TO: Guy concerned about my wardrobe.FROM: Jotaro

Nose held high, back arched straight. Make yourself look bigger. Be bigger, be better. Be everything more than he is. Take everything from his hands. Do not allow him to ever be above you. 'He' was Jonathan Joestar. A man he had known since childhood, a man he detested above all else - but the man he ever truly respected. Dio since their days as children often fought over something entirely trivial or even the most important of things. Because of Dio, Jonathan never had a break and even in adulthood he wasn't spared from Dio's animosity either. He would never allow him the benefit of breathing a fresh air of relief. Whether it was having his girlfriend stolen, his friends leaving him in lieu of Dio, or just something as pitiful as having his chocolate pilfered -- It was never ending.

However, Jonathan treated Dio with respect despite their constant quarrels (and plethora of fist fights which usually the winner was dependent on if Jonathan was angry enough to kick Dio's ass to next Wednesday). Today was nothing different in their longstanding rivalry, once again, the blond was at his antics. Often times he would surprise Jonathan and the rest of those stories would often end with bloody noses, busted knuckles, and the like. Even in their age, it did not end. It wasn't going to. Sometimes there were calms before the storm where they would both enjoy each others company. Although, it took a lot for Dio to be anything but decent with Jonathan.

Their relationship was childlike. When they weren't punching each other senseless, they acted like small children. Although, Jonathan was entirely more mature than Dio among their decent moments with each other. Today, Dio felt like it was time to bother Jonathan. A voice broke the silence, It was Dio's.

"JoJo!"

Blood isn't uncommon in Jotaro's feuds. Whether something minuscule or specific gets under the young man's skin, the outcome is always the same: a blown fuse. He isn't known for being very patient, unfortunately, and many a times there are the unfortunate singular or multitude of people whom fall prey to the young man's lost temper. 

A mismarked set of words was what set him off this early afternoon. True, he was in the wrong in this case. After all, the young woman had merely commented on how attractive she found Jotaro. As he ignored her and continued walking, she merely followed, speaking up more loudly. Her compliments became assertive remarks of the same set of words, and the young man turned around and barked words of vicious dismissal. Needless to say, the young woman had backed off immediately, eyes glossed with tears threatening to shed. Another male approached-- a suspiciously dressed older man donned in a trenchcoat and fedora. "Don't be so mean to m'lady," was all that Jotaro registered before that still-flaring temper struck again in the form a well-aimed punch to the other's jaw. It went all downhill from there.

Moments passed, and fists were flying on both ends though the older was well bruised and bloodied. His reputation of hospitalizing people would shine through perfectly if it weren't for the sudden interruption. Someone had to play the hero and break up the fight-- Jotaro's arms were locked in place by a set of strong arms hooked underneath. The brief interruption was just enough of a window of time for the elder to shakily nod his head, tip his fedora, and run right away.

In time, Jotaro freed himself, quick to swivel around, slow to calm his temper.