Taking the Plunge :: OPEN

There had been many times in his life where he wondered how he got there. In that moment, how the series of events led him to be in that very spot in that very moment. Fighting in the war. Holding a fallen soldier while they took their last breath. Sitting at the funeral of his wife. Getting punched in the face as a preteen during a fight behind the family shop.

And now this. How in the hell had he gotten to this exact spot at this exact moment.

Gideon had woken up and decided to forgo the more tailored suit, vest, shirt and jacket. No, today he was going casual. Basic grey pinstripe pants, white undershirt, over it a white dress shirt with the sleeves folded up to his elbows, suspenders and currently no shoes or socks. His tattoo on full display, unusual smile on his face and the occasional playful cat call at a student. This was not the Gideon most people saw. EVER.

Sitting on the hard wooden bench above the cool tank of water, yelling at the students that dare to dunk him in the dunk tank. Sure, some had gotten in a good shot, most missed by a mile, but all were having a blast.

“Come on! You can do better than that! My Granny can toss a ball better in her sleep!” He yelled at a fifth year Gryffindor who was laughing right along with him. The poor kid had tried three times, all missed. “Go practice, I’m sure you’ll do better next year!”

Adjusting himself on the seat, Gideon ran his fingers through his wet hair, pushing it off his face. He had unfortunately taken a few trips into the tank. Thoroughly soaked through, water dripping off the end of his hair, he had to admit, he was having way more fun than he would have ever thought. As the next person stepped up to the plate, he smiled.

“Look, I know it’s hard, but if you miss I promise not to tell anyone. Maybe. Never mind, I’ll pass out flyers. DO YOUR WORST!”

He had a arm as far as throwing went. However carnival games were always rigged somehow. Though considering he had grandparents who worked at a shop in Knockturn Alley and a father that took being a cursebreaker to the grave he just assumed everything was rigged. The catch and curiosity to him in this situation was the how was it rigged.

He watched one of his classmates aim while laughing along with the taunts Blackwood was giving them when they were attempting to dunk the man. Taunts that were distracting his classmate. Laughter that was altering his movements making his throws imbalanced. It was unsurprising to him the Gryffindor missed three times.

The only way he could truly observe this was by actually participating.

“Look, I know it’s hard, but if you miss I promise not to tell anyone. Maybe. Never mind, I’ll pass out flyers. DO YOUR WORST!”

With a chuckle he stepped forward and said “ Tell everyone something they can see with their own eyes. “ He could care less that everyone could see him miss tossing a ball. After all, he had zero aspirations for quidditch as it was already to dangerous a sport even if one ignored the fact they were all on brooms. With the fact they were all on brooms made the sport so deadly he could hardly watch it.

Then he stepped forward and took one of the balls and attempted to throw it at the mechanism for the dunk tank. The throw was an under handed lob with a clear and controlled arc for the mechanism with his object being to either hit it or hit just above it and have the ball fall onto it activating it still.

Though he didn’t watch as he turned around just after releasing the ball and said “ How about we take turns make him call out to two of us instead of focusing one at a time. “ Hoping someone else around would want to join in. As if he could stand here and observe someone else throw it would give him another angle in figuring out how this was rigged if his shot hadn’t worked.

Then he looked towards the tank to see the result of his toss.