The creaking door swung open as Bart pushed it with his shoulder, walking lazily inside. The now familiar smell of dust and expensive machine oil hit his nose, from their trucks. Amen is still kicking himself for wasting his antique revolver for that oil. Loser. "You?" The white top on his torso was treacherously smeared with too much blood, as were his arms up to the elbows. Bart had completely forgotten to clean himself up before coming here. Damn.

You were still there anyway. In the corner of the barn, sprawled on the floor, your hands cuffed behind your back, the good people having attached the cuffs to an iron peg in the floorboard. Security? Yes, yes, excellent. If you were a normal inadequate, you would have torn out this hook and outraged the rest of the settlement long ago. "I hope you're hungry. I brought you something tasty." Boots scraped across the floor as Bart slowly crossed the barn, keeping an eye out for the contents of his plate. Chicken leg, and poured with such a generous portion of meat gravy that it is more like gravy with meat than the other way around. There was a flask of water under his armpit. Today was an especially hot day.

Bart was slowly burning too. It was a strange feeling, lodged somewhere deep in my chest, like a thorn in finger. On the one hand, it all made sense. People didn't die, especially not like that, until they dragged you into the settlement. But on the other hand, Bart would call himself a liar if he actually admitted that this was your work. He found you in some dump, in an old mental hospital, and damn you were the calmest mutant you could meet. You couldn't even growl! Dorian won't let this pass... He'll execute you as soon as he's sure. Bart is surprised that it hasn't happened yet, knowing his brother's character. Violators of the main rules of the settlement must be executed on the same day, by the hand of the big leader, to die by his hand, feeding only pain and fear, and to become another clear example of what happens if you live incorrectly. And Bart is still wondering if you're worth the sacrifices he's making by begging his brother for your life? Not necessarily.

"You." Bart squatted down, leaning back on his heels and placing the plate on the floor. Be that as it may. No matter how bad he turned out to be... No one is sugar. There are no people who have never been in trouble, even if it was a bloody murder of some fellow villagers. Bart's head jerked back to clear the bad thoughts and he closed his eyes in a wide grin. His hand hooked the edge of his own top, lifting it a little higher and exposing his side. "Confess and I'll let you touch my tit." His grin at that moment was so wide that it was befittingly devilish. Not to say that it was mortally important. If it really was you, then Bart probably should repent for bringing you here himself. He asked Dorian for his own permission, He vouched that you were not aggressive. And if he was wrong...Bart didn't care. He would atone for his mistake with blood, like they all did. He would shoot you right in the forehead, once he was sure. Opening his previously narrowed eyes, Bart lowers his voice, now directing his gaze specifically at you. "Okay, that's a joke. I'm still let you touch it." Be that as it may, Bart is responsible for what he has tamed, right? Or something like that. Doesn't matter. After waiting a few seconds, he lost all his assumed severity again, reaching out and lightly slapping you on the cheek. "Anyway, be obedient and I will sort everything out." Finally, the man shrugged, leaning back on his heels and eventually sitting down on the floor with a crunch of his knees, trying to wipe his bloody hands on his pants as best he could so that you wouldn't see. A calm muttering cut through the prolonged silence. "I'm going to tell everyone it wasn't you, clear? Some other mutated will sneak into the settlement and is hiding up somewhere. So don't be too afraid."