A Series Of Unfortunate Events II PV Elsian Cox, Gideon Athanatos Closed

Humans weren’t built for the sprint. No claws. No fangs. No sudden pounce that brought the chase to a brutal end. Humans pursued. They stalked across endless plains until the prey faltered, until exhaustion did the killing for them.

Run. Run until you can’t. I’ll still be here.

Gideon was here. And he wasn’t stopping.

Finnegan was fast, yes, but Gideon could feel it—his quarry’s pace beginning to slip. A stagger in the rhythm. A desperate glance over the shoulder. Was it fatigue? Panic? Gideon didn’t care. All he saw was weakness.

And weakness bled.

"You think you’re clever, Finny?" Gideon called after him, his voice sharp and sing-song, that carefully crafted innocence suddenly too sweet. Too fake. Like a child snapping the head off a doll just to watch it break.

And when Finnegan dared to look back, Gideon lunged.

Gideon didn’t go for the obvious tackle—not yet. Instead, he slammed past Finnegan just enough to clip his shoulder, sending the Gryffindor stumbling mid-stride. It wasn’t enough to knock him flat, but jar him.

"Oops," Gideon chirped, feigning breathlessness even though his chest barely heaved. "Careful now! Wouldn’t want you to trip." Perhaps it was habit that heightened his voice, that compelled to maintain the masquerade.

The Hufflepuff slowed just enough to let Finnegan catch his balance—just enough to make it clear that this wasn’t over. He let the boy scramble forward, let him think for one foolish moment that he was still ahead.

The Hufflepuff slowed just enough to let Finnegan catch his balance—just enough to make it clear that this wasn’t over. He let the boy scramble forward, let him think for one foolish moment that he was still ahead. No, that he could escape. That was what he wanted in this moment, wasn't it? Eventually they always ran, and that was his favorite part, the chase.

And then Gideon caught him.

Feel free to roll or let it happen. Acc 15 | Strength 5.

If successful:

One sharp twist and they were tumbling into the snow, Gideon pinning Finnegan hard against the frost-covered ground, his knees pressing down just enough to make it hurt.

"You should be more careful," Gideon said, his voice light but his eyes sharp—dangerous. "Falling from this high up? Must be terrifying."

His breath curled against Finnegan’s lips, and there was nothing sweet about it now.

"But you’re brave, aren’t you? Always so brave." He pressed a bit harder.

A Gryffindor. So brave. Heh... He saw facets of a lion, a snake, but mostly bird. He leaned in closer, their noses nearly brushing, his voice dropping into something darker.

"So tell me, Finn," he murmured, "was it bravery... stupidity... or arrogance?"

Gideon smiled then, sharp and predatory, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. And for one lingering, suffocating moment, it looked as though he might actually snap.

This is a good place to intercede if Finn goes down. Free hit, I will not evade. Consider it like this - "the first one is always free." So please, save Finny from his bad decisions.

Letting the tackle happen, but rolling strength vs strength to determine how much this hurts.

Finn: 10
Gideon: 15

https://discord.com/channels/4105394207 ... 6272463913

The ground rushed up to meet him. Pain exploded across his ribs as he hit the dirt, skidding forward with the momentum. His knees scraped raw against the earth, his bag of sweets scattering across the ground. In an instant he rolled onto his back, chest heaving, ribs aching.

Gideon was already on him, his knees digging in like blades.

"You should be more careful."

Finnegan grimaced. How had Gideon caught up to him? It wasn't just the boy's forced voice that was unnatural, his smile twisted and sharp, like that of a predator toying with its prey.

"But you’re brave, aren’t you? Always so brave"

The weight on his chest made it hard to breathe, but Finnegan managed to quirk an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "Are you upset?" His voice came out steadier than he'd expected, considering how hard his heart was hammering against his ribs. The cold from the ground was seeping through his shirt, but his face felt hot from running. "I don't, I- don't understand."

Finnegan could feel every sharp dig of Gideon's knees, every ounce of pressure the older boy was using to keep him pinned. Still, he kept his expression neutral, closer to laughing than to crying, even as his muscles trembled from exhaustion. "Didn't know you were such a sore loser," he said, meeting Gideon's gaze despite the predatory glint in the other boy's eyes. "Didn't think you'd be this rough either. This is no way to treat your," he swallowed whatever dignity he still had left, "boyfriend. You're breathing in my face. Go on then," he goaded. "Do it. Impress me. I'm not going anywhere." His eyes flicked side to side then settled back on the blue-eyed predator before he shrugged in quiet resignation.

@Ellison Cox - this is your signal. Save me, Obi-Wan!

The world narrowed to the sharp, electric thread binding them, the cold earth beneath Finnegan’s back, and the weight of Gideon pressing down on the Gryffindor like inevitability. He did not care that the entire quidditch team would get a free show. Gideon tilted his head, his blond hair falling into his eyes, casting shadows over his sharp, predatory smile. His expression was unreadable, hovering somewhere between amusement and something far darker.

“Upset?” he echoed, his voice low, the edges of it raw, almost trembling with restraint. Hard. So hard. “Oh, Finnegan, I’m not upset." Control. He needed control. "No… upset is what a child feels when they’re denied a treat. This—” Finn might have kissed then ran, revealing perhaps in part that there was less passion and more planning involved, but the physical nature of the interaction was a bonus rather than a focus. He liked it. But what he liked more was this. The chase. The push. The fight against not just the boy beneath him that he wanted to feel struggle, but also the fight against the monster within him. He had a terrible nature, one he needed to repress not for some moral reason but rather for the practicality of it all. The world did not care for monsters the same way they cared for men. So he would have to bide his time a little longer.

His heart began to slow, the hunt was over. Bump. Bump. Bump. He leaned closer, his breath warm against Finnegan’s flushed cheek. “—this is something else entirely.”

There was a flicker in Gideon’s eyes, a dangerous glint that danced between hunger and madness. The kiss—the audacity of it, the passion, the way Finnegan had stolen control only to turn it into a game—had sparked something primal inside him. Something feral. Something that should have remained unknown, untouched and untethered. Something Gideon didn’t entirely understand but had no intention of denying.

“You think I’m playing with you?” Gideon continued, his voice softening, laced with mock sweetness. His knees pressed harder into Finnegan, not enough to break bone but enough to bruise, enough to remind the lion who held the power. “You think this is a game, don’t you? And maybe it is. But you should know something about me, Finny. I don’t play fair.”

His fingers reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Finnegan’s forehead with unsettling tenderness, his touch a stark contrast to the sharp pressure of his knees. “You like this, don’t you?” he murmured, his tone slipping between teasing and accusatory. “This push and pull, this… dance. You like to see how far you can push me before I break. Maybe before I break you—” His smile widened, sharp and gleaming as he allowed the accusation to linger for the masochist. “—what happens when you get what you want?”

Game over. Won or lost. Was it ever worth playing if it ended?

For a moment, the world held its breath. Then Gideon’s hands shifted, slipping to Finnegan’s wrists, pinning them to the dirt. The movement was calculated, deliberate, a clear declaration of control. And yet, his smile softened, the mask of youthful charm sliding back into place.

“You’re brave,” he said again, his voice almost a purr. “I like that about you. I like your clever little tricks, your way of running and teasing and testing me.” He leaned closer, their faces inches apart, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “But don’t think for a second that I’ll let you win.” He went in for a kiss, just a peck this time. (Feel free to avoid/deny, roll is not required) "Or that I would be terribly bothered with a loss," he gave Finn a toothy smile that seemed more terrible than the threatening expression he donned moments earlier.

He released Finnegan suddenly, rising to his feet in a fluid motion, the cold air rushing in to fill the space between them. Gideon looked down at him, brushing imaginary dust from his overpriced, foppish coat. The boyish grin he wore now was disarming, almost innocent, but the tension in the air hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had sharpened.

“Come on, Finn,” he said, extending a hand, his tone light and almost playful. “Let’s not waste the rest of the night lying in the dirt. Unless, of course, that’s where you’d prefer to stay. I’d hate to ruin the moment.”

His smile didn’t falter as he waited, his hand hovering, inviting. The duality in him was stark—kindness wrapped in steel, sweetness laced with venom. Whether Finnegan took his hand or not, Gideon would walk away with the upper hand, his grin promising more games, more chaos, more of whatever twisted connection they had forged.

And deep inside, as he watched Finnegan’s next move, Gideon relished the thought of how far this dance could go before one of them finally broke. He would take note of observers and give them a friendly wave. According to the papers they were lovers that could not keep their hands off one another.