Courtland Gentry

Name: Courtland Gentry/The Gray Man/Sierra Six/Six

Age: 35 years old

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Asexual

Occupation: Private Assassin/Hired Gun/Contract Operator/A killer of men

I don’t really have any hobbies, if I’m being honest.

I’d say the cast iron plant.

Never heard of her.

Hospitals are a luxury. They also require identification, leave a paper trail, and usually involve mandatory police reports for puncture wounds or gunshots. If I show up at an emergency room, it means I am either unconscious or completely unable to walk.

Ninety percent of the time, you make do with what you have.

For stab wounds: You do not pull the blade out if it is still inside you; it acts as a plug. Once it is out, the priority is stopping the bleed. I use quick-clotting gauze, heavy pressure, and superglue or a field suture kit if I have the time and stable hands. If you are leaking, you are dying.

For broken bones: You reset it immediately before the muscle spasms lock the bone into the wrong position. Bite down on a belt, pull, and snap it back. Then you find anything rigid—a thick branch, a piece of scrap metal, rolled-up magazines—and duct tape it tight to immobilize the joint.

For infections: This is the real killer. You can survive a bullet graze, but sepsis will take you down in days. You flush wounds with whatever alcohol is available, pack them with antibiotics if you have them, and keep moving.

Like I said, it’s okay.

No, it’s okay.

I…uh…don’t really wanna talk about it…

But basically he was abusive, especially towards my youngest brother Casey. Even more after our Mom died (he killed her)

So when I was 15, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I shot and killed my dad to protect Casey.

And that tore our family apart.

That was traumatic for him, apparently he remembers it as “Our mom stabbed dad to protect herself”

Thank you.

Not really fond of them.

I’d say it’s the sheer challenge of survival, outsmarting impossible odds, and having complete control over my mission parameters.

Hello.

You remind me of my brother.

It’s a waste of bullets.

No, it’s okay.

My birthday is April 18th.

Thank you.

I really needed that today.