a cane, and Jane felt even worse. "I am so sorry, I shouldn't have been leaning over so far," Jane paused only a moment in her tirade of apologies before continuing on, full force. "You should have just let me fall instead of hurting yourself. Really, I wouldn't have minded if it would have kept you from suffering any pain,"