Welcome to Gaia! ::

☸ Alan Brandt ☸

Alan crossed his arms, rubbing his upper arms as he attempted to combat the chill running through his veins. This wasn't like Reed, this cool, slightly arrogant man beside him. His green eyes turned to look up at the white-haired musician, and his expression faded from frustration to mild amusement. "Yes," he said. "You don't know what I'm capable of, Reed. I grew up in the middle of a civil war in Africa, all of my father's money gained by the blood diamond trade. The things I saw, the things my father had to do to keep the business from being destroyed like the people, they were nightmarish. I can kill someone if I want to, and I will, with your help or not."
He adjusted his shirt, then reached up to push Reed's hair away from his face. "I love you, even if you're a paranormal bounty hunter who occasionally kills and seems to have a slightly d-ckish hidden personality. You're still the guy that I really don't like flirting with other people, and happens to sometimes make me feel weird." He shrugged, dropping his hands into his lap. "Support me or not, I don't care. Whichever way I end up, whether it's in jail, in the hospital, in South America, or in my grave, it's far better than doing nothing to get revenge on the man who tried to harm my father. He's the only family I really have, and if this thing tries again, I might end up completely alone in the world. I can't take the risk."

☸ Alan Brandt ☸

"Shoot you?" he repeated, taking the offer into consideration.
Alan took the time that Reed spoke to think about what to do. he didn't want to hurt Reed if he didn't have to, but he did need all the help that he could get. Holding the gun in his hand, Alan was instantly reminded of witnessing a bad diamond deal between his father and a rebel weapons supplier. He was five, and it was the first time he ever heard a gun go off. It was so loud! This one was likely to be loud too, but did he really care about the sound? It was the decision that was most important. Alan knew what he had to do, he knew the only thing that he could do. He waited until Reed finished speaking to do anything.
Without hesitation, the physicist took aim at Reed's hand, put his finger on the trigger, then pulled.

☸ Alan Brandt ☸

"You clearly don't know me that well!" he huffed, crossing his arms and shaking his head at the musician. He didn't even feel bad about the wound. Reed had told him to do it, he'd given him permission, and if he didn't trust Alan's resolve to find his father's attacker, than he was dumber than he looked.
Standing, Alan started for the bathroom, taking a small first aid kit out of the room and walking back into the living room. "Here, let me see it," he said, expression as unamused as ever. He hadn't been kidding when he'd said that he'd seen some things that had made him a little insensitive to things.

☸ Alan Brandt ☸

As Alan began to treat the wound, he tried not to smack Reed upside the head or squeeze the wound too hard. "I did what I had to do to get your support. That doesn't make me cold-blooded. Personally, I'm not a fan of blood or harming people unless absolutely necessary." Light green darted upwards to glance at the musician. "But keep speaking like that and I'll shoot you somewhere that you probably don't want to have harmed just yet." He looked back to the wound he was treating, taking a piece of cotton to mop up the excess blood. "You really didn't think that I would do it? Why's that?"

☸ Alan Brandt ☸

"Of course I didn't like it!" Alan, now covering the wound with fresh gauze and starting to wrap it in an attempt to stop the bleeding for once and for all, shook his head at the man. "Guns are loud and they leave residue, and they're very easy to miss with. Even the greatest of them are only weapons built not to further mankind, but to hinder it. It's revolting, and honestly, if I had it my way, I'd never use them." He was silent for a moment, waiting until he'd finished wrapping Reed's hand to speak again.
"Besides, I'm not a first-time shooter."
He stood, taking the first aid kit back to the bathroom and putting it away. He then started for the kitchen. "I'm going to make you some soup, then you need to go to bed and try to sleep for a little while. Don't use your hand for a while. If it gets much worse, we'll go to the doctor."

☸ Alan Brandt ☸

Alan put on an apron, rolling his sleeves up as he got to work. He managed to create homemade chicken dumpling soup with carrots, celery, and dumplings he'd had to make by hand. He was just lucky that his former nanny had taught him how to make basic meals. Of course, this was the most complex thing that he could make, but who really cared? About twenty minutes or so later, Alan poured Reed a bowl and walked out into the living room, using a spoon to stir around the broth. "Alright, now you have to eat it all before you go sleep," he said, setting the bowl on the table. He took a spoonful and lifted it to Reed's mouth, his hand under it to catch any stray drops.

☸ Alan Brandt ☸

"Huh?" Alan was shaken out of his thoughts, furrowing his brow at Reed. "What the heck is going on with you? First you tell me to shoot you, then you tell me to smile, make up your stupid mind on which mood you want me to be in!" He pursed his lips in a pout, then swallowed the soup on his own and put the spoon back in the soup. "If you're going to keep switching around like this, then I'm just going to go home!" He turned his back to Reed to start taking off the apron, his fingers struggling with the tight knot he'd tied.