“Life’s about survival, and if anyone gets in my way of that, they’ll find themselves trying to survive against me.”

Gideon’s nature is as shadowy as the dark layers he wears. There’s a lot of anger to sift through, written in the lines of the various smirks that his mouth only seems to be capable of. He doesn’t coat his words with honey, but with insults and petty mocking—when he deigns to speak at all that is. Beneath the scowls and the death glares is a man who doesn’t know how to make connections other than enemies. All that anger is a shield against letting people get too close and as far as he’s concerned, everyone has their own agenda—including himself—and can’t be trusted.

Get through that spiky shield and you’ll find someone behind it who has an aversion to the cold, a fondness for chocolate, and a vicious protective streak.

He isn’t a vigilante that anyone would hail as a hero. He's not interested in helping people who can't help him in return. His intentions are entirely selfish, and displays of weakness from others won't earn them any favors from him, especially if they have nothing to give. The surefire way to catch Gideon off-guard are acts of kindness in reference to him. He’s so used to people not caring and hating him that anything else is inconceivable. Get him in your corner and you’ll see that he isn’t all angry sneers and sharp words and that he does care—very strongly—about those he lets in.