Bert shook his head. He wasn't used to being up this early. He never got up this early. Never. Ever. So, he'd decided not to go to bed at all. It had seemed a smart choice at first, but when both his roommates had turned their cloaks on him and gone to sleep, all he had to entertain himself with was throwing his dagger into a table, something which more often than not awoke and summoned the wrath of his so called friends. Bastards they were. Yawning and tilting his head backwards to get the shoulder length hair out of his surprisingly brown, though blood shot, eyes, Bert entered the courtyard from the halls and looked around. Not too many children were about, but over in a corner he thought he could make out a rigid shape, standing at the ready, awaiting recruits. That must be Kuroshiro. Using his left arm, the one with the nifty scar, to rub his bare, somewhat chubby, belly, Bert started towards the waiting Child. Bert foresaw the day would be hot, and had as such decided not to wear any shirt or piece of clothing on his upper half. He would've dropped the pants too, if he didn't know what the officers did to streakers. He'd felt it himself, and had a burn mark on his left buttcheek to prove it.

Taking deliberate ease not to seem to eager as he approached, Bert thought he saw a slight hint of disapproval in Kuro's eyes as he eyed the bare chest of Bert. Though muscular, bert had always had a great love for food, and it showed slightly on his abdomen, though beneath the thin layer of fat was finely tuned muscles. Raising his left arm, trying to display his scar once more so he could recount the lie about the trollocs, well... More of a mis-remembered memory. Bert didn't like the word lie. And tripping over a rock was in many ways like getting attacked like Trollocs. Finally getting to the man, Bert saluted lazily and greeted him. "I'm Bert! How fare you?"

Bert chewed on the question for a moment or two, then raised his hand. "Oy, mr. Brandeis, sir, I've gotten a plan!" As Brandeis directed his steady gaze to Bert, a slight blush stole way up his neck. His plan wasn't that bad. IF he was the one being brought before it, he knew he'd crack in an instant, and certainly Brandeis would see the genius of his scheme. It didn't matter to Bert what the children thought, and he was sure that at least a few would think it a reasonable way of questioning. "So, what I was thinking was, I could, like, leave the... er.. suspect in a room, right? And I'd not feed him, for like... hours! Or days if he was, you know, tough! And then, I'd sit down infront of him and eat! Like, alot! I'd eat pies and omelets, and some bread wouldn't hurt I suppose... And maybe a glass of wine on the side, to wash it down. And I sure do feel like chicken. But anyways, yeah, and I'd tell him that, if he talked, I'd give him some food! But that he'd better talk fast, 'cus I'm a fast eater and stuff," Bert finished, trying not to notice the queer looks he was getting from his fellow students. "So, what do you think sir?"

that'd be kewl indeed

mein!

Having just been interrupted in a very intriguing conversation about the properties of a horses buttocks arrival of Ramai, Bert stood up and greeted his somewhat sombre roommate. Even though his face attempted to show nothing, Bert noticed a certain something in his eyes, as if he was chaotically fighting some inner urge whilst at the same time trying to maintain his cool outer visage. Bert punched him playfully on the shoulder and got a dead cold gaze in return. He tried to smile it away, but this only seemed to make it stronger. Zoe saved the day by proposing they go riding, something Bert certainly didn't mind... Too bad. Sure, horses didn't seem to like him, and sure, he didn't seem to like horses back, but if Zoe asked Bert didn't see any other choice than too answer.

Trotting along the others, Bert mentally prepared to master the horse, to look it square in the eye and not neigh first, to climb ontop it's back without stumbling and falling face down in the mud. He'd have no more of that, once was more than enough. He clenched his fists slightly.

meee!

Bert patted his stomach. He'd eaten five omelets. If only the damn serving lady had let him have another one, he was sure he could manage to get it down as well. Now, he was digesting his food on a bench in the courtyard, licking sun and thinking of nothing much indeed. As he turned his head slightly to get the sun out of his eyes, he saw Zoe walking out of the main hall supported by some new kid. His senses flared up, Why's he holding her arm!? He got up abruptly, perhaps too abruptly judging from the queer sounds his stomach was emitting and started a wobble towards Zoe, which eventually evolved into a neat jog. "Heya!" he shouted from afar, waving his hand. As he reached them Zoe returned the salute with a smile and introduced the new child: "Bert, this is Ken, Ken this is Bert!" Bert shot out his hand and grasped Ken's. "Pleased to meet you!"

Bert sat in the grass amongst his fellow Children, listening with half an ear to what the instructor was lecturing, his mind preoccupied with finding a decent sitting position. Not to say he wasn't paying attention, no, his mind registered every word and archived them for later reviewing. It was just that... Well, Bert had never been too fond of blood and violence, and was all in all a somewhat relaxed character. The idea of torture, or questioning as they so neatly put it, did horrid things to his mind. He quickly decided that he'd better get very good at using his tongue and breaking his victims mind that way, so that he'd not have to resort to too much physical abuse. Stretching his legs infront of him, he listened to Brandeis explain how to break a man utilizing his greed and jealousy, and paid close attention to it. He liked how Brandeis talked about questioning, he didn't seem like a man who would too swiftly resort to violence, not a cynical sadist like his mental image of a questioner was.

Changing his pose once more, to the annoyance of the children surrounding him, Bert started thinking of being a questioner, and of being questioned. As much as he hated it, he knew that he'd break only looking at a scalpel being brandished infront of him, even Brandeis simple act of breaking the stick gave him a jolt. As Brandeis patiently answered Edalia's question, Bert imagined himself standing triumphant over the bloodied figure of a darkfriend lying on his back, confessing his every sin and secret to Bert, and felt a strange surge of... of power almost. He wondered how it would be in real life, if he would be able to do what was required of him and not bail. The next child to raise a hand was Zoe. As she asked if the Instructor had been questioned, horrid images flashed before Bert's eyes, of himself this time on the ground, a darkfriend above him with sharp knives and glowing hot pokers, laughing maniacally. He shook the thought away and waited for Brandeis' answer.